#(added tag: clarification in replies ^.^))

[sovereigntism]

@musessinabag asked:

TRUTHTFUL TUESDAY 18 and 19

[accepting so long as this works - here's the source for reblogging.]

18. what’s your favorite trope?

Isekai tropes! Another World and Reincarnation tropes are my favorite to write, and to consume in media.

19. what’s the most overrated plot?

OG FL / ML is crazy and villainous. Wants to kill new FL / ML, or whatever. I just find it overplayed in the isekai otomes I read and lately I've wanted to chew on the limbs of whatever group decided that was going to be a common trope.

[loudstan]

Perfect Little Toy

Summary: Mark was looking forward to meeting his mate, but he was not expecting to find her in a sex shop.

Pairing: Werewolf! Mark x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: smut, some angst, magic potions used during sex I guess? also this is way longer than my other fics sorry

 Mark should have known better. But when Haechan asked him to go shopping with him, never in a million years did he think they would end up in a sex shop.

“Dude, I don’t wanna go in there,” he hissed, trying to break free from Haechan’s unrelenting grip on his arm.  Haechan pulled harder, whining vociferously. “S-stop! People are watching,” Mark whispered urgently, trying to hide his face from the curious bystanders.

“What’s the big deal?”Haechan rolled his eyes.

“You could have ordered stuff like this online!” Mark sighed, reluctantly letting himself be dragged into the eye-catching store. “It’s weird to come here together.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Haechan shrugged, walking to the nearest shelf and inspecting the x-rated shaped toys on display. “We are bros, aren’t we? Remember when you wanted to get a fortune telling reading but didn’t want to go alone? Who went with you?”

“Okay, first of all, you can’t possibly compare fortune telling to vibrators,” Mark argued, slapping Haechan’s hand away when it playfully brought a pink dildo uncomfortably close to Mark’s face. “Secondly, you literally found your mate in that shop, so you should be thanking me.”

“Well, maybe you’ll find your mate in here,” Haechan said.

“Very funny,” Mark deadpanned, offended at the mere suggestion of meeting his destined partner in such a lewd place. “Oh, shit I made eye contact with an employee, fuck he’s coming this way-”

“Hi, welcome to Pandora’s Box. My name is Jeonghan,” said a young man with dark hair and a bored expression as he pointed at the name tag on his shirt. “How can I help you today? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Hey,man!” Haechan greeted. “You see, my girl and I have a lot of sex-”

“Sure you do,” Jeonghan’s plain voice replied. If only he got paid extra for every time he heard that. 

“But she’s human and I’m a werewolf. I’m afraid I’m too big down there for her, you know?” Haechan continued with an arrogant smirk, pointing at his crotch just for extra clarification, Mark cringing behind him.

“Right,”said Jeonghan, clearly unimpressed. Again, if he got paid for each guy who said they were too big. “If you want to train her for your size, then we have some bigger models over here,” he offered, walking the two customers to a shelf with exotic looking silicone dicks. He shoved a massive  neon green dildo into Haechan’s hands.“This one was molded after a head alpha. It comes with a remote to simulate a knot,” he said as he pressed a button on the remote and  the phallic toy started growing in the werewolf's hands, who was in obvious shock. This was Jeonghan’s favorite part of his job: humbling men who thought they were the shit, when it goes without saying that there’s always a bigger dildo that can do a better job. “It glows in the dark,” he added, biting back a smile.

“Cool,”Haechan breathed out, trying not to show how much they had hurt his ego and ignoring Mark’s snort. “Uh–I’m not sure about the… the color, yeah,” There was no way he was buying a toy bigger than him. “Do you maybe have, uh–...something else? Maybe a potion or something that makes it less painful for her?” He added before that Jeonghan guy tried to show him another colossal toy.

 Jeonghan put the toy back on the shelf and lifted his eyebrows as he seemed to think about it for a second. “I guess a potion would work, yeah…This way, please,” he instructed, taking a very embarrassed Haechan and a now amused Mark to a different section of the shop, hidden behind some dark curtains. “Hey, Y/N! Do you have anything to make werewolf penetration more enjoyable for humans?” he asked loudly as they entered a small room decorated with tons of colorful potion jars and  illuminated by candles. 

 At first Mark choked at the employee’s vulgar words and coughed awkwardly. Then a sweet and fresh scent invaded his nostrils, making him freeze. He let out a shaky breath and inhaled once again, letting the summer-like scent fill his lungs and his brain go fuzzy, his eyes trying to focus on the source of such heavenly stimulation. There you were, the most beautiful woman Mark had ever laid eyes on, wearing an employee uniform and your hair tied up neatly not to get in the way of your job. You had stopped mixing a bubbly lilac potion in a cauldron to listen to Jeonghan and help him solve Haechan’s problem. And god, your voice was so melodic, Mark had no idea what you were talking about but he could listen to you forever.

“So this would make her produce as much slick as an omega in heat?” Haechan was fascinated, staring at an expensive looking potion in an elegant jar. 

“Well, not automatically,” you replied. “It will depend on how aroused she is. If you can’t  turn her on, it won’t help you.”

“So you’re telling me,” Haechan insisted, overconfidently. “That she’ll have no way to hide how turned on she is?” he was already thinking of how cute his girlfriend would look when she’s all wet and embarrassed. 

“Yes,” you replied dryly at the same time Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the cocky customer. 

 Mark, on the other hand, was in his own little world and couldn’t stop staring at your lips. Unconsciously, he found himself wondering if you would need to use that potion to make him fit or if he could make it work by taking things slow. Maybe if he ate you out real good and opened you up with his fingers it wouldn’t hurt that much. Mark didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to make you feel good, take care of you.

“Holy shit,” he gasped when it finally hit him. This was it. He had found his mate. In a fucking sex shop.

Haechan gave him an inquisitive look, but he quickly dismissed his friend’s reaction as him being impressed by the potion. 

“Anything else you need?” Jeonghan asked, making Haechan turn his attention to him once again. 

“Mm…Handcuffs?” Haechan asked after a few seconds of hesitation. 

“How original,” Jeonghan muttered, before indicating for Haechan to follow him back outside. Mark didn’t budge when his friend walked past him. It was like his feet were glued to the floor as he stared at you going back to mixing the suspicious-looking potion while humming to a sweet melody. His eyes landed on your name tag and he found himself saying your name out loud before he could stop it. You quickly looked up, surprised that the customer was still there.

“Yes?” you asked politely. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Oh shit, he had to think of something before you thought he was a creep. He licked his lips nervously before he came up with a question that sounded convincing enough. “I j-just uh… are y-you the owner?”

“Jeonghan and I both co-own this place,” you replied and gave him a smile. “Why?”

“N-no, because, like, you look very y-young so I w-was a bit…surprised, so…so I asked?” The way he ended as if he was asking a question was kind of cute if you were being honest and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

 Mark let out a giggle too, dazed at the fact that he had made you laugh. Oh, how he wanted to make you laugh everyday for the rest of his life. 

“We came up with this idea when we were in freshman year, so we had plenty of time to save money and plan everything,” you explained patiently. Somehow, this stranger made you feel at ease, like you didn’t need to be careful with him, or at least not the way you were with most men. “By the time we graduated we were ready to open the store. It’s like our baby.”

Mark felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that there was a man who was close enough to you to plan such a big project together. “That’s cool, uh– s-so are you two, like, a thing? A c-couple?”

 The sound of your laughter made Mark’s heart skip a beat and he smiled dreamily, almost forgetting what he had asked in the first place.

“No way!” you continued laughing at the ridiculous idea, Mark’s relieved sigh going unnoticed. “We’ve been friends since forever. Just a little advice; never make business plans with a romantic partner, kid.”

“I-I’m 23,” Mark laughed nervously, using the back of his hand to dry up some sweat beads accumulated on his forehead. Your sweet scent was so suffocating it was getting harder to breathe, but he couldn’t care less. 

“Oops, my bad! Not a kid,” you said. “You look so young, though! I’m jealous,” you complimented him, not wanting to admit that he also looked gorgeous. “What’s your name?”

“M-mark,” he stuttered. Cute.

“Nice to meet you, Mark,” you extended your hand for him to shake it, smiling more brightly at the way he giggled like an infatuated high-school girl. Everything seemed to be funny to him and it was endearing. He took your hand into his delicately and allowed you to shake it in a friendly manner when your heart started pounding ridiculously fast and you felt the room move around you. Mark’s hard squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality and you saw his body visibly wobbling as he closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “Mark?” you called his name worriedly, but he only whispered your name weakly before he collapsed on the floor with a thud.

“M-mark?” you breathed out, still trying to calm down your own fluttering heart. You knelt down next to his unconscious body and only then you noticed he was covered in sweat. “Shit. Hey, Mark!” you insisted, giving his face a gentle slap with hopes of waking him up. No response. You tried to stand up to go get help, but for some reason you had no strength in your legs. “Jeonghan!” you screamed as loud as you could. Few seconds later, Jeonghan burst into the potions room, his face incredibly pale and eyes wide open, this being the first time he had heard you scream like that. He looked from your terrified face to the motionless man on the floor, trying to assess damage. Immediately after came Haechan, carrying a basket full of different products, which he almost dropped when he saw the state his pack brother was in. 

“What happened?!” Jeonghan asked, kneeling down and wrapping an arm over your shoulders protectively. 

“I d-don’t know! I just shook his hand,” you said.

 Haechan, who had been checking Mark’s pulse, moved his hand from his wrist to his forehead, confirming that he was burning up. “So he became like this right after you touched him?” he asked, staring at you intently, his tone indicating that he knew something you didn’t. 

“I guess? I…I really didn’t do anything to him, I swear!” your voice shook, thinking you were being accused of harming such a nice guy. You tried to stand up but, again, your weak legs pulled you back to the floor and you let out a frustrated groan as Jeonghan helped you reach a chair. 

“Are you okay?” your friend asked you anxiously, stabilizing you on the chair.

“I’m fine!” you sighed. “I’m probably just nervous. I’m not used to people fainting in front of me- Why haven’t you called an ambulance yet?!” you urged him.

“No need,” Haechan interrupted you before Jeonghan could pull his phone out of his pocket. “This is just his rut. It was due a couple of days, but I guess it came early,” he explained, his eyes shining too excitedly for someone whose friend was unconscious on the floor. He chuckled under his breath like the whole situation was amusing. “He’s fine. He just needs to get home and rest.I’ll ask someone to pick us up,” he added, quickly typing on his phone.

 In less than 20 minutes, an old fashioned vehicle pulled up by the store, a man hurriedly getting off the car and making his way to the entrance, stopping midtrack once he opened the door and found himself surrounded by adult toys. 

“Yeah, yeah, this is a sex shop. People have sex, surprise!” Haechan said sarcastically, gesturing to the newcomer to come in. 

“How’s he?” the intimidatingly tall man asked, after clearing his throat and taking long strides towards where you were. Thankfully, the store was almost empty when the whole incident had taken place, so Jeonghan had quickly kicked the remaining customers out and closed the store, helping Haechan move Mark to a more comfortable place while you got some wet towels to reduce his fever. Now Mark was lying on an improvised bed made of blankets and clothes, almost looking like he was taking a peaceful nap. 

“He’s fine, Johnny,” Haechan chuckled. “Our little Mark is just a bit overwhelmed.”

Johnny turned to you and Jeonghan and thanked you for taking care of his brother, before kneeling next to Mark and Haechan. “I didn’t know his rut was due today,” he muttered.

“Because it wasn’t,” Haechan simply said, giving Johnny a playful look. 

 Johnny stared back at him and raised his eyebrows. “Then what-” he trailed off when he saw Haechan tilting his head furtively towards you, the movement barely perceptible but enough to make Johnny look at you out of the corner of his eyes. Thankfully you were busy talking to Jeonghan, who did catch Johnny staring before the tall werewolf quickly turned his back towards him and tried to move Mark carefully. “Which one,” Johnny whispered only for Haechan to hear, to which Haechan mouthed ‘the girl,’ eliciting an impressed grin from Johnny. “Okay, Markie, let’s get you out of here,” Johnny’s voice was back to normal volume, lifting Mark off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder, Mark’s weak groan being the only sign that he was alive. Haechan followed after him, carrying bags of new toys with him and thanking you again for everything before exiting the shop and getting in the car. 

 Once you and Jeonghan were left alone in the store, you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeonghan asked.

“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, stretching your body now that your legs seemed to function properly. “This town has more werewolves than I thought,” you suddenly said. 

“I´ve heard about those guys. It’s a big pack that moved here a couple of years ago, and for some reason the number of members keeps increasing,” Jeonghan huffed as he moved towards the counter to close the cash register. “I also heard some of them are imprinting on humans,” he added slowly, looking at you attentively. 

“Imprinting,” you repeated unconvinced such a thing was ever real. “Do you really believe in that whole soulmate thing wolves have going on?”

Jeonghan hummed and seemed to focus on his task of counting bills. “How would I know? I’m not one of them,” he finally said. “It could be real.”

“It’s an ancient tradition. Someone probably came up with it to keep them from having sex with whoever they want,” you spitted.

“They can still have sex with whoever they want,” for some reason Jeonghan was defending werewolves’ outdated way of thinking. “But they are more likely to settle down once they find someone who is very important to them.”

“That's called commitment,” you fired back. “Which is not the same as being forced to like someone through imprinting.”

“They are also gifted,” Jeonghan continued matter of factly, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, like he didn’t like admitting to it. “Down there. Massive dicks.”

“Jeonghan, we literally sell toys that could satisfy me better than a traditionalist guy with attachment issues who thinks having a big dick makes him special,” you deadpanned. 

“Okay!” Jeonghan sighed and raised his arms defensively. “No need to be so defensive.”

“I’m not-,” you stopped yourself because you were in fact being defensive. Why did you care? Was it really because you hated old-fashioned ways of thinking? Was there something else bothering you? To be fair, you had been unnecessarily mean; you didn’t think any of the werewolves you just met were traditionalist assholes with attachment issues. Mark especially seemed like such a kind and chill guy. The type of guy you would have asked out on a date if he hadn’t passed out in front of you. Maybe that’s what bothered you: was Mark the type of werewolf who followed traditions to the extent he wouldn’t even give you a chance in order to prioritize his supposed mate? “Sorry, you’re right. It has nothing to do with me anyways.”

When Mark woke up, his head was throbbing and your lovely scent felt like a distant memory. His muscles ached when he sat up and he winced at the way his shirt stuck to his sweaty body. As he took the messy shirt off he heard a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” he croaked, after taking a proper look at his surroundings and recognising his own room. The door opened slowly and the youngest member of the pack slid into his room, carrying a glass of water and a little medication bottle. Mark could already tell what type of medication it was.

“They told me to give you these,” Jisung offered him the suppressants and waited until Mark had successfully opened the jar and taken a pill into his hands before offering the glass of water.

“Thanks,” Mark muttered before swallowing the pill and gulping down the content of the glass. 

“Do you need anything else?” The younger asked sympathetically.

“No,” Mark assured him, already having gone through his rut so many times he just knew there wasn’t much he could do about it besides fucking it out of his system, by himself or with somebody else. “I just have to wait for the suppressants to kick in and I’ll feel a bit better.”

“Do suppressants really help?” Jisung asked curiously. He had only had a rut once and he spent it with his mate, so he didn’t have to suffer as much as his older brothers. 

“They make the whole thing bearable,” Mark answered, cracking his neck and sighing tiredly. “But it’s still a pain in the ass,” he admitted.

“Is he awake?” Haechan’s voice called from the door. “You got me worried when I saw you unconscious on the floor, man. I calmed down because I understood what was happening, but you probably scared the shit out of the people who worked at the store. That poor girl didn’t know what to do,” he chuckled, inviting himself into the room and sitting on Mark’s bed. 

“Fuck,” Mark groaned at the reminder of such embarrasing first impression and he flopped into the bed. “Y/N…”

“Who is Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“That, little Jisung, would be Mark’s mate,” Haechan revealed and then looked at Mark for confirmation. “Am I right?” 

 Mark whined and covered his face with his palms, but he nodded. 

“And you met her thanks to who…?” Haechan continued, looking from Jisung to Mark , adding a dramatic pause. “Me! I was the one who took you to that sex shop!”

“S-sex shop?!” Jisung choked on his saliva and stared at Mark in shock as if he was waiting for him to tell him it was one of Haechan’s jokes. 

“That’s right,” Haechan laughed and then he gasped as he seemed to remember something. “Hold on, I got you something,” he suddenly said, standing up and leaving the room shortly,and coming back with a pair of handcuffs which he gave to Jisung. “Here. These are for the next time your mate tries to run away.”

Jisung’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared at the pink, fluffy handcuffs in his palms. “S-shut up!” He stuttered as aggressively as he could in spite of his voice cracking. “Noona’s not going anywhere,” he muttered to himself.

“Fine,” Haechan rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “Give them back if you don’t want them.”

“N-no,” Jisung said quickly and hid the gift behind his back. “You gave them to me.”

“Can you have this conversation somewhere else?!” Mark suddenly groaned. Haechan’s voice was making his headache worse and he really wanted some peace before his rut hit completely. And he definitely wanted to be alone when touched himself to the thought of you. 

The next few days were a blur. Mark lost count of how many times he cummed in his hand, on the bedsheets and finally in a fleshlight that Haechan sneaked into his room as a gift at some point. At first,  ready to reject whatever ridiculous toy he was bringing, he yelled at Haechan to get out and threw a shoe at him, which Haechan avoided just in time by leaving and closing the door behind him. But then Mark caught your scent. It was very faint, but he would recognise it anywhere. Dizzy, he got up, and crawled towards the fleshlight Haechan had left by the door. He inspected it , never before being so mesmerized by a toy, and bringing it close to his face to inhale your scent deeply. “Y/N…”

“I knew you would like it,” Haechan chuckled from the other side of the door, startling Mark. “It’s a small human size.I went to the store and made sure Y/N was the one selling it to me. I asked her to open the product and test it in front of me…,” he teased. “She stuffed her fingers inside of it to demonstrate how flexible the material is.”

Mark groaned and slid his tongue into the toy hungrily, trembling as he got to taste a bit of you before your scent faded away. 

“She asked about you.I told her you were fine and that you were sorry for scaring her. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her the fleshlight was for you,” Haechan continued, oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the door. “That Jeonghan guy is totally onto me though; he wouldn’t stop glaring at me like I’m the  biggest perv-,” she trailed off as he suddenly heard wet, slippery sounds, indicating that Mark had wasted no time in using his new gift. “Gross! Wait until I’m gone!” Haechan yelled and ran off. Mark was too gone to care, fucking into the toy with intent and imagining it was you. 

