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mutable-manifestation · 9 months

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Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 4

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

Explaining The Papers (™) to Frostbite takes a While (also ™).

Though with no more imminent threat of “Vlad maybe finding out he’s the ghost king and becoming Insufferable (also also ™) about it” Danny was feeling a lot less stressed - Sam and Tucker, too, if the fact that they were actually drinking their tea now instead of just barely sipping at it was any indication - or they could’ve only just cooled enough to actually drink, the FF did tend to overestimate the level of heat they could tolerate just a tad.

Not to say that he wasn’t still stressed, given the whole “the Justice League is trying to summon ME” thing. But like. They were reaching out hoping for peace, not hoping to skin/dissect/exterminate him.

Plus they don’t know how to summon him; he figures he has time. Hopefully enough to get Frostbite’s advice.

And mostly to cool his own nerves, because now that he knows they did try to help and are helping the Justice League is Cool again! And they want to meet him!

Well, they want to meet the ghost king, but they already watched him! They thought he was a capable hero!

Danny isn’t really used to getting positive feedback, so being called “good hands” by Superman - Superman! The hero! The Alien hero! (well, one of them. Martian Manhunter is also amazing but he hasn’t complimented Danny in person yet so he doesn’t have any expectations for Danny to live up to. Maybe. Hypothetically).

The JL is so cool and they think he’s cool! Or at least capable! Except now he has to impress them not just as a hero but as a king?

Yeah.

Suffice to say, Danny is now a little nervous.

(And also maybe redirecting his nerves intentionally to be about the JL so he doesn’t have to breathe into a bag about being probably the only thing between the Zone and eventual total dimensional collapse because Frostbite was very ‘this is normal and okay’ about it but it’s eventual total dimensional collapse [ALL OF THEM] and it is Danny’s problem. But no, he’s just nervous about meeting the JL. Totally.)

Reciting pretty much his whole life story - well, the basics of his parents’ work and then pretty much everything from the portal onward - gives him time to untense, and honestly, getting it all out to a mostly uninvolved third party - one he likes and trusts - really is a weight off his shoulders.

He’ll never tell Jazz; the amount of I-told-you-so-energy she’d leech into the air would be unbearable.

Sam and Tucker tag in here and there too, and mostly take over when they get to the part where the GIW bought Fenton Works for a short while to try and destroy the zone. Danny winces at the memory of his behavior back then.

The explanation runs for longer than it could have, given the aside they make when they get to his parents’ theories.

Frostbite is quick to confirm the combat-as-a-positive-social-behavior thing, and it turns out Sam is right about how to tell the difference.

Of course, Danny thinks they were all trying to kill him the rest of the way, but then that’s not a concern most ghosts have, so Frostbite offers his own perspective.

Skulker wants to hang his pelt on a wall: clearly unfriendly.

Technus is just having fun - enjoying playing with new technology in the living realm and throwing Danny around/being thrown around. He’s a friend. The whole world domination idea isn’t malicious as far as he’s concerned, because damage to the living realm doesn’t mean much to ghosts. What do they care about the living? What is the value of a single world as collateral when weighed against the games of ghosts?

If Danny wants him to stop that, Frostbite tells him, he can just propose a new game.

Ember genuinely just wanted a powerboost from the Earth that first time, but her returns since are a gesture of friendship.

Spectra definitely hates him though. Which is good. He wouldn’t know how to feel if Frostbite had said that that whole mess was an attempt at friendship.

As for the thing with his parents, Frostbite compares it to winning a tournament only to find out the other participants lost intentionally. You haven’t really won a competition if the competitors were not competing.

Like going in for a handshake only to get a “too slow” - even more insulting if it’s the first “too slow” you’ve ever gotten - Tucker suggests.

Or like asking a parent to a hug and only getting a wave. Not even a high-five.

They each go through another three cups of tea before the story winds down, Frostbite doing adding little more than the occasional nod or noise of acknowledgement - barring the social combat explanation, of course.

It’s nice, Danny thinks, to have an adult that actually listens. Even if said adult is a dead yeti.

“You have given me much to think on Great One, Friends Sam and Tucker,” he says after the three of them finally run out of words, giving each of them a nod. “And soon, we shall have much more to discuss. First, however, it seems that I have a meeting to call. And you have living needs that require attending to yet. Eat, rest, and, if you would, return here… let’s say the day after tomorrow? Then we can begin to discuss the…issues. At hand.”

Back in the Specter Speeder, Tucker wonders aloud if “call a meeting” is code for yelling at the Observants.

Then he looks at his PDA and realizes how late it’s gotten - namely, past all of their curfews - and they promptly turn the conversation to getting their story straight (and three backups because they’re all feeling paranoid with how high-stakes everything suddenly became. Not that the occasional ghost looking to wreck earth wasn't already high-stakes, but the whole political aspect made it feel... different).

***

Danny is thankful it’s summer vacation at the moment, because the next morning is a Monday.

He doesn’t know how he’d manage school with his mind miles away wondering about things like “how to king” and “how to maintain the fabric of reality” and other totally normal, non-stressful topics.

Just normal high schooler things.

His parents are gone before he’s even up, leaving a note for him and Jazz on the kitchen table.

They eat a quiet breakfast together.

The whole house is quiet. It’s unnatural, he thinks, and the small frown on Jazz’ face tells him she feels the same.

They normally enjoy the brief lulls of quiet that their parents leave behind, but this is perhaps the first time they’ve ever missed breakfast - well, the first time they haven’t been in the house during breakfast at least. A welding torch, clanging metal, clinking glass, minor explosions, and excited shouting is the usual background noise of their morning meal - whether from the basement door or at the table itself.

This time, the silence is disquieting.

Even more so since it means that Danny could, at any time, be teleported somewhere. He really should have asked Frostbite about how that works before they left - they’d already missed curfew anyway.

After they’ve both finished eating, he takes the opportunity to fill Jazz in on the whole… everything.

She is, to put it lightly, Not Impressed.

“-s bad enough they let you fight Pariah Dark in the first place! You should never have been in that position! I know that you’re a capable fighter Danny, but you’re fourteen-”

“I’m almost fifteen,” he grumbles.

“You’re not yet fifteen,” she says, glaring into the distance, expression practically snarling. Danny thinks she might be imagining strangling an Observant, based on the… choice words she’d had for them earlier. “And they want you to be a king!”

Tucker chooses that moment to arrive, walking right into the path of where Jazz is glaring and freezing until Sam shoves him out of her way to close the door and drag him into the kitchen.

“Who spat in your cereal?” she asks, moving to sit and kicking the fourth chair out for Tucker.

“Whoever or whatever is responsible for deciding that a fourteen year old child should be king when there are no doubt numerous thousand-plus year old candidates who don’t have human lives they still need to attend to!” She bellows, throwing her hands up in frustration.

The trio exchange a glance while she takes a few calming breaths.

Danny kind of wants to point out that he isn’t a child, he’s a teenager. And she’s barely older than him.

But he does have some sense of self-preservation, even if there’s only so much self left to preserve. Heh.

Then she gasps.

“Danny! You’re still half alive!”

“Er, yes?”

“Maybe that’s why the Watching Wraiths didn’t say anything! Maybe you can’t be the Ghost King if you’re still partly alive!”

“But Frostbite said-” Tucker starts, only to be cut off by Jazz.

“Frostbite could be wrong.” She sniffs. “And even if he isn’t you there are millenia before it becomes a problem. The Zone can wait for you to graduate high school before it goes demanding things of you. Or longer.”

The words are decisive.

Still….

“The Justice League-”

“Can cope. They’ll be a little paranoid about retaliation, but a little paranoia won’t kill them. And maybe letting them stew a bit will teach them to be more active about taking down genocidal organizations before they hurt so many people.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sam says, tone saying the opposite, “except the part where they’re actively working on figuring out how to summon the ghost king - who is Danny - and are probably also going to try and make contact with Phantom at some point - who is also Danny.”

Jazz frowns.

“Well. You don’t have to be a king to talk to the Justice League. Just tell them you’re still too young - which is true - or that the coronation is going to take a long time to plan - which, according to Frostbite, would be a reasonable claim. And also true since you will not be taking the throne until you are at least 18 if the Fenton Peeler and I have anything to say about it.”

“Uh. I don’t know if the Peeler is the best idea. With your…aim.” Tucker cringes, shrinking back in his seat when her unhappy frown snaps to him.

Then she looks thoughtful.

“You know what. I’ll just use a specter deflector. You mentioned before how humans are ghosts in the ghosts zone; see if they still feel like making a child a king when they’ve got an unstrikable target punching their lights out about it.”

“Please don’t antagonize a bunch of ghosts who could try and attack you while you're sleeping,” Danny pleads.

“It’s bad enough that all this has impacted your sleep and grades and attendance records so much; I’m not going to let a bunch of ghost nobles - or whatever they’re called - mess things up for you even more. If they don’t like my proposals they can un-friendly fight me about it, and if you’re worried about retribution I can turn on the house defenses in my room when I sleep. But I am not letting this go.”

She stands.

“Since he didn’t give you a time, we’ll leave to visit Frostbite after breakfast tomorrow-”

“We?” the trio ask hesitantly.

“Of course. But for now, there’s something else we need to do, little brother.”

That said, she turns and heads for the basement.

Danny and Tucker blink at the abrupt departure, while Sam just frowns thoughtfully.

The three exchange one more meaningful glance, before sharing a shrug and moving to follow her.

They arrive in the basement to Fenton Fighting Ring rising out of the floor.

“Uh, Jazz?” Danny tries.

“We’re going to fight!”

In stark contrast to both her words and her furious demeanor upstairs, her tone and expression are bright and eager.

“Um. That’s. Nice, but you know that’s a ghost thing, right?” he offers hesitantly.

“I mean, I still fight with Dora,” Sam adds, the traitor.

“Thank you Sam,” Jazz starts. “But even without that example; you are part ghost, brother mine. That means fighting loved ones is a you thing. I love you, so of course I’m going to fight you.”

“Mom and Dad theorized - and Frostbite confirmed - that the fighting is a social behavior. Many social behaviors are also needs. Members of social species that are not allowed to socialize become stressed and their health worsens. Humans who don’t communicate with other humans for too long experience negative side effects, too little physical contact can lead to depressed mood and so forth,” she monologues as she moves into the ring.

“As you’re still half human, neglecting the social needs of your ghost half could negatively impact your wellbeing. Also. I’m your sister and I love you. If I could never hug you I’d be bummed. This is like the ghost equivalent of that. So. Square up, little brother.”

Danny is kind of touched, actually.

Still.

“...Don’t you at least want an anti-creep stick?” he asks, gesturing at her general lack of ghost gear as he slips intangibly through the ropes around the ring.

“Nope!” She says cheerfully. “For this match we’ll be doing no powers and no weapons - just basic human strength and skill. We can try other kinds of fights later.”

Danny pales.

“No way! You’re a 4th degree black belt!”

“9th!” she corrects, still cheerfully - and she clearly means well, but for Danny that smile is beginning to look like an omen of ill fortune.

“That’s even worse!” he cries. “I’m only a blue belt! Barely!”

“I ~told~ you you should’ve stuck with mom’s training,” she sing-songs teasingly.

He cringes, but takes a stance.

“Now let's see how much you remember.”

That’s the only warning he gets before she’s in his face.

His strength, speed, stamina, endurance, and durability are all completely back to baseline in human form unless he actively uses his flight to compensate, but one thing he notes as the fight draws on is that his reaction speed is still the same.

Even so, it’s painfully obvious just how beyond him she is in terms of skill.

Without any powers to fall back on, Jazz runs circles around him like it’s nothing.

His reaction speed means that he sees everything she’s doing and that he has time to bring his arms up, but he keeps lagging trying to recall forms and getting shoved around for it, the defenses he manages too poor to be of any use.

Other times he lags because he’s suppressing instinctual power usage.

And multiple times he accidentally, instinctively abandons proper stance all together, habitually falling into the stance of his usual “feral racoon” style of fighting - as Jazz had one called it - which isn’t much of a stance at all in a fight with no powers. Especially given how it's not made for someone fighting on the ground. She takes brutal advantage of every opening.

He’s on the back foot from the first second of the fight, and it’s obvious that it only lasted for longer than one because Jazz allowed it to, testing him.

It’s frustrating that he’s doing so poorly - he knows he’s doing poorly - but despite that, he really is having fun.

It reminds him of the training spars at the Far Frozen - restrained skill set, fight with defined boundaries and win conditions-

Aaaaand evidently he let his mind wander too much.

And Jazz noticed.

And flipped him.

He’s thoroughly pinned in short order and he cannot for the life of him remember how to escape the hold short of cheating with intangibility.

“Uncle,” he calls.

Jazz pulls him to his feet and ruffles his hair.

He squawks indignantly, but she just chuckles.

"Good fight little brother," she calls as she slips between the ropes out of the ring.

"Our hero," Sam drawls as he follows.

Danny just pouts.

"That was just sad, man," Tucker ribs. "And I thought your early ghost fights were bad."

"I'd like to you do better against the 9th degree blackbelt," he grumbles.

"Don't fret, little brother. You'll improve with time," Jazz says as she rejoins them. "Though we'll have to do refreshers of all the previous levels first, given the amount of skill degradation I just saw. But with regular practice you'll back to your previous level and more in no time!"

"Uh. Refreshers?"

"Of course!"

"That seems a bit overkill just for sparring. Couldn't you just...wear a specter deflector or something? Then I can just not use karate."

Jazz, for the first time in a long time, levels him with a very serious look.

"You said that the reason Frostbite can't be the king instead is because he can't beat you in an all out fight. You told me the alternative."

She grabs him by the shoulders and stares into his eyes.

"Danny, Vlad already made a way to shut you away from your ghost powers. Frostbite may be unwilling to end you, and I don't think Vlad would. But you and I both know there are ghosts out there who would destroy you in a heartbeat for that power. And if Vlad has that kind of device, someone else could get one too. Ecto-weapons can give you a leg up if you get sealed away from your ghost powers, but you'll also need the skill to use them successfuly."

She lets go and steps back, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"Even with the ghost powers it's probably a good idea; the crown and ring might power you up but so did the exoskeleton. Clearly they aren’t the only power-ups out there so you can’t rely on strength alone. Skill could be the determining factor one day. And you already said you had fun," she smiles. "Come on little brother, give in to the karate side."

