#< and thanks to a Tumblr post about a certain alternate version of a certain character from a certain sci fi show | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

agentravensong · 6 months

Text

two scenes i would add to nerdy prudes must die

the thing about being autistic is that i will have no motivation to sit down and write stuff for my grad school applications all day, but then at night i'll find it in me to spend 3+ hours writing a tumblr post about my latest hyperfixation ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this time that hyperfixation is nerdy prudes must die, a show that, despite still not being my favorite starkid hatchetfield musical, has really dug its claws into me. i'm gonna detail two scenes that i think would add to certain character arcs, give ritchie (and ruth)'s death(s) more impact, and really drive home the show's themes. don't think i need much more preamble than that, so, here we go!

1. Second Lauter family scene

A scene set between Ritchie's death and Ruth's, fitting best in the plot as is right after "Hatchet Town".

Primary purpose: Show more of Steph's character and her relationship with her father; show that the attitudes that made the teens' high school experience hell (pre-ghost!max) are reinforced by the adults

Basic outline: Steph and her dad are having a convo, prompted by the mayor, about how school is going; a kind of convo that, with how awkward it is, clearly doesn't happen often. Lauter says something half-hearted about how it's a shame her high school experience is being ruined by these events, because it was the happiest time of his life (as a contrast to the opinions our protags express in the opening number).

Steph doesn't want to talk about the murder stuff (duh) so she redirects to how her grades have genuinely improved (or at least did for a minute there) thanks to her studying with Pete, in a way that makes it clear she's genuinely proud of her improvement.

Mayor Lauter, in response, tells her that he doesn't want her hanging out with the nerds anymore, in or out of school, because it makes her a target (and also a suspect).

Steph gets upset at this dismissal; what kind of dad, she scoffs, would tell their daughter who was finally succeeding academically to stop trying? Especially when he was the one who told her to get her grades up?

And Mayor Lauter says something to the effect of, "You don't need to be a star student. I know you, Stephanie; that's never going to be you. All you need to be is good enough. Can you just do that for me?"

We have the mayor leave at this point; let's say he gets a phone call, cause that makes sense, and also is a deeply ironic reason for him to leave a family conversation considering his criticism of Steph's phone use. Steph could even point that out as a joke.

Here is where, if we have time, we give Steph a solo number. Well, it could be a solo, or it could be a duet with her dad — the kind where they're not singing to each other or aware that the other is singing, but they're basically singing their different perspectives on the same thing (in this case, their relationship). I propose the duet version because Corey deserves to get to show off his vocals more prominently in these shows.

Alternate ending if we're not doing the song: Steph can storm out, and the mayor can have an ominous line foreshadowing the drastic measures he'll be taking when we see him again.

The idea with this scene is that I want to give more weight to the whole "she's smarter than she thinks she is" angle to Steph's character. Show that she has found something through her bond with the nerds (Pete mainly) that makes her want to be more than just the "cool girl". And show that there is a part of her that wants a better relationship with her father (because if he won't believe in her, be proud of her, then who will?).

But also, we see how her dad has pigeonholed her into being that kind of airhead. All he cares about is that she stays out of trouble (which is to say, anything that would cause trouble for him). He doesn't care what she's genuinely interested in, what she aspires to; he's spent most of her teenage-hood assuming she's not interested in anything worthwhile, that she doesn't aspire to anything. He doesn't see her as a full person.

And, perhaps most importantly, him telling her not to associate with the nerds draws a direct line between him and our main antagonist, Max. Which matters for reasons that will become clearer as I discuss the second additional scene I came up with.

For the record, if I only got to add one of these scenes (NPMD is the longest of the Hatchetfield shows already, and both these scenes would have to be Act 2 additions), I'd pick this next one. So let's get to it.

2. High School Regression scene

Primary purpose: Showing how the murder(s) has/have affected the student body, and making the point that the hierarchies Max represented can't be disposed of that easily when he's still, literally and metaphorically, haunting the place.

This one would happen in between when the protags find out about Ritchie's death and when Grace informs Pete and Steph of Ruth's death. Practically, this means it would have to be set either:

A) right before Ruth goes to the BBQ Monologues rehearsal, with the scene centering around her, and leading directly into her arrival there (maybe replacing the cop convo entirely? maybe they're at the end of it)

or B) as basically a replacement for the Beanie's scene, but still leading into "If I Loved You" (and everything that comes after)

The beat-by-beat for this one is less solid in my head compared to the first scene, but the idea is that we see some of the cheerleaders and jocks going back to bullying Ruth in version A or Pete in version B (though in a less confident and malicious manner than Max did, as if their hearts aren't fully in it). Ruth or Pete gives some pushback and asks what changed to make them revert to this behavior.

I'm not sure how exactly the bullies express the "why", but in plain-speak, it's this: the students know about Ritchie (and Ruth)'s murder(s), and, maybe more importantly, the "nerdy prudes must die" that was written in Richie's blood. The message they've taken from that is that there is a killer reinforcing the social hierarchies they all abandoned when Max died. And so, with that latent threat hanging in the air, these students have decided to fall in line, in the hopes that they'll therefore be spared. Maybe, even, the murders will stop.

(you could also have one or two kids who are genuinely almost as cruel as max and are using this as an excuse to going back to being the assholes they were before, but you'd need more proper set-up for such a character i think)

Version A is pretty straightforward. I like the idea of Pete and/or Steph being there as well so it isn't just Ruth experiencing the misery (considering where things go from here)... but I know that they need to be dressed as different characters for when Ruth gets to the auditorium, so that probably isn't practical. Maybe there'd be time for Mariah to have made that quick change if Joey really stretched out his bit? But I know the change was tight even for Angela as is.

For version B, you could have the bullies find Steph and Pete at or on their way to Beanie's and be assholes to them there (because it makes sense to me that Steph and Pete would want to have their potentially incriminating conversation off high school grounds), but I think it has more thematic punch to set it in the high school.

Wherever it's set, in version B, Steph and Pete talk a bit about how the bullies' regression sucks, how things are even worse now than they were before Max died, which then leads into their conversation as it is in the actual show over whose fault this all is.

With Pete specifically, I think it'd be neat to call back to what he said to Steph way back in the show about his desire to blend in, to be invisible. That maybe, for a little bit, he liked being accepted, being important (to one person in particular), but it wasn't worth it. And with Steph, if we do have the second dad convo in this version of the show, we can maybe have her comment on how even her dad seems to believe in this bullshit social hierarchy, how they might never escape it.

I mentioned in my post detailing my initial nerdy prudes thoughts that I wished Pete and Steph had a convo that felt like Paul and Emma's convo right before "Join Us and Die". Basically, this is my attempt to give these teens that, without adding an entirely new scene just for that.

As a whole, this scene is my best attempt to Make Something of the themes and plot threads that are so well set up but get kind of lost in the last... third? of the show. Plenty of people have rightly posted that the adults are the real villains of this story. Max isn't scary just because he's one guy; he's representative of larger ideas, a larger system, perpetuated by those adults. Hierarchy, competition, and domination, treated as the natural, necessary state of the world. A system that reduces the personhood of all those ensnared in it.

Those ideas won't just disappear with his death. Max might have peaked in high school even if he lived because of the specific brand of boisterous asshole he was, but the world that instilled those ideas in him, the world beyond high school, will keep fostering and enforcing them, in its more mundane, subtle (comparatively) ways. It will keep producing more Maxs, and more Solomon Lauters.

Like, the whole "fuck clivesdale" bit is a running joke, and a funny one! But, also, I think there's something to be said about the fact that both the teens and adults are all in on this seemingly one-way rivalry, and how much focus is placed on it, in a show about *bullying*. A show about people who have arbitrary labels slapped on them as an excuse to be cruel to them.

"you're fucking losers, and we'll kill you!" isn't that far off as a sentiment from "nerdy prudes must die", is it?

and, like. their team name is the clivesdale chemists. chemists, like, nerds. it's supposed to be part of the joke, i'm pretty sure, that they're named after something nerdy, not a cool animal. if that parallel isn't intentional, then, i dunno man. it's still there either way.

(see also: the musical motif underneath the "who will pray for me" section of nerdy prudes must die also appearing as the chorus of "hatchet town". a motif that plays both when max asks ritchie who will remember him (who will remember *them*), right before enacting his ultimate "justice", and when the adults twist their memories into an excuse for a witch hunt, their own paranoid search for "justice".)

In real life, getting rid of the one asshole at the top of a rotten system doesn't fix the system. If the non-nerdy teens in this school were impressionable enough that one asshole could make them all act in line with his arbitrary beliefs, then his haunting presence (even if they don't know it's literally his ghost) should absolutely have *some* effect on them too.

And I think if you included a scene like this, it would make all that stuff in the script that's subtext, or half-developed, feel like it really was intentional, purposeful.

Does that all make sense? I hope so.

I know that actually trying to fit both of these into the show would require cutting some other stuff down for time, and it would complicate scene transitions and maybe fuck with the overall pacing. Really, this is more a thought experiment than anything else. I'm just glad to have it out of my head after it's been brewing there for multiple days, There's other stuff I'd change if I were to do a full edit of the script, sure, but these are the big things that really would've made the show click for me on the level tgwdlm does.

#starkid #hatchetfield #nerdy prudes must die #nerdy prudes spoilers #npmd spoilers #now to get some sleep and come back to this in a day or two

34 notes · View notes

theladyofbloodshed · 1 year

Note

So, I have a question. I am planning a new series with following a certain mythology. I know a lot of readers drag sjm through the mud about stealing names from mythologies (including myself), like the names of gods/goddess & places, and not coming up with none on her own.

How should I combat that?

Is it a tad bit better to come up with all new names and places but keep the mythology lore?

I am trying to avoid being like sjm. (Also, I am asking a bunch of other tumblrs this question so you might see it around).

Long post incoming...

I think the issue with some of sjm's mythology is that she rips it away from certain cultures and then does nothing with it or warps it to the point where she should have just invented her own name e.g. Morrigan is famous in Irish folklore as three sisters (who are also all the same goddess) who is associated with war, she can be seen washing the armour of soldiers who will die that day. She's also famous for trying to seduce/end Cuchulainn who was battling Queen Maeve. There is no way sjm just came up with the name, because there are some similarities with acotar mor... but then we've never actually seen her power in 5 books.