No matter how insufferable Haechan was, this would really help him get through his rut more easily. He should thank him later.Later. Now he really couldn’t think with anything but his cock. He let his animal instinct take over and he forgot about everything and everyone except you, and by the time he gained some self control and clarity back, he found the sticky fleshlight completely destroyed in his hands.He panted heavily as he grabbed some tissues to clean himself before he stood up and put some clothes on for the first time in days. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a bag hanging off the handle containing a bottle of water and some energy bars, which he quickly devoured before heading to take a shower. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jeno asked him as soon as he entered the living room where some of the younger members of the pack were hanging out. 

“I’m good,” Mark sighed. “This one was kind of intense, though…”

“We heard,” Jeno said, quickly correcting himself when Renjun nudged him and gave him a pointed look. “I mean, we can imagine.”

“The first rut after meeting your mate is hell if you don’t spend it together,” Jaemin butted in. 

“To be fair, your mate was particularly difficult,” Jeno told Jaemin. “She denied you for months.”

“Which I’m sure won’t be the case for Mark,” Jaemin assured Mark, who was squirming anxiously on his seat. “You already know her name and where to find her, and from what we heard she’s single.”

“Wha-how do you guys know that?”

“Haechan said he couldn’t smell anybody else’s scent on her, besides the guy who works with her,” Renjun clarified. “Just go see her when you feel better-”

 Renjun’s voice was overpowered by loud whines and complaints coming from the main door, where Haechan and Yangyang were making their entrance.

“I didn’t know!” Yangyang sighed tiredly, like he had been forced to repeat the same thing many times. 

“Well now you know, you little traitor,” Haechan hissed, pulling Yangyang’s arm and carrying him to the living room, where everyone stared at them wide-eyed. “Oh, look! Mark is here! Why don’t you tell him who you were planning on letting suck your dick?”

“Look, Mark,” Yangyang gulped, looking anywhere except Mark’s confused face, which was quickly morphing into one of apprehension. “I didn’t mean to- I just-...I was walking back from campus and I saw that new sex shop downtown and there was this hot-” he interrupted himself and looked at Haechan, who was raising his eyebrows at him, encouraging him to go on. “-a woman. I-I saw a woman who was hanging a sign outside the store, something about needing a volunteer to try a new potion. So I asked what it was about, and she said-...” he paused again and breathed in, knowing there was no nice way to say it. “She said it was something that would like, uh- turn off her gag reflex when doing oral, and that she needed a guy whose size was above average and when I asked how she was gonna test it, she said that-...that she tried all her potions herself…So like, she would be the one d-doing the…the sucking,” he trailed off, his voice going quiet as he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him.

“...You didn’t,” Renjun was the only one to speak. “...did you?”

“Ugh, I…,” Yangyang groaned. “I’m a man, okay? Why would I say no to a pretty girl sucking me off and giving me cash for it?!” 

“MARK’S MATE GAVE YOU A BLOWJOB?!” Jeno exclaimed incredulously. 

“NO!” Yangyang quickly shut him up and looked for Mark’s lifeless eyes before denying it again. “No. Nothing happened. I had an interview with her and a guy who works there. They measured my cock, asked for a sexual health check-up and told me to come back tomorrow with the results. I called Haechan to ask him about a good clinic to get tested and he practically jumped down my throat,” he explained nervously. “I…I really didn’t know.”

Everyone stayed silent, looking at Mark who was scarily quiet, clenching his jaw and looking at his own hands folded on his lap. “So? Are you going tomorrow?” he asked cautiously.

Yangyang shook his head quickly, but it was Haechan who  spoke. “He isn’t. But you should.”

“Me?!” Mark bawled out. 

“Do you want her sucking somebody else off?!” Haechan spit back. “If it’s not Yangyang, there will be another dude out there who’s willing to do it.”

“Haechan’s got a point there,” Jaemin agreed. “She’s gonna test that potion anyways, and you were lucky that the one finding out about it was one of our pack. She won’t be looking for somebody else because she’s expecting Yangyang to show up tomorrow. This is your chance.”

“But she’s expecting him, not me,” Mark said bitterly. 

“Not at all! She didn’t seem particularly interested in me. She just thought I was hygienic enough, I guess,” Yangyang laughed awkwardly. “It was kind of intimidating how professional she was about it, to be honest.”

“This is the plan,” Haechan asserted, like he had been waiting the entire time to show how much of a mastermind he was. “Yangyang’s gonna call tomorrow before his appointment and let them know that he had an accident or something,” he quickly explained, ignoring Yangyang’s whine of how bad he was at lying. “And then he’ll say that he sent someone to replace him and BOOM! You show up with your STD test results and your monster cock and she falls in love.”

“Then he would have to go get tested right now,” Renjun said, entertaining Haechan’s plan.

“No need!” Haechan laughed like he was revealing the biggest plot twist. “Because last week, I forced Mark to go with me to get my annual check up and he ended up getting tested since he was already there. Who saved the day again? ME!”

“Problem solved, then,” Jaemin beamed, like it was actually that easy.

 Mark nodded slowly and then, when he actually processed what he was agreeing to, he shook his head violently. “No, no way. I can’t do it.”

“What?!” Jeno asked. “Man, you have to!”

“I- I just can’t,” Mark stuttered.

“What, is she ugly?” Jeno asked incredulously. 

“No,” both Mark and Yangyang answered immediately. Mark narrowed his eyes and glared at Yangyang who didn’t seem to think he said anything wrong. “What? She really isn’t,” he tried to defend himself.

Mark sighed. “I literally just met her. I haven’t even asked her out. How am I supposed to-...do that?,” he admitted.

“I understand this may not be your ideal version of a fated meeting,” Renjun spoke in a calming manner. “But if you want to take things slowly, you must know that she will be testing all these…sex potions with somebody else. Are you okay with that?”

Mark shook his head and clenched his fists, biting his lip. Hell, no.  He could never be okay with anybody else touching you now that he met you. But that was exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t man up and showed up to get a platonic blowjob from his mate who didn’t know was his mate and would suck him off for science/magic purposes only. 

 And so, Mark found himself standing outside your store the next evening, wearing an expensive hoodie (to keep it casual, but not broke), gray sweatpants that, according to Haechan, accentuated the goods, brand new boxers and holding a neat folder with his check-up results printed in his hands.He took a deep breath in and stepped towards the door, before stopping himself again but this time the door opened from the inside,and  he was greeted with Jeonghan’s impassive face. 

“Are you gonna come in or not? It stresses me out to see you having whatever internal battle this is in front of my store,” Jeonghan said.

“No-I mean, yes! I was just about-...uh, my brother asked me to- well, he like, sent me to-...,” Mark struggled to get to the point and ended up just giving Jeonghan the folder he was holding. Jeonghan grabbed the folder with a puzzled look, which quickly became one of amusement as he opened it and understood what he had in his hands. 

“You’re Yangyang’s replacement?” he asked, his tone slightly playful.

“Uh, yes…if that’s okay,” Mark said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What if he wasn’t what they were looking for?

“Well, you’re clean and you seem to have a decent size,” Jeonghan pointed out, looking at Mark’s crotch shamelessly. “I’ll just need to ask you a few questions to make sure we’re good to go. You’re also allowed to ask us anything and back down if you feel it’s too much for you,” he explained, making space for Mark to enter the shop and then hanging a sign indicating that they were closed. He then guided Mark to the room where he had first met you before he had any time to prepare himself. “Hey, Y/N, look who’s back!”

You were not expecting to see Mark at all after what had happened last time. First of all, he had literally fainted in your store, which you thought was enough to make him not want to go back there ever. Secondly, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would casually go to a sex shop. But there he was, standing in front of you and stuttering something about wanting to volunteer for potion testing. As he was speaking, you found yourself looking down and vividly staring at his dick print, salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. When you looked back up, your eyes met Jeonghan’s knowing ones and you knew he had caught you red handed. Okay you had a tiny crush on this Mark guy, but what you were about to do was strictly professional. 

“Are you sure you’re okay doing this? Didn’t you go into rut recently?” you asked, indicating for him to sit down in the chair across yours, as Jeonghan took a sit next to you, going over some papers and taking notes. 

“I’m fine. Also…I’m sorry for last time,” Mark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It must have been shocking.”

“Don’t apologize for that. I-...” you quickly corrected yourself. “We are glad you’re okay. If you want to do this we need to ask you a few questions first, is that okay?”

When Mark nodded, Jeonghan shot the first question. “Are you a virgin?”

“N-no,” Mark stuttered. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”

“When was the last time you had sexual relationships?” you asked, trying not to make it noticeable that what you actually wanted to know was if he was seeing someone.

“Uh maybe 5 months ago? Or more, I’m not too sure, sorry.”

“No girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Jeonghan asked, even though that was not one of the questions on the list.

“No, I’m single,” Mark stated more confidently, his eyes darting towards you nervously. 

“Would you be willing to participate in future testing for our products?” you asked, again trying not to show how much you wanted him to say yes.

“Yes,” Mark said firmly, this time staring right into your eyes. He wanted you to call him and only him for whatever you wanted to test. You blushed a little, but quickly hid your face behind some papers you pretended to be reading.

“Did you like the fleshlight?” Jeonghan asked as quickly as Mark answered the previous question, again, not following the script.

“Yes,” Mark answered honestly, caught off guard, and blushing furiously when he properly understood  what he had just admitted. Shit. Fuck. Okay, Mark, keep it cool, nothing wrong with using a fleshlight. Just move on to the next question. “But I split it open, s-sorry,” fuck why would you tell them that, Mark?!

“Oh?” Jeonghan was having the time of his life. “How come? Our toys are very resistant.”

“The toy was g-great! Amazing quality, very soft,” Mark cringed at his own words, because he had no idea how to rate a sex toy and it showed. “It’s just that ruts are… rough,” he said for a lack of a better word to describe how wild things got when his wolf consumed him.

 You gulped and cleared your throat while Jeonghan let out an impressed whistle and took some notes. “I guess we need to make them even more resistant, then,” you said. “Anyways, Jeonghan is going to measure you now so I’ll step out for a minute and come back when you’re ready, okay?”

When Mark agreed, you left the room and went straight to the restroom to wash your face and calm yourself down. Did he really break the toy with his dick? Fuck, he was going to destroy your throat. But then, he was the perfect candidate to test the potion; if you could deep throat him, it meant your creation had been successful. You took a deep breath in and drank the anti-gagging potion before you made your way to the potions room, waiting for your sign to go in. Then Jeonghan came out and wiggled his eyebrows at you, chuckling.

“I’ll bring you some honey and lemon tea for your throat tomorrow,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the counter to count today’s cash. “He’s all yours.”

You rolled your eyes and walked in. “Mark? are you ready?”

 Mark was standing, adjusting the hem of his sweatpants around his hips, giving you a teaser of his defined abdomen and hipbones. He blushed, and nodded. “So… how should we do this?”

“Just take a seat and let me do the rest,” you instructed, quickly kneeling in front of the chair he was now sitting in.

“Y/N,” he suddenly called your name, and his hand stopped yours from pulling the elastic of his pants down.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, your heart dropping at the thought of being rejected. “Did you change your mind?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I was just wondering… Why are you trying the potion yourself? Couldn’t you have found somebody willing to test their gag reflex?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you muttered, distracting by the way his thumb was drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “But I find it hard to trust other people when it comes to feedback. This is my product so I want to make sure it works. Plus, I happen to have a strong gag reflex; everything makes me choke,” you shrugged, without noticing the way Mark’s breath stuttered. “So if someone can tell if this potion works, it’s me.”

Mark nodded and exhaled. “Is this the very first time you drink this potion?”

“No. I’ve tested it with inanimate objects, like some of the dildos we sell,” you said and Mark hoped you hadn’t noticed the way his dick twitched at the mental image of your pretty lips sucking on a toy. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna vomit all over you,” you chuckled, trying to ease the tension. You wanted Mark to relax, to feel safe with you. “Any more questions?”

 Oh, there was so much that Mark wanted to ask you, like what was your favorite color or if you liked flowers, but he knew it was not the right time, so he just shook his head and released your hand, letting you pull down the waistband carefully. Once you lowered his sweatpants slightly, you looked up at him, looking for any sign of discomfort, but besides the intense blushing that covered his face and ears, he seemed fine, so you took it further by pulling his boxers down enough to release his cock and you gasped out loud. Now you could understand how he managed to destroy the fleshlight.

When you stared at his dick for way too long,Mark got the wrong idea. “You d-don’t have to-“ he tried to say but he ended up hissing when you took him in your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s perfect,” you murmured before remembering you had to keep it professional. “For testing, I mean.”

“O-okay, okay g-glad to hear-ooh!” Mark definitely shouldn’t be trying to have a conversation right now. You had barely touched him and he was already half hard. He should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t even think when you were in your knees between his legs and stroking his cock like that.

 On your side, you knew you didn’t need to be jerking him off. The deal was just to put it in your mouth and see if it could reach your throat without gagging you, but it was like you had no control over your actions right now. Just like last time you had seen Mark, your heart was fluttering and you felt lightheaded and all you wanted was for him to feel good.

 Carefully, you flicked the head of his cock with your tongue, causing his back to arch and his hips to chase your mouth. “S-sorry,” he quickly apologized, already panting. 

“It’s fine,” you purred, your tone a bit too seductive to be professional. Fuck what was Mark doing to you? You were basically drooling as you trailed your tongue from the base to the tip. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

“Fuck,” Mark moaned, throwing his head back and clenching his fist on his sides, not quite knowing what to do with himself. “Y-yes,” he consented.

 You didn’t waste more time, guiding the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking softly, and delighting on the hushed curses that left Mark’s mouth. You worried the problem wouldn’t be your gag reflex; you had underestimated his girth, which was making it difficult to even fit him between your lips. You worked on relaxing your jaw and took a bit more of his cock in, trying your best not to let your teeth scratch him.

“Shit…Y/N,”  Mark sobbed, trembling under you, when his tip met your throat and you successfully swallowed around him.  One of his hands grabbing the hem of his hoodie and lifting it enough to expose his tense lower abdomen. You looked up through your eyelashes, enamored by the way his brows furrowed in pleasure and his chest rose and fell. Before you could think about what you were doing, your hands traveled up, caressing his waist and stomach, which contracted under your hands. Your head bobbed up and down slowly, still trying to remind yourself to be careful of his size in spite of his soft moans driving you crazy.

“Mark,” you call for him, swirling your tongue around the tip teasingly. “Mark,” you repeat when he doesn’t reply, eyes unfocused and mouth agape as he panted. He acknowledged you with a soft ‘hmm?’ and you spoke again. “I need you to fuck my mouth now,” you spoke casually, like you were talking about the weather and Mark could have died right there.

“Wha-,” he stuttered, trying not to panic. “W-what?!”

“I need to check if the potion is still effective when things get rough,” you blushed, hoping not to sound too desperate. In your defense, it was for the sake of the experiment, but a part of you really wanted Mark to fuck your mouth. “You don’t want to?” you whispered, suddenly considering that maybe he wasn’t into you and was only doing this for the money. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as you thought. And that shouldn’t bothering you, but it was.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, trying to ignore how hard he was and how badly he did want to face-fuck you. “I’m-...I’m stronger than I look, Y/N. I would ruin you.”

“That’s the point,” you simply said, again trying to help him relax, but also god, did you want it. Mark groaned and clenched his eyes closed, a bead of precum sliding down the head of his cock to your hand that was jerking him off slowly. “So, no?” you asked one last time. Mark bit his lip and avoided your eyes, and you felt officially rejected. “That’s fine, I won’t force you,” you accepted your defeat, trying not to be too bitter about it, slowly letting go of his dick and getting ready to stand up and leave with some dignity. “Please tell Yangyang to come whenever he has time-”

 Now, that seemed to do it for Mark. Before you could stand up or finish speaking, he tangled his hand in your hair and pushed your head down onto him roughly. A guttural moan left his lips and you whined in surprise and looked up to him; his eyes had turned red and his jaw was clenched. Without a word he pulled your hair a little and thrusted his hips up sharply, causing you to let out a muffled cry. 

“Like this?” he panted, placing both his hands on your head and moving you up and down his length fast, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. “Is this what you w-wanted?” he growled, not even hiding how irritated he was at the thought of you sucking off his pack brother. The way your jaw stretched for him was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t deny this side of Mark was turning you on. You found yourself wondering if this was the way he treated that poor fleshlight. You also wondered if he had, at least for a second, thought of you during his rut. You moaned around him and his eyes rolled back. “Fuuuuck.”

 He quickly brought his eyes back to look at you, like he didn’t want to miss a single detail and thrusted his hips up into your mouth at the same time he guided your head up and down his cock, his moans becoming louder and more desperate, completely forgetting that Jeonghan could probably hear everything from the other room. You looked so pretty, and he hoped you knew that, so he said it.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he said, one of his hands caressing your cheek, while his other hand kept your head in place to take his slower but more forceful thrusts and swallow the salty precum that for some reason tasted addictive to you. You looked up to him, surprised at the sudden gentle words. You knew for a fact there was no way you looked pretty when you were a drooling mess, with sloppy hair and a dick down your throat, but his mouth hanging open in pleasure, forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and the way he looked at you with those intense red eyes filled with lust and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on somehow made you feel like the prettiest girl on earth. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length and Mark finally lost it, letting out a loud moan that sounded like your name mixed with profanities as hot and thick liquid invaded your tastebuds. Mark kept your head right there while he rode the aftershocks of his orgasm, making sure you swallowed every drop and caressing your hair and praising you until he lost all strength and let his body relax on the chair, releasing the hold he had on you. You let go of his cock with a soft ‘pop’, pulled his pants and boxers back up and rested your head on his thigh, trying to catch your breath and clenching your thighs to get some relief, incredibly aroused. 

“W-was that okay?” Mark asked after a while, hoping you didn’t hate him.

“Yeah…” you replied dreamingly, feeling lightheaded. “Perfect.”

“Y/N,” Mark breathed out, caressing your hair and looking at you lovingly. “Can I…Would you let me make you feel good too?”

“Huh?” you croaked, looking up at him. Mark inhaled deeply and sighed, focusing his eyes on your crotch and then you remembered that wolves had an enhanced sense of smell.He could surely smell how wet you were. How embarrassing. “Oh, no! Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up too quickly and almost falling because your legs were not ready for that. Mark immediately stood up and caught you in his arms, pulling your body and face dangerously close to his. “I- it’s…,” you tried to speak, but it was hard when Mark was close enough to kiss you. “You don’t h-have to, r-really,”

“I want to,” Mark whispered like he was hypnotized, licking his lips and staring at yours hungrily. “Please let me…” 

 Oh, he was trouble. You wanted to say yes to anything he asked from you. But your prideful side reminded you that you had had to basically beg him to fuck your mouth. It wasn’t like he actually wanted you. “No need,” you finally said, pushing him away gently and turning around to search for his payment. You came back to him and offered him an envelope with cash. “Thank you for your help. It looks like the potion works perfectly,” you said politely, becoming your professional persona again, much to Mark’s disappointment. 