He grimaces.

"Didn't you say you were gonna make the royalty thing a non-issue for like three more years at least," he whines, slumping dramatically.

She raises a brow.

"A blackbelt isn't made in a day."

"Ugh, fine."

He's actually looking forward to it, but Jazz doesn't need to know that. He's duty-bound as a brother to be as annoyingly contrary about sibling bonding as possible, after all.

When Sam asks if they'll teach her and Tucker as well, Jazz is all too happy to include them - best not to have only one sparring partner, avoid forming bad habits and all that.

Both girls dutifully ignore Tucker's protests while they hash out a schedule. Danny pats his shoulder consolingly.

#dpxdc

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luimagines · 2 months

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Wild Card! Pick something on the need to write list ideas you might have!

You know what? I'm writing Part Two of Dragon! King! Time and no one can stop me. >:D

I'm writing this for me!!!

Masterlist

Part one

Content under the cut!

"Where are they?" A deep growl shakes the entirely of the castle. "WHERE ARE THEY?!"

"Your Majesty, please calm down before you destroy the castle." Warrior bite his lips, not at all excited for the conversation he is about to have.

"They are supposed to come every two weeks." The kings growls incessantly. "If I had marked them by now, I would at least have a hint at what happened to them. Are you sure they haven't showed up at the apartment?"

"Positive, sir." Warrior begins to feel a little sick to his stomach, and it's not because of the residue magic that's being leaked into the air by the Ancient King himself. "All the gifts you've had me drop off are... untouched."

"It's been over a month! Almost two! And not a single note or announcement-!"

"They're not home." Warrior stresses. "They-"

The king catches the slip up. His dietic magic flares through the atmosphere, setting all dragons in a 300 miles radius on edge. "Captain, are you aware of their whereabouts?"

"...Your Majesty, I beseech you to sit down first." Warrior growls, feeling his own magic begin to rise to the surface. Little puff of flame escape his mouth despite his best efforts. He knows he would never win in a fire against the King. He is the king for a reason. But that doesn't mean he's still not capable of dealing a lot of collateral damage in the process.

King Link of Kokiri Kingdom growls up a storm, cracking the windows of the throne room before begrudgingly sitting on his throne. "Proceed." 'With caution', need not be mentioned. "Where are they?"

Warrior steels his nerve, setting his palms on fire to lessen the magic build up in his body. "The hospital."

The glass windows explode from the magical flare. All objects lift off of the floor by three feet, Warrior included. And the King has shifted into his full dragon form, taking up the majority of the space in the room due to his massive size and power.

Warrior is dropped non to gently and wastes no time shifting to his full dragon form as well, breathing the hottest wall of fire he can to get the King's attention off of raging towards the nearest hospital. He chars the floor and tapestries on the process, but this is more important.

"You can't go!"

"watch me."

"You aren't supposed to reveal her identify to the public!" Warrior reminds him. "She works undercover for a start and we knew this work could potentially injure them."

"which hospital, captain?" The King hardly looks at him and very seriously begin to gauge which wall the castle needs the least. "i'm going to claim what's mine and never let anything else threaten them."

Warrior curses the instinctual possessiveness of dragons. It never seems to end well once a human gets involved. "You cannot barge in there like a raging bull in a china shop! You'll destroy any trust they have in you. They've just started getting comfortable in your presence."

That seems to calm down the king somewhat. Time growls but manages to contain his magic at once. "....i'd frighten them."

"Exactly." Warrior doesn't allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief just yet. But this is progress.

A very long and pregnant pause settles over the throne room. In a flash of light, the King returns to his half form, growling up a storm and not at all aware of the damage to the castle. "Blast it all!"

Warrior shifts to his human form and brushes off his uniform. He's aware that the people of the castle have been talking about the King's upsets. It wasn't so bad when you had missed the first visit. He was marginally upset, but understanding, expecting a message at some point to explain why you hadn't shown up. Two weeks later, with no correspondence, you missed the second one and King Time had all but sent out a search party for you.

By the third, he was about to go mad with drive to find you.

The kingdom has never seen their cool and collected leader in such a state. Many believe that you (despite not knowing much about you as a whole) have bewitched the King and had one of the most beings in the world in the palm of your hand.

Which... isn't entirely wrong, Warrior admits. But what they didn't know is that you would rather have anything else and are constantly rejecting the King's attempts to court you discreetly.

It hasn't stopped the King, mind you, hence the gifts, but Warrior has never seen a man more head over heels for the most oblivious person.

The King has yet to stop growling but he has calmed himself down to once again look at Warrior in the eye. "...What's their condition? How long have they been there?"

Warrior sighs. That's confidential information. But... he wouldn't have the position he has if he wasn't the best at his job. "They were checked into the emergency room two days after your last meeting with them. Emergency surgery was instantly approved and they have been in the hospital for the past month. I... believe that they should have been approved to return home about a three days ago, should my calculations be correct."

Magic flares up once more as the king's rage turns against Warrior. It is a frightening sight.

"YOU KNEW!?"

Warrior holds a hand up, ignoring how everything fiber in his being is raised by the shackles. "Because I knew that you would want to smother them all the same once I continue this report. If you would allow me to do so."

Magic continues to pulse through the air but the King hasn't returned to his full dragon form, so Warrior has hope. However, the King's growls shake Warrior to his core despite his grade A acting skills. "Proceed."

Warrior gulps. "They... were critically wounded, presumably on the job. I kept this information to this day to buy them time to both return home and heal."

"what wounded them?"

Warrior hesitates.

"captain link."

"Bullets, sir. They had three bullet wounds."

A ferocious roar shakes the shattered windows from their frames, raining the glass to the cracked floor below.

"WHO?!"

"I don't know..." Warrior admits softly. "We'll have to ask them when they return..."

Because you will return, right? To them? To King Link?

You were so full of life and spunk. There was no way that this would have kept you down for long. You were critical, yes, but even Warrior managed to garner that you would have a miraculous recovery. Warrior is willing to bet it was due to the King's residue magic of his claim. It is quite potent.

Time manages to make his way back to his throne and all but collapses into it. His hands are shaking. "....For all that is good and holy...."

Warrior finally swallows the thick cotton in his mouth. It's difficult. "Your majesty... We must allow them to come back on their own terms. I'm sure they will explain everything."

Time shakes his head. "I've... never felt strongly over another before. All those employed under my kingdom and certainly under my castle are mine... but they... I want them here. I want them safe. I want them to... I just want them near me. I want to mark them. It's getting harder and harder to keep myself in check."

"I can see that, sir." Warrior jokes flatly. Now is not the time. "We all can see that. With the exception of them."

"And they don't even accept the help I'm offering to their face!" Time laments. "The last time was infuriating! You heard it! Some upstairs neighbor- Some secret admirer! It's been me! But I can't say anything and I'm forced to keep my affections to myself."

Warrior bites his tongue and lets the King take the needed breather after nearly destroying the castle from the inside out.

"Tell me honestly, Link, how helpless am I?"

"Yes."

A beat passes and Time sighs, giving his long time friend a small smile. "Where I would be without you, Captain?"

"Destroying the one shot you have to genuine romance, your majesty." Warrior smiles gently in return.

Time bite his lip, discreetly pinching the bridge of his nose to wipe the tears. "Do you think they'll keep the schedule? If nothing had happened they would be due to visit in the next three days."

"I'm not sure, your majesty." Warrior says kindly. "But we can always hope and try to look after them from afar."

Those three days couldn't have passed fast enough.

King Time paced through the throne room with his tail lashing out wildly, unable to calm himself down enough to take a sit and be patient about this.

Warrior feared he would forget how to be gentle if the moment came to it. There was still work to be done, and reconstruction hadn't finished on the throne room when the appointment arrived but the workers were shooed away for the time being as the King waited.

Just when the King was about to give up and call it day to scheme his new plan to care for you, the clock struck the late hour.

And you came.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #dragon au #royal au #warrior is trying his best to run the kingdom #and be the kings right hand man #when the king himself is hanging on by a thread #he's about to *lose* it #both of them #I wonder if this story will ever dive into Warrior's background #doubt it

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deception-united · 5 months

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Hello, I love your blog. I'm writing a story about cheating and I was wondering how you write the person finding out and the couple breaking up making it clingy and annoying?

Hi, thanks for asking! Writing about cheating and the fallout can be emotionally intense, so it's important to approach it with sensitivity and realism. Though this is a very general mould, it would typically go something like this:

Build trust: Start by creating a strong foundation of trust and intimacy between the couple before the cheating occurs. This makes the betrayal more impactful.

Foreshadowing: You may want to drop subtle hints or foreshadow events that hint at the possibility of infidelity. This builds suspense and keeps readers engaged—though you may decide to go about it with a different approach and make it as much of a shock for the reader as it is for the character.

Discovery: The moment the person finds out about the cheating should be a pivotal and emotionally charged scene. Consider different ways they might discover the truth - catching the cheater in the act, finding incriminating evidence, or hearing about it from someone else.

Emotional reaction: Show the emotional turmoil of the person who's been cheated on. Their initial shock, disbelief, anger, and heartbreak should be vividly portrayed, whether through the narrative (if it's in their POV), their thoughts, actions, or dialogue.

Confrontation: The confrontation between the couple can be a powerful scene. Explore the dynamics of their relationship as they confront the betrayal and try to make sense of what happened. Make it intense and dramatic, with raw emotions pouring out. It's important to use dialogue that reflects the feelings of betrayal and hurt.

Escalation: As the truth comes out and emotions run high, the situation may escalate, leading to a heated argument or even a physical altercation. Be mindful of realistic consequences and character reactions.

Aftermath: Show the aftermath of the breakup: the emotional fallout for both parties involved, any collateral damage to friendships or family relationships, the process of healing and moving on (or not. Revenge and resentment is good, too), and how the experience changes the characters. This will add depth and carry the story forward.

Here are some tips to keep in mind:

Emphasise overreaction: Show one or both parties overreacting to the situation. This could involve exaggerated emotions, dramatic accusations, or unreasonable demands.

Focus on insecurities: Highlight the insecurities of the person who discovers the cheating. This could involve them constantly seeking reassurance or displaying jealousy even in unrelated situations.

Miscommunication: Introduce misunderstandings or misinterpretations that fuel the high-strung emotions present in the altercation. Perhaps the person who discovers the cheating misinterprets innocent actions as signs of further betrayal.

Obsessive behaviour: Show the person exhibiting obsessive behaviour. Namely, stalking.

Guilt-tripping: Have the person who discovers the cheating guilt-trip the other person, making them feel overly responsible for the situation and manipulating them emotionally. This could also work the other way around.

Introduce third parties: Include meddling friends or family members who exacerbate the situation by taking sides, spreading rumors, or encouraging certain behaviour.

Unhealthy dependence: You can depict the person who discovers the cheating as overly dependent on the relationship for their happiness and sense of self-worth, making the breakup even more devastating for them.

Exaggerate emotional rollercoaster: Showcase extreme mood swings, from intense anger and resentment to desperate pleas for reconciliation, creating a rollercoaster of emotions that can be exhausting for the other party.

Avoid rational dialogue: Keep the conversation between the couple filled with emotional outbursts and irrational accusations rather than rational discussions, preventing any resolution or closure.

Prolong the drama: Drag out the breakup process with unnecessary confrontations, repeated arguments, and attempts at reconciliation, making it feel drawn-out and tiresome for both characters and readers alike and making the resolution or aftermath all the more satisfying.

Again, all this depends on your story and characters, but I hope this is helpful nonetheless. Happy writing ❤

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#ask #writeblr #writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing resources #creative writing #character development #character writing #writing characters #writing relationships #writing couples #angst #writing angst #deception-united

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lyramundana · 9 months

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lyra lyra lyra because we talked about omegaverse –

wild, angry, possessive rut/heat sex between alpha!minho, alpha!reader/vivi and omega!jisung

i wanna see the two alphas fucking each other stupid and jisung getting off majorly on watching and being dragged in between them 😵‍💫

Lucky for you, I already imagined an omegaverse au with Vivi, so I have plenty to share~

My girl can only be an alpha, sorry but that's how it is. It's her nature, and that gives an extra reason of why she and Minho clash so much. They're both territorial, stubborn and pride themselves in their authority over others. Minho doesn't take it kindly when people try to touch what's his, and when Vivi wants something, she gets it at any cost. And in this case, Jisung is what she wants.

(this got way longer than anticipated, so beware)

ANGRY WOLVES

Warnings: Established polyamorous relationship, omegaverse, 2 alphas and 1 omega, angry sex, penetration, unprotected sex (no hat, no party), voyeurism, subtle PDA, third pov perspective, not entirely reliable narrator, spit, nipple stimulation (f! receiving) switch minho, switch oc! (they both try to dominate the other), sub! jisung, boy x boy action, some verbal degradation

It's not easy at first and it's obvious to everyone the two alphas only co-exist for Jisung's sake, since he claimed them both as his mates and they're way too possessive to let go of him. But they're not friends, Hell, they can barely spend five minutes in the same room without insulting and attacking each other. The tension is always thick with them around and people unconsciously drift away from them in fear for turning into "collateral damage".

It's all a competition with the two of them, specially when it comes to their beloved Omega. When heat/rut comes, that time of the year they spent weeks locked in a room and fucking Hannie until he faints, they push each other, trying to overdo the other in terms of hickeys and orgasms, seizing their bite marks so they're bigger than the other. At the end, Jisung's body is just a canvas covered in red, purple and yellowish bruises, with two big bite marks on his neck, proudly displayed. Luckily, this rivalry means Jisung is always twice as spoiled and cared for than anyone, and overall treated like a prince, provoking the envy from some Omegas.

At first sight, one would think the love only goes for Jisung and the other two hate each other. And to some extent, it is true. Even Jisung believed this, much to his sadness.

Until that night.

They were hanging out with their friends in their regular club. Dressed for the occasion, a couple of disagreements before leaving the house (guess from who), spicy compliments that definitely held a second meaning and sitting in their own corner with a table full of drinks and snacks. It was enjoyable.