She just takes random bits from lots of different cultures. Acotar was supposedly inspired by Outlander which is set in Scotland. The Ballad of Tam Lin is also Scottish (but acotar really is not similar to it). We have Rhys/Amren/Nuala/Cerridwen which are all Welsh names. But then I've seen people interpret Nuala and Cerridwen as POC because sjm is so vague (not to say welsh people cannot be poc, but the clothing they - and feyre - first wear is more like Jasmine from aladdin). Morrigan is Irish. Azriel is Hebrew. Cassian is Latin. Nesta is Welsh. Elain is Welsh. Eris is Greek. Lucien is French. Puca are celtic. The bogge comes from old english for the bogeyman. The Weaver is based on strzyga which are slavic. Baba Yellowlegs is a rip off of baba yaga also from slavic folklore. Koschei is also a slavic legend along with the Firebird. Heck, just look at the Slovenian flag and you'll see three mountains with three stars above it. I've seen people theorise that Thurr is CC is like Thor and CC will be the norse ragnarok.

Calan Mai is a Welsh festival and the acotar version is a bastardisation of it. Fires are lit to ward off spirits and banish disease the night before. On the day, farmers traditionally took their animals out to pastures and singing/drinking happened to give thanks for a good season. A May Queen and King would be crowned and the village green opened. SJM took Calan Mai from welsh traditions and turned it into a giant orgy (of course). Thunderbirds are important to Native American mythology and sjm has just taken that yet again for a character. I've only read cc2 once but I feel like there was no description of Sofie whatsoever.

It's not wrong to borrow from mythologies and folklore. These stories have existed for thousands of years for a reason. My issue is the strange amalgamation of shoving so many together and snipping only the "nice" bits e.g. the Morrigan can transform into an eel and she loses an eye at one point and transforms into an old woman. Sjm cant have ugly main characters!

I think try and be consistent with the mythologies e.g. don't mix lots of different ones together if you're using "real" names because I don't think they gel well - this is my friend Thor, his brother Apollo, and their friend Anubis. There are sooooo many mythology/folklore books out there. I have a whole shelf because I love it. There are also so many websites. Delve into less commonly known mythologies/stories. Alternatively, be inspired by them and come up with your own creations. Or, come up with your own lore in general :-)

Ultimately, you are telling the story you want to write. Do what is best for you!

#anon asks

28 notes · View notes

salvadoerena · 9 months

Note

hey! this is chance & here’s this week’s prompt. what websites or resources do you use while you write or develop a character/story? what do you think of them and would you recommend them?

OOOOO GOOD QUESTION!!

Funnily enough, tumblr is one of the main ones. My characters tend to develop from ye olde tumblr oc ask/rp blogs, so I got in the habit of reblogging a lot of funny posts tagging my characters. It still happens even if I'm not tagging them. For example if there's a post like "every friend group has the chihuahua, the yorkie, and the borzoi" or like, a picture of someone holding a giant mouse or something, in my head I go "haha, yeah Andy is tooootally a yorkie. Too much energy and slight diva tendencies" or "oh man giant versions of little things would be rad. is there a way I can worldbuild on that? more oxygen in grounded islands means bigger bugs?"

Sometimes, if I'm looking for inspiration regarding character designs/fashion references, I might go on picrew or pinterest and just look and see different styles people might have or mess around with doll makers. Usually picrew doesn't have what I'm looking for exactly, but it'll be something like "oh there's a fishnet top in this one. i think Mareilli would absolutely wear this" or "oh this is a fun hairstyle. i should give more of my characters long hair so they can do more updo's," you know? So if you're looking for character design/inspo, highly recommend!!

If you wanted my biggest website inspiration though, it's probably youtube. I spend a lot of time on there watching speedpaints/character designs/costume builds/etc and it's a HUUUUGE inspiration. A lot of dichotomies I make between Grounded/Aerin islands comes from listening to people like Bernadette Banner regarding like...okay so like she made a video re: the costuming choices in Game of Thrones and that REALLY sent me on a spiral into looking at what differences in fashion and textiles you would find in islands that...float...and have windstorms haha;;;

This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would so the rest is under the cut! (Please read under the cut there's some writing programs and editing services I recommended under there).

And I know everyone says this but seriously: consume as much media as possible. I cannot even BEGIN to tell you how much television, music, film, books, anime, manga, comics, podcasts, and video games have either driven me to better my writing or have inspired me to make certain creative choices.

A lot of things from Seraetia were heavily inspired by Black Sails, from things like costume design to obfuscating certain characters' motives to me deciding to go whole hog on including polyamory as an end-game relationship status for some characters. Reading The Locked Tomb series and the Percy Jackson and the Olympians (plus literally everything else in that series haha) really pushed me into forcing myself to work on my imagery and prose, while also forcing me to think about pacing and how/if I should write it as a saga or how arcs should work. Nonfiction stories and documentaries also help!! Though, I'm pretty biased as I'm more into animals and psychological research, but I have definitely referred to those things when thinking up like, units of measurement and cuisine and things.

Also do NOT underestimate the power of infodumping and word vomiting with friends. When I write out my acknowledgements, @okiedoki and @miscbeary are going to be front and center "Thank you guys so much for letting me speak nonsense for hours on end and just nodding along." Roleplay with friends!! Even silly little inconsequential things or alternate universes or iterations upon iterations will help you to flesh out your characters! I've come up with so much about James and he's gone through so much development because I would go "Haha what if he was in the modern world he'd probably own an iguana that would be funny. Why an iguana...? You know, it's probably because he likes to be seen as different, but also because he just thinks they're cool. They're dinosaur-like and he enjoys the fact that something so unconventional and kind of scary can love and be loved--OH MY GOD JAMES SEES HIMSELF AS A MONSTER AND USES THE IGUANA TO PROJECT AND TEACH HIMSELF HE'S WORTHY OF LOVE."

*cracks knuckles*

Now in terms of actual programs you can use to write stories!!

Google Docs tends to be my go-to, but ever since I discovered StimuWrite 2, I tend to switch between both. Since I do most of my writing at night, Gdocs is really harsh on my eyes (even with f.lux, blue light glasses, and darkreader), so I like that you can set a gentler background on StimuWrite. Even better, it makes my ADHD brain happy and actually stay on task bc there's so much stimulation in there lol The only downside is that it doesn't really save your work (there's an emergency back-up it creates, but it's only for the last couple of writing sessions I believe), so I'll use it to write out a bulk portion and then transfer it to Gdocs.

If you're planning on writing a serious novel and want something with a little bit more organizational prowess, I would go with Scrivener. It has a lot of bells and whistles that are actually pretty neat, like being able to save reference documents/photos and putting it in the same "container" as the actual writing passage. Honestly? It's a lot. But!! It includes a built-in tutorial that does a REALLY good job of going through everything, so highly highly HIGHLY recommend following it because it explains the features very well and I do quite like them! Unfortunately, it does cost $60, but it's a one-time purchase and genuinely very useful.

If you're more into screenwriting that novels and the like, cannot recommend FadeIn enough. We had to use that in my Creative Screenwriting class and it was SO easy to use and made exporting scripts SUCH a breeze. In fact, Welcome to Irth was entirely developed in FadeIn, haha.

If you're looking for more like, art resources I would go with things like Clip Studio Paint/Paint Tool SAI. I used to use FireAlpaca like a decade ago, and I really enjoyed it! Can't say how well it's held up, though. PureRef is great too!! It helps you keep track of your reference images, and you can set it to "float" on top of other programs.

FINALLY LAST BUT NOT LEAST!!!

If you're looking for an editing service, please please PLEASE look into RoseLark Publishing. I had the privilege of working with them this past summer getting a Manuscript Assessment and I'm so glad I did. They're very professional and are great at communicating their timelines and everything! They might still be accepting editing assessment applications at this time, but you can shoot them an e-mail on their contact page!

Anyways, I am going to stop myself here or I will literally not shut up. Thank you for asking!! I looooooove love talking about my writing and apparently about the writing process as well, lol.

#digital-chance #ask #long post #writing #writing ref

4 notes · View notes

pink-strawberry-kissess · 2 years

Text

Glimpse of us (Leon S Kennedy x ?)

CROSS POSTED FROM MY AO3

Summary: "She's like a part of me I can't let go."

Leon struggles with his unresolved feelings with a certain woman in red as his life falls into disarray after being forced into a relationship he never wanted under the pretense of it "being good" for him.

“-I never thought my life would turn out this way.”

Based on the song "Glimpse of Us" by Joji

pain pain pain gang gang gang

Notes: a/n: OKAY so I literally haven’t written anything for a few months now. I used to write for a different fandom, and if you’re interested in it, I can send you my tumblr. If you're not interested in that fandom/characters then i'm not disclosing it lol so you have to ask me somehow lol

SO I just haven’t been super uhh, my writing isn’t very good right now but I’m trying lol

i initially wanted to write a bit with infinite darkness leon but i felt like i couldn't get it in properly so i just axed it also leon vendetta is kinda implied but not a lot the plotline is used so-

since this is over most of leon's timeline there's different versions of him, so hopefully you can imagine which one i'm talking about when i get to it lmao

OKAY THANKS HOPE YOU ENJOY (or not)

also so i don't get crucified, cleon shippers probably dni???

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Warnings: Implied Sexual Content, Angst, Fluff, Suicidal Thoughts, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon, Divergence, POV Multiple, POV Changes, No Dialogue, Brief Dialogue, time jumps, Time Skips, could be read without much knowledge of the games but some are obviously from games/movies, Heavy Angst, certain ships do not apply here, angst with no happy ending for one ship, Non Canon Timeline, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Cheating, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Gun Violence, Resident Evil 2 Leon, Resident Evil 4 Leon, resident evil 6 leon, resident evil damnation leon, Game: Resident Evil 2, Post-Resident Evil 4, Leon S Kennedy - Freeform, leon kennedy - Freeform, Ada Wong - Freeform, Mentioned Ada Wong

Word count: 3227

Regret laced through every single fibre of his being. Sharp thorns piercing him with pangs of guilt and nearly swallowing him whole in a deep carmine red of his own blood. His body aching from years of paralyzing trauma. Every painful day spent wondering if it was going to be different. Every second kept him thinking, if he made a different decision; would he still be here. Exactly like this, today.

Leon was riddled with decades of trauma, pain and remorse. Turning to the bottle as a common response to him. His coping mechanism to escape from everything that was thrown at him. Struggling with his lost innocence of youth and losing himself to the pain of it all, caused him to turn to the sweet bitter liquid one too many times. Drowning himself in anything other than what he was feeling, wanting to taste more than the metallic aftertaste of blood and the wretched stench of death that lingered in his memories.