He looked from the envelope to your face, until he remembered that, according to you, what had just happened was all business. The fact that you would go on thinking that he would just let anyone suck him off for money made him feel physically ill, but then, he is the one who showed up for the job. He looked away and nodded, before taking the envelope and stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, without sparing it a glance. “No problem,” he muttered, dragging his feet towards the exit, but he stopped himself after a couple of steps, addressing you. “Hey, Y/N! Uh… do you, like, maybe- I was wondering if you,” just ask for her number,dude. Why can’t you do it?! “Is there any other potion you need to try?” he asked instead. Mark, you fucking loser.

“Uh…” you pondered for a few seconds. You would love to see him again, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. But he did say he would be willing to participate in future testing during the interview. “There’s something I’m working on these days,” you admitted shyly, shifting around because of the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs. 

“Call me,” Mark said quickly. “Whenever you want to try a new product, call me first,” he added, pointing at the folder where Jeonghan had written all his information, including his phone number. “I’ll t-try them out… with you.”

“O-okay,” you knew you were blushing and you couldn’t even hide the small smile on your lips. Again, you tried not to let it get to your head; for all you knew he could just be desperate for more cash. “We’ll let you know.”

 As soon as Mark got home, he was met with uncountable indiscreet questions. The entire house, and maybe the neighborhood knew he had been out there getting a blowjob.

“Did she fall for you?” Haechan asked, coming from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne ready to be opened. 

“Not even close,” Mark grunted. 

“What?!” he lowered the bottle, disappointed.”What happened?!” 

“She gave me the best orgasm of my life and then gave me money,making it very clear it had been for the sake of her business,” Mark muttered, plopping on the couch as his brothers surrounded him with curious eyes. “Didn’t even let me return the favor…”

“So this is it?” Chenle butted in. “You’re giving up?”

“No, I… I told her I was willing to volunteer to test other products and she said she would let me know if something came up.”

Some of the guys gave each other skeptical looks, communicating with their eyes that they thought you wouldn’t call Mark.

“No. You’re going to that store every damn day if you have to,” Haechan said stubbornly.

“Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it will work for everyone,” Mark sighed, remembering how Haechan had showed up in their mate’s store everyday for months to win her over. “A guy going to a sex shop everyday? She’ll think I’m a perv.”

“Persistence is key,” Haechan insisted, but Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He stood up and left to lock himself in his room, leaning against the door. He took the cash envelope out of his pocket and threw it somewhere on the floor, letting out a frustrated groan. He should have asked for your number like a normal man interested in a woman. Why did he have to be such a coward? He probably wouldn’t hear from you again.

…But he did. After a couple of weeks of him watching the store from afar (while Haechan straight up went to the store and bought whatever just to make sure you weren’t testing any potions with somebody else), one morning he got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” he murmured lethargically, still half asleep.

“Hello? Is this, uh…Mark Lee?” your voice asked on the other side of the line.

“Y/N, shit-,” he sat up immediately as soon as he recognised your voice. “Sorry, I was- Y-yes, this is M-mark.”

“Hi, Mark, this is Y/N ,from Pandora’s Box,” you introduced yourself even though you had clearly heard him say your name. “We were wondering if you were still interested in helping us test our products,” you recited just like you had practiced a thousand times before making the call.

“Yes, please!” Mark answered way too quickly. “I mean, I would love to- I… sure, I can help.”

“Would you be available Saturday night?”

“Y-yeah, Saturday sounds great,” honestly, he would have showed up in his pajamas right now if you had asked him to.

“Great! I’ll text you the address. Save my number!” you said quickly and hung up before he could question if it all had been a dream. You put the phone down and glared at Jeonghan. “Happy now?” you asked him sarcastically and he laughed.

“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked back. He had been teasing you ever since the last time Mark had visited the store. Being your best friend meant he could immediately tell when you liked someone and you really really liked Mark. So Jeonghan, being the good friend he was, had been pestering you day and night to call Mark directly instead of recruiting new volunteers to test your potion. 

Still on his bed, Mark was having a thousand different thoughts a second. You’d said you would send him an address. So you wouldn’t meet at the store? And you also told him to save your number… so the phone you used to call him had to be yours, right? Oh god, was this like a date? Just then, a notification of a message from the same number popped up, informing him of the address he had to go to the next day. Nothing more, and nothing less. He bit his lip nervously. Why did you have to keep treating everything like a job? Would it kill you to send an emoji? But he told himself this was no time to be pessimistic. You had called him, and that was a good start.

 And here he was now, on a Saturday night, ringing the bell of an apartment and trying to control his anxiety. 

“Mark?” He was met with your flustered face when you opened the door, wearing an oversized shirt that had him wondering if you were completely bare under it. “You’re early!” you said, pulling the hem of the shirt lower to cover you better. “S-sorry, come in! I’ll just get changed quickly.”

“You don’t have to!” Mark said way too fast, having a hard time to stop looking at your thighs. “I m-mean, you can if you want to, but I…I don’t mind… like, at all.”

You blushed and stared at Mark, not knowing how to reply to that, because he was obviously checking you out.

“I mean, this is your house,” Mark stated. It wasn’t a question; your scent was everywhere. “You get to wear whatever you want, right?” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t making it that obvious that he didn’t want you to cover up. “Why are we meeting here, by the way?”

“I thought some privacy would be nice,” you said, remembering how Jeonghan made fun of you because of how loud Mark had been last time. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not all all.”

“Cool,” you sighed. “I just need to add a couple of ingredients and the potion will be ready. Make yourself at home,” you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding not to change clothes, partly because your current outfit was comfortable, but mostly because you secretly enjoyed Mark’s eyes on your body.

Instead of finding a seat and killing time on his phone, Mark followed you, hoping you didn’t mind some company. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you do your thing, trying to come up with something to say to start a conversation.

“How’s your throat?” he finally asked, watching you almost drop the spoon you were holding. 

“Fine,” you gave him a short answer. He didn’t need to know you could barely speak for a couple of days after you deepthroated him.

“Good to hear,” he whispered, watching you with doting eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed. Maybe it was because your aroma was surrounding him, but he found himself feeling more relaxed and open to speak without filtering his words.

“You didn’t hurt me,” you assured him, not daring to look at him and focusing on your potion instead. “You were…really good.”

“Yeah?” he purred, feeling lightheaded by the domestic view of you wearing nothing but an oversized shirt in the kitchen, wishing he could see this everyday of his life.

“Y-yeah,” you gulped,feeling his eyes boring into you. “Okay, uh-I’m gonna need a drop of your blood,” you changed the topic quickly.

“Sure,” Mark didn’t even question it. You could have all of him. He walked towards you and let you grab his hand, using a needle to prick his index finger as fast and unpainfully as you could, letting a single drop of his blood pour into the cauldron. Immediately after, you did the same to your own finger, letting your blood mix with his in the potion. “What does this potion do?” Mark asked.

You gave him a surprised look. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone?”

Mark shook his head, chuckling. You remembered how you were so nervous you hung up on him as soon as he agreed to help.

“And you still came? Without even knowing-” you gasped when Mark took your hand into his and slid your injured finger into his mouth, softly sucking on it.

“Does it hurt?” he asked gently, giving it little licks,  completely forgetting the conversation you were having just now.

“N-no,” you sighed, confused and nervous at the loving way Mark had been behaving ever since he entered your place. Maybe he was just being nice and you were imagining things. “Anyways, about the potion,” you raised your voice in panic, removing your hand from his and going back to mixing the potion. “It will make you feel what your partner feels. This way, people can know if what they are doing is enjoyable and no one needs to fake their orgasms.”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, now pouring the bright pink potion in two different glasses and offering one to him.

“Faked an orgasm?”

“Of course. Not like men care enough to check,” you said, hearing Mark tsk next to you. “So, after we drink this potion, I would need you to touch yourself,” you swallowed nervously, hoping not to scare Mark away with your straightforwardness. “ Nothing too wild, just something that feels good to you and we’ll see if I feel it too… if you are still up for it?”

Mark raised an eyebrow and straight up drank the potion, not leaving a single drop behind. He wouldn’t even dream of letting you try that out with somebody else. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head towards your glass. You hesitated for a moment before drinking the potion too.

“S-so, you can use the bathroom and uh-...do whatever you need t-to do,” you stuttered nervously, showing him where the bathroom was and letting him have some privacy. You assumed he would probably need to watch some porn on his phone or something, but you had no idea your scent already had him on edge. As soon as you sat down on the sofa, you felt a tingling sensation on your neck, which traveled to your shoulders and then your arms. And then it clicked; you were feeling his fingers. He was gently caressing his own body like he would to a lover and you could feel it on yourself. You gasped when the invisible fingers ran down your chest and grazed your nipples softly before toying with them. Oh fuck, the potion really worked.

Mark never took his sweet time like this when touching himself, but just thinking that he was indirectly touching you made him want to seize the opportunity. He closed his eyes and let his hands move like they were exploring your body. He teased himself by running his hands up and down his abdomen several times, always stopping at the waistband before sneaking only the tip of his fingers in, imagining you begging him to get to it.

In the other room, you were mentally begging for him. His faint touches had you trembling and wanting to touch yourself. You didn’t, because you knew he would feel it if you were pleasuring yourself and it would be embarrassing, but god you wanted to. Thankfully, Mark seemed to have mercy on himself-on you- and slid his hand past his boxers, fully palming himself and letting out a moan that echoed past the bathroom walls. You bit your lip to suppress the moan that almost escaped you, quickly crossing your legs at the sudden stimulation, arching your back when you felt slow circles being drawn on your clit. Shit, he was teasing the head of his cock, going from slow big circles to tiny fast ones that had you squirming on your seat. That’s when it hit you that he wasn’t doing this to himself, but to you. This fucker was doing it intentionally. 

 Mark started stroking his cock furiously, knowing it would take you by surprise and smirking victoriously when he heard a whine coming from the living room. He was so thankful for his enhanced hearing right now, because he could hear every little gasp you let out like you were right in front of him. When he felt himself close to his climax he stopped moving his hand and chuckled at the way you whimpered. He pulled his pants back up and exited the bathroom to find you in the living room.

“Did it work?” he asked innocently, trying not to laugh at your frustrated, blushing face. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again and nodded. He eyed you up and licked his lips, before sitting on the couch in front of you. “Shouldn’t we test if it works both ways?”

“W-what?” you croaked, breathing heavily. 

“Don’t you need to know if I feel what your body feels too?” he asked, scanning your body carefully.

Even in your aroused state, you knew he was making sense. Plus, you were so close and desperate to cum you didn’t care if it was embarrassing anymore. But you also wanted to get back at him for teasing you. So you obliged, sliding one of your hands under your shirt right there in front of him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he saw what you were doing.He was a bit disappointed when he saw that you were in fact wearing a pair of shorts under your shirt, but he wasn’t going to complain when he had you groping your tits in front of him. He sighed shakily at the way you floundered your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples.

“Can you feel it?” you asked.

Mark licked his lips and shifted on his seat. If he admitted he felt it, would it be over?Would you give him money and kick him out again? He had to make it last. “I-...I’m not too sure. My nipples are not very sensitive so m-maybe…you could touch somewhere else?” he asked hopefully, letting his eyes fixate on your crotch. 

“You’re not sensitive there?” you teased, sliding your hands down your stomach to your shorts. “But you were touching them so much earlier…”

“Did you like it?” he asked hopefully, his body leaning forward and falling on his knees on the floor, slowly crawling towards you and breathing heavily..

“This isn’t about my pleasure,” you sighed, your words contradicting how wet you were when your fingers made contact with your pussy.

“Why not?” Mark asked, on his knees in front of you, looking at your fingers move up and down under the fabric of your shorts.He swallowed back a moan at the way your teasing touch felt on his own body thanks to the potion. “Why can’t it be?”

“I just w-want the best for my b-business,” you said stubbornly between moans, getting closer to your orgasm when a pair of strong hands stopped yours from moving and you gasped. “M-mark?” 

“Then we should test this shit right, don’t you think?” Mark asked through gritted teeth, his eyes displaying the same red color you saw when he fucked your throat weeks ago. 

“T-test it right?” you repeated dumbly, as he took your hand out of your shorts.

“Do you normally just meet up with sexual partners, watch each other touch themselves and call it a day?” Mark asked you nonchalantly. 

“N-no, but…”

“Isn’t the entire point of this to feel if our partner likes what we do to them?” he clarified, gently placing his hands on each of your knees.

 You froze at his words. Was he suggesting you touched each other? You already liked him way too much for what would be a normal crush. You knew you would fall for him badly if you two went any further.

“Let me,” Mark pleaded, moving his palms up and down your thighs and applying more pressure on a spot on your inner thigh he literally felt you liked better. 

Would it really be that bad to give in? To enjoy yourself a little? To allow yourself to feel something for him?

“Okay…” you finally said and Mark didn’t waste a single second more, pulling your tiny shorts off and groaning at the sight of your wet panties sticking to your pussy. He licked you languidly through the thin fabric and moaned loudly at both the way you tasted and his own body receiving the pleasure he was giving you. 

“O-oh my god,” he whined leaning back in, this time more aggressively, moving his head up and down and lapping and sucking brutally.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, trying to close your legs around Mark’s head, who didn’t seem to care at all. He hummed and slid his hands up your thighs to your ass, grabbing your buttcheeks and pushing you against him harder, which made you tremble and throw your head back. “Mark, oh god, M-mark I’m-...I’m gonna-”

Mark knew. He felt how close you had been to coming so many times in the last half an hour. He himself was close too, so he used one of his hands to stroke himself in sync with his tongue, bringing both of you to such a powerful orgasm you couldn’t even moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tensed. Your legs fell off Mark’s shoulders as he continued licking you obsessively. 

“Mark,” you moaned, trying to push his head away weakly. “I’m s-sensitive, Mark.”

Again, he knew. He was trembling himself at the overstimulation, but he didn’t want it to end. “Please,” he whined when you managed to put some distance between you. “Just a little bit more, please,” he begged desperately tugging at your panties which ended up tearing apart in his hands. You gasped and he looked at the ruined material he was holding in his hands. He seemed as confused as you were. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he muttered. You remembered how he had told you that he was stronger than he looked, how he had broken one of your best selling toys and now he had destroyed a pair of panties without even trying. Fuck, the things he could do to you. 

You loved it.

You loved him.

Wait, what? You knew your crush on him was weird, because of how your body reacted to your first encounter, how your mind would go to him 24/7 and how you really wanted him to…bite you?? You looked at him, on his knees, staring back at you cautiously; almost like he could tell what you were thinking, like he felt what you felt not only physically…but emotionally. The potion had worked so well, you could feel everything the other felt. The lust, love, possessiveness, the need he had to mate you, you felt it all. 

He had imprinted on you.

“Y/N…” he could sense it; you were terrified. He reached for your hand, but you quickly stood up, pulling your shirt down and walking away from him with wobbly legs, ignoring your ripped panties sliding down your legs. “Y/N, come on…” he called, standing up and going after you, stopping when you turned back to him, offering him an envelope with his payment. 

“Thank you for your help,” you said robotically, looking at the door instead of him, indicating it was his time to leave. 

Mark glared darkly at the damn envelope in your hands. There you went again, being intimate with him, making him feel like his heart could burst out of happiness and then throwing cash at him like he was a hooker. Why did you have to make it feel so dirty? He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to let you go, but maybe he shouldn’t push it too hard. Maybe you needed some space and you could talk later.

“Keep the money,” he sighed, walking uncomfortably towards the door due to the stickiness in his pants. “See you.”

“You won’t,” you spitted, flinching when he turned around quickly and glared at you. “We w-won’t be calling you for future testing.”

Mark tightened his jaw and stared at you for what felt like an entire minute before he decided he was done being the nice guy. Fuck it. If this was the last time he would see you, he wanted to at least know what your fucking problem was. 

“Why not?” he asked, walking towards you and feeling the anxiety build up in your body while you took some steps back. “Didn’t I satisfy you?”

You looked away. You knew it wasn’t fair to treat him like he was part of a transaction, but you didn’t think you were ready for what a wolf imprinted on you meant.

“We came at the same time, didn’t we? We felt everything the other person felt-we still do,” he continued, chuckling when he felt the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Didn’t I prove my worth as a test subject? Aren’t I the perfect little toy you wanted?”

His words were playful, but you felt the pain and anger behind them.

“You’re not a toy,” you said as firmly as you could.

“Then don’t treat me like one,” Mark growled. 

“When did I ever-”

“You keep shoving money into my pocket and kicking me out as soon as you’re done with me-”

“That was the deal!” you yelled exasperatedly.

“Screw the deal!” he raised his voice too. “ I can literally feel how much you want me. How much you want me to stay. So why are you making me leave? How long are you going to play with my feelings?” he paused, taking a deep breath in and trying to tune into your emotions, trying his best to understand you. “Are you-...afraid of me?” The way your level of anxiety skyrocketed gave him the answer he needed. “Why? B-because I’m a werewolf? Because of my strength?” he asked sadly.

“No, that’s…that’s not a problem for me,” you admitted shyly. Not wanting to say you were into that.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked.

“You imprinted on me,” you confronted him.

“...Yes,” he calmly confessed.

“These…feelings,” you tried to explain, pointing at your body vaguely. “All these things you’re feeling right now, and that now I can feel too… do you- do you feel them all the t-time?”

“Yeah, especially when I think about you,” he sighed. “...which is pretty much all the time.”

“H-how-” you breathed with difficulty. “How do you c-control them? They are so…intense.”

“I don’t,” Mark simply said. “I tried to tone them down at first, but I just made it harder for myself. I accept them and let them control me once in a while.”

“L-let them control you?!” you repeated incredulously. 

“Ah, so this is what this is about,” Mark threw his head back and let out a breathy laugh. “You have control issues.”

 You scoffed, walking angrily towards the kitchen. Not that you had anything to do there, you just wanted to get away.

“Am I wrong?” he challenged, chasing after you. “You’re annoyed because you can’t control the way you feel for me,” he cornered you against the kitchen counter, making you face his red eyes. “And you can’t control me.”

 You visibly shivered at that. “Mark…” 

“I came here because I wanted you. I ate you out because I’ve wanted to taste you since I first saw you. I love feeling this way about you and I have no intention of controlling it,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you, leaving almost no space between you.

 You breathed heavily. His feelings were too intense for your body to take. “Then who’s g-going to be in control?” you asked nervously.

He chuckled. “None of us,” he replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just let go,” he purred against your lips. “Allow yourself to feel it. Feel me.”

So you did. You crashed your lips against his and brought his body into yours desperately, tugging at his hair and moaning wantonly. He cursed under his breath and shoved his tongue into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. You pulled away to breath, which was still hard with how tense you were. “Relax,” Mark murmured, kissing down your neck and nipping at your collarbones. “Feel everything. I got you, pretty girl.”