They were mostly Jisung and Minho's friends, although Vivi got along with them just fine and was seemingly having fun chatting. Of course, her and Minho couldn't stay five minutes without bickering about something, but at least they weren't beating each other into pulps (Jisung already witnessed that, and as hot as it was, he didn't like them injured). Minho had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and Vivi at his other side, hand comfortable placed in his thigh.

Then, someone complained about a few empty bottles and Vivi offered to go and refill them herself. She stood up the table, "accidentally" kicking Minho out of her way, which earned a low growl from the older and a mocking chuckle from her part. While the rest kept talking, Jisung couldn't help but admire her backside as she retreated, the delicious skin exposed with the open cut in the damn back dress, ending right before her ass started.

He felt Minho's fingers twitching in his shoulders, and when he turned to look at him, he found something...weird to say the least. The alpha's eyes were fixed on Vivi's figure as she walked, eyes dark and focused with a feeling akin to anger, which wasn't surprising. But as Jisung looked closer, he also noticed a predatory glint in them. It reminded him of how Minho looked at him during his rut. A wolf watching his chosen prey, calculating the best moment to sink his fangs into helpless creature.

It was the first time Jisung saw that glance directed at someone else, and the last person he expected. That's what convinced him that he was just overanalyzing things. There was no way Minho looked at Vivi with anything remotely positive, at least as far as he knew. Yeah, he was most likely imagining things, but well, one could hope, right?

He doesn't recall how much timed passed, probably some minutes, but he was already light-headed when talking to Felix, both of them discussing the complexity of pigeons' lives and how fascinating they were. Minho had dissapeared to the bathroom for a moment, leaving him unsupervised, so really it was his fault. When he returned, he stared at the table with a frown.

-She hasn't returned yet? -he looked at his watch, then at Jisung's empty sides.

The boys looked around too.

-I don't think so.

-There's a shit ton of people, maybe she's struggling to get through. - Felix shrugged his shoulders. - And it's harder while carrying drinks.

Jisung worried a bit, but quickly recomposed. Knowing Vivi, she would growl at anyone that got in her way and step over them if necessary. She would be fine.

But for some reason, Minho only frowned deeper. He turned his head on all directions, looking almost frantically for something. Jisung noticed how his eyes got lighter and his sharp fangs started to grow.

He was activating his hunting senses. He usually did it when they were in big crowds and one of them accidentally strayed too far from the group, so he could find them quickly. But why would he activate them now? They were all okay, and Vivi would come back soon. Weird...

Then Changbin called their attention.

-Hold on, I see her. She's right there..oh, and she got my favourite! I love her!

Jisung turned at the direction and there she was, a tray filled with drinks in her hand and the other fixing her collar. She was talking to the bartender, who was casually leaning against the counter and explaining something. They were both smiling, acting like they knew each other.

Jisung could sense the guy was an alpha too, his pheromones were pretty damn recognizable. He exuded confidence and strenght, but unlike Minho, his aura felt softer and more aproachable at first sight.

He felt something churn in his chest at the sight of Vivi giggling at his comments and clearly in no hurry to return. He knew it was stupid. He carried her mark his neck, imprinted in his skin for the world to see. There should be no doubt who she wanted.

Before he could say anything, he heard Felix gasping quietly besides him and grab his arm. Then Jisung felt it too. A thick, low growl sounded next to him and made him want to hide under the table.

Minho had his fists clenched on his pants, eyes darker than ever and fixed on the bartender. He clicked his tongue with a humourless smile and walked towards them with long steps.

-Uh oh, that doesn't look good - Changbin muttered.

Jisung stared at his boyfriend, wary and confused. He had the exact same face when someone flirted with Jisung, or he flirted with them, or when he was in danger. A gaze that promised a very uncomfortable time to whoever poor soul was involved.

He didn't knew if it was for Vivi or the bartender this time, but one thing was clear: He needed to hear it himself, so he stood up quickly and aproached them, just enough to listen without being seen.

-Having fun, I see. - Minho stopped right in front of them. Vivi muttered some curses while the other alpha looked at him curiously.

-What do you want? -she barely concealed her annoyment.

He scoffed, crossing his arms at her with a forced grin.

-Seriously? So this is why you offered to refill the drinks, to flirt with a random guy? You're really something else.

-For fuck's sake, Minho, we're just having a normal conversation. Can't I do anything without your input?

-Normal converstation? You look ready to throw yourself at him. What is it? You stop being the centre of attention for five minutes and start acting like a whore? -he let out an humourless chuckle.

Jisung wanted to bang his head against the counter. What the hell? Couldn't he speak without putting his foot in his mouth? That was too much even for him.

Vivi clenched the tray, eyes darker too and full of murderous intent. Suddenly, the other alpha growled at him and pushed him back with a hand on his chest.

-Hey, back the fuck off, dude. We were just chatting, no need to be an asshole. - he shook his head. - No wonder she prefers my company tho, if this is what awaits her back there.

Vivi threw him an intense glare, making him confused, and Minho turned his head at him slowly. The tension turned so thick out of a sudden that Jisung felt he couldn't breathe. It seemed to be the same for the rest, since people started to move further from the three.

-The fuck did you say, dipshit? -his voice sounded scarily calm.

-Minho, that's enough. Leave. -she grabbed his arm anxiously, and he didn't pull back. Jisung didn't recall them touching each other unless it was to fight or accidental.

-I said that I understand she preferred to stay here, given your psycopathic attitude. Guys like you don't know how to treat alpha women like they deserve.

Minho laughed mockingly.

-Oh, let me guess, you do?

-Better than you, definitely. I would be more than glad to prove it. - he gave her a knowing look. Her eyes widened.

Everything happened in a flash, but Jisung remembers how Minho growled loudly and how he held the other alpha by the throat, pressing him against the very same counter. There were gasps and whispers around them.

His face was distorted to show his true side, the wolf side. Eyes twinkling in black, covering the entire pupil, and fangs fully out, showing them in a snarl. The other boy mirroring his stance, both glaring at each other and struggling. Their pheromones were so strong it got everyone who wasn't an alpha move away in fear, even Jisung felt the need to escape.

-Say that again, you son of a bitch. I dare you.

-Go fuck yourself. You barged here, acting like a dick, and expect me to bow down to you? She should give you the boot and be with someone at her level.

-She doesn't need anyone else. She knows better, so shut your mouth before I break it.

-Why? Because it hurts your ego?

-Because I'll fucking kill anyone she dares to leave me for.

Jisung can't hear anything after.

There's...so much he has to process. So much signals in just a few seconds.

"Leave me". Not him, or us. "Me".

Like she's actually his, not just a third-party or the "homewrecker". He speaks of the possibility of her leaving like it'll affect him too, beyond what Jisung would feel.

Then a sudden realization hits him: This isn't a first time thing.

Just how long has this been going on under his nose? How could he not see it?

And most importantly, what is this warm feeling growing inside his chest?

Vivi finally intervenes, stepping between them and yanking Minho backwards with harsh force. She bares her own fangs and flashing eyes the moment they try to growl at her, asserting her dominance too.

-I said enough. You're embarrassing yourselves. -she glares at Minho. - You just don't know when to stop, don't you? I can't so much breathe without you ruining it.

She walks away from them, towards the bathrooms hall, leaving the drinks behind. Minho doesn't waste a second before following her hurriedly, annoyed. Jisung does the same, if only to get them alone and ask them what the fuck was that.

There was a problem, however: Their legs were longer than his and he soon lost sight of them. He guided himself through the smells, until he found them again, both standing strangely close and speaking in angry voices. Minho's agressive pheromones were still coming off waves from his body, but Vivi didn't even blink, holding his piercing eyes with her usual defiance.

-I just can't believe you pulled that shit, Lee. God, how can you be so inmature?

-I'm sorry for interrupting your eye-fucking session with the guy.

-For fuck's sake, Minho, there wasn't any "fucking"! I just had him refill the bottles and then he started to talk to me. I wasn't going to be a rude bitch and push him off, like you do. -she scoffed. - Besides, he was being ten times nicer than you've ever been. It's rare to find such chemistry with another alpha male, you know? So forgive me for indulging him.

Minho doesn't like that comment, which it's obvious when he pushes her against a wall with a low growl. She stumbles at the shove but quickly recomposes herself, laying her weight against the wall with her arms crossed. Like having Minho caging her like that, faces inches away from hers, is completely normal. Jisung never understood her nonchalantly in these cases (he always crumbled when Minho acted like that) but her indifference was very hot too.

-Shut the fuck up. We both know that whiny bitch wouldn't have met your high standards. - he relaxes a bit.- And you're utterly incapable of looking at anyone but Jisung, which I respect.

-If you know that already, what was that about? I'll never betray him, so why-

-And me? What about me, uh? Would it be easier for you to betray me, then?

She looks bewildered at first, then wary, with some kind of understanding in her eyes.

-Minho...-she sighs.

-He was devouring you with his filthy eyes, like he had any right to do so. -he gritted his teeth, his fists clenching next to both sides of her head. - And you were letting him-shit, i can still smell him.

-I don't care if he wants me. I know where my place is, as you so kindly told him. -she replies acidly. - I'm not interested in fucking someone else. It's just, well, it felt nice to get along so well with a male alpha for once. To not be constantly "faring my teeth", expecting an attack or an insult to defend myself from. -she sighs, sounding more tired. - Simply talking to someone that understands me in ways others can't, with no violence.

Silence reigns in the hall, and Jisung feels his chest constrict at her words. He's so used to see her fighting Minho back, see her so confident and allmighty...he never considered she might felt a bit lonely. That ,maybe, she craved that sense of comradery with other alphas, that mutual understanding that only comes from those who are like you. Who share your same instincts and body functions.

Something Jisung couldn't give her, and Minho never tried to.

The older male seems thoughtful for a bit, his frown even softening a little. He breathes on her mouth.

-You don't need others for that, specially not men. -his voice is low, almost a whisper, and his eyes don't move from hers. - I'm right here.

His fingers move to brush a strand of hair from her face. Her shoulders tense.

-And you know -his nose brushes her ear as his fingers trace the veins of her neck. - how well we understand each other. -She doesn't move, just blinks at him.

Jisung can't.fucking.breathe.

What the fuck is this?!

He feels his skin getting warmer and warmer, his palms sweaty and his throat dry. It's like the world is spinning around him, deadly fast, and he can't keep up. He's receiving too many signals, too many messages in a too short time, and his half-drunk ass brain can't process them all.

"and you know how well understand each other"

It could've been sarcastic, that would've been Jisung's assumption, considering their relationship. But that was before he saw Minho's reaction to that bartender, before seeing Vivi touching him in a comforting gesture and Minho accepting it.

Before seeing this scene in front of him. This...whatever it's happening right now.

Jisung has seen those gazes in their eyes a handful of times, and it's always directed at him. The hunger and the heavy breathing, usually as they both wreck him to tears. In his most secret fantasies, he can pretend they look at each other like that too.

Maybe he's in a dream right now?

His eyes are fixed in them, barely blinking, in case he mixes a crucial second. The two dominant beasts keep staring into each other's eyes, enganging in a silent battle for who's weaker. However, the way their mouths brush, Minho's slow fingers and Vivi's mid-open lips, it feels less like an argument and more like..a prelude for something else.

Jisung feels the blood rush to his dick at a worrying speed. His pants get tighter and uncomfy as they continue to seize each other with that fucking bedroom eyes. He has no other definition.

He's faint when he sees Vivi's arm sliding up to Minho's neck, hugging him by the shoulders, as the other grabs his belt.

-Min..-she whispers, her lips brushing his as she speaks, and both men take deep, shaky breaths. She looks at him in wonder.

Then her mouth moves next to his ear, teeth nibbling the skin.

-A whore, you said?

And her knee collides against Minho's very delicate zone, inmediatly making him jump away from her. Even Jisung flinches in ghost pain, shocked.

Holy shit, what was that about?!

While Minho groans in the floor, face all scrunched up and furrowed eyebrows, Vivi crouchs next to him and snarls.

-Call me a whore again and I'll kick them all the way to your guts -she spits out.- Fucking asshole.

She stood up and left the hall hurriedly with angry steps, the clicking of her heels resonating in the now quiet, unmoving hall.

Jisung stood in the dark, his croch now completely soft again, and frozen. Minho muttering curses as he stood up caught his attention and he eventually ran to him, pretending he didn't witness anything.

-Hyung, what happened? I lost you guys in the crowd, and when I finally find you I see her leaving with smoke coming out her nose and you here. What the hell? -he grabs him by his arms, pushing him up and worriedly checking between his legs. He hopes there's not an irremedable damage...

Minho growls at her mention and hastily brushes Jisung off, now cursing loudly.

-Fucking bitch -he readjusted his shirt. - She and her twisted little games. Ohh, when I get my hands on her again, she better pray..

-The only one who's going to pray it's you. -Minho stared at him, confused. -What? You think I didn't see what you did to that poor man? I'm pissed, Lee Minho. You ruined our night with your shit again, so pray that the couch is specially comfy and warm tonight.

The alpha's eyes widen almost comically. Almost, because Jisung can't find it in himself to see anything comically now.

Before he tries to explain himself, Jisung leaves to follow Vivi's trail. Definitely not thinking about that weird, intense display from earlier. Yep, definitely not remembering. It was probably a misunderstanding from the alcohol, yeah.

That said, he couldn't help but pay a bit more attention to his partners since that night.

Initially nothing seemed different. The usual bickering, the backhanded compliments, the pranks aimed to hurt rather than laugh, the shattered furniture from their fights, the noise complaints from neighbours. There was nothing about them that could lead anyone to think they felt anything other than hatred for each other. Jisung started to assume he imagined everything back in the club, that the alcohol messed up with this senses.

But there were these tiny details, rare and hard to notice unless you were looking closely, that triggered his observational skills. Like when he caught them once in the kitchen, heatily arguing about what they should eat that day. It wasn't anything strange...except for Minho's slender fingers playing with the belt loop of her jeans as she spoke, and her own hands grasping the front of his sweater.

Or how insistent was Minho about undoing her bra strings with her shirts on, as another antic to annoy her. It wasn't weird for him to use all the tricks in his book to piss her off, but Jisung finally realized how often he relied on that particular one. And most curiously, how Vivi's reactions seemed more amused than irritated. Or the way she always picked on when Minho's shirt collar was off and took it upon herself to fix it, even if grumpily and still commenting how horrible he looked.