Blue bright eyes and naive to the world, at the age of twenty one, he finally completed one of his childhood dreams of becoming a cop. Wanting to do good and be good despite it all.

Then Raccoon City happened.

Post traumatic stress disorder. PTSD is a common symptom with soldiers, along with a long list of others. Seeing atrocities that no person should ever see in a lifetime. Leon had seen more than one person should ever see in a single night. Afterwards, nights were spent alone, tossing and turning. Struggling to get a single second of relief. It was nothing other than, hell. It only ever got worse, never better. There were others who maybe suffered worse, those who never lived to tell their tale. Though, he’d never wish that on anyone. When your entire being is plagued with painful memories. The only remedy is the obvious one.

She'd take the world off my shoulders

If it was ever hard to move

She'd turn the rain to a rainbow

When I was living in the blue

Why then, if she is so perfect

Do I still wish that it was you?

Perfect don't mean that it's working

So what can I do? (Ooh)

When you're out of sight

In my mind

Somehow, she was always there. Following him around desperately like a love sick puppy. Her bright personality reminded him of himself sometimes. The younger version him. The version of himself where he truly believed that the world was black and white. Right and wrong. Good and evil. Not the shades of morally ambiguous greys that filtered his view of the world now.

Yet every, "I love you," he heard from her was supposed to fix him. That’s how ‘love’ is supposed to work, the way it brightens up your world in every hue of colours. Seeing colours you've never seen before. Every little achievement, goal reached and task finished is something to celebrate with someone that loves you. The sun shines just a bit brighter and feels just a bit warmer. Every season spent together is a new change embraced. The freezing and melting of frigid ice cold winter and the blooming of pink petals every spring. The hot humid heat of summer and the cooling cozy nights of autumn. Every little thing just feels better. Every problem is an easy enemy to defeat with someone there by your side. You feel invincible. It’s perfection.

That’s how it’s supposed to be. ‘Love’ is supposed to cure all ailments. Make you feel better. Fix you. So why didn’t Leon feel any better.

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes

And that's where I find a glimpse of us

And I try to fall for her touch

But I'm thinking of the way it was

Said I'm fine and said I moved on

I'm only here passing time in her arms

Hoping I'll find

A glimpse of us

Despite his best efforts, he could see how he pained her. That despite it all, he couldn’t love her the way that he knew she wanted him to. Her childish fears of his true feelings for her pained him more with each lie.

“Of course I love you.”

A lie intertwined with piercing thorns with a delicate white rose a top it. Each petal, a white flag surrendering each time she asked him. Reassurance for each time she was afraid. Petrified that Leon was going to leave her. And each time another white rose raised to ease her fears. A garden of little white lies to keep her. But with each new lie, there would be more thorns he’d have to avoid catching on at some point. Ripping him open and exposing his lie he had lived for the past years he had promised to her.

First loves, no matter how brief. Change you. Years had gone by and he hadn’t been able to feel like that ever again. Pure unadulterated desire. Something so captivating in her eyes that left him haunted by the image of her every night. That very shade of warmth in her eyes, despite her cold temperament. The very idea of her left him dazed and disoriented. Hungry. Something that fuelled him in his very bones. Comfort was something he craved and desired, as for most people. But something about the thrill of it all. That excited him even more.

He couldn’t ever forget.

Her.

It was brief, the time he spent with her, but the sparks that he felt burned him from the inside out. Eviscerating any sense of reason he had. Each new revelation about her brought out new emotions in him he had kept tucked and buried away. The pain of her supposed death. The relief knowing that she had been alive all along. And the years he spent mourning her. Not only her, but the idea of losing someone. That he’d been at fault. That if he had been just a bit faster. Stronger. That maybe, it could’ve been different. Seeing her again. Her kiss against his lips felt like it was yesterday again, igniting him. The gentle brush of her hands against his body. How easy it was for her to melt into him.

6 years. 6 years is nearly a lifetime for someone in their twenties. Leon had hardened as a person, stoic and strong. Someone more cynical. Not as aloof to the world and its secrets. His recruitment into becoming a government agent was less than ideal, threatened with death or becoming an agent; he took the obvious route.

Afterwards he had already begun to realize that the world was more corrupt than he originally thought it was. Cold and cruel leaders with plastered good faces and outlooks lead the world. Little white lies kept the world in order. How naive it was to think that it was anything other than that keeping the corruption at bay. The worlds powers fought constantly for authority, threatening each other with violence, viruses and mass terror. The elite knew, that all that mattered was how much one let slip. That’s how it’s been for decades, and nothing was going to stop it.

He knew that it was a losing battle. The wrong side of the coin to bet on. Despite that, somehow he'd always find a way to fight it.

Years had passed again before he saw her again. A shot in the dark as her sharp crossbow bolt flew past him, hitting her target behind him. A threatening introduction; granted, he was quick to draw his gun at her as well- their circumstances were less than ideal. His gun quickly lowered after shouting her name.

Another woman was attached to him at the hip. And she briefly wondered about their relationship as the brunette drew her own gun at her. Helena, she heard Leon calling her. Helena’s long brown hair wavering with her as she shook in rage, tears brimming at her lashes, her gun wavering just the same.

The gun remained aimed at her. Yet her gaze was fixed on Leon. His hair had gotten just a bit longer. Still framing his perfectly sculpted face, his piercing eyes that shade of blue she could get lost in. He looked a bit more scruffy, roughed up with a few more years of age. And she secretly wondered if he tasted just the same. The slight concern of having Helena’s gun still aimed at her were quickly extinguished as Leon finally gently lowered the gun away from her.

In the brief few seconds he called out for her, he’d already wondered how she’d been since they’ve last seen each other. Despite the distance, he swore he could still remember her scent against him. The sweet saccharin taste of her against his lips. He had promised himself to another and yet he was already thinking about her again. Thinking about the nights they spent together.

They never claimed to be anything. A couple of nights of sex and shared romantic notions meant little when they knew they couldn’t be together. Their lives would never work together without heavy sacrifice. So these few nights spent together were nothing more than a fantasy. Something so sweet and just beyond reach, lingering on the edge of what could be. His thoughts lingered to dark places intermixed with longing ones. He’d wondered if she had found someone else, if someone else could quell the need she had. His sick mind already imagining her with someone else had him twisted with a slight rage.

And yet images of the moments in bed with her still tangled around him flooded his vision. Him buried in between her warm creamy thighs with her legs wrapped around his waist. Wondering if she was staying another night or not. The way she rode him how he needed her to. His fingertips pressed hard into her skin as he felt his release deep inside of her. Marking her anyway he could, the only reminder of him on her. Her manicured nails pressed painfully into his back as her walls fell down as she released herself around him. The last bit of resistance slipping away from her as she clung onto him, desperately riding through the pleasures that coursed through the both of them. In those split seconds, Leon could see her. The real her. The version of herself where she fully trusted him. His own fears about her. The constant struggle of wanting her- and knowing that it couldn’t work.

The empty pain every morning he woke alone, with nothing more than a delicately hand written letter placed on the nightstand. Her gentle scent still enveloping him. Her warmth lingering in the bed. It only made him want her more. His own inner demons was killing him, ripping through his flesh like the monsters he dealt with. Flooding him with dark red desire.

Tell me he savours your glory

Does he laugh the way I did?

Is this a part of your story?

One that I had never lived

Maybe one day you'll feel lonely

And in his eyes, you'll get a glimpse

Maybe you'll start slipping slowly

And find me again

When you're out of sight

In my mind

The interaction was brief, more dangers were always close by. More questions riddled him as he worked towards ending the case, destroying the so called evil. Helena working alongside him, her soft voice nearly whispering to him what he already knew.

“She’s more than just a friend, isn’t she? You have feelings for her.”

He didn’t need to hear it, already knowing that. His little lie he told himself to bare himself the excruciating pain of not knowing the truth. But it was more complicated than that. True, that friends don’t spend hours learning every single part of each others body. It was her kiss prints that lingered on his skin for years. Each one etched onto him like a stain, no matter how hard he’d try; he couldn’t help but feel like his skin was on fire each time she touched him. His fingers traced against her body, against each scar and new wound; asking her where it came from as she did the same for him.

She would mirror his movements, somehow timid yet sure sometimes. Deliberate but graceful. The obvious scar she’d graze her fingertip against his shoulder. The slight concave little circle against his skin she remembered bandaging all those years ago. A little morbid reminder of their first night together. The first time she felt like she let someone in.

Those nights were often the same. His fingers ghosting along her body until they were pressed tightly against her soft hips. His airy whimpers and whines growing as he tried to hold onto her for dear life. Grasping tightly as he chased her lips, wanting more and more each time, bruising her skin and marking her as a reminder of him. Finally feeling what he craved. Cradling her smaller face against his hands as he felt the short wisps of her dark black hair bouncing with each movement of their bodies. His own matted dirty blond tresses against his forehead as her delicate fingers ran through his hair, pushing them out of the way as she breathed another kiss against his skin. Inhaling each other like air. Feeling and fuelling the fire inside of him.

It was supposed to be more complicated than that.

And yet he was quick to jump from a burning building seeing her laying lifeless on the ground. Running to her the second he saw her needing him. As she laid against him, cradled into him, he whispered sweet nothings to her; much like he would during the nights she would stay. He silently prayed to see her open her eyes again. Wanting to see those warm eyes again.

A short exhale slipped from her lips as she slowly woke, “I was just resting my eyes,” she exhaled a quiet laugh, noticing Leon as his tall form shielded her from the entire world. A small smile formed on her lips, ever the hero.

“Shouldn’t sleep on the job,” he quipped back, aiding her back up onto her feet. As the city burned, the evil defeated. She was already gone again. Leon seeing her from across the tops of the building, he questioned himself again. Despite their lives being tangled together in the most messy and intimate ways, he still wondered about her. Wondered why she always helped him somehow in the end. Leading him back to her somehow.

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes

And that's where I find a glimpse of us

And I try to fall for her touch

But I'm thinking of the way it was

Now he was stuck. Stagnant in a loveless relationship he never wanted to be in. Lifeless in a lifestyle he never wanted. Working on missions that never went anywhere. More corruption, more of the government covering up something else. And yet she was there. The ‘bright sunshine of his life’ that was supposed to brighten his day with each of her smiles. And try her best, he’d try to be better.