 You inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling all tension leave your body while Mark’s mouth and hands worshiped your body. A warm sensation filled you and a shiver ran down your spine when you allowed yourself to lose control. “F-fuck, oh my god, Mark-” you moaned out loud when he took your shirt off and attached himself to your tits, licking them obscenely. There was nothing soft and gentle about the way you both were behaving, with your fingers pulling his hair and him humping you desperately, like you both couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that you could feel anything the other could, made it a thousand times more intense. 

“F-fuck I’m gonna cum like this,” Mark whined, rutting his clothed cock against your bare pussy faster, burying his head between your breasts and holding your body tightly against his. The constant friction on your clit had you gasping for air and you soon felt yourself cumming, staining his pants and shaking at the second orgasm you two had shared that night. 

Before you had any time to recover, Mark lifted you off the ground and sat you on the kitchen counter, taking his shirt off and stepping out of his pants and boxers carelessly. He positioned himself between your legs and pressed his naked body against yours, bringing your lips to his for another passionate kiss, and allowing his hands to touch every corner of you. 

Unconsciously you found yourself pressing your hips into his, moaning at the wet sounds that could be heard whenever his cock moved against your wet pussy. He was panting heavily into the messy kiss, physically shaking because of how much he wanted to be inside of you.

“Put it in, god, please, put it in,” you begged him.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, giving you one last kiss before lining up his cock with your entrance and wincing when he could barely slide the tip in. “Y/N, y-you can’t take it-”

“I can, please-please Mark I...,” you slurred your words, grabbing his hips and trying to force him deeper into you. “I c-can.”

“You’re in pain, Y/N,” Mark hissed. The effects of the potion had faded away, but he wasn’t an idiot. He only needed to look at his size and then at yours.

“But, Mark,” you whined, kissing a spot on his neck that had him moaning out loud. “I really want it.”

He took a moment to think.He wanted it too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. 

“J-just go slowly, hmm?” you suggested as an alternative to stopping completely. 

Mark nodded. Slow, yeah. He could do that. “D-don’t move,” he warned you, sliding just a tiny bit more of his huge dick into your tight wet hole and groaning when your walls contracted around him. Okay, maybe he couldn’t do it. “Y/N, don’t do that…”

 He looked up to your face and saw that it was pointless to give you any orders right now. Your unfocused eyes and the way you bit your lip created an erotic sight that he would never be able to forget. “Fuck, Y/N” he pushed into you some more while looking at your blissful face and laughed in disbelief. “You’re fucking loving this, aren’t you?” he asked. When you only nodded dumbly, he inhaled sharply and kissed you hungrily, snapping his hips into yours harshly and holding your spasming body against his.

“Shit, d-did you just come?!” Mark asked incredulously, delivering kisses on the corner of your lips and all over your face while you sobbed. “You’re f-fucking insane, did you k-know that?” he spoke as he started fucking you fast and rough from the get go. “So pretty and s-sensitive, just for me.”

“S-so big,” you cried out.

“Yeah?” he cooed, changing the way he was fucking you to slow but deep. “Too big for my pretty girl?” god, he just loved how your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached blindly for something to hold onto, dropping a few kitchen supplies into the floor. “But you said you c-could take it, didn’t you?” he asked, thrusting into you particularly hard and making you scream.

“I gah-I c-can, I can,” you insisted, tears running down your face, which Mark quickly wiped off before he kissed you. “F-uh, faster-” you whined in between kisses.

“Faster?” Mark’s crimson eyes gleamed mischievously, and his hips snapped into yours fast twice, teasing you. “Is this no good?” he asked, resuming his slow pace at sliding in and out of you. You shook your head and tried to bring him closer with your legs around his waist. “Don’t you want to feel every.inch.of.me?” he hissed, accentuated each of the last words with sharp thrusts into your pussy.

You murmured something that Mark couldn’t quite understand, so he stopped his movements to let you catch your breath. “What was that?” he asked you, caressing your cheek. “Tell me, pretty girl.”

“B-bite me…” you croaked weakly.

 Mark’s cock twitched inside of you and it took all of his self control not to come right in that moment. 

“Don’t play with me, Y/N…” he warned you.

You shook your head, moving your hips against his and pulling his hair to bring him dangerously close to your neck. He gasped, salivating at the chance he was being given.

“Bite me, Mark…” you repeated and shuddered when he snarled against your skin and sank his teeth into your neck. You mewled and threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders. “O-oh god, Mark, M-mark fuck-ah!” 

 Without detaching his mouth from your neck, Mark went back to fucking you, this time fast and animalistically like you had asked him to, the pace so fierce that your moans were coming out as staccatos. 

“Uh-uh-aah-ah fuck-fuck, Ma-ark!” you sobbed, sure he was gonna break you, but loving every second of it. 

Mark could not stop as his cock started growing inside of you. “Y/N, Y/N shiiit gonna-...gonna k-knot you fuh- fuck, s-so pretty,” he panted against your neck, giving it gentle kisses as an apology for what he was about to do. “Oh, fuck- ooooh yeah, y-yeah-” he gasped and plunged into you viciously fast, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head and drooling all over your neck  as his abdomen contracted and spurts of cum spilled into you, knot securing it all inside your tight pussy. “Y/N-...Y/N, fuck,” he groaned as you scratched his back, leaving angry red marks all over him.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out once his fluttering heart calmed down enough for him to speak. “My pretty girl,” he purred, pecking your neck and then looking for your lips to kiss you lovingly. “All mine.”

“Yours,” you murmured against his lips, allowing him to kiss you again and again. "And you're mine."

“Does that mean you won’t try your potions on other men?” he asked you, half joking, half serious. 

“Why would I need to? You’re my perfect little toy, after all,” you teased him back, making him groan at the way you used his own words against him. “I’m joking.You’re not a toy,” you clarified, kissing him sweetly and looking into his eyes. “But you’re perfect.”

[sambuuck-illuminated]

Hello! I'm contacting you as one of the mods in PokeMagma events. We have noted your amazing contribution to the session, it's really well drawn! ^^ But unfortunately we are concerned about whether the image is suitable for the session-- Like you know everyone is welcome to the session as long as they follow the rules. One of our rules is "keep it PG." We have noted that it's a very vague rule and we actually forgot to add some clarification to it. So we have now added: "Any questionable ship content is off limits, either directly or suggested." This is not your fault! We should've been more clear about it before.

Our problem is that you're giving exposure to your au's that have blankshipping content. Imagine a situation if someone who's not comfortable with blankshipping will find that content via your twitter/tumblr handle and checks the au's that you drew in the session. Everyone trusts that no-one draws blankshipping content on the session so that would come as a surprise to them.

You're still verry much welcomed to the next events if you still want to join us! ^^ I hope that you'll understand our reasoning why we'll remove that drawing from the final edit. Feel free to contact/reply me or @/pokemagma anytime if you want to say or ask anything about the matter! Thank you for joining us!

it is near midnight my time and i am tired and pissed off, so i'm sorry if i'm coming off as harsh

for folks who haven't seen it, this was my piece for the magma. it took me 11 hours to complete, and i was really proud of it. the piece itself is not shippy, it is PG. this piece did not break the magma rules that you published online.

some of my aus have been written for ship, some have been written for gen, some i've written both, some i haven't written at all yet. this is going to come as an absolute mindfuck for some folk here, but i am allowed to draw my aus in whatever way i want. for this piece i drew them as not shippy, out of respect for folk who don't enjoy that content. removing it from the magma edit because i've written ship for it in the past is shit.

and honestly the reasoning of "what if they look you up?" to be fucking bullshit. so what if folk look me up and find content they don't like? fam i trust them to go "oh! this content isn't for me!" and close the fucking browser window like the fucking adults they are. my shit is tagged on my art blog, my ao3 and my twitter - i trust that folk are knowledgeable enough to know how filters work and how to avoid content they don't want to see.

you tell me that i'm welcome to return - how am i welcome to return when you remove something i worked hard on and the reasoning is "you broke rules we didn't tell you about and we can't risk folk looking up your content"? i get that the filthy blankshippers aren't meant to have feelings but friend cmon. if you spent eleven hours on something only for a moderator to remove it because they "forgot to clarify" a rule and they don't want people looking you up, you'd be real upset too.

in addition to this, while i was drawing i was approached by one of your mods. after confirming I wasn't drawing ship art, they proceeded to tell me how many complaints they received because i was there and had been drawing on the last magma

to be clear, my first magma was in june. last month. the shiny pokemon magma. folk were complaining to you about me when i wasn't even drawing submas.

i don't think this is about the art, honestly. i think you just got tired of folk complaining about me and wanted me out

[sheepispink]

A Pearl (1/2)

based on the song by mitski because i love mitski and hot traumatised men

Summary: Years of horrific memories still weigh down on him even as he promises to let you help him move on. All you want to do is help, but its not enough.

Part 2 Masterlist

tags: Leon Kennedy/Reader, Hurt/No comfort, Angst, fem! reader, mentions of re4 (no specific spoilers dw guys), mentions of ptsd, heart wrenching angst 😘

other notes: for clarification, the timeline goes— after the raccoon city incident, then he goes on the re4 mission, then it’s like the smaller missions like damnation etc. Towards the end and next chapter it’s basically vendetta. But theres no actual spoilers bcus tbh.. i haven’t watched any of the movies except id 💀

Ch1: Before it Ended

Like a dream is how you’d always describe it. His coworkers, your friends —anyone who had heard of his name— would come up to you, fawning over your pretty looks and lovely personality. They’d ask you every time, “How did it happen?” And always, you’d replay that memory in your head.

“It was winter,” You’d begin by recounting the snow that fell upon your face that day, the breeze that bristled your bones, and the way his hair looked frozen in place. You’d remember the laughter that bubbled in your throat when you saw that and how his lips curved ever so slightly for what you believe was the first time. Some of the soft strands of your hair had itched your skin; It was messy from having been shaken from the depths of sleep, and now your fingers tuck the rogue locks behind your ear. Eyes like a pretty lake, hair like wheat, with his random strands and dirty blonde roots you would soon learn to run your fingers through. He stood before you, only the dim porch light illuminating him on that winter night. “Why are you out so late?” You had asked him, your hand reaching forward to tug him into the warmth of your apartment. Little did you know that’d tug him into your life as well.

The refusal was clear; he shook his head, puffs of warm air escaping as he explained that he had something to tell you. His clothes were dirty, scratched in places, and his combat knife was only hastily put away—just work, he explains, desperate to leave a good impression on you. He had finished, and he was sure that now that he’d have time, he’d be free from the shackles of the years that would creep up on him. Cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing—you still aren’t sure whether the cold or a blush caused that. “I know I’m always gone, and we dont see each other as often anymore, but I swear- I’ve sorted everything out. I’ve fixed it.” He says his words rushed and mumbled, like his heart was spilling out then and there.“I know this is sudden- i know, but- i just.. Will you marry me?” He blurts out and every puff of air that leaves his mouth feels like another log added to the fire you didn’t know was built in your heart for him. A campfire, as you’d always describe it, is comforting and warm, the perfect reassurance in cold times. Perhaps you should’ve chosen something detrimental to life, but you preferred the romantic speech.

Everyone loved the tale as you did, enamoured with how you managed to get the stoic agent to fall head over heels with you. He’d walk over right then, slinging an arm around your waist, giving you a tender kiss to your cheek, and plastering a smirk on his lips. “Still telling everyone that story?” He’d tease as his fingertips gently rubbed your side, the silver band on his ring finger twinkling with the same light his wine glass did. “As usual.” You’d reply, that same bubble of happiness rising in your throat again as you tilted your head upwards, waiting for the small peck that always came.

Always.

A year would go by, and you’d been learning more and more about each other. Nothing seemed to be too big of a step for you. Opposing voices, loud huffs, doors slamming shut until the other would open it quietly, apologise, crawl into the warmth of their shared bed, and work things out with sweet reassurances. Work was tough; he was on more missions than ever, being considered one of the greatest men to serve your country. Warmth that you always described as adoration filled your heart whenever you heard that phrase; you couldn’t be more proud of him for it.

Besides, not even that could tear you down; nothing could break the delicate encasing that surrounded the pair of you. A greenhouse, you’d say, because it held all the things that grew only with a person’s own nurture and care. Like your relationship, crafted and melded by your kind words and your soft voice. It’s a shame greenhouses are made of glass.

Weekends were quieter now, something you had decided to take in stride; you decided to plan something nice for when he returned. The he anniversary he had missed too. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him now, resorting to spraying his cologne on the pillows in that cold bed to retrieve some imaginary warmth. Then it came—the day he’d return. Open arms is what you welcomed him with; he had always loved to hug you, and holding you close was a remedy for his mind, he’d say. But those words stopped forming after some time. You ushered him into the shared bed that night, your arms curling around him after the nice surprise you had set up earlier had gone well. Perfect, you had thought. The bed was still cold, though. You thought about bringing it up with him but decided against it; the warmth of his arms was enough for you.

You should’ve brought it up with him, for the time would have entered where he couldn’t handle it. He had awoken with a jolt, sweat trickling like beads down his temples. Eyes wide and chest pounding, he sat there with eyes darting for a threat and hands searching for yours. Your fingers would intertwine with his, warm against his cold palms, as you sat up beside him. It’d be over soon; thats what you promised— you’d do this together.

Nights like those started occurring more often than ever, until one day, he’s awoken with a sharp jolt again. His movements are much more frantic, his hands searching and searching.

Though, this time, it doesn’t find itself in yours.

It’s tightly wrapped around your neck, his mind screaming to murder you. Bloodshot eyes and prominent streaks of black down your arms— the horrors he had tried so desperately to push away— return to his mind. Your breath wont come. No sweet words, and he looks down to see his hand contaminated with that same murky colour. The sink of his chest feels like a knife as he sees your arm grab out at him, like they did everywhere he went. Those creatures who would grab him, claw at him, and still threatened to take his life. They had destroyed his mind instead.

But there is no mutant, no bloodshot eyes and no streaks on your skin. All he sees is what he’s done to you, his body weight pressing on you as his hand keeps a firm grip around your neck. Your mouth begs for air, denying the sweet reassurance he needed as he sees you turn pale, your eyes flickering with tears. There’s no threat in here; not even the cold breeze from the open window chills his bones. Nothing can hurt more than the desperation in your eyes as your hands claw—No—plead at him for relief. He immediately lets go, scrambling to the other end of the bed as he watches you pant, his heart filled with fear. Fear of himself. You quickly turn to him, mustering out your honeyed phrases through choked breaths. But they’re just letters dancing about, barely going near his ears in the walls he had built between the two of you. Ignorance is bliss, but he can’t break his gaze when he sees the deep streaks of scarlet he left on your neck. Frozen in regret and shame, you tentatively wrap your arms around him to comfort the pair of you. But he feels your tears on his neck; the fear you felt eats at his gut and his conscience. You had never felt so cold before.

The days he had left for missions were the worst nights of your life, you’d say, having been away from your heart for so long. But even as you see him drinking his morning coffee, those eye bags prominent, you think your heart might be buried in Spain, infected with the plagas of love that died out.

Unspoken was what had happened that night— a silent promise between the pair of you with small random affections to bandage up the wound he had inflicted. He was still going on the small missions, but they were shorter, and he was back to fill the bed every night. The flowers in the vase never died—a different shade, flower, or even scent every week. A different kind of love.

This continued for weeks, up until you were out with some friends, each talking about their love lives, which was always a topic between the three of you. One of them gushes about how their husband’s love language is gift-giving, describing each and every homemade affection they receive on the daily. Soon it gets around to your turn, and when you speak about his love language, physical touch comes to mind again. Whether it was playing with your hair, rubbing your hands as you walked in the cold, or leaning on you after hard days, he always wanted to be near you. Your mouth fails to respond; no words form yet no examples are recalled in your brain either. You laugh sheepishly, trying hard to wrack your head for something sweet he’s done, until you just laugh it off and talk about how you love him again.

The bed’s empty when you slip inside it; he hasn’t returned yet and he won’t be back for another hour or so. The ceiling accompanies you as you desperately try to remember an act of affection in the last few weeks. It’s only now that it finally hits you, like a tonne of bricks through your skull—

He’s been distancing himself from you.

Knowing that you get caught up in little things, he occupied your mind with flowers and sweet notes. Not once have you actually heard him say any of it or felt his touch, if not accidental. He sleeps at a distance at night, and even when you shuffle closer somehow, you wake up further apart than before. You havent had a meal with him in weeks and you haven’t actually heard that raspy voice you remember as he complains about his day. You cannot remember the last time you felt warmth, and you can’t remember when you last cried this hard.

You’re in the bathroom, wiping away the stray tears as you look at yourself in the mirror. A heavy ache that still scrapes against the walls of your heart, unsure if you feel better or worse after coming to terms with this. Every pump feels like it’s dragging you down instead of keeping you alive. The rush of blood is like-

The front door clicks open.

You almost freak out and you’re not even sure why you would. Why are you scared of this? Why are you suddenly scared of him? Your feet hurries you back to your shared bed, settling under the covers once more to try to play it off as just tiredness. You still can’t figure out why you’re doing all this or why you start to form excuses for your behaviour in your mind. He never does. So why would you? The footsteps draw closer; they’re just slightly heavy, much softer than when he wears his boots. You hear the bedroom door unclick and your shoulders tense with every second.

But you dont see him enter. Slow breathing and closed eyes— you’re even lying on your side as you pretend to be asleep.

————————————————————————

Leon breathes out a heavy sigh, his chest sinking to drain out all his exhaustion from today. There’s a rustle of clothing as he undresses, pulling on some random sweatpants and a spare shirt for the night. Why should he even care if its clean or not? He walks over to his side of the bed, rummaging around the bedside table for something. Then he pauses, his eyes catching onto something in his peripheral view. Tear stains?

You hear the creak on the bed as he leans half his weight on it, about to reach out to you. Your heart beats faster. Is it because you dont want to worry him with your tears, or are you afraid of him? You don’t know. His fingers brush your cheek ever so gently, his voice echoing out your name so, so softly.

“Hey.. you awake?” He asks, and even though your heart is melting into a little puddle so easily, some stubborn stick clogs your throat. His sigh fills the room again and he pulls the blanket over you, tucking it snugly over you before brushing the hair out of your face. Maybe he’s just tired these days, you think. He’s been through a lot after all; it explains all of it. Really, you shouldn’t have been so upset at all—his work and life are on an entirely different level for you.

You’re about to open your eyes, pretend you woke up, and give him a sleepy smile. Images of him giving you a tight hug and one hand rubbing the small of your back as he tells you to fall asleep again fills your mind.

Then he speaks again, the bed creaking as he steps back off of the bed, the warmth leaving as fast as it came. “She’s really knocked out.? Phew.. I do not want to deal with some stupid tears..” He mutters out, his raspy voice much lower and breathless—almost exasperated. A low groan leaves him as he dumps his work clothes somewhere. Then, the bed screams again as he lays his weight on it before he shuffles himself to the end of the bed. He looks back at the space between them, another huff of air leaving his lips.