When they had sex, everything was a competition and Jisung the playground. They focused mostly on driving his mind to new limits with pleasure and leave him shaking in the bed, trying to outdo the other in who could pull more orgasms out of the omega, or who got the best reactions from him. This tended to include attacking each other in the duration of it, which meant biting and scratching the other until the skin was covered in bruises and even blood sometimes. In the haze of his overstimulated mind, Jisung struggled to remember the exact moments when this happened, and it's not like he didn't leave his own share of marks on them too, so he couldn't be sure which was his and theirs.

Regardless, he couldn't help but question their fixation for always bruising each other, one way or another. In and outside the bedroom.

Truly, it was only a matter of time that the truth was exposed for Jisung. And in a quite interesting way.

He was out for some emergency shopping for his partners' upcoming rut, leaving them at home fighting for the TV remote control. Just when he was paying for the stuff, he got a message for one of his neighbours and sighed tiredly. They only had each other's numbers to talk about important matters about the apartment building...or to complain to Jisung about the noise from his flat, usually caused by his partners.

"Mr Han, I understand that, as young people, you tend to have certain physical needs and enjoy satiating them with your lovers, but could you please do it a bit more quietly? My ears would very much appreciate it. Please and thank you"

Jisung could perfectly imagine her passive agressive voice as she said that. He chuckled at it, shaking his head and closing the phone.

But wait, what? What "intimate activities" she was talking about? He was out of the house and as far he was concerned, Minho and Vivi were the only ones there.

"They must be breaking stuff again. Jeez" It happened more often that he'd like. They never held back on their "disagreements" and they ended up ruining furniture more than once. Broken glass, thrown down chairs, cracks in the walls, etc.

He told them he'll take longer to go back home, since he also wanted to get some coffee first, but he decided to return inmediatly this time, leaving the drinks behind. He was sick of replacing his stuff because of their lack of self-control, and he also refused to suffer another embarrasing lecture from the landlord.

As Jisung went up the stairs to his apartment, he distinguished the noises of bodies repeteadly colliding against the wall and things falling down the ground, either dragged or kicked out of the way. He wouldn't be susprised they were actually throwing stuff at each other.

When he got to the door, however, he had a strange feeling in his chest. He looked back at all those small details he picked on between them for the past weeks, and that very particular interaction in the club that he still wasn't totally sure it happened.

His hand moved the doorknob slowly, finding what appeared the aftermath of a battle inside, and he felt his body pressure go down abruptly. Chairs thrown to the floor, furniture moved out of place, collisions on the wall, the usual...along with a pair of shorts and a crumpled shirt. Both clothes seemingly tore open, like they were ripped off crudely.

But that wasn't the only reason his heart suddenly stopped, choking him. No. It was the loud, angry growls coming from the bedroom, followed by some occasional moans.

With trembling legs, he walked in that direction, slowly and quietly to not be detected. On the way, he found a belt, Minho's pants and the crop top Vivi had been wearing before he Jisung left. Or what was left of them, now turned into shreds of cloth.

A familiar angry voice sounded from the bedroom.

-Watch it, asshole, this is one of my favourite p-ah! -she stopped halfway to moan.

-Shut it. You shouldn't be wearing anything, then I wouldn't have to tear it off. - Minho. He sounded breathless, urgent even, but Jisung knew every note of his voice to feel his smirk as he talked.

They spoke in rushed tones, clashing against something as they did. She chuckled.

-Please, still with excuses? You're a fucking animal. Even if I walked around naked, you'll lunge at me to sink your-

Minho growled and Jisung distinctively heard another thud, harder than the previous one.

-You really can't keep your mouth shut, right? -his voice sounds muffled by something. - Not even now.

She let out a pained moan, making Jisung's jeans even tighter around his dick.

-Mhm, if only there was something to occupy my mouth with~ -she giggled breathlessly. This time it was Minho who laughed, with that raspy voice of his from when he's very turned on.

-You're a fucking slut, I always knew. -he sighed, followed by a serie of wet, smooching sounds.

Jisung felt his head bobbling to the side and his feet melting on the floor. His fingers twitched as his member pulsed inside his boxers, fighting the urge of grasp it in his hand and aliviate himself.

He still wasn't 100% sure his brain wasn't making this up, after all.

-And yet your dick is throbbing inside this slut. -her voice becomes a sultry whisper.

Minho groaned, and Jisung's hand pushed the door slowly before he could think.

And what he saw made his knees almost give up on him.

Vivi's sweaty, bruised body pressed against the wall, the dresser digging into her lower back. She had fingerprints on her hips, dark and purple and painfully looking. Her bra was ripped from one side, exposing her right boob, while the other remained half-covered by the part that wasn't obviously mistreated. Her panties, or what was left of them, hanging from her thigh. Cuts and teeth marks painted her skin, some even bleeding a bit, but she didn't seem the slighest of bothered by it, smirking down at the equally sweaty and bruised male holding her up as he mouthed down at her neck hungrily.

Minho had his own skin decorated with red, angry lines on his back left by her sharp nails and bite marks all over his body. A hand keeping a vice grip under her knee as the other grabbed her by the waist, leaving his fingertips imprinted on her in dark, purple lines by how harshly he was grabbing her. His hips were trapped between her legs, grinding against her with slow but strong movements, as he trapped her against him tightly, almost strongly enough to cut her breath.

Jisung feels his throat go dry at the visual confirmation that, indeed, Minho's thick cock is throbbing inside Vivi's cunt. He watches as it pushes in and all the way out of her wet, inviting hole, her delicious essence dripping to the floor and enveloping Minho's hard member in a slippery sheen. Jisung licked his lips instinctively at the image, eager and craving to taste both of his favourite treats together.

Then it dawns him, within the fog of horniness and desire, that holy shit they're actually doing it, they're fucking each other what the hell-

Vivi lets out a gasp and pulls Minho's head back from her neck by grabbing his hair. He groans in protest, but has a satisfied grin on his face.

-You son of a bitch, you seriously tried to mark me?? -she seethes, her worlds trembling in anger and desire, her lips brushing his.

His grin grows more sinister.

-Like you wouldn't like me doing it, you slut. -he nuzzles her collarbone, letting his sharp teeth caress her skin.

She growls and pushes herself off the wall, making Minho's stumbling backwards and towards the bed. He quickly grabs her thighs to keep her up, before breathing sharply when she nibbles her earlobe, licking it after.

-God, I'm going to fucking destroy you. -he groans, and his voice sounds so deep and raspy it makes Jisung's painfully hard cock start leaking in his pants. Whenever that voice comes out of Minho, it means Jisung is going to get fucked mercilessly for the alpha's sole pleasure, and his body has the reminders of it impregnated in his cells.

In a swipe movement, Minho turned her around and fell into the bed with her still in his arms, caging her body against the matress and devouring her mouth, ripping off the rest of her already destroyed underwear. A messy fight for dominance begins, like everything that goes on between them, with tongues and spit and wet sounds along with the skin colliding against each other. She finishes getting rid of his boxers, and Jisung knew he couldn't get any harder.

His hand was squeezing the head of his cock before his brain could process it was happening, pants undone and boxers right on his knees, hastly discarded just enought to let his hand in. His eyes rolled back white at the so needed relief, biting his lip painfully to keep a high-pitched moan inside his mouth, along with his growing drool.

A loud slap echoed in the room, followed by a whine and some thrashing in the sheets.

-Aw, there she is. Are you going to make those adorable sounds I like so much? -he grinned against her lips, a string of saliva connecting them. He traced her mouth with enraptured attention as the other travelled slowly from her ass to her inner thighs. She groaned with a pout, hitting him with her knee to push him, making him tsk and sigh dramatically. -I guess not now.

-Stop talking and fuck me already. It's all you're good for. -her tone was exactly the same kind of annoyed as when she spoke to him usually, but there was also this underlayed impatience and desesperation in it that told a different story. That, and the way her legs wrapped around his waist to lock him in place.

He chuckled, almost delighted.

-So you admit my dick is good enough? -he nibbled her lips. -Looks like we're progressing.

She groaned and tried to slap him. He caught her wrist mid-air, his cheeky smile fading off and replaced by a furious scowl. He grabbed both of her hands and pressed them to both sides of her head.

-Ungrateful, insolent bitch. You don't deserve my dick inside you. I should've-

She shifted her weight to her legs and switched positions, trapping him underneath her with his waist still between her knees. Before he could verbalize his surprise, she grabbed his throat.

-Minho -she sighed as her nails drew some blood in his neck. He groaned.- Shut the fuck for once, would you?

And she proceeds to ride him at an inhuman speed.

He started to let raspy ah's as she picked up her pace, throwing his head back as a a sheen of sweat became visible on his forehead and broad chest, which was also covered in bloody scratches. She moaned in pure satisfaction, burying her head on his shoulders and biting. She continued to fuck herself on him, keeping him inmovilized from his hips and down.

-Look at you now, so c-compliant and cute. This is-fuck!-is how you should be everyday.

-I swear to God, Vivi, let me-oh shit-let me move or else.

-Or what?

That was it. Jisung knew at that moment that porn was ruined for him forever. Nothing, not even his most recurrent fantasies, would ever compare to this absolute wonder his eyes were witnessing. He tried to match the tempo of his own strokes to that of Vivi's hips as Minho's dick kept dissapearing inside her, his pre-cum already falling in drops to the floor and staining his jeans. He bite back a moan at the image, eyes growing wet at the overwhelming emotions and pleasure.

Then, Minho growled and wrapped an arm around her back, while the other sneaked in between their bodies. She whined in protest, fighting to break off his grip, until her eyes widened and she let out a sinful mewl. He chuckled darkly, and Jisung held his breath when he realized the older alpha's fingers rubbing her clit.

-Oh? Where did all that bravery go, kitty? You were so high up there..

-Oh my god, finally! Don't stop, Minho. Don't you fucking dare to stop, or I'll rip out your throa-ah!

Her head fell on the pillows beside his head, gripping his shoulders as she turned into a moaning mess, but Minho wasn't much better, letting out a series of curses and groans himself. Vivi threw a choked scream as her legs trembled, her wetness dripping unto Minho's hand and his cock. He followed shortly after, biting her neck hard and closing his eyes shut, while his release leaked from her cunt and got mixed with her own essence. Jisung came seconds later, gagging himself with his shirt to not be heard and even letting a single tear run down his cheek.

In the process, the vice grip of her legs softened and allowed Minho to move, which he didn't waste a second for as he wrapped his arms around her and switched positions again, this time with her underneath. He grabbed her wrists with one hand, the other still occupied with her reddened clit.

Jisung couldn't fucking believe it. Already? Didn't they have any refraction period or something? There was no way they recovered that fast!

But apparently they were. She hugged his hips with her legs, fixing her posture while pushing him closer to her, until their fronts were glued together. The realization that they never let Minho's dick separate from her pussy not even few inches made Jisung's head burn.

Worse? He could see the outline of the alpha's still hard cock in her fucking belly, as he rocked into her again.

She sleazed her right leg towards his shoulder and he rushed to held it in place. His other han gripped her hips viciously, leaving more fingerprints shaped bruises in her skin, but she didn't seem to notice. He slowed down his thrusts to shift his posture and the new angle brought another delicious mewl out of her.

-Fuck yeah, t-there it is. Am I-ah!-hitting it right, princess?

-Holy shit, yes! Rig-hnng-right there, Min. Keep going!

The bed started to move wildly with them, the wood creaking getting louder and louder, and the constant banging of the frame against the wall almost mutting their own noises. Jisung didn't dare to think what the neighbour might be thinking now. Maybe she was punching the door to complain and they didn't hear it.

Unfortunately, Jisung couldn't bring himself to give a single fuck about her comfortability or her poor, conservative ears at the moment.

He was already spent, still half-floating in his post-nut haze. His dick couldn't get hard again, not that quick at least, so he remained watching them, memorizing every single angle and sound they made together.

They stopped talking altogether, not even to argue. They fucked each other like they were fighting, trying to get the upper hand over the other, a race for dominance and authority that left nothing but chaos behind. Jisung loved the show, but he knew his Omega body wouldn't resist the agressive, blood-thirsty handling they had going on.

The female alpha's sharp nails got entangled on Minho's hair and pulled viciously, her other hand scratching his lower back, getting near his butt. Suddenly, she slapped them.

Minho gasped at the sting, slowing down his movements for a bit, only to let out a deep growl and squeeze her even harder against his body, not even a wheeze of air fitting between them. His fangs made contact with her shoulders and sunk them in, making her whine and fidget in his hold. His hands begin to play with her nipples, which Jisung just noticed had teeth mark around it (when did that happen??), twisting them and even mouthing them, letting his spit fall into the skin.

-I hate you so much -she panted.

-Yeah? You do? -he was just as breathless,

-You can't even imagine. -she bite his neck, sucking a big bruise in it, along with the many others she left.

-Aw, princess. -their lips brushed. -I hate you more.

Their lips collided with hunger, and Jisung's cock started to grow interested again. Tongues sucking on each other and joining the cacophony of wet sounds filling the bedroom.

Of course, she wouldn't be the alpha Jisung adored if she gave up without a fight. She sunk her nails right on Minho's buttcheeks, using them as leverage to seize his thrusts, and licked his ear. He panted, biting her nipples harder and breathing sharply through the nose. Then she pushed both of them, until they were both sitting with her on top of his lap. Her hands grasped his wrists, pressing them behind him as she took control over the situation again. He tried to argue, but his voice died quickly when her own fangs caught the skin of his neck again, right where his pulse was.

Her hips kept rutting against his, too fast for Jisung to even think, making Minho moan and sigh in delight.

-W-wait, Vivi, shit, slow d-down for fuck's sake! I'm...

His whole body freezed suddenly, his back going all rigid and his eyes closed shut. He buried his nose into her chest, breathing in deeply, as his hips began to shook violently and spurts of white started to drip down to the sheets. Again.

He panted heavily, blinking to focus again. But she didn't stop. She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and let out a high-pitched moan.

-A little more, please, I-oh my god- I'm almost-

She screamed, her body trembling too as she cames, a gush of wetness soaking Minho's pelvis and the sheets underneath. He held her firmly against him, their foreheads pressed together. They had drops of sweat running down their skin, hair plastered on their faces, lips all wet and mistreated. Minho's hand traced imaginary lines on her waist, and she lazily counted the hickeys around his skin.