Each empty bottle of whiskey she would find stashed somewhere in their shared home left little to the imagination. A soft sigh slipped from her lips. This was all she ever wanted. But he was never really here. Each hug and kiss felt hollow. They haven't shared a bed in months. If they did it would only be a few hours of sleep before he'd be gone again. Each time he’d swear it was only her. She’d believe him. The way those baby blues stared back at her, she’d believe in him every time. Of course she’d want to. She didn’t want to throw away years of their lives together. Spent together, and grown together. She was persistent, wanting to make it work. But each smile he gave her only broke away at her heart. His twisted sweet smile that would tell her that everything would be okay.

She wasn’t naive. At least not towards the end of their relationship. The subtle soft scent of her lingered on his skin some nights. Airy floral jasmine and supple honey stained his skin, penetrating deeply into him. The slightest of bruising of her lip prints reddening against his neck. The way he kissed her felt off, chaste. And yet it would be lingering, like she could taste her. How sickeningly sweet she was. Like she was laced with sweet plump cherries and liquor. No wonder he always went back to her.

Even the way Leon spoke would be different, for a while. Softer, gentler and more relaxed. Somehow more like himself. Claire knew deep down that she was a stand in, a second choice. Someone who was just there because she was there. Left standing there alone when she wasn’t needed anymore. And she deserved better than this, so why didn’t she go?

Each night he was away, he would take the quietest way back, sneaking into their home at the darkest of night. Like he was a stranger in his own home. He never wanted to wake her, and yet she was awake, every time. Awake in her own nightmare.

Said I'm fine and said I moved on

I'm only here passing time in her arms

Hoping I'll find

A glimpse of us

Ooh, ooh-ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh

“-I never thought my life would turn out this way.” Losing all of his men in a single mission was the last straw for him. The gentle tip backwards into his alcoholism. One of the last many triggers that lead him to almost putting a bullet into his head. But he never did it. No matter how easy it was to pull the trigger against an enemy, against one of those monsters. He couldn’t do it to himself. His finger ghosting along the cold metal trigger, aimed at himself. Cowardice or pride, maybe both, his finger lifted each time, his gun remained loaded, and left alone. Placed back onto the bedside table. Each time he’d lay back down, lay his body to rest, and wait for the next day to rise.

Each day, he drifted further and further apart from her. And she slipped further and further away from him. The love she felt for him, it waned everyday. Sand escaping the hourglass, their time was running out. Each time she tried to let him in, he’d simply walk away. Each fight lead to her forgiving him. Leon making the simple promise of doing better, and Claire letting him feed her the lie. They’d lay together in their bed, simply holding each other as they both wondered where the other was. Even in her arms, she knew, he wasn’t there. And as he lay there, trying to feel something, anything, a spark of a feeling. He’d try to feel. Try to feel, anything. He couldn’t.

All he could do, was try and remember.

Her.

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes

And that's where I find a glimpse of us

And I try to fall for her touch

But I'm thinking of the way it was

Said I'm fine and said I moved on

I'm only here passing time in her arms

Hoping I'll find

A glimpse of us

Notes: also if it wasn't painfully obvious, i clearly ship one over the other

HER in italics and BOLD is always Ada and i wanted to keep it vague for angst reasons. but i think you can figure it out towards the end. i PERSONALLY always think that leon will alway find a way to go back to ada so even though i know that people like to ship him with claire, i just don't think it makes sense lol so aeon all the way for me.

uhhhhh yeah, so that being said i might post more aeon stuff soon ^__^ i just don't really know since i haven't written for this fandom and i've been out of practice (from writing) for a few months.

THANKS OKAY BYE

#leon kennedy #Leon Kennedy x ada Wong #leon s kennedy #Leon x ada #aeon #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #resident evil vendetta #resident evil damnation #resident evil #i didn't bother to tag other character because i don't wanna get crucified lol

22 notes · View notes

andrewmoocow · 8 months

Text

Steven Universe Snake Eyes chapter 1: Home is Where the Heart Is (originally posted on August 28, 2023)

AN: This is it, everyone. The end finally begins here. We are about to embark on the final installment of Steven Universe: Alternate Future, a grand finale three years in the making. But before we begin, a little history lesson. I intended to follow up Alternate Future with just one sequel, but because I just can't stop at just one story, it soon sprang up into the little shared universe you see before you. Afterwards, I got the idea of the Snake People after watching Planet Hulk on Netflix, which some of you may remember from an answer to an ask I got on my Tumblr, in addition to Thor Ragnarok and Ratchet Deadlocked. So, I slowly began planting the seeds for this epic conclusion throughout most of the previous stories, mainly in The Black Pearl Brigade, which I used as an outlet to expand on this version of Steven's universe and introduce new characters that would play a role in Snake Eyes. Now that we've set the stage, let us begin at last.

Synopsis: Steven returns home to Beach City, but the Gems have gone missing. When Black Rutile explains where the Gems have been taken, Steven goes on a rescue mission.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Noël Wells as Black Rutile

Tom Scharpling as Greg

Grace Rolek as Connie

Zach Steel as Ronaldo

Dee Bradley Baker as Lion

Della Saba as Aquamarine

Charlyne Yi as Eyeball, Doc, Navy, Leggy, Army

Christine Pedi as Holly Blue Agate

Casey Lee Williams as Cat's Eye

Avi Roque as Cinnabar

Awkwafina as Kyanite

Allison Janney as Pyrite

Kimberly Brooks as Dalmatian Jasper

Zehra Fazal as Zoisite

Lena Hall as Bloodstone

Jodie Whittaker as Xenotime

Kari Wahlgren as Pyrope

Melissa Fahn as Demantoid, Eyeball Demantoid

Jinkx Monsoon as Emerald, Chest Emerald

Hayley Kiyoko as Morganite

Halsey as Tanzanite

Idina Menzel as Amazonite

Mia Barron as Apatite

Jennifer Paz as Phoenix Lapis

Gina Torres as Andesine

Barbara Dunkelman as Amber

Kristen Schaal as Howlite

Olivia Olson as Citrine Twins

Neil Flynn as The Officer/Aescul

Chris Jai Alex as Sneople Soldier Leader

Henry Rollins as Captain Boa

"Another day, another minute spent in this hellhole." Black Rutile groaned to herself as she scratched another tally mark on the wall of her Revanche 666 prison cell before lying on her back. "A great man once said that a wise strategist gathers all his information before deciding on a course of action. Well, guess he wasn't talking about me when he said that."

Three weeks ago, by Black Rutile's estimate at least, she was taken to prison on Revanche 666 after the Crystal Gems finally had enough of her scheming to take over the universe and destroy them once and for all. She had everything all planned out too, she manipulated several Crystal Gems to her side, got the support of humans who shared her worldview, and expanded her army with previous allies and innocent Gems she brainwashed into joining her. But once again, thanks to a certain human whose last name she can never get right, Black Rutile's plans had been foiled and she was forced to face the consequences for it. Now all that she had left were the mindless conversations of her subordinates to keep her company.

"Come on, they have one female servicing a large group of males," Kyanite said while in a heated debate over the reproduction of a certain species. "That implies a species that lays eggs."

"Oh my Diamonds, you're crazy!" an irritated Bloodstone yelled. "They are so obviously mammals!"

"Please, she'd be in estrus 24/7 if she didn't lay eggs!" Kyanite objected to Bloodstone's point.

"But they don't lay eggs!" Bloodstone replied. "I don't have to keep telling you this!"

"You're both wrong." Howlite butted into the two's conversation. "They are beings who reproduce asexually, therefore they have no reproductive organs to procreate with."

"Dang Howlite, why you always gotta get so smart on us?" Kyanite asked Howlite.

"Can you nitwits shut up with your insane babbling?!" Aquamarine shrieked from her cell. "I am trying to plot our revenge here!"

"Hey, why are you the one making plans?" Cat's Eye asked Aquamarine while waking up from a cat nap. "Shouldn't Black Rutile be the one arranging everything and gathering forces like she always does?"

"Unfortunately, it seems Black Rutile is no longer fit to lead us," Aquamarine stated, cringing as she insulted the Rutile Rebels' grand leader. "Just look at her, she's become like a pathetic wet cat who's been left out in the rain for way too long."

"You know I can hear you, and I do not like what you're saying." Black Rutile snarled at her tiny second in command.

"But it's true!" Eyeball agreed with Aquamarine. "You've lost your touch, my Rutile! It was because you couldn't accept defeat that we're stuck here today, stripped of our rights and locked up like animals!"

"Yeah, I just wanted my family back!" Tanzanite yelled.

"You need to accept that we lost!" Holly Blue added.

"Yelling feels really cathartic right now!" Amber cheered, only wanting to join in as the other Rutile Rebels snapped at their leader with accusations, making Black Rutile's already low self-esteem worsen before they heard a knock.

"Hey, keep it down, all of you!" a Bismuth guard shouted. "Lights out everyone, see you all in 0800 hours!" However, lights out soon arrived earlier than expected as the imprisoned Gems heard a loud explosion from the entrance of the prison, followed by alarms blaring as a group of snakelike soldiers dressed in black and white armor marched into the prison with blasters at the ready.

"Wow, look at all these Gems!" the leader laughed in surprise. "It's like they had them all wrapped up for us as presents! Okay boys, move out. This should be easy pickings."

"No, not them!" Black Rutile cried in alarm as she instantly recognized these intruders' reptilian bodies. "It can't be!"

"Attention prisoners of Revanche 666, prepare to be enslaved in the name of the Jormagundr royal family of Serpentes!" the leader declared, striking a dramatic pose. "Everybody out of your cells, no need to make a ruckus." At the leader's command, the other snake soldiers released the Rutile Rebels from their cells and forced them into one large group.

"I gotta get out of here!" Black Rutile yelled before she stabbed a snake-man as soon as he freed her from her cell with her bowie knife and made a run for it.

"Hey, that black Gem is escaping! After her!" another soldier yelled as he helped his comrade to his feet and began firing at Black Rutile.

"If you want my soldiers, you're going to have to catch me first!" Black Rutile yelled as she turned her knife into a sword and began cutting down any snake people in her way while trying to find a way to escape.

"Where are you going?" Cinnabar asked Black Rutile. "You can't just leave us behind like this!"

"On the contrary, if you don't need me anymore, then I guess I don't need you anymore either." Black Rutile corrected Cinnabar. "In other words, adios turdnuggets!" After throwing out a few obscene hand gestures with a maniacal laugh, Black Rutile charged to the nearest escape shuttle and began taking off.