“That’s good enough. I fucking hate being woken to push her away from me..” Eventually, his breathing evens out, and his shoulders are still tight and tense as his body relaxes into the bed. The night falls quieter, and your mind feels blank.

You don’t know when you fell asleep or if he saw your fresh tears when he woke that morning.

Next

[sgdlr-asdfghjkl]

Link Click Musical update 169

(new schedule and new cast members announcement!)

Official updates:

We have performance schedule for whole June, till July 1st (pardon the mistakes, it's google translate fault)🌟 You can analyse it yourself, check for your fav lineups etc.

I can point out there will be double daily performances for Dragon Boat Festival, Deng Xianling's birthday, srb&wyh duo will be back 🙏 lots of new lineups bc of new actors, but also tcp&zhb and more Jing Yanqiao. And most importantly 200th performance on June 17 th🎉

New cast members, yes! A while ago theatre announced additonal casting for the play, so here's who will join:

Yan Lehuang as Qiao Ling :> Yin Haolun and Yang Haoran (I can't recognise [yet] which is which from these pics, srry) as Lu Guang 💙

And owo who's this? Guo Hongxu as Cheng Xiaoshi🧡?! If you look at the schedule, you can see he will still perform as Lu Guang as well.

Another thing you can find there is the 200th play will be performed by ghx&wmh besties duo! (you can tell I'm excited for it)

Links in replies: theatre posted a video from new actors' rehearsals

LC Musical Masterlist update: added weibo profiles and tags for new actors, added Metablue's (music producer) bilibili, removed Fu Xiangan (1 LG actor that never debuted) as theatre said he will not participate in the play; updated navigation tips a bit 🌟

Okay and now that I've summed up the news, we have todays performance to go through ><

May 13th: Bai Zhuoming, Wang Minhui, Cai Lu

In closing speech, according to @shimmeringweeds 'bzm says that wmh lost so hard he forgot the date (he almost says it was the 12th)' [clarification: So specifically, he addresses wmh as a “time agent” and that he lost so many times (literally day after day) that he forgot the date]

okay but why does he look so ethereal whenever he does this pose? it looks like a baroque painting orz

[castaway-achlys]

Welcome to the Blog!

Color Key!

Who is who?

Admin will speak in red, and posts will be tagged as "admin speaks."

Castor will speak in blue, and posts will be tagged as "castor speaks."

Pollux will speak in pink, and posts will be tagged as "pollux speaks."

If two of us are speaking at once, the colors will be split on the text, and the two people tagged! For example: "Hello to everyone!"

Disclaimers!

Important things to read in this section are purple and bold.

This is a multi-ship blog, meaning that any of my characters can (and likely will) date multiple people. That being said, those relationships will not intersect with each other.

Admin and their characters are 18+, and this blog can contain mentions of alcohol, drugs, NSFW, and other adult type content. Posts that do will be tagged accordingly as "tw (insert thing)". For example, "tw drugs". The exception to this rule is NSFW, which will be tagged as "castaway from public." I follow the 18 and over rule regarding my characters and substances, but you do you!

Pollux is not the main character on the blog. The blog will focus on Castor.

Almost all posts will be in lowercase, which is intentional.

Almost all tags will contain a period/full-stop, which is also intentional.

Posts may contain swear words. These will not be tagged. I am not your parent.

Follows, asks, and likes will not come from here, as it is a side blog. If I reply to something on the wrong account, please let me know before I make a fool of myself.

Asks will always be colored to match the color key, and signed as "— (insert person) (@castaway-achlys)"

Private messages will be out of character unless otherwise discussed.

Actions can be done as short form or as full sentences, and will always appear within asterisks.

Castor and Pollux are based off Greek mythology, but are not 100% true to the tales. They are based mostly around the mythical creature Orthrus, and the Dioscuri, Pollux and Castor.

Their last name, Achlys, can be pronounced as ack-liss or ack-lees.

If you're an anonymous frequenter of the blog, please sign off as something, a name or emoji or anything you'd like, so that we can keep track of you! The boys and I do enjoy making friends!

For both our mental health, mine and yours, if we do something to offend you, please let us know so that we can have a mature conversation about it. Admin and you, not the characters, lol.

Rules!

Rules and regulations to abide by!

First and foremost, don't be fucking weird (in a bad way).

Pro-shippers, MAPs, racists, homophobes, transphobes, etc. Do not interact.

If you're a minor, don't interact with anything NSFW that I post. Doing so will result in you being blocked or having me barge into your messages to scold you. Or both. You have been warned.

Other OCs, canon characters, etc, are absolutely welcome, please feel free to interact with me! I don't bite.

You can spam my messages if we're friends or mutuals, even if we're just acquainted. I don't really care, just try not to spam my inbox or vent without asking me if I'm okay with such things. I'm usually fine with vents, but I really can't always handle someone else's mental health as well as my own.

Please be respectful to everyone!

Please use tone tags if asked, and don't be alarmed if I message you for any clarification on things. Tone is hard to read on the internet.

Please do not involve any of us in drama, plotted or not, without notifying us or asking if it's okay first.

These rules can be added to at any time, but I'll try to announce if I make any edits!

About Admin!

Important things about the Admin!

Admin is 22 years old.

Admin is non-binary, pansexual, and polyamorous.

Admin uses they/he pronouns, and would appreciate if you used them when appropriate.

Admin has diagnosed ADHD, and most likely, undiagnosed autism.

Admin is an omnipotent being of sorts. They can interact with Castor and Pollux, as well as other people/characters within Twisted Wonderland.

Admin does not have a physical form that is visible to Twisted Wonderland inhabitants, he appears as a voice that just occasionally interacts and comments on things.

Admin can't be killed or harmed by anyone in Twisted Wonderland, and yes, this means you, Malleus Draconia.

Admin simply just is, and will occasionally pop in, most commonly in the tags.

About Castor Achlys!

Important things about Castor!

Castor is 18 years old, and born on May 22 under the star sign of Gemini.

Castor is the older twin out of him and Pollux.

Castor is transgender, female to male.

Castor uses he/him pronouns, but tolerates they/them if the person is a stranger.

Castor is pansexual, but if you ask him about his sexuality, he has no idea. He is able to love anyone, regardless of gender, genitalia, etc, if given the chance.

Castor is from the Ignihyde dorm and specializes in technology.

Castor is a first year, chosen by the mirror at 18.

Castor is a genius and extremely fast learner.

Castor's main focus and hobby is gaming, where his username is Castaway, hence the blog name.

Castor is extremely fond of animals, especially cats.

Castor has an immense amount of strength, an inhuman sense of smell and hearing, and is very fast.

Castor is only 5 feet, or 152cm, tall.

Castor has bright pink eyes and dark blue hair.

Posts will be made containing his appearance and more, which will be linked here as soon as they are up!

Castor's backstory.

Castor's Partners!

Suitors? Pspspsps.

♡ Archie — @nightonthemountain — June 2, 2024 — castor's north star. 🧭

♡ Che'nya — @your-local-grinning-cat — June 27, 2024 — castor's kitty. 🌙

About Pollux Achlys!

Important things about Pollux!

Pollux is 18 years old, and born on May 22 under the star sign of Gemini.

Pollux is the younger twin out of him and Castor.

Pollux is a cisgender male.

Pollux uses he/him mostly, but any pronouns are fine with him. Call him whatever you'd like! He is comfortable in his gender identity and doesn't believe that pronouns are indicative or equal to one's gender.

Pollux is bisexual, but has a preference for men (transgender inclusive-- transgender males are males too!)

Pollux doesn't attend Night Raven College, but if he did, he would want to be in Pomefiore.

Pollux, unlike his brother, learns things at a much slower and normal speed, and does not excel at most academics. He does enjoy learning, though, and is intelligent in his own right. (School and standardized testing is not a good measure of intelligence.)

Pollux is the one who introduced Castor to games, and plays them a lot with him. It is also his main hobby. At this time, Admin has not given him a clever username.

Pollux doesn't have a favorite animal, but enjoys bees a lot.

Pollux is also strong, but has a normal sense of smell and hearing, and isn't the fastest due to his size. He is not overweight, just a bit lanky and very tall.

Pollux is 6 feet and 1 inch, or 185cm, tall.

Pollux has features opposite to Castor-- in that he has dark blue eyes and light pink hair.

Pollux does involve himself with weed frequently, so if you're uncomfortable with that, please block the tag "tw drugs" for us! Don't worry, he's responsible! Mostly.

Posts will be made containing his backstory, appearance, and more, which will be linked here as soon as they are up!

Pollux's Partners!

Who is Pollux involved with? Hehe.

♡ Umbrance — @nightonthemountain — May 28, 2024 — pollux's moon. 🏔️

Other Information!

Important things that don't fit anywhere else!

Ask games will be available sometimes! They will be tagged as "ask game — (insert title)."

Castor, Pollux, and I's first ask game (still ongoing) is here!

Admin hasn't had Castor and Pollux officially commissioned for a reference of their looks yet, so picrews are available for you to get an idea of what they look like! They are tagged as "castor picrew." and "pollux picrew." and will always have a link to the picrew and any other ocs included so you can check them out!

Anon List!

Anonymous blog frequenters will be tagged as "(insert something here) anon."

🌈 anon.

Thank you to cafekitsune for the free use dividers!

[queerautism]

A series of events

-Dain notices that the crow collective person is claiming you broke their dni by interacting as an endo supporter

-he is understandably confused by this, bc "endo supporters dni" was not in their tags, and sends them an ask, on anon, asking for clarification as to how, because you're not endogenic. He does so very politely, bc he is a very polite person.

-They act like he's being an asshole on purpose or something and go off about how they're allowed to have boundaries

-He's even more confused, because yes they're allowed to have boundaries but it's a boundary they didn't actually make clear. He goes to ask them about it, on anon again because he is aware of how aggressive sysmeds can be and doesn't want to put a target on our back.

-Cue discovery that they turned anon off, presumably because of his ask.

Anyway I found that kind of amusing. Confused autistic old man very politely asks for clarification on something, sysmed gets bitchy, acts like they're being attacked, and turns off anon.

-🐋

For sysmeds, their "boundaries" are often whatever is convenient at any given time, whatever they can use against the people they hate. So I am not surprised.

But yes, the post I replied to was on the traumagenic systems tag, which is why I saw it and replied to it. If it's that important to them that only other sysmeds see and reply to their posts, they should only add sysmed tags and stay in those. You cannot purposefully blast your posts into a bunch of unrelated tags and then get upset when the people who frequent those tags react to them.

Anyway, that asshole is adding "anti endo" and "endo dni" tags even to posts that aren't even theirs, that they're just reblogging, which I think is even more absurd. It's hopeless.

[goat-and-a-pig]

See the Light Info Post!

Here's a couple of things that you need to know for next month:

-I will be posting one chapter daily. Due to the fact that April is a 30-day month and not a 31-day month like I originally planned, the story will begin on March 31st with the prologue and end May 2nd with the epilogue.

-If I miss a day of posting, I will post two chapters the next day so that I stay on schedule. Please don't come for me if I post late! I have a life that will get busy mid-April and I apologize in advance but you shouting at me can't make the chapter come any sooner. Thanks!

-I will post the actual chapter under the read more so that a) people won't see spoilers accidentally and b) people can look at the other stuff I've posted without having to scroll down so far.

-This fanfic is mostly about family! Yes, there's romance, but it is not, I REPEAT, NOT, between the character in Rapunzel's role and the one in Flynn Rider's role. DO NOT TAG MY FANFIC AS INCEST. I WILL BLOCK YOU.

-I'm posting the summary tomorrow!

-You can send asks about the fanfic all throughout the month! I'm not going to reply to any that have a spoiler as their answer, so don't get offended if I don't answer. I'll be holding a headcanon ask day on May 3rd so that you all can ask your burning questions. All throughout the month you can ask for clarification on something in the chapters posted. I have a lot of knowledge that might make some things make sense that I couldn't fit in there (and some that has nothing to do with it at all lol). I can't wait to see what you come up with!

-Feel free to make fanart! NO INCEST, PEDOPHILIA, OR BILL SHIPPING. As, I said before, I will block you. I would also prefer no NSFW, as I am ace and I made this fanfic friendly for all ages, just like Gravity Falls itself is. But I'd truly love to see your fanart, please tag me so that I can find it easier!

-If you post anything about my fanfic, please give me credit where it's due. Thank you!

-I'm also going to post an internet friendly acknowledgements for all of the people who deserve the acknowledgement, probably also on May 3rd.

-There's no swearing, only jokes about it (just like Gravity Falls lol). I can't promise that it won't make you say "Hot Belgian waffles!" for real though, when it comes to some suspense. ;)

I think that's all, if I missed anything I'll add it on later. Send me an ask if you're curious about a detail I might not have added in by accident! I'll see you all in the light of tomorrow.

Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!

[shayberri789]

Tumblr Tips

With new users coming and apparently actually following me, I figured I'd may as well make a master post of "Tumblr Tips" and "Tips for new users and returning users" posts I have been reblogging lately.

Edit: make sure to check my original version of this post, apparently the read more option no longer redirects people to the original full post from reblogs, so you won't see the additions. I've linked it in comments

This post was made when Twitter Refugees flooded tumblr, so it's mostly targeted to them. However!! Reddit immigrants will get a lot of use from it too! I'll be adding reddit specific stuff too as I find them. For now, here is the best and clearest "tips for reddit immigrants" post I've found. Welcome to tumblr

Can't believe I need this category; Tumblr Safety Tips:

Don't List Minor Status

Lurk Before You Post - my comment: Learn the site and culture before you post, you're less likely to poke a beehive that way

Listen to this or you will be mocked by locals

Don't give out your real name! + The benefits of primary and secondary blogs

Privacy: make your likes and follows private

A common scam going around - be careful! It'll pray on your kindness in your ask inbox

For Starting Out:

Starting info for Twitter Refugees

A handy guide for starting up - with diagrams!

How Not To Be Blocked By Every Tumblr User

SERIOUSLY. PLEASE GET A PROFILE PICTURE.

Why Locals Block Empty Blogs

Free Profile pictures if you're out of ideas: [x]

Etiquette - or shit that annoys locals to hell and back if you ignore these:

Don't censor shit - it's cringe and annoying and can be harmful

SERIOUSLY DONT CENSOR SHIT

bitesyoubitesyoubitesyou REBLOG SHIT

Abuse the tags but don't clog the tags - unrelated info tags are not cool

Tips to Improve Your Experience:

Terminology (Blorbo, plinko, some classic jokes, etc)

More terminology: Poor little meow meow vs blorbo

Different methods of interaction explained - reblogs, asks, DMs, replies, etc

XKit to improve your experience

Themes! Make your blog look great

Also you can change the site colour palette - I like a soft blue, some like black, some white, but there's more!!

Tumblr Tags: Don't Use Quotations "like this"

Remember; it's your blog

How to post mature (Eg: sexual) content

Folk Stories

Blocking:

Block without hesitation, for any reason

It's integral to curating your online experience

An example of reasons to block someone - yes your reason can be silly. I've blocked people for posting x reader fics, for shipping my notp, because i didn't like their AU. Not because I don't like them, or have anything against them, I just hate x reader fics in general, or didn't want to see my notp, or I just got tired of seeing their posts in a fandom tag. Rather than demanding they change, I changed how my tag looks to me. And that is responsible blocking. I also block racists, terfs, homophobes, etc. I blocked someone who was mean to me in replies. Do whatever to make your online experience good.

Misc:

FOR RETURNING USERS! We have new things!

Added to the above, here are some things people in the notes have added: Comments are a thing, clarification on tag filtering, seriously follow @/staff and @/changes

To concerned twitter artist refugees

Also! You can shorten posts like I have by adding a "read more" option. On website, make a new line and click the squiggly lone button. On mobile, type :readmore: then hit enter! Everything after that will be hidden under a nifty button. I recommend doing it! Especially for writing longer pieces!

How Tumblr Treats Celebrities and Popular blogs (If you're an influencer, prepare for hell. You'll get chased off if you try that here)

Tumblr Holiday - November Fifth Explanation

[poledancingdinos]

You've Got Me Hooked - Chapter 11

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Riley McKenzie)

Word count: 2.4k 

Warnings: Sex work, Stripper, OnlyFans, Angst

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @marytudorbrandon @enchantedbytomandhenry  @foxyjwls007  @peaches1958 @identity2212 @summersong69 @liecastillo @islacharlotte @evansabove1981 @eskiix @lilacwineandthesinkingsunmain @tryingtoliveonmywishes​

A/N: If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know! If your name is crossed out, I can’t tag you for some reason.

This may have been barely proofread, be gentle with me.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Sy

I never meant to make a move on Riley while she was this emotional and vulnerable but I couldn’t wait any longer. Riley needed to know exactly how I feel because I’m not going to give the universe another opportunity to make this all go awry.

It takes every ounce of my self-control not to flip her onto her back when she returns my kiss but I feel her hesitance, like she herself is not a hundred percent sure that she won't yet get up and run like a spooked animal. I lean back against the couch, grabbing her thighs and shifting her so she straddles me. She breaks away from our kiss, letting out a little yelp when I lift her up.

My hands settle right above her knees and she immediately takes hold of my wrists. The hem of my sweatshirt hits her lower on her thigh than her own shorts that she wears beneath. I guess she figures that after everything I’ve seen, she’s safe to wear them in front of me now.

For a second, I fear I might have pushed too far as I wait for her to make the next move. I thought she’d feel more in control being on top but maybe this position is too intimate.

When she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes flicker down to my lips, I relax somewhat. She's breathing a little bit faster than normal and her pupils are blown wide. She's interested but she may not be ready for any of this yet. Especially after what she’s just lived through.

“You know,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “I like you too. I didn’t say that before.”

That is the best damn news I’ve heard all year. Better even than my Honorable Discharge. 

“Good. Then tell me you’ll let me take ya out.”

���Sy…” The tone with which she says my name makes me think she might actually say no. The excitement from a few seconds ago has vanished. She’s still worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and my hand leaves her thigh in favor of holding her chin. I gently pull her lip free with my thumb and use my hold to keep her gaze on me.

“What are ya afraid of?”

Her reply is immediate. “How can I be what you want?” I’m not sure what she means but she continues before I can ask for clarification. “Until things got rough, you were ready to settle down with your ex and now… I can’t give you any of what you want. My life is a mess, my own family wants nothing to do with me, I work three jobs but despite that, a few more weeks on my own and I might have been sleeping in my car which, as it turns out, is all that rock would have been good for.”

Fuck. That last one was all on me. I left her without warning and I didn’t even consider leaving her some cash for my half of next month’s rent. I planned on paying it but obviously she wouldn’t have just assumed I’d do so.

Her car was towed to Don's this morning. The guys checked it out already and I was right. There's absolutely nothing worth salvaging other than the scrap metal.

“So, basically, what you’re sayin' is that you’re worried because I’m older than you?”