They looked like an erotic painting, one Jisung could have only imagined before today, and that he wanted to capture in his brain for the rest of his life.

They laid back on the bed, facing each other, and their sexes still connected because obviously.

Out of sudden, Vivi started to giggle.

-What now, brat? -Minho asked annoyed, his voice raspy with post-orgasm exhaustion. Curiously, his face didn't seem as bothered as he sounded.

-Nothing~ -he raised his eyebrows at her, and she relented. - Just remembering how you actually ended up ruining my clothes, so now you'll have to buy me everything new.

He scoffed.

-Please, I was joking. Like hell I'll spend my money on you. -he rubbed his eyes.- I don't owe you shit.

-Oh, screw you, Minho. -she attempted to move away, his cock slipping out of her, but he grabbed her quickly and groaned.

-What are you doing? Stay right the fuck here. -he said almost petulantly, hugging her by the waist and adjusting her posture so his softening (it better be softening) member didn't get out.

-Are we sure Jisung is the clingy one here? Jeez -she had a small smile that Minho couldn't see from his angle.

The room reeked of sex, sweat and intense alpha pheromones. In short, the kind of domestic smell Jisung would gladly get home to every single day for the rest of his life.

-Well, ignoring the few accidentally broken stuff, we didn't do so bad this time, right? -she said, playing with Minho's fingers mindlessly.

-Yeah, I think-

He was interrupted by a loud noise: The bed frame collapsing beneath them and the posts shattering completely.

Jisung felt his eye twitch, arousal slowly fading in favour of anger.

Silence reigned in the room for a moment.

-You better drop that fucking grin off before I slap it, Lee Minho.

-What? I am not!

-I literally feel your mouth in my neck, I know what you're doing!

-Just say you're obsessed with my mouth and be done with it.

She let out a loud, exasperated sigh, making him chuckle more. He kissed the back of her earlobe, the softest gesture Jisung saw of him directed to someone else. She leaned back into it, like it was normal.

-This is nice. -she whispered to herself, but both men heard.

-What do you mean? -he asked in the same tone, his lips tracing the back of her throat. She looked startled.

-Nothing, forget it.

-Princess...

She looked away, dropping his fingers to fidget with the sheets instead.

-This, what we're doing now, it feels nice. -she traced imaginary lines in the matress. -It feels like you don't hate me that much, and I like it.

Now the anger moves to let the heartbreak in. Jisung has the urge to run to her and smooch her face all over, anything to not hear that sad voice from her ever again.

He looks at Minho, and his heart clenches when he sees the same sadness in his eyes, focused on her.

-You idiot -he muttered, shaking his head. -You big, incredible idiot. -he caged her with his body and kissed the bite mark on her neck, one Jisung hadn't seen before.- Can you not see it?

-I'm yours already.

Taglist (my fellow minsung girlies): @skzms @2chopsticks2eyes @linlinaert @queenmea604 @hanjisunglover @hanjibug @hyunsvngs @minsungisvreal @k-krissten @roseykat @mal-lunar-28 @thightswideforhanin (please tell me if i forgot someone, i'm really bad at tagging)

#mutual asks #minsung x reader #poly minsung #requests #skz scenarios #skz omegaverse #lee know/han jisung x reader #alpha! lee know #omega! han jisung #female alpha! reader

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y-rhywbeth2 · 2 months

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I am pondering the possibility of a wizard of thay oc, so do you have any interesting facts about them that probably didn’t make it into the wikia? (Especially anything pertaining to Bane worship 👉🏼👈🏼 sorry not sorry)

EDIT: Shit, I read in a rush and missed the 'Thay' part. I'll get back to you when I have time.

For generic wizard things for anybody who needs generic wizard shit, since I already typed it:

Random Torilian wizard things, that may or may not be interesting, mostly off the top of my head:

Like sorcerers, psionic classes, and bards, wizards have the ability to wield magic because of innate ability. On Toril the ability to wield arcane magic is called having 'The Gift.'

You generally get a heads-up you've got it, even if you don't realise it at the time, by Mystra manifesting in your dreams during the deities' usual ad-space airtime between your regular dreams.

You probably needed to seek out another wizard to teach you how to actually use it though, who will possibly be part of some official organisation or possibly a secret unofficial one, and the responsibilities owed by apprentice to master and vice versa will usually be agreed upon via formal legally binding contract. Universities are common in Lantan and Halruaa, but outside of Silverymoon (the most prestigious), and small ones in Waterdeep, Sembia, Chessenta, the Vilhon Reach, Impiltur and Tethyr, formal schools for magic aren't available. Evermeet has a university, but unless you're an elf, a harper or a half-elf with a well connected elven parent that's not an option. Also necromancy is forbidden in that case.

Wizards, as occultists and those with education and power available only to a select few are prone to be, are also very haughty, paranoid bastards who don't like to share their toys. The Church of Azuth and the Church of Mystra tend to have to prod/whack them with metaphorical sticks to make them function as a viable academic community.

'The trade of magic or lore will always take place very gingerly, in one of two ways: private deals between members (kept secret even from other members), and formal deals (known to other members and regulated by intricate, written guild rules that have been tested and refined and complained about and refined again for decades or longer). Because of suspicion and paranoia, private deals are rare without a master-apprentice relationship being involved, or some kind of agreement that involves hostages or collateral or third-party scrutinizers.'

Your apprenticeship will mostly involve chores, your teacher may be an asshole, and they are likely to hide things from you or keep your education incomplete. In light of this, followers of Azuth and Mystra redistribute lore and spells all over the place, hiding them in places where apprentices and people who are barred from learning may find them. They also have to play mediator when mages do exchange lore and spells and stuff, because mages don't trust each other to deal fairly.

Self-taught mages are called hedge-wizards.

Illusionists have their own secret language; ruathlek.

Mages usually have their own mage sigils, unique to themselves, which serve as signatures and turn up in some spells (explosive runes, for example).

There are mage fairs; if there's a big enough population of spellcasters in a region then the mages will gather and do their annual socialising, contract writing, squabbling and etc. Duelling, markets for magical items, and competitions are also held. (Sorcerers attending will be looked down upon).

Outside of cosmopolitan areas like Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep, or nations like Calimshan and Halruaa, being a mage is going to make people at least a bit wary of you in a negative way. Also depending on where you are (Cormyr, Amn) you might need a license to practice magic. Or else.)

Robes (as opposed to something like the regular tunic and trousers worn by everyone else) are not mandatory unless they're some kind of uniform, and wearing them may earn you an eyeroll - especially in the Dales. Familiars are not actually that common.

Pretty much all arcane spellcasters make offerings to Mystra, regardless of who else they worship and whether they personally care for her faith or not; She's the Weave; you use the Weave; pay your taxes, just in case. Likewise a mage is liable to pray to the other gods who are involved with knowledge and magic when certain aspects come up. Off the top of my head: Azuth (patron of wizards), Savras (divination), Selûne (more divination; particularly popular with female diviners) Leira (illusion), Velsharoon (necromancy), Myrkul (more necromancy), Oghma (knowledge). You want to use your arcane power and knowledge to control the world around you and rule? You're also going to worship Bane, most likely. Other deities may be involved if you're not human.

A wizard on Toril can expect the Church of Mystra to be on their back about wielding magic sensibly, using it sparingly, not hording it and trying to keep knowledge and use of the magic from being widely available to the average joe*, and not scaring the normies by being an idiot/evil bastard with it. * That doesn't mean teaching every irresponsible twelve year old fireball, or giving a horrified crowd a detailed explanation of black necromancy. Demonstrate how it can be useful and non-destructive to them. But, while Mystrans will probably make Mystra's judgements sound more severe then they actually are to try and make you behave, you can ignore them; Mystra will only cut you off from the Weave when you do really stupid shit that threatens mass destruction. Think Karsus-tier.

Wizard-related things regarding Bane:

It's already on my blog that wizards make up a chunk of Bane's clergy, originally forming the reformist faction after Fzoul reinterpreted the doctrine to mean 'support wannabe tyrants and spread Bane's power through them instead of doing it directly yourself,' decided the High Imperceptor and the orthodoxy were corrupt and fucked off to make the Zhentarim a Banite faction - enter Manshoon, Toril's resident evil wizard posterboys and all around problem for centuries. There are still wizards who want to be tyrants, playing up the evil advisor stereotype and such.

Banite wizards are usually more loyal to the power and aid Bane can offer than the deity himself (Manshoon is described as 'cleaving' to Mystra and offering Bane lip service; the arcane clergy largely ditched Bane for Cyric when the first god died, while the clerics usually stuck with Bane; etc).

We've had groups like the Zhent reformers and the Brotherhood of the Blackhand, who enjoyed stealing and hoarding political power and magical artefacts and such. You can probably get yourself initiated into an evil wizard community that sacrifices babies to Bane every tenday as an apprentice. The contract will be stupidly long and full of clauses in the standard lawful evil fashion, and the chores will suck though.

Obviously Bane appeals to your standard hubristic evil mage who wants power and to control the flow of knowledge and horde magic to keep themself in power. Bane's standard avatar is a wizard, so he's very into that aspect of it | Examples: Cleric 36/Fighter 35/Mage 30/Thief 10 (2e) vs Fighter 15/Blackguard 10/Cleric 10/Wizard 10/Rogue 20 (3e).

Bane has his own liches, but Baneliches were clerics so not really applicable.

#There was some other stuff I forgot what it was #There is a sourcebook giving examples of wizards spellbooks and how they can differ but I don't have time to look for it #lore stuff #long post

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jpitha · 3 months

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Between the Black and Grey 51

First / Previous / Next

Eternity was a large ship, but it was still dwarfed by the Gren station. With a puff of thrusters, and a clang of hulls, the Dreadnought made contact.

The boarding party stood a few meters from the sally port. The shock troops mirror polished, black armored pressure suits stood in opposition to Fen's Empress armor. Hers was pure white with gold and blue accents, almost like porcelain.

"I must reiterate, Empress, you don't need to-" The commander started to speak.

"Regardless, I am coming. This was my home. I know this place better than any of your maps. Fen's body language was hidden by her armored pressure suit and solid white helmet, but the commander could hear the warning in her tone. She shifted her battle rifle slightly.

"O-of course, Empress. Still, it is our responsibility to protect you. You will be safest aboard Eternity."

"Your responsibilities are to capture Tam'itarr alive and ensure the survival of your team. Leave me to me."

The commander saluted, and said nothing.

Fen turned towards the sally port. All of her Dreadnoughts had them in a few strategic locations. Ships had missiles, slug throwers, and exawatt laser batteries, but sometimes they had to board ships and capture them. It looked like a regular airlock, except the outer door was replaced by high speed cutters. The ship would make physical contact with the object to be boarded, and the cutters would force an opening, allowing boarders to attack in person.

After a few minutes of cutting, the light over the port started flashing yellow. "Get ready," the commander shouted. "Remember, keep collateral damage to a minimum, do not go wild. We're here to capture someone, not take over the station. Guard the Empress."

The light turned green, there was a loud buzz of an alarm, and the sally port snapped open. Everyone's rifles snapped up and they entered the station.

The captain had chosen their location well. They were attached midway down the station, in a random corridor. Fen had been slightly worried that they would open up right inside one of the common areas and would be under attack immediately, but she had nothing to worry about.

It was… odd. Fen wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. After exiting the hall, Fen was able to orient herself easily. Down this way, turn here, around this pillar, through this archway, past the warning light that has been blinking her entire life without ever being repaired.

She was home.

Only, it wasn't home. Not really. With no Ma-ren, this place was only a pile of memories and hurt. The sooner they captured Tam'itarr and left, the better. Fen shook her head slightly inside her helmet, making sure the helmet didn't move. She tried to shake herself of the memories.

Fen led the boarding party walked through the station, weapons at the ready but not actively pointing at anyone, but the few people they came across… didn't care. People barely looked up, let alone running away or attacking. The only people who bothered to look at them were children. As soon as they did, their parents shooed them back into their domiciles. The third time it happened, Fen felt a little silly and had everyone lower their weapons. They all straightened up and began to walk more normally.

"Empress… do you know what's going on?" The commander said, looking around. "This wasn't the reception I was expecting."

"No, commander, I don't know either. Many people on the station had joked that they had seen 'everything' and that nothing would surprise them, but I didn't think they would take it this far." Fen's faceless white helmet turned towards the people sitting in cafes who were pointedly not looking at them. She toggled her comm. "Weapons, please confirm you disabled their reactors."

"Empress, we have confirmed strikes on three of the five energy sources that we determined to be reactors. Additionally, we were not fired upon while boarding."

"It sure doesn't look like their reactors are down, Lieutenant. Lights are on, there are no alarms, everyone is enjoying their afternoon."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Empress? You're sure? Everything is up and running?"

Fen tisked. "Why would I lie to you, Lieutenant? It's almost as if you didn't strike any of the reactors at all."

"W-We will reconfirm our shots, Empress. We will contact you in moments."

The line disconnected and Fen stopped walking. "I don't like this."

"Yes, Empress. it feels like a trap."

"Weapons ready." Everyone snapped their rifles back to their shoulders and spread into a defensive pattern. Meanwhile, Fen strode up to a young Gren man sitting at a cafe, reading a pad. "You. What is going on?"

"Hmm?" He lifted his head and looked at Fen. His expression tried to remain the same, but she saw his mouthparts twitch slightly before he spoke. "Nothing is going on, it's a normal day."

"Oh for the love of-" Fen cleared her helmet and locked eyes with the Gren. "W̴͈̃h̸̐ͅá̶̞t̷͇̽ ̷̪͌ì̵̬s̶̪̀ ̵̢͛g̴̹̿o̶͓͒ï̷̪n̵͚͆g̶͕̍ ̴͌͜o̴̲͂n̶̨̛?̴͇̇"

"We were ordered to ignore you." He answered immediately, almost without thinking. Once he realized what he said, he reared back, frightened.

"Who ordered it?"

He stood up from his chair quickly, knocking it over. He was backing away from her gaze, trying to escape. "Tam'itarr ordered it! He runs the place now!" Still reversing the Gren tripped over a table set and turned around and took off down the hall, running. One of the soldiers readied his rifle.