"So she's really ditching us, huh?" Emerald mourned as the Rutile Rebels watched their so-called commander escape like a coward. "I should've known it was going to happen soon enough."

"What are you going to do to us?" Pyrope asked while the snake-men busted out sets of handcuffs to put on their Gem prisoners.

"Our lord Cobralan Joramgundr has had his eyes on you for a while, and thanks to some informants, all of you are now ours for the taking." The snakes' leader stated while applying the cuffs to the Ruby squad. "Hope you like fighting for your lives."

"Finally, some action!" Dalmatian Jasper cried excitedly while the snakes tried to work around her lack of a left hand to put the cuffs on her. "Better than rotting in prison for the rest of eternity."

"Oh my sweet Jasper, you have no idea what you and your friends are getting into." The leader snake said forebodingly while applying the last of the handcuffs on Andesine. "Okay, that should be all of the prisoners! Any update on the personnel?"

"Presently restrained, sir." Another snake soldier replied as the Peridots, Bismuths, and Black Pearls were led away from their posts in a chain gang. "Preparing coordinates back to Serpentes. Our leader will be most pleased with our findings."

"Well, this could've turned out a lot worse," Amazonite muttered disdainfully while Phoenix Lapis tried to open her mouth. "And don't even ask how it could get even worse."

Meanwhile, Black Rutile was reclining back in her captain's chair as the shuttle she hijacked flew far away from Revanche 666. She had long dreaded the day that the Snake People would come for the Gems, but she didn't expect that to be today of all days. "It was only a matter of time before our ancient enemies came looking for us." She sighed in relief. "Now all I need is somewhere to hide until this all blows over." As it just so happens, she flew away so fast in her escape, that Black Rutile could see Earth in the far distance, just a little blue ball from her perspective. "Okay, not what I had planned, but maybe I can work with this."

With that, Black Rutile veered the ship towards Earth and began flying to the planet she despised so much, hoping that it would be the Hail Mary she was looking for.

To think it was only a year ago when Steven left Beach City to find himself. A year since he had a meltdown to end all meltdowns, nearly destroyed Beach City, was used by Black Rutile to try and destroy Earth, and finally got the recovery he was so desperate for. Now, after a year of touring the country, he decided it was time to visit his old friends, and it was a very special time too. Steven was going to turn 18 today, and he was eager to see all of his friends and family back home again. But as he pulled into Beach City and was warmly greeted by the excited townies, Steven couldn't help but ponder that something was missing.

"Gooood morning Beach City!" Steven cried as he pulled up to the Crystal Temple and burst out of the Dondai Supremo with a thunderous aplomb. "Everybody's favorite half-Diamond is back for the big One-wait." He stopped short once he realized what was missing. "Where are all the Gems?"

"Steven, is that you?" Steven could hear Greg's voice suddenly appearing behind him. "How you been, Schtu-Ball?"

"Dad!" Steven cried as he rushed up and hugged his father. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"Glad to see you too, kiddo, and happy birthday!" Greg laughed jollily before letting his now adult son go. "Wow, eighteen. Funny how time flies, huh?"

"I still can't believe it either." Steven agreed. "Feels like only yesterday that I first discovered my powers and thought Cookie Cats were connected to them. But that's not important right now, because I have a problem. Have you seen the Crystal Gems anywhere?"

"Not since this morning." Greg nodded. "Pearl got a message from Little Homeworld saying something was wrong and they went off on the Warp Pad. And that was the last I saw of them."

"Something was wrong?" Steven said to himself before he made the first conclusion that came to his mind. "Black Rutile, of course. Come on Dad, we have to save them!"

"Right behind you, sport!" Greg saluted as the father and son took the Warp Pad to Little Homeworld, which was just as barren as the temple, if not even more so.

"I don't get it, where is everyone?" Steven asked as he looked around the empty Little Homeworld. What was once full of happy Gems finding their way in life was now home to a few tumbleweeds and worried pets. "They couldn't have just vanished overnight!"

"Maybe they're all putting on a really elaborate surprise party!" Greg replied with an awkward laugh before giving it to his son straight. "Okay, you got me. I have no idea what's going on." Just then, the two heard a nervous moan, followed by a little Flower Buddy scuttling towards Steven while shivering in fear. "Oh, hey little guy. Is something wrong?"

"Dad, this is Zuli's Flower Buddy!" Steven stated as he held the little creature in his arms. "What's wrong, you little cutie? What happened to your momma?" Unfortunately, the Flower Buddy nervously shook its head before leaping out of Steven's nurturing embrace and running away. "Wait, come back!"

"I guess it must be too scared to say anything," Greg concluded. "I mean, it's not like the great big answer to all of our questions is going to fall out of the sky!"

Just then, Steven noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Above them, a streak of light was falling to Earth, immediately answering Greg's question. "A shooting star in the middle of the day?" Steven wondered to himself as he tried to get a closer look. "Wait, is that star screaming?" Indeed, the star was shrieking loudly before it crashed into the woods nearby, creating a large explosion that could be seen from Little Homeworld. "This day just keeps getting weirder! Come on!"

The Universes then raced out of Little Homeworld and took a journey to the nearby forest, the air now polluted by smoke and fire as the trail of destruction led the duo to what was once Jasper's cave, now smashed to pieces by a crashed spaceship. The two watched as a familiar black hand burst from the wreckage and pulled Black Rutile from what could've been her tomb, haggard and frantic while glaring straight at Steven. "Steven Universe, we meet again at last."

"Stay back Dad, she looks dangerous!" Steven reflexively drew his shield to defend his father with as Black Rutile lurched towards the two. However, Steven slowly realized that maybe this time, Black Rutile wasn't here to hurt. In fact, she didn't seem to even have a weapon drawn and was instead futilely reaching out to him and Greg. "Wait, something's wrong."

"Help me Steven Universe, you're my only hope." Black Rutile wheezed before she fell flat on her face, seemingly passed out from the crash.

"I don't know about you Steven Seagel, but she looks like she's seen better days," Greg said while looking over at Black Rutile's struggling body. "Shouldn't she be pretending to twirl a mustache while going all 'MWAHAHA, I'm going to kick every puppy in the world and there's nothing you can do to stop me!'?"

"Something definitely isn't right here." Steven agreed with Greg while helping Black Rutile to her feet and waking her up. "Black Rutile, it's me, Steven!"

"Someone set us up the bomb." Black Rutile woozily said as she slowly regained consciousness and quickly realized she was in the right place. "Eureka, I arrived just in time!"

"Just in time for what?" Steven asked before Black Rutile frantically grabbed his shoulders.

"Just in time for their return!" Black Rutile manically shouted. "It's been eons since we last saw them, but they found us! They're hungry! AND THEY'RE COMING!"

"Who's coming?" Greg nervously asked, shocked at Black Rutile's sudden burst of insanity before the megalomaniacal Rutile ominously turned to face him.

"The Snake People." Black Rutile muttered fearfully before the three heard a rustling in the bushes.

"Did someone say Snake People?!" Ronaldo Fryman cried as he burst from the bushes at the mere mention of Black Rutile's enemies. "I totally knew they were out there!"

"Ronaldo, what are you doing out here?" Steven asked Ronaldo, confused about whether he'd been hiding there the whole time.

"Searching for Bigfoot. What else would a hunter of the supernatural like me be doing in the great outdoors?" Ronaldo answered. "So anyways, what's this I hear about snake people?"

"Who's this idiot and what does he think he knows about the snake people?" Black Rutile asked harshly.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I somehow managed to accurately predict a good portion of Gem society lore!" Ronaldo argued with Black Rutile, utterly offended at this jab at his intelligence before Steven broke them up.

"Okay you two, break it up!" Steven said as he put the two's argument to rest. "We have something much bigger to focus on here. Apparently, all the Gems on Earth have gone missing, and now Black Rutile comes crashing to Earth rambling about snake people or something."

"My point still stands." Black Rutile said firmly. "What do you know about snake people, you fool?"

"I am so glad you asked!" Ronaldo smirked before presenting a briefcase full of information he gathered on the snake people. "Behold, the truth!" However, all Black Rutile saw was a bunch of news articles and other miscellaneous objects that seemed to her like she was talking to a complete nutcase. "Snake people, or sneople, control our government at the highest level. Look." Ronaldo then brought out a dollar bill sign while gesturing to the snake and diamond symbols. "The snake represents their hold on our country, while the diamond represents their underground mines. Or their sharp teeth! The details aren't important!"

"How does he function?" Black Rutile muttered in silent alarm as Ronaldo continued his explanation.

"However, it seems that the creatures you encountered may be invading from their home planet," Ronaldo stated. "Perhaps they were abducting other races from across the universe to fulfill their evil deeds, like maybe creating a super-diverse army to conquer the entire universe with!"

"Okay, Ronaldo, was it?" Black Rutile bluntly interrupted Ronaldo. "I'm just going to be frank with you. You're a complete idiot. I mean, snake people secretly controlling our government and your only evidence is but a scrap of currency?" She then snatched the dollar bill from Ronaldo's briefcase and ripped it to shreds. "I care little about this planet's history, but even I know this is all the claptrap ramblings of a lunatic!"

"No, my proof!" Ronaldo wailed while trying to collect what remains of the dollar he could find on the ground.

"However, I'll have to give you this." Black Rutile added. "Your description of the Snake People abducting races and people from across the universe is actually quite accurate as I've come here from Revanche 666 to tell Steven that the Snake People have abducted my minions, and they've no doubt done the same to the Crystal Gems."

"So what are you proposing?" Steven asked his archnemesis.

"I'm proposing, and I can't believe I'm saying this, we join forces against a shared enemy." Black Rutile declared, trying not to cringe in agony from making that declaration. "Steven, I urge you to assemble any remaining allies within this area and meet me in that little town of yours. The crazy theorist and I have an announcement to make."

"I can't believe I'm saying this too, but you have my word Black Rutile," Steven replied. "Wait, this isn't another excuse to plot your revenge on me, isn't it?"

"You have my word, little one." Black Rutile promised Steven, crossing her fingers behind her back as the two very reluctantly shook hands.

"Attention organic idiots of Beach City, heed my warnings!" Black Rutile commanded the townies' attention as they all gathered around her, Steven, and Ronaldo. "You may not trust me, but I am here today to give you all a warning. All Gems on Earth have been abducted by their ancient enemies, the Snake People!"