My age has to be the reason that any of these thoughts are crossing her mind in the first place. Sure, I'd like to have a family at some point in the future. A house would also be nice once I figure out what's my next career plan and I have a better idea of where I'll be living. But, other than that one comment over dinner about settling down, I've never mentioned wanting any of this out loud. 

“I’m not worried that you’re older than me," she says, "I’m worried that I am younger.”

A smile pulls at my lips. “That’s the same thing, darlin’,” I point out.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because she sits back on her hunches and hides her face in her hands.

“No, it’s not,” she argues with a small whimper. "Just forget it, it's stupid." 

“Hey, none of that now,” I command gently, moving her hands from her face. She looks so embarrassed and I instantly feel guilty for not realizing how much this bothers her. Beyond thinking she might not be attracted to me because I’m ten years older than she is, I hadn’t considered age to be an obstacle to us progressing from the easy friendship we built as roommates to a romantic relationship. Clearly I’ve missed something.

“I didn’t mean to be teasin', sweetheart.” I kiss her cheek in apology. “Please, tell me what ya mean when ya say you’re worried because you’re younger.”

She stares down at my chest like it’s safer to look at my body than to meet my gaze. We’ll work on that. She settles her hands on my sides and bunches the well worn fabric of my shirt in her fists.

“I’m worried…” she begins, attempting to formulate her thoughts, “I’m worried that I'm going to be like… that I’ll be a burden because I have nothing to offer. Especially compared to you, I feel like I’m just a kid fumbling with adult responsibilities."

“Ri, sweetheart, I’m not in a rush to get anywhere.” I don’t want to think about Lisa at this particular moment  — I definitely don’t want to compare her to Riley because Riley is not, and never will be, anything like Lisa — but I think it will help settle some of her fears. “Lisa and I, we were together for years but I still never really knew her.” That’s a huge understatement, if I’m being honest. For every year of our relationship, Lisa and I probably spent less than a month together. Then, to make matters worse, I found out that the person I thought I knew Lisa to be was all a big lie.

“I want to take my time with you. I’m lookin' forward to it even because, for the first time, I get to enjoy learnin' all the little things as they come along.” I can see the gears turning in her head as she absorbs my words but she doesn’t respond so I continue with my little speech. “I admire you, Riley, I really do. I happen to think you're way better off than I was at your age and you’ve been learnin' it all on your own with no one around to help when things got rough. I still remember the day when I was sixteen that my mama dragged me down from my room to teach me how to do my own laundry ‘cause she stopped bein' able to handle the stink of my football gear.”

“Of course you played football,” she jokes, gesturing vaguely at my frame before looking up at me with those damn doe eyes that could literally make me do absolutely anything she requested, no questions asked.

“Not the point,” I sass back, poking her in the ribs.

She chuckles, batting my hand away and wiping her tears with the sleeve of my hoodie. “So what is your point?”

“The point is that I don’t need ya to have it all figured out or to have done all the things you think you need to have accomplished to be worthy of a mature relationship. It would be my fuckin’ honor to share any or all of those milestones with ya.”

“In time,” I add after a beat.

It’s the God’s honest truth and I hope she sees that. I knew I’d eventually have to figure my shit out after being discharged. I knew it would be impossible to plan out and account for every detail of my civilian life. Then the Lisa bomb exploded and I was really lost. I’ve been dreading the part where I’m forced to confront the question of what I want to do with the rest of my life but I have a feeling it’s all going to be a whole lot easier with Riley by my side. Life is too fucking short to pass up a chance like this on ‘what ifs’.

“Why are you so patient with me?” I push some of her hair back, admiring Riley’s beautiful face. I hate seeing her upset, don’t get me wrong, but she’s gorgeous and I’m so fuckin’ glad to be able to finally look at her up close like this. She was always so shy before, hiding away from me.

“I don’t need to be patient, sweetheart. You’re incredibly easy to— It’s easy to be there for ya.” Fuck, I nearly said love. That would definitely have sent her mind into a spiral. “All I want is to see you happy because… Because I haven’t been this happy in a really long time. Livin' with ya and growin' to care for you has been the easiest thing I have ever done.”

Riley looks like she’s going to cry again but instead she slowly moves closer and kisses me in earnest. Her hands flatten against my stomach, moving up my chest before wrapping around my neck. The kiss is slowly but firm and filled with all the feelings we’ve been locking away for far too long.

“I didn’t mean to lie to ya all this time,” I say when we finally break apart. “I just didn’t want to ruin the friendship we were building and I was afraid you’d put up even more walls if I said I knew about the videos.” I take both of her hands in mine and clutch them to my chest between us. “And I want you to know that I haven’t watched any of them. I looked at your social media once and that’s it, I swear.”

“It… It would be okay if you had.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” I declare, letting go of her hands to cup her face. “Not to me.” I make sure she’s looking at me to see the sincerity in my eyes. “As much as I would love to know what ya look like when ya fall apart, I don’t want to find out starin’ at a screen. I want to discover all that on my own.” I press my lips chastely to hers and she chases them as I pull apart. “In time,” I repeat again.

Her mouth drops open and a light flush covers her face. She unconsciously draws her hips closer to mine, letting me know that she likes that idea as well. I desperately want to explore what else might elicit such a reaction from her but I’m determined to make sure that we don’t rush into anything.

“Wednesday,” Riley says. There’s a coy smile on her face but all I can do is frown, not understanding what she means.

“Next Wednesday, you can take me out on a date.”

A stupid grin spreads over my face now and I lean in to kiss Riley again but apparently Aika’s been feeling left out in all the affection because she launches herself onto the couch and her snout forces us apart at the last second. She proceeds to lick my face, then Riley’s, then mine again and we both burst out laughing like we don’t have a care in the fucking world.

The lighter atmosphere from after our talk on the couch is short-lived. After watching a movie together, Riley said she had some work to do so I reluctantly let go of her and allowed her to escape to her bedroom.

About an hour later, she walks over to where I'm sitting at the kitchen island, reading through car specs on my phone. She sets a small blue rectangle down on the counter and takes a step back.

"What's this?" I ask, turning the stool towards her.

"It's the video."

My frown only deepens, not understanding what video she's referring to.

"It's the video from last night."

"Ya mean the scene ya filmed for your OnlyFans?" I pick up the small memory card and turn it over in my hands.

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, wrapping her arms around herself. She takes a deep inhale to calm herself before she can answer me. Her next two breaths are slow and controlled and I can tell she's counting them out in her head.

"The camera was still filming when Brent… it was still filming."

I struggle to bury the growl working its way up my chest. He didn't stop the camera? Did he really think she wouldn't put up a fight? Or did he get off on the thought that he’d be able to watch it over and over again.

I should go back there a teach him a fucking lesson. I bet no matter what I did to him he wouldn't feel half as scared as Riley did but that wouldn't stop me trying.

"Ya mean this is proof that he attacked ya?"

She nods her head, looking down at her socked feet.

"Can you keep it safe? In case I… in case I change my mind about going to the police? I took some pictures of my face too. They're all on there with the date."

"Sweetheart, come here."

I hold an arm out for her and she immediately crashes her body against mine. I really wish she didn't have to worry about the police destroying her life to try and protect the man who attacked her. I wish I could say for sure that I knew they would take her word for it. But the truth is, even with the video, I'm sure someone will say it was just part of the act. That they were just roll playing.

It's the only thing keeping me from hunting that scumbag down. What kind of retaliation would he take against Riley? He could say whatever he wants about her online and it would ruin her biggest source of income. Not to mention what it would do to her emotionally. I won't risk it. I won't put her in that position.

"I'll guard it with my life. I promise."

Chapter 12

[spoonyglitteraunt]

So I'm idly scrolling a fandom tag, as you do when tired and bored, and I come across a post asking opinions on how people felt something in canon was handled. To which I shrug and go, I've got time to reblog and have some short thoughts to add in tags. Short being definitely in my dictionary. Right after utterly incapable of.

So I start adding some tags. And then add some more. Delete a few because staying on topic is definitely another word in that same dictionary. And after another ten minutes of typing I give up on the pretence that this will fit in the tags and make it a reblog.

Some more time and text gets added to the total and I eventually have what feels like a decent and nuanced enough reply. Explaining my thoughts while trying to fight the ND urge to add all the asides and clarifications.

I nod in a yup that sure is a post I didn't spend too much time and effort on manner and go to hit the blue button of no take-backsies. But just before I do something in what I can only explain as my fandom drama senses starts a-tingling. So I decide to go take a quick look at the OP.

What I find is a blog full of Takes™️ about said fandom and the characters.

Now I'm very big on everyone likes and dislikes different things. And we all bring our own unique lenses and backstories to each piece of media we encounter. So what works for one does not for another. Just because someone hates a thing you like or likes a thing you hate doesn't make either of you wrong. And can in fact be a basis for some incredibly interesting conversations if all parties are open to that. Open being the operative word there.

But if every take is along the lines of this element/character did a Problematic. In the one single media. No other fandoms or interests in recent sight. Nothing good to be mentioned. Just long post after long post explaining the terrible no good extremely bad things it did. In a manner that reads very much like unprocessed trauma made this piece of fiction highly uncomfortable to me and now I have to tell everyone how Toxic it is and put things in absolutes. If others don't feel read it in this exact way, and agree this causes direct real life harm just for existing, they are downplaying Toxic thing and highly suspect.

Then I don't think you want actual opinions. You want people confirming your opinion is right and just and the only sane one that matters. not an emotional response you can't (yet) control or always prevent And I think it might be better to put down the Problematic Media and go do something that makes you happy instead.

So yeah. Suffice it to say, the totally not too long side tangenty thoughts will be added to the bin instead of a reblog. No disguised hornets nests for me thanks.

[screechthemighty]

OKAY new chapter of will you greet the daylight looming? is live! Tow-part warning for this one. One: Chunks of this are just a perspective flip of events from the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin, so yes, this is the same dialogue as last time. Two: Related to that, Sindri's current and Kratos's past suicidal ideation are both hinted at, though less explicitly than other fics. At least you guys can go in knowing for sure that one has a happy ending.

AO3 link will be in a reblog, full chapter below, full fic tagged on my blog also!

will you greet the daylight looming? part 3/6: summer

cws: suicidal ideation (hinted), fantasy racism (mentioned). ragnarok spoilers throughout.

.

“Interesting choice of training weapon.”

The voice still sent a jolt down Kratos’s spine, despite knowing it no longer belonged to an enemy. He fought the urge to summon his own spear as he turned around. Týr stood at the fence, watching his students run through their drills. “But it makes sense,” Týr continued conversationally. “That’s how you would’ve started, right?”

“Hmm.” Kratos still did not know how to react to the true Týr. On the one hand, he was nothing like Odin’s impersonation. There was a thoughtfulness to him that the tyrant had not been able to capture. Kratos could almost picture Týr debating with the philosophers of Greece in his free time. He seemed to have no interest in war or power, but was not so aggressive about it as Odin had depicted. He was simply a man who had fought enough for now, and wished to go home to his family and crops.

But Odin had captured his face and voice perfectly. The memory of that voice going cruel as Odin drove the knife into Brok still haunted Kratos. And then there was the memory of Týr’s treasure room. The bottle of Lemnian wine. The pot with Kratos’s likeness on it,

How much did the war god know?

“You visited Sparta?” Kratos asked carefully.

Týr shook his head. “I only ever knew of it by reputation,” he said. “And I was never sure how much of it was true.”

“If you heard it from an Athenian, it was a lie,” Kratos said immediately.

Týr chuckled. “RIght, and I’m sure you can be trusted to tell the truth about Athens,” he replied.

“They made a great many contributions to Greece. And they were annoying.” And the less said about Athena herself, the better. “I’m surprised I never heard of your visits.”

“Oh, I made a point of keeping to myself. Greece was a beautiful place, but…”

Týr hesitated. Kratos turned his attention to his students. Hopefully, it looked as though he were supervising them, not as though he were avoiding eye contact. “Say what is on your mind,” he said.

“...I never met him directly, but Zeus reminded me of Odin in some ways,” he said. “Not exactly the same, but I left Asgard to avoid thinking about my family.”

“Hmm.” Kratos could see some resemblance. The same obsession with prophecy and habit of stabbing their children, for starters. Same habit of damaging lives with their meddling. It seemed to be a requirement for being king of the gods.

“I’m glad you got out,” Týr added, “for what it’s worth.”

Kratos felt a surge of adrenaline, though he knew no physical attack was coming. It was accompanied by a deep feeling of dread, nausea, revulsion. “That is not how I would put it,” he said.

Týr hesitated again. “I don’t know how else to put it,” he said finally. “I heard of how things ended there, but you could have…stayed, mentally. Remained trapped in it all, spread that distrust and hatred. Instead, you’re doing this.” He nodded towards Kratos’s students. “Helping people. I’ve heard about what you and Freya have been up to. So…you got out, in the end.”

The clarification made sense, and soothed his heightened emotions somewhat. Not entirely, though; his scars still tingled. “I suppose. I only wish…”

Wish I could have done it sooner.

Týr smiled sadly, a look of understanding in his eyes. “Me, too.”

Kratos thought about Týr, held hostage in Niflheim for imagined crimes. He thought of Deimos, bound for sins he hadn’t committed yet, and would never get the chance to commit. He imagined how difficult it must have been to push against an unmoving object like Odin.

He was lucky to be alive at all.

“We are not our fathers’ pasts,” Kratos said quietly.

“Yeah,” Týr said. For the first time, Kratos did not see the threat of Odin in him. For the first time, he saw a possible ally. “I sure hope not.”

.

There was more to Skjöldr than Kratos had realized.

Kratos had seen glimpses of the boy’s work ethic before. Skjöldr had been one of the primary organizers as his people settled back in Midgard, and seemed to be treated as a leader among his peers. These traits became more pronounced as they progressed in their training. He was first to volunteer, obeyed orders while still asking the right questions, and had a talent for encouraging the others. He was, of course, still a mortal boy–growing into his body, voice cracking at odd times, still learning the ways of the world. Kratos did not want to ask too much of him too soon. But he was well on his way to doing something great with his life.

He also had a very encyclopedic knowledge of fish.

“They’re the same fish,” Skjöldr explained, “but the coloration is completely different in Asgard. I still kind of think it’s due to some magical influence.” He started gutting the fish with careful precision. “I’d love to go to Vanaheim and see if there’s a pattern. I’d ask Lady Freya, but…y’know.”

“She’s intimidating?” Kratos guessed.

“No…well, yeah, but it’s more that it’s…dumb? I don’t want to bug the Queen of the Valkyries by asking her about fish.”

Freya would probably welcome the question, Kratos thought. It would be a break from the monotony of questions about Draugr or the pockets or trouble-makers they still had to deal with. But he kept that thought to himself and continued skinning his own fish. “You learned all of this yourself?” he asked.

“No, my dad…” Skjöldr hesitated. “...is a fisherman. He taught me. I’ve had to pick up a lot of it since he just started walking again. His leg got pretty busted up during…y’know.”

Ragnarök. Some were still hesitant to invoke it by name. Kratos understood. “But it is healing?”

“He’ll probably have a limp, but yeah, it could have been worse.” Skjöldr straightened up suddenly at the sound of wings nearby. “Is that…?”

Kratos didn’t have to look up to confirm that it was. He knew that sound by now. The Valkyries were back, and Thrúd with them if the crackle of lightning in the otherwise clear air was any indication. Kratos could hear them talking among themselves. It seemed like they’d missed a few holes out of Helheim. That was irritating. He heard footsteps approaching; Skjöldr attempted to sit up straighter as they grew close. “Hey, Thrúd,” he said.

Ah. Kratos made a point of looking down at the fish he was cleaning. The boy was already nervous. There was no point in making it worse. “Hey, Skjöldr,” Thrúd said. She gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. Her being a goddess, the “friendly” punch nearly knocked Skjöldr over. He didn’t seem to mind. “Keeping everyone fed?”

“Trying to. Uh, everything going okay with the, uh…Helheim stuff?”

“Oh, y’know. Helheim is Helheim.” Kratos felt knuckles nudge into his own shoulder in an attempt at a similar punch. It didn’t move him at all. “Kratos.”

Kratos grunted. He glanced up long enough to see if Freya was there. She stood nearby, examining her swords carefully. Frost marked the edges. Good hunting, if he had to guess. “Where were they entering Midgard?” he asked.

“Oh, right next to Jörmungandr’s head,” Thrúd said with a laugh. “He did half the work for us. Not sure they tasted any good.”

Skjöldr laughed, perhaps a little too quickly. Oh, poor boy. If it had been any other goddess, Kratos might have considered intervening as soon as possible. He still considered it, but not for any fault of Thrúd’s. The heartache of a mortal and an immortal was potent. He knew that from experience.

But he was not the boy’s father, and that was probably a mistake he’d have to make on his own. So Kratos kept his eyes on the fish.

Freya sat down next to him with a sigh. “They’ve got you doing manual labor?” she asked.

“I volunteered.” He liked the normalcy of it. If he feared one thing, it was becoming too used to being a proper god again. He may not be running from his true nature anymore, but he did not want to be some distant thing sitting on a throne. He wanted to keep the life he had created for himself–fish guts and all. “The river’s thawed entirely. Travel should be easier now.”

“Finally. I thought some of those chunks would never clear away.” Freya glanced at Skjöldr and Thrúd. She was talking about her Valkyrie duties while he listened attentively. “Oh, dear,” Freya said quietly.

Of course she’d noticed. Love was one of her domains; if it was obvious to Kratos, it was probably a full signal fire to her. “Best of luck to him,” Kratos said quietly.

She didn’t audibly laugh, to her credit, but he could see the amusement in her eyes. “Best of luck indeed.”

Kratos waited until there was a lull in the conversation before asking his next question: “Do you have fish like this in Vanaheim?”

Skjöldr’s eyes darted over to them, looking surprised, but he kept his mouth shut. Freya examined the fish. “Similar, but they’re more of a…sunset color, I guess you could say. Why?”

Kratos shrugged. He knew the lack of answer wouldn’t give much away; Freya was used to him not answering questions by now. It wasn’t as if she could find him any more odd than she already did.

The grateful look on Skjöldr’s face made it worthwhile, anyway.

.

He had only seen Angrboda in the Ironwood or the Wild Woods. She’d alluded to returning to Jötunheim proper a handful of times (“Just looking around”), but beyond when she helped them during Ragnarök, she seemed content to stay in her part of the world.

It caught Kratos just as off-guard as everyone else when she arrived in Midgard.

“Hey, is that Loki’s friend?”

It was. And Kratos immediately noticed the change in the air around them. He’d set up the training grounds close to the mortal’s growing town, close enough that there were always people walking by. Those people were staring. Visibly.

She hadn’t come with Fenrir. It was just Angrboda, her arms wrapped around herself tightly, her gaze more frightened and rabbit-like than he’d ever seen it. Kratos stepped closer to her, carefully scanning the staring faces, searching for any signs of threat-

“Angrboda, right?” Skjöldr said. He had put down his spear and was approaching her with a friendly smile. “Loki’s friend? I’m Skjöldr.” He held out his hand. “Are you here to train, too?”