"No, don't shoot him. There's no point. He told me what I needed to know anyway."

It felt like someone was pushing her over. That was the thing she remembered first. Fen had no idea what getting shot was like, but it really felt like someone took a sharp shove to her shoulder. Her suit squealed at her that she was taking fire, and to get to cover. Fire? She's being shot at? Her second thought was of Ma-ren. Was this how it felt for her?

Fen fell to the deck with a thud. The armor had absorbed the majority of the shot, but there was still bruising and pain. While on the ground, there was another shot to her helmet. This one was much louder, with a metallic thwack sound that came from behind her. They absolutely were shooting at her! The nerve! Fen rolled onto her back to try and get up, and she was shot again. The suit was getting quite cross with her, with the internal screens lighting up with GET TO COVER in red and AVOID GETTING SHOT. Hmph. That seemed a little sarcastic.

With a rush of noise, her perception of the world sped up. The commander was leaning down and clinked his helmet to hers, enabling the suit-to-suit. "Empress! Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm all right. The suit - even though it's sarcastic - is doing well. Have we determined the source of the attack?"

"No, it's from multiple locations. We need to get to cover!" He helped her up, and everyone encircled her. Crouching low, below them, they started moving as one towards the restaurant that Gren was eating at before the attack. Fen could hear the shots ricocheting off the strong Imperial armor, but if they brought out any heavier weapons, they'd start taking casualties.

"Empress! Empress!" It was the Lieutenant from weapons. "We were duped! The energy sources are gone, the reactors weren't there. It's a trap, you need to get off the station!"

"Yes Lieutenant, we were able to figure that out on our own." Fen's vision blurred slightly. That shot to her head had made her brain vibrate some. "Please fire upon the station. I would like for them to stop shooting me."

"Uh… Empress? With all due respect…"

"Yes Lieutenant, spit it out, I am under fire right now and don't really have time for protocol."

"Why don't you just Voice them and make them stop shooting at you?"

Oh for Ancestors sake. "Yes, thank you Lieutenant. That's an excellent idea."

Fen stood up straight from the huddle of her soldiers and toggled her external speaker.

Č̶̨̚ě̸̬a̵̓͜ṣ̷͊͝ẻ̵̪ ̷͇̼́͋F̴͎̒í̸̺̌r̵̡͇̈́̋e̶̡̤̋̿!̵̧̥̇!̸͔͝

The shots stopped immediately. There was a commotion coming from some hidden corners. Probably attackers trying to figure out what is happening.

S̴̺̒h̵̺̃ȏ̷͙w̴̘̄ ̸͎͌ỳ̵̰ö̷͙́ȗ̶̡r̷͚̂s̵̠̕e̸̬̿l̶̛͜v̵̻͋ȇ̴̩s̶͓͊ ̷̋ͅr̴͉͐i̷̦͒g̵̡̒h̶͚̅t̸̻͋ ̵̫͌n̷͙̐ò̵͎w̶̩̑.̶̠͋

About a dozen people walked into the hall from three locations, one behind, one parallel and one in front of them. It was a motley crew of mostly Gren with a few K'laxi and some Sefigans with them. All were using modified human rifles and submachine guns. Old, poorly maintained ones, modified for other sapient use.

"Where's Tam'itarr?" Fen said.

"He's holed up somewhere up towards the top. He has a group of those old K'laxi refugees with him." One of the Gren said. He was shorter than most of the other Gren, with a dark fur flecked with gray.

As Fen's eyes passed over the group, she came across a familiar face. A face that was burned into her memory. A K'laxi with half of an ear notched, with dark brown fur and a smug grin.

It was him. The one who shot Ma-ren.

"You!" She pointed, her finger shaking with rage. C̴̦͗ǒ̴̰m̷̻͐e̷̘̾ ̵̜̚h̷͔̀e̸̠͋ŕ̶̫ȇ̷͕.̶̨̀

The K'laxi stepped forward, walking robotically. Trying to fight the imperial order always made people look like they were fighting their own bodies. He stopped a meter away from Fen.

"You are with Tam'itarr's crew."

He nodded once.

Fen cleared her helmet so that he could see her face. His eyes went wide with recognition, but he scowled and said nothing.

"You know me." It wasn't a question.

"You were one of the people chasing after me and Ma-ren when we were trying to escape. To try and get to Spyglass?"

He didn't move.

A̶̢̡̨̠̙͎̭̰͊͒ͅÑ̷͔̠͓̩̲̫̫̲͖̒̍̀̒̃̀̚̚ͅS̵̢̟̦͓̘̫̯̉͋͠ͅẄ̸̢̡̧̻̣̝̣̘E̸̘͙̝͔̝̮͕̭̗͎͆̈́̎̂͠͝R̷̨̧̢̘͎̠̻̠͓̮̎̓̄̀̇̏̅͝͝͠ ̷̧̡̞̦̺̣͖̤͊̂̓͋̓M̵̨̭͓̮̺̥̜̥̺̤̐̿͛͊̈́̿̂͝Y̴̗̳̗͆ ̵̝͈̣̔̑̔͝Q̸̙͊̊U̷͓͈͎̎͒Ȩ̶̭͖̥̰̳̻̗̘̭͒̒S̴̹̓͑͗͋́͑͆̂Ṯ̴̻̖̀͒̾̄͌̐̋͝͠Ḭ̴̧͕̜̬̖̫̊̿̈́̈́̾̆̅O̷̢͇̗̳̜͎̒̍̾̅̾́͘Ņ̸̻͖̯͈̙̍̀̓̐͘͜͠ͅŞ̴̥̰͖̹̮̓͆͆̉̃͑̈́̈̕̕ she shouted.

Her Voice reverberated through the open area. It felt like the whole station went silent at her shout. His answer was practically a whisper, all his bravado gone.

"Yes."

"You shot Ma-ren?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I thought you would turn to go after her, and then I could shoot you too. But that damned other human you were with fended us off and you two escaped."

Fen stood straight, and nodded once. She reached onto the pad on the wrist of her suit and opened the helmet. With a hiss of pressure, the front of her helmet opened like a flower and folded down, becoming like a collar. Her head was in the open air of the station, at risk. The commander opened his mouth to tell her to put her helmet back on, but she turned to him, and her face made him close his mouth again.

She turned back to the K'laxi.

S̵̝̭͒͆t̵͉͕͌o̷̰̣̓p̵̧̹̊ ̵̩̎͝b̷̧͋̓r̵̪̈́e̸̦̔ȧ̴̠ṯ̷̢͝h̸̠̼́͌i̴͉͎̇͌n̶͚̳̈́g̶̯͇̒͠.̸̞̠͆͆

He looked up at her, puzzled. He went to take a breath to speak, and found that he couldn't. Looking at her in surprise, he tried again. His muscles wouldn't work to pull air into his lungs. He started to panic and turned to his compatriots. Fen locked eyes with them, and they said and did nothing. He started clutching at his throat, his fur puffed out, his mouth opening and closing, his tail vibrating furiously.

It sook quite a while for him to die.

When it was over, she touched her pad without looking at it, and the helmed unfolded and re-formed over her head. She waited until it was opaque again, and her face was obscured before she cried.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray

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aliusfrater · 3 months

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thinking about the allegory of the patriarchal structure of supernatural again (what's fucking new) but specifically about the idea of lucifer's (an archangel's) cage and what it represents, as a symbol, between sam and dean and their respective 'roles' in supernatural.

1) sam, who 'let lucifer out of his cage' and the means by which he had done so was considered more damning by the narrative than the actual act because of what it represented for his relationship with dean: dean's lack of control over sam and sam's rejection of his role as The Baby Brother being perceived as a betrayal to dean. sam having to grapple with quite literally damning the world as well as ruining his relationship with his brother (and the narrative putting both these facts on equal moral footing because dean is (or is supposed to be) sam's world) despite the fact that the entire situation was orchestrated that way since before sam was ever conceived; as an egg in his mother's body his autonomy was already taken from him. sam is responsible for putting lucifer back into the cage and that, too, is damning for him and results in a violation of his autonomy twice-fold (possession and soullessness) but there's also the role of adam and how due to the fact that the patriarchal narrative has left no place for him he is damned in a different way — he's given no agency and no one comes to/is able to save him.

2) in his struggle with michael, dean becomes the cage. his body is the cage, his body is used as the ultimate weapon of established autonomy. dean is the structure. in a vast difference from that of sam having to save a world that was not meant to be saved, that was ultimately meant to be collateral, for the saving sake of his relationship with dean, a relationship that was meant to be thematic collateral for a celestial war beyond them, dean had the ability to give michael consent to save other members of this patriarchal structure rather than as an ultimate act of servitude. the violation of his body was not inherent but still became fact. there was no third party structure that became a kind of thematic architecture, his body and mind transformed into one and became the ultimate weapon of agency and autonomy

like just the idea itself that sam has to jump into one while dean is/becomes one

#sam winchester #dean winchester #se referat

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rosanna-writer · 2 months

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we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (23/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4k

ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11-20 | ch. 21 - i wouldn't marry me either | ch. 22 - burn all the files, desert all your past lives | ch. 23 - i've still got love for you

Some text in this chapter is lifted directly from ACOTAR book one.

I am also over the moon and insanely honored to share that there is now ART OF THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FIC!!!!! It's by the love of my life Amnevitah, and you can go make heart eyes at it and tell her she's wonderful over here on her tumblr (warning that it's mildly NSFW).

Read on AO3 or you can find the twenty-third chapter below the readmore.

It was nearly midnight when I made my way to Nesta's bedroom in a borrowed nightgown, late enough that the servants were gone and Elain was sound asleep. I knocked on the door once, and she ushered me inside without a word.

Like the rest of the manor, Nesta's bedroom was full of furniture fit for a palace and utterly devoid of personal touches. It might as well have been a guest room.

I hovered near the door and watched Nesta open a hidden compartment in the writing desk near the window. She pulled something out and placed it on a side table. I stepped closer to get a better look.

A chunk of wood. The edges were rough, as if it had been ripped from something. I started to ask her where it had come from, but when I spotted the tangle of vines I'd painted on it, I understood.

"I had to watch as Father and Elain went from sobbing hysterics into nothing. I had to listen to them talk about how lucky it was for you to be taken to some made-up aunt’s house, how some winter wind had shattered our door. And I thought I’d gone mad—but every time I did, I would look at that painted part of the table, then at the claw marks farther down, and know it wasn’t in my head. So tell me everything and leave none of it out," Nesta said quietly, sinking down into the chair by the desk.

My heart broke to think what she'd gone through—what Tamlin had put her through. His lies to me might have been in service of saving his people, but there was no reason for my sister's sanity to be collateral damage. Tamlin had paid my father off, then washed his hands of the matter without bothering to ensure that his glamour had worked.

It was sloppy and thoughtless, and not for the first time, I wondered how many people ultimately would have died if I'd stayed in the Spring Court a moment longer.

I sat on the bed, tucking my feet under me, and started at the beginning. The very beginning, fifty years ago when Rhys had gone to that damned party and Amarantha had taken over.

I'd barely gotten a few words out when Nesta was already interrupting. "Is your High Lord too stupid to employ poison-testers?"

"I…I don't think any of them do, actually."

"It seems Prythian is ruled by idiots, then. Perhaps that explains why this Rhysand married you."

"You know nothing about what Rhys has been though," I hissed, clenching my teeth so I didn't yell the words and wake up Elain.

Nesta waved a hand, an elegant, dismissive gesture. "Then continue."

So I did. And to Nesta's credit, she listened intently, her lips pressed together in a thin line, as I described the curse, my arrival in Prythian, and those early days in the Spring Court.

Somehow, it calmed something within me to tell the whole tale again now that I knew everything. I wasn't used to having a confidant, and I couldn't remember a time before this that speaking to Nesta had felt like a lightening a burden.

It was strange, but not unwelcome.

I braced myself when I started to describe my first meeting with Rhys on Calanmai. Nesta had once sneered at me for rutting in the barn with Isaac Hale—I was sure she'd have some choice words about a mating frenzy that had taken place in a cave.

But she merely furrowed her brow and said, "Your marriage was….arranged, then? By the stag?"

I nearly snapped and told her no—I'd specifically told Rhys not to marry me, after all. And Nesta knew he wasn't my husband. But…she'd never feel the pull of a mating bond for herself, and the concept was completely foreign to her. Perhaps this was the way to make her understand.

"By the Mother herself. The stag merely…cleared our path to each other. I'm not sure what would have happened if it didn't, but I think it probably saved us quite a lot of heartbreak, in the end."

"That's such an odd way to speak about a man you've been shackled to against your will," she said, shaking her head.

The Inner Circle had also been horrified when they'd realized I'd accepted the bond without knowing what I was doing. If even Nesta was worried about it…perhaps there was something wrong with me for not being more distressed. But even though I'd had to go Under the Mountain for Rhys, I still felt profoundly lucky that everything I could possibly want had just been dropped into my lap on Calanmai.

I shrugged. "There's no reason to be upset when I would have chosen him for myself anyway." That was the truth at the center of everything.

There was a flicker of understanding, and—if I wasn't mistaken—relief in Nesta's eyes. "And I take it he feels the same?"

"Yes."

"Good." There was an edge to her voice, and I wondered what she would have said if my answer had been no.

There was still so much to tell her, so I continued, describing my arrival at the Night Court—though I didn't mention Velaris, merely said that Rhys had directed me to a warded home. Nesta didn't ask about the tattoo the magic had given me, just scowled at my left hand. She said nothing about my immortality either, instead interrogating me about the Inner Circle and their ranks and roles and relations to Rhys.

They were, perhaps, the sort of questions I should have asked on that first day. But unlike me, Nesta knew how to get the lay of a land in a noble court and assess her place in it.

If my eldest sister were dropped in the Court of Nightmares, I had no doubt she'd be running it within a day.

I hadn't spoken about Under the Mountain at length with anyone but Rhys before that night, and getting the words out under Nesta's uncompromising steel glare was difficult. My sister and I weren't linked through mating bond and shared experience. My voice shook, and at points I felt faintly sick, but I managed to tell her everything.

Even with Rhys…I'd needed to hold back. My own few weeks Under the Mountain paled in comparison to his decades there alone, and I knew on some level, even though I'd never voiced it aloud, that he'd had it worse than me. Without even realizing it, I'd been carrying around a prickly sort of guilt over that.