"That is right, the Sneople have finally come for us and they're stripping us of our defenses to make it easier for them to conquer!" Ronaldo added before getting a slap on the back of his head.

"No, you twit, they don't want to conquer us as far as I know." Black Rutile grumbled before her visor gave a demonstration. "The Snake People, as you should know, is a primarily gladiatorial race that has thrived on abducting beings from across the universe to fight in their twisted games. Their king is one of what are known as the Universal Lords, who are among the most powerful beings in the known universe who all lay claim to approximately 36.3% of it compared to the Diamonds conquering 63.7%. Any questions?" Black Rutie then saw someone raise their hand. "You there, all the way in the back?"

"Yeah, I got a question." Connie's voice called out as she walked through the crowd to meet with Steven and company. "Why are you here and how did you break out of prison?"

"It was because the Snake People came for Revanche 666 and abducted all the Gems imprisoned there, except for Black Rutile," Steven explained to Connie. "And now she wants our help."

"Wait, seriously?" Connie asked while she tilted her head in confusion. "Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming." Much to her annoyance, however, Black Rutile did exactly that. "Ow! When I said someone pinch me, I didn't mean literally!"

"Well, I'm sorry Mecha-lecha-chimichanga-habba-hooga-swagger, I don't get your human sayings!" Black Rutile replied, making Connie facepalm as Black Rutile didn't even come close to getting her last name right, almost like she was doing it to make her mad. "Anyways, they reside on the planet Serpentes in the Ophidian Nebula, which is unfortunately a couple of galaxies away. We're going to need a really good spaceship to survive a trip there, otherwise, it'll take ages to even reach the planet!"

"I believe I can help!" another voice said as he emerged from the crowd. To Steven's surprise, it was that strange police officer he met back in Empire City. This officer seemed all friendly whenever they'd cross paths, but Steven had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to him than he seemed. "Now, apologies for the sudden intrusion everyone, so allow me to introduce myself. You may know me as just the Officer, but that's just another name for the man I am underneath." The Officer then closed his eyes and began audibly straining as he slowly transformed from a human policeman into a large rat snake wearing a police uniform. "Ooh, transforming still kinda hurts sometimes."

"Oh, my, god!" Ronaldo gasped in utter surprise and delight. "YOU'RE A SNAKE PERSON, I KNEW IT! A REAL LIVE SNAKE PERSON RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME, IN BEACH CITY, ON EARTH!"

"Snake Person? I see you're using those old-fashioned derogatory terms for our people." The Officer laughed and patted Ronaldo on the head. "We're actually called Slytherophidians, thank you very much. It's pretty easy to get mixed up since, well, we look like the reptiles of your planet. Anyways, y'all can call me Aescul."

"Wait, there really are snake people, I mean, Slytherophidians, on Earth?" Steven asked Aescul. "I thought Ronaldo was just making up crazy conspiracy theories."

"See, I told you all they were real!" Ronaldo declared proudly before turning to Aescul. "Now then, would you care to answer a couple hundred thousand questions I have about your people?"

"Okay, I'll only answer a few, my boy," Aescul replied. "Now fire away."

"Mister, you have no idea what you just unleashed," Steven said as Ronaldo began with his questions.

"First off, do you control our government at the highest level?" Ronaldo asked.

"Yes, and no. We have several hidden agents not only on this world but several other worlds as well." Aescul answered. "However, any one of them being in charge is quite rare, but not completely impossible."

"Care to list any examples?" Ronaldo responded.

"No." Aescul declined.

"Alright, next question." Ronaldo continued. "Do you put us mammals against each other in things such as elections, sports, or even message boards for anime?"

"What? No! We don't do any of that!" Aescul exclaimed. "If anything, you humans are already very good at having conflicts with each other!"

"Hurtful, but true," Ronaldo said.

"If anything, we prefer peace and order," Aescul added. "Now then, you get one more question kiddo, so make it count."

"One last thing, do you recognize these symbols on our currency?" Ronaldo asked before presenting what was left of the dollar bill that he still had.

"Oh, it looks like our homage to our insignia! Although, ours is a bit more different." Aescul declared as he revealed a near-perfect replica of the snake on the dollar sign. "My theory is that of our earliest scouts of this planet played a role in the foundation of this country. You know, your national animal was going to be either a rattlesnake or a bald eagle, and we all know what they went with. But as for the diamond, well, I think it might be because our king was an old friend of the Gem you all idolize."

"You mean Pink Diamond?" Steven asked. "Honestly, after all we've learned about her over the past few years, I'm honestly not surprised."

"And what about those earliest scouts?" Connie added with a question of her own.

"Oh yeah, that guy," Aescul replied awkwardly. "Last I checked, one of them went under the name Christopher Columbus or something and did some pretty messed up stuff to the natives of this land. We don't like to talk about him much, no offense."

"That's okay, we don't like to talk about him much either." Connie accepted the Slytherophidian's apology. "So now that we know what we're up against, why have they been spying on Steven lately?"

"That's because we've been watching Steven for quite a while now because my superiors have been scouting Gems to bring to our games," Aescul revealed. "This was their way of getting your attention, by snatching up every Gem you know and taking them to Serpentes so that you'll eventually come to rescue them. And now, you've just about taken the bait."

"Then I guess we have no other choice." Steven declared firmly. "We're going to Serpentes."

"Uh, hey, quick question," Greg asked. "How do we get there again?"

"Allow me to offer my help!" Aescul declared as he hailed his police car, which transformed into a spaceship large enough to fit him and his new passengers on their journey to Serpentes. "Seatbelts, everyone!"

"Please tell me this is going to be a normal, non-life-threatening adventure." Steven prayed as he, Black Rutile, Connie, Greg, Ronaldo, and Lion boarded the disguised cop's ship.

"With you? No way!" Black Rutile laughed as the people of Beach City waved Steven goodbye. "Now snakeman, make it so!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Aescul obeyed the Rutile's command before he prepared the ship for takeoff. "Now then, any last words before we leave Earth?"

"I got some," Steven said as he peered out the window to face Beach City below them. "Don't worry everyone, I'll bring the Gems home safe and sound! You have my word!"

"And I'll bring evidence that'll make me famous too!" Ronaldo added eagerly, making Steven wonder how he invited himself on the journey before deciding that he already knew.

"Okay, here goes nothing," Aescul said as he prepared to blast off. "Booster fire! Full power!" he yelled before the ship left Earth behind and took off for the great beyond on what was possibly Steven's greatest adventure yet.

Elsewhere in space, a large freighter was sailing gently toward a distant planet, filled with alien species from across the universe locked away in prison cells. A hapless buglike Moarchean was banging desperately against his cell bars, crying to be returned to his family. A humanoid cyborg man with gears for fear dressed in pirate attire carved tally marks on his cell wall with the sword he had in place of a hand. An immaculately dressed galactic rockstar tried calming his nerves by performing his over-the-top dance moves. A massive, tattooed giant stood chained to the wall. An angelic woman prayed to her people that she'd be safe wherever she went. The space heroine Sylvia Spectre tried desperately to escape her confinement only to be obstructed by the collar restraining her powers, while her cellmate Envyrno has long since accepted her fate. A group of Metals waited patiently for what fate would await them. A flying woman resembling a jester played a mournful tune on an invisible flute.

But the most notable prisoners in the freighter were the massive amounts of Gems kept away in specialized cells to restrain their powers. Chief among them, Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl stood resilient as they were face to face with Captain Boa of the Jormagundr Royal Family's personal guard. "We're almost there, Gems." Boa sneeringly announced to his prisoners. "Are you ready for the Contest?"

With that, the end begins here. What awaits Steven and the Crystal Gems on Serpentes? Are the royal family really out to get them, or are they more than they seem? Does Black Rutile have anything else planned once she reaches the Snake People? And where does that mysterious Lapidarist fit into all of this? All of these questions and more will be answered in the epic twelve-chapter finale to the Steven Universe: Alternate Future series.

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven universe snake eyes #steven quartz universe #black rutile #greg universe #connie maheswaran #garnet #amethyst #pearl #aquamarine #eyeball #holly blue agate #cat's eye #captain boa

4 notes · View notes

shameonmeeguiltypleasure · 2 years

Note

i'm obsessed waiting for the next chapter of SMB 😂❤️

Thank you for the support x

I'm well aware chapter 11 is taking forever to come and I am so grateful for everyone's patience.

There's been alot of creative blockage for me lately (probs cause of priorities) and nothing I've written has satisfied the perfectionist in me or feels right for SMB.

I know everyone would be grateful and supportive no matter what I write, but it's more the characters I'm trying to please than anyone else. They really want their story to be true to THEM.... Even if it puts me in a slump ( the jerks lmao (yes, I'm the type of writer who believes the characters I write are real people with feelings lol))

I recently got a comment on SMB talking about how they would love to read more details about HOW pen felt about her suitors, Colin and his siblings convos etc.

And I honestly have the raw, more in-depth/alternative pre-edited versions of scenes saved, but am refraining from posting because it will defs influence readers understanding of certain characters and I don't want that bias to happen yet.

I'm on my 7th or 8th re-write of Chapter 11 and so far can only feel inspired/attempt writing scenes 1hour per week before hitting another writer slump.

And to be honest it's because this chapter is solely dedicated to Differentiating SMB Polin from Canon Polin.

I've had to deep dive /character study Colin and Penelope and figure out who MY versions of them were. So yeah, Sir Lee and I are still in the early stages of figuring each other out. He's a real tough character to depict because he's so..... Specific.... Very controlling tbh. He's a definite Yandere (btw defs go check out @thekatebridgerton &@daughter-of-sea-and-wisdom because their Au's are serving me during this creative slump 🤩😍🤩)

Someone described Colin as a bit Jekyll & Hyde, which is very accurate (including Penelope tbh). And for Chapter 11, it's a fight between me, Colin and Sir Lee on who's getting screen time and why. Colin's in a sad slump so all his scenes come off very....brooding (think Batman lmao) and Sir Lee is frustrated because he feels leashed by London propiety and the expectations he has to meet as 'Colin Bridgerton'. He doesn't like having to answer to Anthony (even if he's his brother) because Sir Lee is so much MORE than the third brother of a Viscount. But Anthony is his BROTHER, his BLOOD, who's done so much for him and he LOVES him. So he is trying very hard to respect Anthony's position as First Born and head of the family.

Yeah.... Colin/Sir Lee and I are having many therapy sessions lately to try get to the core of their issues and the growth we want to undertake for the future plot of SMB.....its a work in progress lol.