“Oh, uhm…” Angrboda unfolded enough to shake Skjöldr’s hand. “No, I was just here to say ‘hi.’”

Some of the students were still staring. Skjöldr’s friendliness seemed to put them at ease, but they were still curious. They had never seen a giant before, Kratos realized. They had only heard stories of them, and likely stories filtered through the lies of Asgard. None of them seemed hostile, at least, but…

“Drills,” Kratos called sternly. “Your enemy is over there.” The students quickly went back to their straw dummies. “Skjöldr, you as well.”

“Yes, sir,” he said immediately. To Angrboda, he added, “We should talk sometime! I never got to thank you for helping.”

“It’s no problem,” she replied with a hesitant smile. “Glad you’re okay.”

Kratos waited until Skjöldr was out of earshot before moving closer to Angrboda. “Are you all right?”

Angrboda let out a shaky breath. “I’m okay. I just…I guess I wanted to see if it was really okay out here. You mentioned coming here a lot, so I thought it’d be safe.”

Of course. She wanted to see how one of the last giants in the realms would be treated for showing her face. If Atreus did return with more giants, that would be important to know. “I would have escorted you,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t really plan to come here today, but thank you.” She seemed more relaxed now that he was close. “I haven’t been to a town in a while. It looks nice.”

“They’ve done well for themselves. There’s been help from Vanaheim and the Aesir left…” He noted one of the students was struggling with her form. “I’ll be right back.”

Kratos was worried that some trouble would find Angrboda in the time it took him to help the student and return. But she was still standing at the fence when he was done, and no one accosted her during her visit.

It may have been naive of him, but Kratos hoped that was a good sign.

.

Skjöldr made a point of including Angrboda after that whenever he saw her. Kratos suspected it was out of loyalty to Atreus more than anything, but he was still grateful. Angrboda herself opened up quickly to the attention, losing the wariness she’d had that day very quickly. He might be the second person her age she’s ever spoken to, Kratos realized. Perhaps that was the other reason she’d risked showing herself.

She was lonely.

“So, these are…” Skjöldr looked up from the hinge he was fixing. “...what, past, present, future?”

“Sometimes. And it really depends on when you see it.” Angrboda kept her eyes on the shrine. They needed some attention after three years of snow. She’d insisted on repairing the art herself while Kratos and Skjöldr tended to the doors. “This used to be past, present, future. Now it’s more like…beginning, middle, end, I guess.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Much as any of this makes sense.”

Kratos understood that sentiment. He tried not to think about the complexities of prophecies now that they were no longer a matter of life and death. He had struggled with the decision before, but Kratos was grateful now that Faye had never told him about it until she absolutely had to.

He wondered how she had stood living with it herself.

“Does Jörmungandr know this is in here?” Skjöldr wondered. “It must be weird for him if he does. Knowing your whole life story is out there somewhere…I don’t think I’d be able to live like that.” He hesitated. “I’m not on any of these, right?”

“Not that I know of,” Angrboda said. “Guess that means you can do whatever you want.”

Skjöldr looked relieved–then, almost immediately, nervous again. “Okay , that sounds really scary when you put it like that.”

Mimir barked with laughter. Even Kratos couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Really no winning is there?” Mimir said. “The burden of choice.”

“Better than being a story with the end written,” Angrboda noted quietly.

Kratos hummed in agreement. He waited until Skjöldr moved away from the open door and nodded before releasing it. It settled back on its hinges, now fully repaired. The shrine may not have been good as new, but it looked much better than it had. “Do you think we can move them one day?” he asked.

“I think they’ll be okay where they are for now, but I’ve thought about it,” Angrboda admitted. “Maybe once things settle down a bit more.”

Maybe once more of the giants return and can make that decision, if he had to guess. But Angrboda was still careful not to discuss that in mixed company. She had been treated fairly so far, but Kratos understood her caution.

Eventually, Skjöldr had to go back into town, leaving Kratos and Mimir along with Angrboda. He was content to watch her paint at first, her hands carefully tracing the pre-existing lines. She was the first one to break the silence: “Thanks for the help with this.”

“You’re welcome.” Kratos examined the canvas before them. “I was hoping…to learn.”

“About the prophecies?”

“About the giants. I know Faye left long before she met me, but they are her people. I want to know.” It was the least he could do to respect her memory. The memory of the family she had only talked about once, but with so much pain in her eyes. “I want to understand her.”

Angrboda set her paintbrush down and looked at him, understanding in her eyes. “I’d love to tell you,” she said quietly. “Do you think you could tell me about her? I know she meant a lot to a lot of people, but I don’t think they knew…her. You know?”

Kratos nodded. “Of course. She would have liked you, I can say that.” His gaze swept over the shrine, the carefully restored paintings. “She was an artist herself.”

“Really?” Angrboda looked pleased. “So Atreus got it from her?”

“Yes.” His Spartan training had covered more than most people assumed. Neither drawing nor painting was on that list. “They were alike in many ways. I know it will serve him well.”

“So will what he got from you.”

The compliment hit him harder than he thought it would. “...thank you.”

He hoped she was right.

.

The invitation was unexpected. Kratos hadn’t had much chance to return to Niðavellir since Brok’s funeral. The dwarves had largely kept to themselves in the wake of Ragnarök, trying to rebuild their realm without outside interference.

But they remembered him, apparently, because Durlin arrived one mid-summer day with an invitation. “We’re tearing down the statues the Aesir left up. Want to help?”

Kratos found he did. And with the dwarf’s permission, he invited Freya and Angrboda as well. The former declined; the latter agreed wholeheartedly, though Kratos had a feeling the possibility of seeing a new realm influenced her decision. She was practically bursting with excitement when she arrived with Fenrir in tow.

“This place is amazing!” she said.

“It certainly smells nicer than it did,” Mimir noted.

Kratos grunted and kept an eye out for grims. They were going to a statue near a mining operation, not the one in town. It was probably for the best, considering Fenrir was there. The wolf was as excited as Angrboda, eagerly taking in all the new smells. Word of his size must have reached Niðavellir, because the few dwarves Durlin had assembled weren’t too alarmed at the sight of him. Still alarmed, but it could have been much worse. “What the fuck were you feeding that thing?” Durlin asked.

“I’ve seen bigger beasts,” Kratos said. The actual answer would take too long. “We thought he could help.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Durlin glanced Angrboda’s way. Like the citizens in Midgard, he seemed to figure out quickly that she was a giant. Unlike the citizens of Midgard, his reaction was much softer. “You want the first hit, little lady?”

Angrboda examined the statue critically. It was about as much an eyesore as the one in Niðavellir city proper. Then again, Kratos had a feeling it would be difficult to make Odin look good at all. “Actually,” she said, reaching into her bag, “there’s something I was thinking about doing first…”

She had small sacs filled with paint. The first slap of bright green struck the statue right in the eye patch, splattering across the face. It was strangely satisfying to watch; the cheers that accompanied it were even more so. Angrboda quickly started distributing the paint balls among the dwarves. Kratos was content to position Mimir so he could hurl insults and watch from a safe distance. Durlin joined him. “She seems like a sweet kid,” he noted. “Reminds me of someone we know.”

“Hmm.” Kratos glanced Durlin’s way. The dwarf’s eyes were fairly clear today. It was difficult to tell if he had stopped drinking entirely, or had decided he wanted all his faculties for the occasion. “You knew her well?”

“Not as well as I’d thought, apparently. Never would’ve picked her as the wife and mother type.” Durlin huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m happy for her, though. She deserved that peace.”

The dwarf’s voice softened as he spoke about her. Kratos was still getting used to hearing that tone when others spoke of her. She had been cared for by so many before him. It was comforting, to know that she had people around her even in her worse days. “You cared about her,” he noted.

Durlin’s next laugh was louder. “Not jealous of you, if that’s what you mean. But someone might be. Half of Niðavellir was in love with her by the end. You’re lucky you managed to get her before one of us did.” More encouraging shouts broke out in front of them. Fenrir had started digging at the statue’s base while the others egged him on. “Think they could use the extra muscle.”

In truth, Kratos could have brought the statue down single-handedly, but he knew the others needed the catharsis. He only expanded as much energy as needed to get the statue lowered down, allowing the others to bring it down entirely. The energy of the crowd was somewhere between a celebration and a battle. Fortunately, most of the insults being hurled were in Dwarvish. Kratos had a feeling they would be too strong for Angrboda.

Then again, he had no idea what her hurled insults were, either. She may have had a broader vocabulary than he realized.

Kratos was helping pry the statue’s head off when he heard it. The shout was distant at first, but quickly solidified into a familiar voice: “Kratos? Kratos?!”

It was Lúnda. When Kratos turned around, the dwarf was running towards them. Her face was as frantic as her tone. Kratos immediately ran to meet her. “It’s Sindri,” she gasped before Kratos could ask. “It’s…”

Kratos suddenly felt very cold. “Where?” he demanded.

“Back at the house…I don’t know, but something’s wrong. Please, I don’t know what to do.”

She was frightened. This woman had fought alongside Freyr against the Aesir, and this had her rattled. Kratos looked over his shoulder. Angrboda must have sensed something wrong; she’d followed him closer, but kept a safe distance away to avoid eavesdropping too much. “I have to…” Kratos started.

She nodded immediately. “Yeah, go. Fenrir can get me back home. I think I’ll be okay on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll look after her,” Durlin said immediately. His face remained calm, but Kratos saw one hand anxiously fiddling with one of his vest buttons. “Make sure he’s all right.”

“Thank you.”

His last sight of the group was Fenrir chasing after Odin’s severed head. He wished the sight could bring him any joy. All he could think about was Sindri.

I should have gone to the house more. I should have spoken to him before this. The thought that he had been giving the dwarf too much distance had crossed his mind, but never for long. He had other things on his mind: helping Freya, training his students, looking after Angrboda. But now all he could think was that he’d been using those tasks to avoid making things right. That he could have cut into the time spent on his own, used that to repair this wrong.

Repair it now. There is no sense dwelling in what-ifs.

He was bracing himself for something terrible. What they found when they reached the house was not what he’d expected. Somehow, that only made things worse.

The house was completely abandoned. The only sign of life was the upturned bucket on the floor, and the brush beside it. The main room smelled strongly of soap and damp, molding wood. The worst damage was centered around a spot near the table.

The place where Brok had breathed his last.

“He’s not upstairs either.” Lúnda ran down the stairs, dislodging her goggles as she ran a hand through her hair. “He was here when I left, I swear.”

“What the blazes was he doing?” Mimir asked.

“I don’t know. He was…talking crazy, saying Brok was in the floor or something. I don’t know what was wrong.”

Kratos knew. He may not have experienced it in the same way Sindri was, but he knew its root cause far too well.

“He is grieving,” he said quietly. Of course Sindri wasn’t behaving rationally. Nothing about grief was rational. For a moment, Kratos was back in Greece, sharpening his knife to the point of damaging it. He knew it was too much, but he couldn’t make himself stop. It was the only thing that made sense in light of the unthinkable. His friend, the man he would name his son after one day, gone.

And that was the most rational thing grief had driven him to do.

“We’ve gotta find him,” Lúnda said. “He shouldn’t be alone when he’s like this. I just don’t know where he’d go.”

Kratos did, or at least he had an idea. It’s where he’d go, if he’d known what he knew now. “I will look,” he said. “You two should wait here, in case he comes back.” He could see the protest forming on Lúnda’s face, so he cut it off quickly: “He may not be receptive if all of us go. One is better than a crowd. And…I need to do this.”

I have to set this right.

Lúnda relented with a heavy sigh, taking Mimir without complaint. “Just bring him back, okay?” she said.

“Good luck, brother,” Mimir said, his eyes soft with understanding.

Kratos nodded to them both and left.

He managed to avoid breaking into a run until he was following the World Tree to Alfheim.

Atreus had spoken sometimes of speaking to his mother, asking her for guidance. Faye’s only prayers had been ancestral; according to Angrboda, this was a giant practice. The gods haven’t really done much for us. All we’ve got is each other. Kratos had never tried, being out of practice with prayer in general and unsure of what to ask her.

He spoke to her now.

Please. I know he’s your friend. I need to find him. Show me where he is, elskan. Help me find him.

Show me.

His time in Alfheim had been limited over the past months, but Kratos still remembered the way. Through the closest gate, to the Lake of Souls. With Lúnda’s help, they had been able to reopen a gate on the far shores, near the forge Sindri had used. That day had been difficult (trying to dodge the latest fight that had broken out had been tedious), but Kratos was grateful for the effort now. He half-expected to find Sindri there, hammering away at a weapon as he had that day in Midgard, but the forges were quiet and still. No sign of him.

Kratos stopped and forced himself to breathe.

He is likely here. He knows this is where Brok’s soul would have gone. But where is the best spot? Closer to the temple? It made the most sense. His hands shook as he shoved the boat into the water. Calm, he reminded himself. Panic will not serve you now.

Then, Faye, please.

He felt nothing but his aching dread until he reached the lake. He steered the boat towards the western shores–the beach near where Odin had kept one of the Valkyries. Good view of the light. Easy access to the water. And something else–a growing certainty that he wanted to trust. It may have been foolish, it may have been nothing…

There.

A pile of armor on the shore.

Pure instinct screamed at him to get out, get out now, get into the water, but he controlled it long enough to beach the boat. He’d risk losing it if he didn’t, and it would be faster to get Sindri home that way. A glance confirmed that the armor was his, which meant…

Kratos barely stopped to leave some of his own gear before plunging into the water.

The water was cool, and only grew colder the deeper he swam. Weeds and underwater plants swayed in the currents; a few times, he could have sworn they were not plants, but arms, hands, eyes watching him from the darkness.

Both eyes forward. Focus.

It was difficult to see, but the same impulse that had pulled him to the shore called him onwards. The deeper he swam, the more it took on a concrete form. A familiar voice–an even more familiar song. There was something different about it now, more urgent. Here, it whispered. He’s here. This way, my love, he’s here.

Kratos followed that feeling, even as his lungs started to burn. He followed it until a patch of darkness turned into something solid, into a small form drifting listlessly, dragged downwards by the plants.

There!

Kratos surged forward to grab the body. As he did, he could have sworn he felt something brush his cheek. Whatever it was, it gave him the energy to swim back to the surface, to the sunlight above, and from there to the shore. Sindri’s body was unmoving at first; when Kratos put him down, the dwarf’s lungs remembered to breathe. The first attempt brought convulsions, movement, Sindri turning over as he coughed up lake water onto the shore.

Kratos breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you. Thank you. The hardest part may have been yet to come, but at least he had the chance now. “Breathe,” Kratos said. “Slowly.”

Sindri’s coughing subsided. He wouldn’t look directly at Kratos. “Can you hear me?” Kratos tried. Sindri may have only been semi-conscious. Perhaps he needed more rest before-

“Why did you pull me out?” Sindri asked.

It was a question Kratos had not wanted to hear. It was also one that he understood.

Kratos sighed and sat in the sands, not too far away, but far enough to give Sindri space. He thought of Sindri’s face in the workshop that day, of his own deep pain in the deepest pits of Hades. Deimos and Brok, each twice-lost. “I had a brother,” he said. “The gods took him from me, too. It took a long time for me to…stop blaming myself for what happened. You should have that chance.”

Deimos. What would his brother think of him now? They’d barely had the chance to know each other. In truth, Kratos had envied Brok and Sindri sometimes. They had been separated for a time, but they still had many years shared between them. Kratos barely had six years when they were children, a handful of moments as adults. All the rest had been robbed from him because of some prophecy.

Some cycles couldn’t help repeating themselves, it seemed.

“You do not have to speak to me,” Kratos added. “I understand, you are angry. You have every right to be. But I am not leaving you here alone.” Not again, not this time. Not when the wounds were still so raw and open. Being alone is worse. He should have remembered that. Should have tried to convince Sindri of it sooner.

There was another stretch of silence. He glimpsed Sindri moving, not quite getting up, but hunching over less. When the dwarf spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

“I killed him.”

Again, three words Kratos did not want to hear. And three words he understood.

“It’s my fault,” Sindri repeated, louder this time. His voice broke under the strain of his grief. “Oh, gods, I killed him.”

Sindri fell apart.

For a moment, Kratos felt he should not be there. This pain was too raw, too intimate; what right did he have to witness it? But he had sworn he would not leave. Now, more than ever, Sindri should not be alone.

He moved close enough to grip the dwarf’s shoulder. Sindri did not protest. Kratos still could not look directly at him, so instead he looked out over the water. Partially for threats. Mostly for answers.

How do I help him bear this?

How can anyone?

Sindri’s sobs quieted eventually. Once they had, Kratos stood and walked to the boat, and the pile of discarded items next to it. The Blades, Leviathan, a few of his own things. He made sure his weapons were out of the water’s reach and picked up a water skin before returning to Sindri. He grunted quietly and held it out in offering. “Do you have anything stronger?” Sindri asked, his voice ravaged by tears.

Maybe I should’ve brought something stronger. “Water first,” Kratos said. “You need it more.”

He sat back down in the sand, half-watching Sindri drink. The knuckles of the dwarf’s exposed hand looked red and raw, probably from the cleaning he’d been doing. He’d lost weight, too, his already thin face looking more haggard than before. He needs rest, Kratos though. Food. If he could be convinced to take it. “How did you know I was here?” Sindri asked as he handed back the water skin.

“Lúnda said you were distressed. Talking about Brok. I thought…”

If it had been me, I would have tried to bring her back, too.

“I heard her here,” Kratos said instead. “Both times. Your shop is not far. It seemed a logical place to start.”

“...Lúnda’s not here, is she?”

Kratos shook his head. “No, she stayed at your home. The head, too. I made sure they wouldn’t follow. You have time.”

He likely needed it. Kratos had asked them to stay for a reason. Just because Sindri shouldn’t be alone did not mean he needed a full audience for his grief. Kratos was sure his presence was bad enough. And yet despite that assumption…

“How do you do it?” Sindri asked quietly. “How do you…handle it all?”

Of all the people Sindri could have asked. Kratos almost wanted to laugh. “Not as well as you’d think,” he admitted. He cast aside his self-mockery and carefully considered his next words. “I simply lived with it, for a long time. If you can call it living. Faye, she…” He had to pause at the memory of that day in the woods. Of the first time she ever held his hand, soft and careful. “...she said once that we would always walk together. That she would always carry a part of me, and I of her. The culmination of love is grief, and yet…we still open our hearts to it. I did not understand what she meant until recently.” He only wished he could have understood sooner. “The pain…no longer feels like pain. Or it feels less so. Instead I feel her. What she taught me, what she gave me. It takes time to accept, but it is possible.”

Now more than ever, he was sure she was with them. That she had called them down to those waters. And even if he couldn’t feel it as clearly elsewhere, she was still with him.