Once, I would have spent several days with a paintbrush in hand until I'd gotten those feelings out, but since I could barely stand to look at a canvas anymore, it all had been festering inside of me.

So to my immense embarrassment, I cried in front of Nesta.

For once, she didn't say anything harsh, just wordlessly handed me a handkerchief. I didn't mind—it would be strange for her to coddle me. Instead, she pretended nothing was amiss as I wiped at my eyes and finished the rest of the story, all the way through my trip to Illyria and the Weaver's cottage and the attacks on the temples.

At the end of it, Nesta merely said, "This is all the more reason you shouldn't come back here again."

I could see her logic, but that didn't make it any less a kick in the teeth. "Elain and Father deserve proper goodbyes."

"It's too much of a risk," she said, eyes flashing dangerously. It would be ugly if I tried to fight her on this; Nesta, who had once put herself in front of Elain and left me to the beast that broke into our cabin, would always protect our middle sister, even if that meant casting me aside.

I should have been used to that by now, but it still hurt.

"Then at least allow the sentries around the manor to stay. There are far too many fae who would wish us harm, and their numbers will only increase if war breaks out like we fear."

"As long as the sentries keep their distance."

They would, but of course Nesta had no reason to be sure of that. A thought struck me. "They answer to Cassian, Rhys's general. I could send him to meet with you and discuss the specifics, if that would ease your mind."

I expected Nesta to balk at interacting with any more faeries, but she asked, "Does he listen to orders?"

"He will if you give them. My position as Lady of Night makes you and Elain something akin to princesses in Prythian." Mor had explained it to me once, though I wasn't interested enough to remember the details about ranks and noble titles. It would matter to Nesta, though.

She nodded once, then stared down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. "Thank you," she said, a bit more softly, "and for what it's worth, this is easier, knowing you've gotten everything you deserve. After that beast took you away, it's a relief, truly, to know that Rhysand loves you and is keeping you safe."

I stilled. It was beyond a doubt the kindest thing Nesta had ever said to me. I hadn't thought she'd cared at all what had become of me in Prythian.

"Elain said—said that you tried to visit me," I said, my throat so tight I barely got the words out.

"I got to the Wall. I couldn't find a way through."

“You trekked two days there and two days back—through the winter woods?”

“I hired that mercenary from town to bring me a week after you were taken. With the money from your pelt. She was the only one who seemed like she would believe me.”

“You did that—for me?” Rhys was the only person in the world that I'd truly believed would bother, and no matter how much he loved me, a mating bond made everything different. Mor had tried to soften the truth on my first day in the Night Court, but even she had admitted the Inner Circle was duty-bound to protect their High Lord's mate, and I'd only become their friend later.

"What Tamlin did to you—it wasn't right. None of it was right."

Nesta finally met my gaze, and for once, the fire in her blue-grey eyes wasn't intended to burn me. We weren't drowning anymore—the lifeline of her anger was unnecessary now, and she knew it. In her darkened bedroom in a too-clean manor, we'd found just enough safety that she'd let me know she cared.

Underneath it all, Nesta cared, more deeply and loyally than I'd been able to comprehend.

There were no words for that. I launched myself at her, and Nesta went stiff in my arms as I embraced her. She didn't hug me back, just…patted my upper back awkwardly after a moment. I didn't mind—that was downright affectionate from her.

I pulled away and said, "If I'm unable to return here, will— will I at least be able to write?"

"Is there a way to ensure your correspondence stays private?"

I caught the meaning behind that—Nesta was confident in her own ability to keep a secret, but she knew too little about my own situation to be sure I could do the same. It wouldn't have crossed my mind—after all, I hadn't even learned to read until Rhys ensured I was taught—but my sister had been expected to marry a prince one day. She'd been trained for a life where sensitive letters falling into the wrong hands could cause a reputation-ruining scandal.

She was right to ask, though, so I explained how paper spelled to vanish was used to pass messages across Prythian. And by some miracle…she agreed to let me leave some with her.

"Rhys can deliver it tonight, if that's alright," I said; I'd feel better knowing it was in her hands when I left. Nesta nodded her assent. "Give me a moment to ask him, then."

Ignoring the grimace Nesta made as my gaze went distant, I gave the gentlest tug on the bond I could. I was still met with a wave of blind protectbitemaimkill panic the moment Rhys's shields dropped. He hadn't expected to hear from me until morning.

All is well, I said, reaching for the beast. I could feel its hackles rising in the back of my mind.

With a mental hand, I scratched a sensitive spot on its chin, right under the maw with its rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth, the thing that threatened to gobble up sleeping fae in their nightmares. Its eyes closed at my touch, and it purred like an affectionate cat.

Nothing's amiss. I just have a favor to ask, I added.

Anything. You know that, he said. I was dimly aware of a spiral of anxiety—some sort of fear that I didn't know that. Stroking the beast's flank like it was a nervous horse, I kicked the worry away.

If it's not too much trouble, could you please bring us some of the enchanted paper you use for correspondence? I'd like to make sure Nesta has a way to contact me directly.

Talons shifted into fingers that gently tucked an errant strand of my hair behind my ear. There's no such thing as too much trouble where you're concerned. Call for me again when you want me there.

Thank you. Just as I'd kicked away his concern, I felt his claw shred my lingering discomfort at asking him to do something on my behalf.

His mind began to pull away from mine, but he stopped halfway. Are you sure you're alright? The emotions on your side of the bond seem to be…churning.

I hesitated. There was no point in lying, but I was tempted to say we'd talk about it later. I didn't want him to worry any further, either. For now, I could give Rhys the bare minimum. I learned that Nesta tried to go to the Wall and bring me back after I was taken. She wasn't able to get through, though.

An image flashed across the bond before Rhys could stop it—a female with his pointed ears, violet eyes, and massive wingspan. She was standing on one of the footbridges that spanned the Sidra, her head thrown back in raucous laughter and the lights of the Rainbow sparkling behind her. A happy memory, but at the same time, it felt like looking at a painful, howling void.

Another younger sister whose elder sibling hadn't been able to save her. But unlike me, she didn't have a mate who'd eventually swooped in and brought her to safety.

I'll see you soon, Rhys said, then dropped his shields before I had a chance to respond.

Nesta quickly pinned her hair up and changed into a gown, but I didn't bother. Regardless, it gave Rhys time to pass through the Wall again. When she assured me she was ready, I gave another light tug on the bond.

Rhys appeared with nothing more than a gust of night-kissed wind so gentle it barely made the curtains flutter. He held a small, black-and-silver box in one hand, identical to one I'd seen holding blank paper on his desk in the House of Wind. He'd had the good sense to hide his wings, and the leash on his power was tighter than I'd ever felt it.

Even when he subdued himself, Rhys still felt too enormous and otherworldly for this side of the Wall. Between the night still clinging to him and the width of his obnoxiously broad shoulders, he seemed to take up the whole room.

And yet, as if he were an entirely normal person and none of the current circumstances were bizarre, he pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek and said, "Hello, Feyre darling."

To her credit, Nesta didn't flinch. Or hiss at him. Which already meant this was going better than I'd anticipated.

Before either of them could make this worse, I said, "This is my sister, Nesta Archeron. Nesta, this is my mate, Rhysand."

To my shock Rhys bent at the waist and bowed—actually bowed—to my sister. Polite and graceful, his upbringing as a crown prince on full display and all signs of the Illyrian warrior hidden.

Nesta's face was frozen in a mask of cold indifference. "No surname?" she said, and those two words were enough to let a nasty implication hang in the air—that Rhys wasn't pedigreed, despite being a High Lord.

His mother had been a seamstress, after all. If I didn't know better, I would have thought Nesta could smell that on him.

Rhys didn't blink. "Archeron. Or at least, it will be when we're ready to make the mating bond public knowledge."

It was a small miracle I caught myself before my mouth gaped open in surprise; he hadn't told me he'd intended to take my name. A glimmer of wicked amusement and a twinge of pride floated down the bond towards me.

Nesta, however, just cocked her head like she was sizing up an opponent, almost exactly the way Cassian did in the training ring. "I won't be mocked in my own home. You can leave."

"I'd rather be known as Feyre's mate than my father's son," Rhys said, picking invisible lint off his tunic in a gesture that was clearly calculated to look as nonchalant as possible. "I'm not mocking you. Feyre is an infinitely better person than he ever was."

Nesta went quiet. I wondered if it was as strange for her as it was for me to hear someone call me good and mean it. Rhys glanced at me, his expression melting into something soft for a moment, and Nesta tracked his movement like a hawk.

Before the silence stretched long enough to become awkward, Rhys held the box of stationery out to her and added, "This is for you."

Nesta flicked her hand towards the writing desk, an imperiousness gesture of a queen directing a servant. "Top drawer on the left," she said. An order, not a request.

She was testing him, I realized. Or had thrown down a gauntlet. Maybe both. Whatever was happening between Nesta and Rhys was some sort of courtier bullshit I was too feral to understand. Rhys did as she said, and I wasn't sure if that meant he'd lost or conceded something.

Regardless, there was no reason for Rhys to linger—and I suspected my sister would bite his head off if he tried. He said something blandly polite to Nesta about it being a pleasure to finally meet her, kissed my cheek again, and winnowed away.

When he was gone, I looked at Nesta expectantly and braced myself for whatever cutting remark was coming. She was already grimacing as if he'd tracked mud all over the floor.

My chest squeezed. Not that I needed anyone's approval, but as mates, Rhys's and my coupling had been had been quite literally blessed by the Mother herself. And I'd spent years shrugging off Nesta's scornful comments about damn near every choice I made.

I shouldn't have cared what she thought. But…for whatever reason, in this matter, I did.

"You two are so besotted with each other, it's disgusting," Nesta spat. It was congratulations enough.

I smiled. "You aren't the first person to say that about us."

There wasn't much else to discuss after that. Nesta and I sat in silence together as we burned the chunk of wood from the table in the fireplace in her bedroom. I felt something settle between us as the last piece of the cabin that she'd been holding onto was reduced to ash.

I returned to my room and managed a few hours of sleep before slipping out of the manor before dawn without saying goodbye. Before bed, Elain had said to bring the paints that she'd bought for me back to Aunt Ripleigh's, so I took them with and left her the first thank you note I'd ever managed to write by myself.

It was easier to go without facing either of my sisters again.

When I met Rhys in the woods, I threw myself at him so forcefully that he stumbled back a few steps and nearly hit a tree. "I missed you too," he said, hooking an arm under my knees as he scooped me up to fly.

Something about being in the mortal lands again—or if I was truly honest, being around my family again—had reawakened that stupid, childish part of me that wanted to cry out until I was fussed over. A bit embarrassed, I pressed my face to his chest and wished I could scent him like a faerie. But instead, all I could smell was the laundry soap we both used. Maybe that was better than nothing.

"It was a long night," I said, and he pressed a kiss to my temple.

The world faded to smoke and shadow, and then I felt that peculiar sense of being torn in two for the space of a heartbeat as we passed through the Wall. Rhys could have winnowed us again, but he continued flying above the sea for a while, probably to get the practice in to strengthen his wings.

Being cradled, his warmth and nearness, the rhythm of wingbeats, the salt air…it soothed me. Dawn was breaking, turning the sky and the sea golden. Rhys, painfully beautiful as always, was positively glowing in the light; his skin was returning to a healthy brown, the unnatural paleness from years underground almost gone. I wanted to paint it.

"With Nesta, why were you so…" I said, then trailed off, unsure of the right word. Rhys's whole demeanor had been subdued, but there had been more to it than just that. Now that I thought about it… "You didn't smirk once. That's not like you."

His face was solemn. "If my sister had inadvertently accepted a mating bond, I'd expect her mate to have his tail between his legs when she brought him home to meet me."

Once, I would have scoffed at the idea Nesta cared at all about how a man or male treated me. But she'd tried to save me. If Rhys had seemed at all like a threat, then…Nesta would have faced down the Lord of Nightmares to get me back.

I still didn't quite know what to make of that.

"Would you have tried to get my father's blessing if he'd been there?"

"Cauldron, no. You're your own person and make your own choices." He sounded affronted I'd even suggest it.

"Then why be so restrained around Nesta?"

"I don't like being thought of as an ill-mannered brute."

I could imagine how often insults like that had been flung at him for being Illyrian, probably from people just as adept as sneering down their noses as Nesta was. And yet, even though I knew Rhys well, it was still a bit strange to hear from a faerie when so many of his kind considered humans to be half-wild beasts below their notice.

Strange, but…not unwelcome.

"For what it's worth, you're not all ill-mannered brute at all," I said, smiling, "but you are a prick, though."

Rhys's wicked grin was the only warning before he gripped me tighter and tilted us into a barrel roll so swift and dizzying that I would have emptied the contents of my stomach if I'd eaten. I screamed, but the wind tore the words away.

He laughed, and it was impossible to snap an irritated response when the joy was so plain on his face. We settled into a smooth glide.

"We need to winnow the rest of the way back soon," he said once the roaring wind died down. "Cassian wants to spar, and if you're late for training, Az will ensure you pay for it."

I wouldn't expect anything less. We faded into the morning mist, and when the Night Court materialized around us, I'd never been happier to be home again.

#feysand #feyre archeron #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home #this cheeky little update before Elucien Week is for the girlies who love Rhys AND Nesta <3

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petnews2day · 7 months

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Hiscox launched new sidecar, first cat bond fund and raised $140m for 2024

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itti-bitti-yibbi · 1 month

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'Scuse me imma just put drop these here-

I have. SO MANY doodles of these guys, these are just the traditional ones lol. Most of my doodles are digital, I'll get around to grabbing and posting them eventually.

Allow me to chatter under the cut (SPOILERS), if you please

That first one I actually did while a guest was on hold with a third party at work (we were waiting for them to call me to fix an issue). We waited on them for literally an hour!

I am on season 3 now, and having a Time. That is for sure. Jon is being. Not that smart. Bless his heart. Of course Jude was gonna burn you if you shook her hand. You already knew that but you did it anyway!

I need to shake him. Like a maraca. Mabe that'll knock some sense back into him. ALSO. Assistants recording statements!! I like! That!