On the other hand.... There's Penelope/Lady Whistledown.

Canonically, JQ didn't write LW as a different character. Take away the anonymity and LW is still Penelope just parts we the readers and the ton weren't aware she had.

LW in SMB serves an equal role for Penelope as Sir Lee does for Colin.

They are Persona's created as coping mechanisms and ways to escape the lackings and restrictions of Penelope & Colin. So there's a definite self-identity issue for Polin in SMB.

The difference is London City is LW's playground (has been for 11years). This is her turf and she's also the puppet master over the ton. So of course she's comfortable asf and not feeling the same frustration as Sir Lee.

And here's a mild spoiler/ hint about Penelope.

She's MORE Lady Whistledown than she is 'Penelope Featherington the Wallflower'. You'll understand what I mean if/when you read more povs from the Featherington family (which is a little in Chp11 and ALOT in chp12).

SMB is the story of Colin and Penelope - how they met and how they end (never forget this). But for Sir Lee & Lady Whistledown it's only the beginning.

I know I took advantage of your ask to go on a rant, but I get a bit insecure about posting about SMB on Tumblr sometimes. Only because I dont want people feeling spammed with all these posts that promise alot but take forever to come.

So truly, Thank you very much for the ask cause it honestly made me smile and inspired about 1750 words since you submitted it 😂🥰✨🙏✨❤️❤️

#answered #polin #bridgerton #fanfiction #romancing mr bridgerton #seducing mr bridgerton #ao3 #the bridgerton series #netflix #bridgerton season one #bridgerton season two #chapter progress #the author rambles

13 notes · View notes

bruclarkweek · 2 years

Note

Hi I'm hoping to write some stuff for this, but the links for the faq and rules just bring me to your profile page. Do you mind putting the regular links somewhere? Thanks in advance and thanks for organising this event! 😄

hiya! sorry about that! tumblr can get super tricky with their links. the rules can be found here: https://bruclarkweek.tumblr.com/rules and the faq here: https://bruclarkweek.tumblr.com/FAQ.

Also I went ahead and attached the rules and FAQ below for easier skimming:

RULES.

1.) WHO CAN PARTICIPATE?

Anyone is allowed to take part in this event. We will be collecting the works on Ao3, Tumblr, and Twitter if applicable. Hate in any form will NOT be tolerated. Bullying in this community-centric event will result in immediate disqualification, blocking, and banning.

2.) WHAT CAN I POST?

This is a BruClark centered event. BruClark in ANY form is accepted, whether it be in capes or out of them. Please do take note that this is not a Batfam/Superfam event. As much as we love TimKon, CassKon, Dickara, etc. this is reserved for Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent *or alternate versions of them (Ultraman, Owlman, Flashpoint!Batman, etc.)

We’re accepting fics, multi-chapter WIPs, artwork, edits, and really anything else BruClark related. Please remember to tag and rate your works appropriately.

NSFW and dark/mature content is absolutely allowed. Please be sure to rate it appropriately. Absolutely no sexualization of minors is allowed.

We ask that all works be new and original. Please do not plagiarize nor reuse an old work.

3.) WHAT CAN I NOT WRITE?

Content that is homophobic, transphobic, racist, incestual, or underage will not be allowed in the slightest.

4.) HOW DO I SUBMIT?

Submissions open October 16th-22nd. Please do not post BEFORE Oct. 16th, but any time after is completely acceptable. We’d like to mention that we know how intense schedules can be this time of year. Later submissions will absolutely be welcome and treated with the same hype as all the others. Additionally, please don’t feel pressured to submit something every single day. Participate when you can or have the muse to! This is meant to be fun for everyone.

We cannot stress enough to please tag your works appropriately depending on site guidelines. Please understand that there are those out there who cannot read certain triggers. Be thoughtful towards your fellow fic reader/artist, and tag your things appropriately.

You’re more than welcome to post on any platform you like. Please give us 24 hours to reblog/retweet your work. If we haven’t after a 24 hour period, DM us!

Ao3 Submissions: Please self-add your work to our collection: Bruclarkweek2022!

Tumblr Submissions: Use #bruclarkweek2022 to tag and @bruclarkweek to mention us!

Twitter Submissions: Please tag us @bruclarkweek and use #bruclarkweek2022 so we can RT your works!

5.) WHAT NOW?

Remember to support your other fic writers and artists! We’re all working hard to show our love for this ship. Leave likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and everything else on people’s work.

Remember to enjoy yourself. This isn’t a competition. Rather, think of this as a community-building event.

***

FAQ:

1.) WHEN IS BRUCLARK WEEK HAPPENING?

Oct. 16th-22nd. We’re not accepting submissions before, but you’re more than welcome to submit after. We understand how crazy schedules can be this time of year, and want to reiterate that later submissions will be treated with all the same hype as every other entry. :)

2.) WHEN CAN WE VOTE FOR PROMPTS? WHEN WILL OFFICIAL PROMPTS BE POSTED?

Prompts were posted on Sept. 17th.

3.) HOW MANY PROMPTS WILL WE HAVE PER DAY AND MUST I INCLUDE ALL OF THEM?

We’re looking at 3 prompts per day to give you some options. You only need to include one prompt, but you can use more.

4.) WHAT CAN I MAKE?

Any kind of fanfiction, fanart, edit, headcanon, etc. is acceptable. We are not allowing photography of real people, not any sexualization of a minor.

5.) AM I ALLOWED TO INCLUDE OTHER SHIPS OUTSIDE OF BRUCLARK?

Yes! In fact, we encourage the acknowledgement of past relationships Bruce and Clark may have had. We understand and love how important Lois Lane, Selina Kyle, Talia Al Ghul, etc. have been to their growth and lore. Polyships are allowed (The Trinity, BruClois) - however please keep the focus on the relationship between Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent.

6.) CAN I INCLUDE OTHER VERSIONS OF SUPERBAT?

So long as they include Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, or any alternate dimension versions of them. This may be Ultraman and Owlman, or the Justice Lords, or Flashpoint Superbat. Other Supers and other Bats are not the focus of this challenge. No TimKon, Dickara, CassKon, etc.

7.) HOW STRICTLY DO I HAVE TO FOLLOW THE PROMPT?

They’re entirely up for writer/artist interpretation! Write/Draw what the prompt inspires from you.

8.) DO I HAVE TO OPERATE IN A CERTAIN CANON?

Nope. AUs and timelines are totally up to you.

9.) WHERE DO I SIGN UP?

No sign up necessary! Just tag us wherever you decide to post starting on Oct. 16th!

10.) WHAT IF I HAVE MORE QUESTIONS?

Please DM us or send an inbox. Questions can be directed to both mods, or Astro or Noir specifically.

*Thanks to everyone who is interested in participating.

#answered.#thanks for the question!#can't wait to see you participate :)

1 note · View note

bfpnola · 3 years

Text

Definitely one of our longer posts, but there was so much information to share. So, without further ado, Your Guide To: Abolishing the Police (The Basics). Sources are listed throughout the slides at the bottom left corner.

Thank you to the BFP Tumblr community for helping me plan out the slides. Your input is always needed as I want all voices to be heard. And as for Instagram, make sure to send us some love there!

Click here for over 1000 free social justice, mental health, and academic resources. Please share to help make education and activism accessible to all.

Image description under the cut. Alt text to be added soon to the Instagram version.

Your Guide To: Abolishing the Police (The Basics) by @bfpnola

As many of you know from a previous post on common left-wing terms & their differences:

Reform is defined as "to amend or improve by change of form or removal of faults or abuses; to put an end to (an evil) by enforcing or introducing a better method or course of action," according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

Abolition, on the other hand, is defined as "the action or an act of abolishing (formally putting an end to) a system, practice, or institution."

Reform is often used in left-wing circles concerning the institutional atrocities committed by both the police force and prison industrial complex across the globe. Reformists believe that institutions founded in discrimination can be solved by the removal of certain laws and the creation of new ones that should protect marginalized individuals.

Those who believe in abolition, called abolitionists, acknowledge that institutions founded in the blatant discrimination of others (ex. how the police force in America started off as a slave patrol) cannot be reformed or fixed and that alternatives exist.

Liberals tend to believe that the systems within our country are viable and just in need of regulation/reform.

Leftists believe capitalism and other systems of oppression (such as the police and the prison industrial complex) must be abolished and work must be done from the ground up.

Reform the Police. Abolish the Police. ->

Why can't we just reform the police?

Reforms have been tried and tried again throughout history and the truth is that reforms, such as body cameras or more training, only provide police with further funding to continue assaulting and murdering marginalized communities, specifically those of color.

Besides the annual $100 billion the police receives nationally alongside an additional $80 billion for incarceration, policing at its core is designed to strip people of their liberties. Policing creates coercive environments where genuine treatment and rehabilitation is impossible simply because such goals are incompatible with punishment. Instead, violence is encouraged.

Policing also fails to recognize that crime rates are highly linked to poverty. Due to housing discrimination, a lack of generational wealth, and a general lack of resources and community maintenance, individuals of color are forced to struggle to meet basic economic needs.

It's an endless cycle. Poor social conditions and economic instability make it hard for people to meet basic economic needs. To meet those needs, people may turn to crime. People who can't afford to pay bail spend time in jail and may lose their jobs. And then with a criminal record, people can't get jobs and have no social safety net, leading them back into poverty and crime. This doesn't even begin to address how police disproportionately target minorities to begin with. ->

What about just defunding the police?

At its core, defunding is a singular step within police abolition, not reform.

As abolitionists, when we say defund, we mean boldly taking chunks out of the policing apparatus, stopping policing’s encroachment into schools, hospitals, transit systems, and other parts of civic and social life. We mean taking away weaponry, tanks, and other tools and training that further scale-up police capacity.

Defunding policing is also about reprioritizing and rerouting funding into life-giving community structures.

Defunding policing must happen alongside decriminalizing communities that are targeted by policing and imprisonment, and investing in solutions that actually prevent, interrupt, and transform harm. On the contrary, policing’s function is to bring harm into the communities it targets with the goal of social control.

Defunding the police doesn't mean just reallocating resources to "community-policing partnerships." It's time to remove police completely, and defunding is a step towards that. As for reforms, they merely fund the police further and don't stop the deaths of people of color.

For example, the murder of Eric Garner despite the NYPD passing a policy against chokeholds. Or the murder of Daunte Wright, despite the passing of the George Floyd Law Enforcement Trust and Integrity Act and a separate Justice in Policing Act of 2020. ->

Who is affected by policing?