She always had been.

“I mean,” Sindri, “Faye hasn’t been wrong yet.” Despite himself, Kratos chuckled. “She was right about something else. He who walks his own path walks alone.” Sindri met his eyes. They were still red from tears, tired and pained, but clear. “It wasn’t your fault, and…I’m sorry for what I said.”

Kratos had not realized how heavy the weight truly had been until it was lifted. This was not about him, he knew, but he was still…grateful. “You were grieving. I understand. It is behind us.” In the past where it belonged. Now, he could look to a future, one perhaps with Sindri in it. Except… “I do not know if you heard…”

“About Atreus or about Tyr?”

“Both.”

From the look on Sindri’s face, he had. Kratos was not entirely surprised. Atreus’s departure had been quieter, but not unnoticed; Týr’s reappearance, meanwhile, had certainly created a stir. Both would be hard for Sindri, Kratos knew, each in their own way. The only question was how hard, and how he would bear those weights as well.

“He’s going to be okay, right?” Sindri asked.

There was no anger in his voice, no blame. Instead, Kratos heard regret. He missed his son desperately then, and wished he could be there to mend things. But it could wait. Perhaps it was better if it did. “He will,” Kratos said. “I know he will.”

He accepted it as a certainty. His son would return. This could be mended. Both thoughts gave him some comfort.

He hoped they gave Sindri some comfort as well.

They sat in silence for a time. Kratos was grateful for the quiet, and equally unnerved that it was so quiet. Alfheim was never this quiet for him. Elskan, if this is you somehow, I am grateful…but why only this once? He could picture her laughing at the question, clearly as if she were there. I mean it.

“I don’t know if…if I can go back to the house,” Sindri said suddenly.

Kratos did not blame him. He wasn’t sure he wanted Sindri back in that place anyway. There was still too much pain there. Too many memories. “There is room in my home, if you wish,” Kratos said. There was never a doubt in his mind about that. “I cannot promise the wolves will leave you alone, but there is always a place for you.”

It was only right. Sindri was family, some of the first they’d found there. Kratos would have made the same offer to any of the others, but it felt especially important here. It’s what Faye would have wanted. That was reason enough.

Sindri considered it before nodding. “Okay. Okay. If you’re sure.”

“Hmm.” Kratos stood and offered Sindri a hand. “I’m sure.” Sindri hesitated, but took the help getting up. “Home, then.”

“Yeah. Home.”

They gathered their things and rowed back to the gate. Kratos only lingered a moment once the boat secure, pausing to close his eyes and let the sun warm his face.

He thought he felt that touch on his cheek again.

Thank you.

Kratos opened his eyes again, turned to the gate, and brought Sindri back home.

.

“You look tired.”

Sunset had turned Freya’s quarters golden. It was a space Kratos had only seen once, and briefly. It seemed more lived-in now, which was good. Freya hadn’t mentioned any resistance against her return to Vanaheim, but Kratos still worried. “I was going to say the same to you,” he retorted.

Freya rolled her eyes as she poured him a cup of mead. “It’s almost like being queen is exhausting,” she said. “Who would have thought?”

“Hmm.” Kratos took the cup with a grateful nod. “Anything I can help with?”

“Not really. We’ve just spent so much time under Asgard’s thumb. It’s…difficult, starting over.” She stared into her own cup, as if the answers were floating inside somewhere. “I think some people aren’t convinced Odin is gone.”

Kratos understood. There were times when he felt the same way about Olympus.

“What about you?” Freya added. “Those kids giving you trouble?”

“No. They listen well. They’re eager to learn.” They might have been the easiest thing he was handling lately, had it not been for one detail. “One of the parents…tried to give me an offering yesterday.”

“...oh?”

Kratos nodded. “I told her to keep it. Use it for her family. But they want to know what they should call me.” The admission made him feel ill. For a moment, he remembered the smell of burnt offerings, a statue in chains, the taste of blood and unsweetened wine. Nothing like the small bundle of food held in shaking hands, and yet everything like it at the same time.

“Are you really surprised?” Freya asked. “Most of their gods were just using them. You gut their fish and train their children to protect themselves with no expectation of repayment. If you didn’t want attention, you should have stayed in those woods.”

“I know, I know.” She was right, of course. Kratos took a long drag from his cup and sighed heavily. “It is not only that.”

“Your past?”

That as well, but not entirely. “My present. Sindri is still struggling. It is difficult to feel godlike when I can’t even help him.”

Sindri had more or less settled since that day in Alfheim, but grief still hounded him like a predator. Some days he would sweep the same patch of floor over and over, or move around the house carefully adjusting items so they were exactly in their place. He’d even insisted on tending to Kratos’s armor, as much as Kratos had tried to talk him out of it. I have to do something, he’d said. It’s like I’ve got this swarm of nightmares in my head, and doing stuff like this is the only thing that keeps them at bay. Do you know what I mean?

Kratos did, in a way. He was not sure he experienced it the same way Sindri did, but he understood the basic sentiment.

“You’re doing everything you can for him,” Freya said. “He’s not alone now. That’s what matters.”

Kratos wasn’t sure he felt that way, but he tried to believe it.

“I came here to see how you were doing,” Kratos noted suddenly. How had they gotten to talking about him?

“Well, in that case, please, let’s keep talking about your life,” Freya said dryly. Kratos laughed. “Have you been sleeping enough? Remembering to eat?”

“You can’t hide from your problems by fixing mine.”

“Oh, really?” Freya made a show of looking around her room. “Hold on, I think I have a mirror you can look at…”

“All right, all right. I yield.” Kratos sighed, for once in amusement and not in exasperation, and leaned back in his chair. “I propose an armistice. Neither of us discusses our problems. We are simply two friends having dinner.”

“That’s fine with me.” Freya took the opportunity to start drizzling honey over a thick slice of bread. “That said, there is…one thing you might be able to help with.”

He would, of course, without question, but… “Is it urgent?” he said.

“It will keep.”

He topped off his cup with more mead. “Then ask me when I’m done with this.” They could rest that long, he thought. Perhaps it would do them some good.

Freya smiled gently. “Okay.”

He drank slowly. They talked about the summer heat and returning plant life. Their problems kept for a little while longer.

They didn’t seem so insurmountable by the time he reached the bottom of his cup.

.

He returned to Midgard three days later thinking that he had spoken too soon. He did have some dragon scales for Lúnda to use and no one had died. That was about his only consolation.

And at least it’s not Aesir interference, he reminded himself. He had faced worse. And more annoying. But he was glad to be home.

Sindri hadn’t gone mad during Kratos’s absence. He supposed that was another victory. He was tense, but the dwarf was often tense, so Kratos assumed he would live through it. Neither spoke about how their days had gone. They only settled down around the fire pit to eat.

“I am this close to just replacing the fucking floors,” Sindri suddenly. “I don’t want to look at them anymore.”

Kratos nodded, more out of support than because he had truly registered the words. He had to run them over a few more times in his mind. He thought about the damp wood smell, that dark stain in the center of the floor. He hadn’t seen them since, but he doubted the time away had made things any better.

“We could do it,” Kratos replied.

“Do what?”

“Replace the floors.”

Sindri looked taken aback that Kratos had agreed with him.But after some consideration, he straightened up. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. We could. Uhm, I mean, if you’re okay with helping.”

“I am.” He didn’t like to think of the house in that state, and it might do Sindri some good.

It might do both of them some good.

[ask-a-thon]

Hi I just wanted to ask clarification on what content isn't allowed before I do questions and tag your blog in replies

I understand that having a concrete list might make it harder later but if you did I wouldn't be wondering what "within reason" means and whether non-con/underage/incest will get me blacklisted or something (since your wording makes it seem like that could be possible)

This is the section I'm referring to from this post:

https://www.tumblr.com/ask-a-thon/727189255425867776/a-gentle-warning

> However, that being said, there are reasonable exceptions that are not allowed to join the ask-thingie here. I think you all reasonably know who you are but if you're confused, please ask and I'll kindly tell you that I won't be adding you to the list.

"reasonable exceptions" is too vague. i worry that you mean writers like me when you say "know who you are"

Thank you in advance for your reply

Anon, thank you so much for your questions asking for clarifications and for pointing out that I was too vague when I made this post. You're absolutely right. I am also very sorry that it has taken me so long to get back to you, as I was very busy yesterday and it took both me and Myth a little bit to figure out some specifics now that we are working together. However, because I unknowingly created this problem I wanted to try to fix it and clarify it myself.

How are we fixing this problem?

We are going to make a specific FAQ and link it in the post you mention.

I am also going to link that FAQ in every pinned post that ever pops up again.

We are going to keep the FAQ updated with any other similar questions, especially clarifying questions from whump, distrubing, and smut writers.

I am going to go ahead and lightly answer your questions now so that you don't have to wait and so that other writers have the opportunity to see the answers twice.

Warning. The following messages use triggering language for some people. Some triggers include SA, incest, non-con, underage themes, etc. Please read at your own discretion.

Some of the things you said re-framed as questions so we have an answer:

Will non-con get me blacklisted?

Consensual non-con will not get you blacklisted. Not in smut, not in your romantic writing, not in anything. This is something that might make people uncomfortable but there is consent. Non-con in purposefully disturbing writing is also allowed because one of the key factors of disturbing writing is to be disturbed. I have always said that writers do not always write what they enjoy, what they believe, what they want the world to be like, because that's just not how writing works. However, anything that glorifies rape with the direct intention of just saying "rape is okay" is never, ever, at any point, allowed.

What about underage content?

I, Mod Aster, completely understand that there are a lot of minors on this website that want to read smut that includes their age group and that no matter how you spin it, it is legally underage content. That being said, underage content falls under a legal grey area that both me and Myth are uncomfortable navigating. We are also uncomfortable pre-reading your work and seeing if it will be allowed so, maybe unfortunately, we are going to put a hard NO on this one. I do apologize for putting a hard no on any form of writing because Ask-A-Thon is supposed to be a safe space for everyone to share their writing, but I do personally fear that even if the legal area is wider than I would suspect, Tumblr's TOS is graceful, all of that, some really nasty adults will use this as an opportunity and I'd hate to expose minors to that sort of thing.

And/or Incest?

We cannot keep track of where it is illegal for you to post incest smut, disturbing fiction, otherwise online. That is up to you to figure out. Personally, as someone who reads a lot of disturbing fiction, I loved Flowers in the Attic for how the main character struggles with this "issue" and navigates this through her life. I am not saying incest has to be disturbing for you to be able to post it, but because of the comfort zones of one, or more, of our mods and admins we are going to say that as long as you put this under a mature filter and it is not super explicit, we will allow it until we feel people abuse it.

For things that end up on the okay list we will ask a few things:

Please make sure all trigger warnings and content warnings are labeled appropriately and are at the top of your post so that people understand exactly what they're getting into before reading too far.

Underage smut is never allowed. However, if you're writing a very "steamy romance" between minors without intercourse in it, you should make sure it has appropriate warnings for adults that want to avoid that sort of thing.

Things that include anything on this current list BUT are just a short explanation of something happening, only briefly mention, and have nothing explicit are always allowed.

If you feel like you are still confused and are wondering if your works will get you blacklisted, please message Ask-A-Thon for clarifying questions. You are more than welcome to send your work, show us a post, and we would be more than happy to read it over and tell you your answer without any aggression, without any finger pointing, and without judgement despite how the linked post was written.

Please remember that the post that was linked was written somewhat aggressively because the original intention was to get people to be nice to whump writers. I, Aster, had no idea that disturbing fiction, non-con, etc, writers would think I was being aggressive to them. For that I am so apologetic and I do hope you'll forgive me.

Please give us some time to make the FAQ, post it, and link it everywhere.

-Mod Aster

[domxbot]

— Admin PSA

— Hello, admin here. As some of you are aware, I'm slowly getting back into things and I apologise for it taking so long. Everyone should have their contracts by now and I'll be getting things finalised shortly so everyone is added to the dom's statuses.

There are a few things I want to clarify going forward so that everyone is on the same page.

The 'basic rules' that are mentioned in the contract are the same basic rules linked in the pinned post.

There is basically a three week grace period with replies, if you haven't given a heads up within the three weeks AFTER a private message has been sent then things are ended shortly after a message from me. This doesn't mean I will be replying every week, I may take a week off because real life is more important but if I do need to take longer off, I will inform you as well.

That being said, I will be focusing on private messages more than making posts until I decide to take applications again. This is so that I can focus more on those already waiting for me and keeping things rolling rather than spending all my time doing reblogs.

Reblogs are on a queue and will be done on Mondays and Fridays.

This part is important and needs clarification so that people are aware of what can happen:

This bot was designed to have fun and to have a different dynamic outside of dating/relationships. The chances of officially dating one of the doms is RARE and may not happen as it would defeat the purpose of this bot.

If you have a relationship prior to engaging/signing the contract and they are aware and okay with this then you will be accepted with no issues. If you get into a relationship AFTER signing a contract, there is a chance of things being ended especially if issues arise from the relationship.

If you do not consider the dynamic something that takes up a 'slot', this is where it can become messy with any partners taken on afterwards and the doms are aware that relationships are more important and will encourage you to pursue happiness rather than something that is contractual.

If the dynamic does take up a 'slot', this may not affect you depending on how the other partners react. It may be ended if it seems like you are unable to keep up with the private messages as again, relationships are more important than a contracted dynamic.

Ending the contracts will not cause any animosity from myself or the doms as long as it's done respectfully. Some of the doms may choose to remain friends and will still interact.

Also, please do not tag the doms in posts designed or meant for other relationships unless it's something that is also meant for them to comment on.

Hope that clears everything up and hopefully everyone is doing okay! If you have any questions, please pop on in and I'll clear things up. Please expect private messages to pick back up from this week on their scheduled days.

— Admin

✗ — @multi-esme, @oc-journal, @aexdreamcatcher-cb

✩ — @san-cb, @dark-royals-cb, @logan-oc-cb, @kitakcb, @/multi-esme, @littleboywooyoungie

❀ — @reve-rv, @monsterhigh-cb, @jayswritingcafe

[zer0status]

Heyhey, welcome to tumblr!! This is in reply to your post asking abt the whump fandom, so I am here to share info!!

Yeah, there’s a huge and diverse community of people on here who enjoy/write whump, it’s mostly people writing prompts or even full stories and exchanging/interacting with each other!

To better define whump, I would say it’s mostly considered any kind of situation where a character is having a rough time, which can range from being sick with a cold all the way to the most severe stuff!

‘Whumpee’ is a term for the main person (or people) who receive/experience the suffering.

‘Caretaker’ is the person who takes care of/helps the Whumpee. (They aren’t always necessary or included in whump, it depends on what the writer prefers)

Whumper is the person inflicting the suffering onto the Whumpee (this is also not always included, for example ‘sickfic’ whump, environmental whump, etc. wouldn’t need a PERSON to inflict the whump)

All of this can be played with, subverted, etc etc, there’s no strict guidelines for creativity! I would say the only thing is that the topics can get pretty heavy and people have different limits, so people try to tag their posts with the content mentioned (like ‘hostage situation’ ‘noncon touching’ ‘creepy whumper’ etc) so others can blacklist them. You can also blacklist tags yourself in settings (should be in settings under ‘dashboard preferences’ and ‘filtering’)!

OH Also, yes you can absolutely use the tags for lil comments, people do it constantly hehe, it’s very fun and (often) preferred over actual comments left under a post (which are usually used for ADDING something to the post rather than just speaking!)

Apologies for the length LOL I hope it helps in some way though!!

Thanks for the clarification! This is a whole new world for me which is perfect because my old fandoms have started to grow a little stale and this looks like a great addition to my library of fanfiction.

[theofficersacademy]

Welcome to the first day of 2022′s Arena (Winter)!

Your teams and Bronze Round opponents have been arranged on the sheet here.

If you’ve participated in our lore events, you’re already aware of how structured TOA battles work. If not, don’t worry! Under the Read More below, we’ve laid out how the flow of combat goes (if you read this last Arena, read it again! We’ve added some new things). If you have any questions, ask them! These events are intended to teach combat through small, contained battles, and also work out general kinks in weapons and combat flow.

Your rolls must be done with the Dice Maiden bot in our server, and you must roll in your team’s thread. You will also be rolling for your enemies’ attacks, following a set of rules designated in the doc itself. We encourage every team to set up their own combat tracker doc as well. This serves both as a cross-check to the mod-curated combat doc, as well as a way to learn how combat calculations are done. Of course, the mods will be available for skill clarifications and any other help you may need.

The schedule for the rounds will be as follows (each round ends around noon on the final day, and the new one will begin the day after):

Bronze Round: December 3rd - 6th Iron Round: 7th - 10th Steel Round: 11th - 14th Silver Round: 15th - 18th Gold Round: 19th - 22nd

A team will automatically progress to the next round if all enemies are defeated. If the round ends before your team manages to defeat their opponents, the mod team will assess damage dealt and contribution from the individuals of the team. If the enemy team’s collective HP is less than 50%, the player team will advance to the next round. If there are instances when one teammate seems to be holding an entire team back without asking for appropriate skips for their turns, the team may pass with the member in question disqualified. Teams should not have to wait more than 24 hours for a teammate to post, and the expected speed for each member is roughly 1 post a day, although this is dependent on teammates.

Remember to tag all posts with #toaarena2022winter

If you need any help, please reach out to the mods! Thank you!

- The House Leaders

Battles in TOA are turn-based, similar to an RPG.

First is the player phase, where each muse on the team has a chance to make their move. They can attack or use a support skill (heal, rally, etc), and that will be their turn. Turn order historically has been decided in the first turn, but that may change if a teammate asks to skip a turn or if the team decides to shift around turn order. The turn order does not have to remain the same across all rounds and should prioritize both IC motivations and mun availability.

If a character attacks an enemy, they will be counterattacked unless activating a skill that prevents counterattacks.

After a team has finished their phase, the battle moves on to the enemy phase. The enemy phase follows the same rules as player phase, except the enemy attacks first and the target can counterattack.

After every enemy takes a turn, the battle returns to player phase and the process repeats again until all of one side is defeated or otherwise unable to continue.

In this event, muses do not die if they are brought to 0HP and are able to continue into the next round if their team wins. HP is retained between battles, but if a character is KO’d, they will be automatically revived with 50% HP at the start of the next battle.

The rolls you make in the server when you take your action are written out as a reply in your battle thread. The nat20 you rolled for your attack becomes your muse getting fired up, as you write out just exactly how they landed that super-cool crit (or you write about how your muse sees sunset colors through fluttering eyelashes after the enemy runs a critical hit through their gut). This is also a great time to bond with your allies and forge relationships you might not otherwise have had to chance to create, and thread replies don’t have to JUST contain combat.

Actions must be announced when a roll is made, not after. RNG may not always be in your favor, but that’s the fun of it. Please do not get upset by or try to bend bad rolls. This also applies to combat arts, which must be announced before a roll just like an ordinary attack.