I think it's cool to hear how differently they get into it, like Tim couldn't get into it enough to get through one, which at this point doesn't honestly surprise me, he is not having any of this rn.

When Martin reads them, he gets very into it! Emulating them emotion in the statement kinda like when Jon gets into it, (I think that Martin's readings are the most similar to Jon's so far). And his little "sorry for the change in tone bit", I just. He's so Much. To me.

Melanie gets hit hard by the statement when she reads it. You can hear how shaken up she is by it while she's reading, he voice kinda trembles. I really do feel bad for her, she didn't really know what she was getting herself into, and now she's trapped. The others tried to warn her.

AND. THE FUCKING. AUGH. COLLATERAL. ELIAS YOU FUCKER. POOR BASHIRA. Daisy and Bashira are something. I like them.

And. The way that Tim got sick trying to leave. Grabgrabgrabgrabgrab. Guess Jon would have gotten ill if he hadn't read the statments that were sent to him? That and his other investigations.

AND. GEORGIE AND THE ADMIRAL. I LOVE THEM. I like Georgie a lot, she seems cool to me. And of course I adore a good Kitty. Admiral beloved.

The calliope is spookin me, but also I am excited for Jon to get into more situations lmao. This man is the most unfortunate fellow you could meet.

I have been taking a tiny break and it's late, so my commentary is not that profound, lmao. I am enjoying it a good deal, though. And I have been irritating the shit out of my siblings recommending it to them.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #jonmartin #jonathan sims tma #jonathan sims the archivist #tma #tma s3 #tma season 3 spoilers #tma jmart #martin blackwood #martin k blackwood #martin tma #my art #doodles #my doodles

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silvyavan · 5 months

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ELF ARC SHITSHOW IS AN EXAMPLE OF DIVISIONISM POLITICS: THE POST

Okay so it's getting too chummy around here so I'm gonna throw a molotov.

This is gonna make a bunch of elf fans mad BUT I will take the bullet because I feel MANY missed the point of the Elf vs Clover conflict and how Zagred's bitchass plays into the politics of it all, and how the incident is an example of "divide and conquer" political infighting strategy.

Elves and Nobles fighting is essentially Big Mana on Big Mana Warcrimes and Zagred is acting as the political instigator to wipe out BOTH parties.

The story very clearly says that the elves are victims of genocide by the ruling class but even then it was seen in the elf tribe that there WAS suspicion and racism as well (Patri and Vetto). Licht, the only elf with critical thinking, literally says the elves also have some fear of the humans, similar to how the humans fear the elves.

On top of that, their idea of vengeance was to possess the descendants of those who killed them and wipe everyone out which would have only continued the cycle of abuse. They quite literally possessed the nobles who ARE the descendants, and they could've very well just gone along with the Sephiroth ritual (I'm genuinely convinced the sephiroth is a reverse engineered qlipoth and clover kingdom of antiquity did the 1st qlipoth, but that's that's different story).

The point of the arc isn't "the elves should have been the ruling people of Clover especially with big mana and wispy white people appearances",

It's actually literally "crimes and massacres made out of fear and greed will end up turning history into a flat circle, with two powerful parties inciting violence that affects bystanders and common people as collateral, gaining nothing and only looking themselves into a cycle of endless violence".

The very point of Black Clover is a story about underdogs and those who aren't blessed. Massive mana doesn't make you a good person and being the victim of a hate crime doesn't make you a saint. Massive mana is also not a get out of jail card. They very much state several times they plan to genocide the humans like they did with them, regardless of mana or status. We're not even sure if the elves who were freed from the malice showed regret of their actions and attack.

Mana not being a reflection of a person is the point of the story, and even if you were hit first, that doesn't mean you get to mass murder the entire race of the offender, involved or not involved.

Was the wedding massacre deserved? Fuck no, these people just wanted to get married, but Tetia and Lumiere were NOT thinking this shit through of "fuck now, explain to the inlaws later".

Does that mean Patri was correct? ALSO NO, because we literally get told that Zagred can't outright manipulate and add malice into people, he can only incentivise something, like he did with the Clover royals, and how he did with elves.

The racism of elves and the genocide made by Clover royalty was very much nuanced. This has layers.

Zagred benefited the mutual racial tensions as a third party inciting the massacre. This man was using divide and conquer political infighting strats because he wanted to get rid of BOTH the Clover royals of the past and the Elves.

Hell, even Zagred's reincarnation spell corrupting some of the elves into violence is a metaphor for inciting violence not on the people directly involved, but on the whole demographic, only increasing the infighting between two demographics while he pushes whatever buttons he needs to weaken BOTH parties to take advantage of them. This man literally SAYS it!!! He was the fuckass that sent the elves to the present!!! He started this shit!!!

He straight up confesses he tricked them into wrecking the vengeance with mass murder, he does not give a shit, he sees them as stepping stones and stepping stones alone.

He literally admits that he incited humans into the genocide, using their desire for mana and Licht and Tetia's Union as a call to action, based on greed and fear. Even some of the elves know that. This man says it how it is. He used Tetia as a way to incite fear into the humans and their mana prowess as a way to invite greed, while using the prior friction between species in the elves as a cause to incite hatred into them and the tragedy as a way to promote the massacre of humans 500 years later.

His plan is victims of abuse and genocide into violence not just against the direct descendants of the tragedy, but the common people who had NO say or even action in the matter. Even Drowa, Gauche's elf counterpart, can admit that the common people of the present are not the same as the people who massacred them.

Say what you will, but Zagred was making MASSIVE POLITICAL CHESS MOVES like this. Man literally almost succeeded too. The fact that nobody questioned the malice they had against humans outside of a few means that they believed the massacre against them would've been justified. Even Raia was low-key supporting the mass murder DESPITE KNOWING IT WAS UNFOUNDED.

Because he wanted Licht to be reincarnated. Even thought Licht didn't want to start violence between the humans and the elves! Literally everyone is trying to get Licht back, without thinking what he would've wanted or done himself. Raia fucken says he didn't want to diminish their thirst for revenge. Dude knew this was all bullshit and still let them go on to make a possible genocide.

I feel like when you reread the series, like actually READ and DIGEST what they're saying and thinking, you're getting a lot more nuance on the topics at hand. Zagred is essentially the Conservatives pitting minorities against other minorities in an attempt to wipe out both. Smh, I need to reread this whole thing in bulk before the new chapter drops.

#black clover #black clover manga #black clover meta #silv writes #black clover zagred #black clover patri

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jason-todd-is-a-real-mood · 4 months

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Raphael and his consort having a silly beef when the whole tadpole thing is happening. So now while Raphael is trying hard to get a deal with tav, his consort also tries to get their own deal with them and it’s now up to whom will get the crown first. Tav being a collateral dommage in a lover’s quarell.

Tav thinks it’s strange that someone is trying so hard to fuck the devil. They assume the consort is like a devil hunter or something but they don’t know they’re actually fucking the devil quite literally in their day to day life.

Until they see Harleep in the consort form who explain : « yeah they are married you know. Loooove each other. Only sleep with each other too so when they want a third party here I am but also when they are not speaking to each other i take the other form and voila. Oh yeah they try to sabotage the other’s plans every century or so. You are just caught in the middle. Wanna fuck now ?»

Also the consort is asmodeus kid and Raphael and them are just sour nepo babies.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #bgiii #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate raphael #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x reader #baldur’s gate raphael

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 1 year

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Collateral Damage

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 11. Takes place in a Spider-man AU. The Night-Spider AU. Hiccup finds out who the man under the mask of Doc Ock is.

Warning: /

Rating: Teen and Up

Characters: Hiccup, Viggo, Stoick, Gobber

Pairing: Slight Vigcup

Words: 1 413

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Paralyzed

Whumpee: Hiccup, Viggo

Author’s Notes: What do you do when you watch Across The Spider-Verse? You come up with your own AU, of course.

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

When the Night-Spider webs up all of Doc Ock’s metal appendages before he can strike again, he hadn’t thought his plan through. He just wanted to disarm him, get the old artifact- a cylindrical object with these strange lenses- back, and then finally hand him over to the police at long last.

But he didn’t catch him in time and Doc Ock plummeted to the ground from the third floor of an apartment complex next door to the museum that he stole it from. There was the sound of him crashing into the dumpster below before ending up on the ground.

Standing on the ledge of the roof, the Night-Spider looks down at him, shock freezes him in place. His nemesis lay far beneath him and as the seconds pass, he remains unmoving.

“Oh no… Oh no!” Panic is starting to set in. He hurries down, shooting a web to a nearby railing and slinging down. When his feet touch the ground, he drops to his knees next to his fallen foe.

He can hear his labored breathing through his mask, a clear sign of life.

“Oh Gods, oh no. What do I do? What do I do?” His eyes move from the man’s head to his feet and back, his hands hover. In any situation, he’s always managed to keep a levelhead, but not this time. Both parties get hurt in a fight, but never has either one just plummeted to the ground and then stopped moving. No, something is terribly wrong with the Doc.

“Come on, Spider-man,” he tells himself, willing his heart rate to calm. He can’t take care of him if he’s like this.

Finding some kind of calm in the storm, he moves to remove the mask. As a masked vigilante himself, he would hate it if someone were to take off his, but if he doesn’t remove Doc Ock’s, he might miss a vital clue.

So he takes it off and another shock courses through his system. First there’s a familiar goatee, followed by several other features that are no stranger to him until at last short dark hair reveals itself to him.

He knows this man. He works for him.

All this time, the good Doc has been Viggo Grimborn. His mentor and his boss.

“Oh Gods.”

Everything he’s done and the battles fought mingle with the sickening feeling of being responsible for his pain or worse. Removing a glove, he checks his breathing and his pulse. It’s thready, he needs a hospital if he is to live another day. Pulling it together, the Night-Spider calls for the first responders, lying and telling them that a civilian got caught in a skirmish between him and Doc Ock.

-XOXOX-

That night, the Night-Spider returns home, suit hidden beneath a layer of regular clothes, hood from a hoodie up. Standing on the doorstep, he pulls off his own mask. Breath shaky, eyes watery, and his chest impossibly tight with emotion. He stuffs it in the pocket of his jeans, his gloves in a different pocket, and walks in with his own key.

The door barely closes behind him when there’s already movement coming from the living room. Rubbing in his eyes to get rid of the salty tears in them, it takes only a second for hands to take his shoulder and turn him around.

“Hiccup, darling,” Stoick pulls his “daughter” in for a hug. Hiccup takes comfort in it, leaning into the man’s chest and beard. Today has been awful.

“Hey lass,” Gobber stands behind him, his eyes speak of comfort.

The hug ends as they break apart. A good thing, he was close to breaking. A finger to his chin, his father makes him look up.

“We heard about Viggo. Are you alright?” He asks, his voice softer than he thinks he deserves.

“Just in… shock,” it’s the only way he can describe it. If he is to truly talk about what he feels… no amount of words can describe that.

A tear slips free, he wipes the rest away before they can, but Stoick still pulls him in for another. Gobber reaches over and pats him on the back in support.

-XOXOX-

Viggo suffered massive internal bleeding and several fractures, including to the spine. He has a brain bleed that isn’t currently putting his life at risk for the time being and a slew of bruises.

As soon as he’s allowed to, Hiccup visits him. He sits in the chair at his bedside when he stirs. He’d needed surgery to stop the bleeding in his abdomen, but they’re not sure yet about his spine.

“Hiccup?” Viggo’s voice comes out slow and raw, though there’s no way he could’ve known that he was sitting there, waiting for him to wake up.

“I’m here,” Hiccup tells him, drawing his tired gaze as he sits closer. despite his drowsiness, a smile crosses his face upon seeing him.

“My Dear,” he sighs and grasps his hand, but Hiccup takes his hand back. Viggo has no idea he’s the reason why he’s in the hospital. He has barely begun to give this fact a place, let alone that he’s the real identity behind his alter ego’s nemesis.

“How’re you feeling?” Hiccup asks.

“...Numb,” Viggo swallows and he looks away, guilt eating him alive. He hopes he feels numb because the drugs from the surgery have yet to wear off and not because the spine injury that he caused has paralyzed him.

They won’t know until his doctor comes to check up on him and give him the news.

Viggo must not suspect anything yet, he hasn’t asked him any questions yet.

“You got involved in a fight and…” I saw you.’ He can’t tell him that.

“With the Night-Spider, yes. So you know?” He says it so casually, almost like he expected him to find out.

“Don’t look at me like that, my Dear. I know how you must’ve found me, you’ve always been brilliant. Yet I find myself unguarded by authorities. You kept my secret, didn’t you?" He asks, his voice a low rumble. Hiccup nods.

It's one thing when you're out fighting crime and trying to make the world a better place, but when you find out one of your recurring baddies is someone you're close with… Well, it changes the whole game.

"Did he see me?" Then Viggo asks that question and suddenly he's not sure how to answer.

"No, I…" How do I tell you this? "He called for the ambulance, but he left as soon as I came to see what all that noise was about. He didn't remove your mask, I did." And in a way, it's not a lie. He didn't feel like the put-together hero that so many people look up to in that moment. He was just Hiccup then. The dragon nerd. The dreamer. Too scared to be out to his fathers, his professional life, or the world. Whether as the vigilante or who he truly is. Can't be connected to the Night-Spider if not even the genders your presenting line up. And no connection means family and friends stay safe.

Once upon a time, it meant Viggo stayed safe. Until it turned out he's one of the villains and now Hiccup isn't sure anymore who he's protecting anymore. Viggo from the Spider or his loved ones from him.

They've worked together for months now, trying to create biomechanical replacements and other aids for amputees, an extremely personal endeavor for him. How did he not see? How has his boss, genius as he is, not seen through him?

Or perhaps he has. And he's keeping his secret, just like Hiccup currently keeps his?

Viggo takes his hand again, this time it's not taken back. He pulls his fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of them. Hiccup is not surprised, there's been a bit of flirting in the workplace. A “power imbalance” his friends had called it, Astrid and Heather particularly worried. He’s out to them, but they also know that they are the only ones he’s out to and Viggo is almost twice his age.

“Thank you for keeping my secret, my Dear,” Viggo shows his gratitude, keeping their joined hands on his chest, close to his heart.

Hiccup wants to pull away, but doesn’t find the strength to. The last thing he should do now is turn his back on him. Viggo needs him, he has no one else.

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