Intersectionality is defined as an analytical framework for understanding how aspects of a person's social and political identities combine to create different modes of discrimination and privilege. For example, someone who is a Black queer woman faces different experiences regarding discrimination and privilege compared to that of a straight Black woman, or a white woman, or a Black man. They all hold different experiences because of the ways their identities intersect.

Intersectionality is extremely important to identify within our activism and our abolition, because policing affects a multitude of communities.

For example...

The LGBTQ+ community & the disabled community

For decades, the LGBTQ+ community has been beaten and brutalized by law enforcement. More specifically, LGBTQ+ people of color, especially Black transgender women, suffer disproportionately from structural issues in law enforcement. For example, more than 40 percent of women who are incarcerated identify as lesbian, gay, or bisexual, compared with only 5.1 percent of all US women. 58 percent of transgender people reported some form of police mistreatment in their encounters with law enforcement. Even worse, while incarcerated, more than 30 percent of LGBTQ+ people experience sexual victimization, compared with only 8 percent of heterosexual people. Transgender people who are incarcerated are 5 times more likely to be assaulted by correctional staff and nine times more likely to be assaulted by other incarcerated people.

Half of the people killed by police have a disability, be it physical or mental. Disabled people of color, specifically Black people, are especially at risk due to the stigma within communities of color surrounding mental illness as well as the low likelihood of even being diagnosed to begin with due to medical racism. The danger for people with mental illnesses and other disabilities is also born of police departments’ “compliance culture." Anyone who immediately doesn’t comply is attacked. This approach doesn’t work when police interact with someone who doesn’t react in the way they expect. What if police yell at a Deaf person, not realizing that they can't hear? Or if someone with a physical disability is told to lay down flat on the ground but can't? What then? Those who lie at the intersection of disabilities and race are seen as a threat in the eyes of law enforcement and consequently, are murdered.

A question to constantly consider: who else might be affected? ->

I understand! But how would abolishing the police work? Who would even protect us?

Violent offenses count for only a fraction of the 11 to 14 million arrests made every year. Many of these crimes are simply due to a lack of resources or mental health services. So instead, let's defund the police and create unarmed mediation and intervention teams, filled with mental health professionals and formerly incarcerated individuals.

We can also work towards decriminalization. For example, why must sex work suffer under a moralistic view of sexuality? Or what about drugs? Addicts should be met with proper medical care for their own health, not criminalization and treatment as a danger to society. Those in authority define "criminal activity" according to their own needs, often shaped by capitalism as well.

Restorative justice, also known as reparative or transformative justice, understands accountability as a community issue. Successfully used by Indigenous and Afro-descendant communities for centuries as well as a few cities right here in America, restorative justice asks us not to punish, but to repair harm through cooperative community bonds and processes.

Wondering about homicide? Most violent crime can be drastically reduced simply by reducing poverty, the glorification of violence, prisons and police, warfare, and other coercive hierarchical systems like the patriarchy.

Rape, domestic violence, and other forms of social harm? These can be reduced as well through the denormalization of abuse, restorative justice, stronger community bonds, and "harm-free zones" which share common resources. ->

How does capitalism tie into police abolition?

Capitalism is the current economic system America exists under, where the bourgeoisie (those who own the means of production, both machines, and human labor) sell the goods and services produced by the proletariat (the working class) in order to make money. Capitalists, individuals who have full and exclusive authority over the private establishments they own, try to produce as cheaply as possible in order to maximize profit. Under capitalism, the vast majority of people will inevitably suffer as they do not have the means to produce on their own and are forced to work for wages that do not even suffice for most basic living necessities.

The police and the prison industrial complex both receive immense amounts of money in order to criminalize, brutalize, and capitalize off of as many human beings as possible. Salaries rise each year as more money is allotted to these systems of oppression instead of towards community services and resources that could diminish crime rates more effectively than police and prisons have ever proven.

It's time to invest in our communities. Being a police and prison abolitionist means being anti-capitalist. Being anti-racist and actually wanting to protect communities of color means being anti-capitalist. Being anti-ableist and actually wanting to protect the disabled community means being anti-capitalist. Being anti-sexist, anti-homophobia and -transphobia, being anti any of these coercive hierarchies, means being anti-capitalist. Capitalism empowers oppression. It's time to put forth effort into looking at other economic systems, such as socialism or communism. We simplify the differences between the two and their benefits in our "Common Left-Wing Terms" post.

How does anarchy tie into police abolition?

Despite its negative connotations, many of the beliefs of abolitionists align with those of anarchy. Anarchy is a political ideal that supports the absence of government and absolute freedom of the individual. Anarchists have 6 agreed-upon principles: autonomy and horizontality, mutual aid, voluntary association, direct action, revolution, and self-liberation. While we delve into further detail in our "Mutual Aid and Anarchy" post, these principles can be best summarized as:

Autonomy and Horizontality: define yourself on your own terms, no one dominates anyone else

Mutual Aid: bonds of solidarity form a stronger social glue than fear, support your community

Voluntary Association: associate or don't associate with whomever you wish

Direct Action: accomplish goals directly rather than depending on representatives or authorities

Revolution: overthrow the elites who enforce coercive hierarchies (ex. white supremacy)

Self-Liberation: you must be at the forefront of your own liberation, freedom must be taken

Being an anarchist is not required to be an abolitionist, but their values line up quite well. In terms of autonomy and horizontality, voluntary association, and even revolution, abolitionists want to overthrow the police in order to protect marginalized communities and allow incarcerated individuals the chance to heal and be free. In terms of direct action, abolitionists have set, actionable steps (such as divesting or demilitarizing communities of color) that do not need to depend on representatives or authorities unless chosen otherwise. In terms of mutual aid, restorative justice and other community-centered tactics are integral to the protection of the community. And in terms of self-liberation, those who have been incarcerated or targeted by the police are, in fact, at the forefront of the police and prison abolitionist movement.

Are you an anarchist? Just food for thought. ->

Key Takeaways

Reform means to improve through better methods; abolish means to formally put an end to a system/practice.

Reforms only provide the police and the prison industrial complex with further funding, allowing them to continue to brutalize people of color.

Policing is not a broken system. It's working as intended.

Policing is built to inflict harm on the communities it targets, with the goal of social control.

Prisons are a way of blaming an individual for what is structural and force us to acknowledge why people are desperate in the first place.

Crime rates are linked to poverty. Provide people with adequate resources and crime rates will decrease.

Defunding is a step within police abolition, not police reform.

All levels of intersectionality (the LGBTQ+ community, the disabled community, etc). must be involved in your activism for we are all affected.

Mediation and intervention teams, decriminalization, heavier emphasis on mental health, restorative justice, and the deglorification of violence, abuse, and war are all alternatives to the police and the prison industrial complex.

Being a police and prison abolitionist means being anti-capitalist.

Capitalism empowers oppression.

Abolitionist thought heavily emulates anarchist thought.

Abolition centers protection and healing, rather than harm.

Further Reading

Are Prison Obsolete? by Angela Davis

The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander

13th Netflix Full Feature

Understanding Capitalism by Vivek Chibber

Who will protect us without police? from Anarchy Works by Peter Gelderloos

Six Ideas for a Cop-Free World by José Martín

The Master's Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master's House from Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde

Wage Labor and Capital by Karl Marx

Mutual Aid: A Factor in Evolution by Peter Kropotkin

Resource Guide: Prisons, Policing, and Punishment by Micah Herskind

The school-to-prison pipeline, explained by Justice Policy Institute

Criminal Justice Facts by the Sentencing Project

What Prison Abolition Actually Looks Like by Barry Lam

Imagining safety without prisons: Seeking a holistic solution to violence in Detroit by Sebastian Johnson

All of these novels, movies, and articles, alongside audiobooks, textbooks, interviews, and 1,000+ other resources, can be accessed for free on our website: betterfutureprogram.org or just through our linktree: linktr.ee/bfpnola

441 notes · View notes

seesgood · 3 years

Text

can we very gently talk about call out posts / culture really quick? not in a judgmental way, but in like a: i just want to pose a thought and explain why i’m never going to buy into it and why i wish it would become less of a trend instead of more of one? and i’ll add the disclaimer here: i totally get not wanting certain people around you for various reasons, that is all your prerogative. that’s your comfort level. but in emphasizing “your blog should be a safe space” we’re kind’ve losing sight of the fact that the rpc should also be a safe space, and as much as your comfort and safety matter, so do other people’s. and not just the person who hurt you, but the third parties and other mutuals and 99.9% of people who are not at all involved in any way in whatever happened. so, anyway here goes, read it or don’t, we all have different opinions or reasons, i just want to be heard:

people are allowed to change. think back to who you were last year. two years ago. think about the stuff you said when you were seventeen, or twenty-one, or hell whatever age you were. current-you would probably cringe at the kind of stuff past-you had to say. because you grew. you learned. you had life experiences. in hindsight you have the freedom to be like “oof yeah that was not the best version of myself right there damn i don’t want to be like that again.” the growing trend of ‘here’s a 10+ page google doc complete with out of context screenshots that sometimes date back to like 2017 or earlier’ makes this kind of change impossible. because right there, you’ve just frozen a person in time, probably not at their best, removed any and all amounts of context, and put it on the internet and let other people judge it for themselves.

so that leads into another point that i want to just kinda present to the community at large: the act of documenting behaviors and storing them for months / years at a time, in itself creates a super unsafe environment, not just for you, your friends, the people who have hurt you --- but also for anyone else that isn’t at all involved in whatever happened. like, for example, i like to think that i’m a pretty nice person. i actively try to be a nice person. am i sometimes not having the best day? have people definitely caught me in bad moments? oh hell yeah. but am i, as someone who tries really hard to be nice and welcoming, constantly thinking through every message i send to someone knowing that a) i could have a reputation that makes them read into context that isn’t there and that could contribute to them misinterpreting words i meant in a different way, b) very aware that every post i make, ask i send, message i send can at any moment be screenshotted and posted and taken out of context and either serve as someone’s only opinion of me or pile on to someone’s existing opinion of me? yeah. so in my experience, and based on people i’ve talked to, we now have this thing where you can be surface-friends wtih a lot of people, but if you want to survive in the tumblr rpc you should really only have 2-3 people that you really trust that you can actually talk about shit with.

and lately i’ve been seeing a resurgence of posts on my dash about like “bring back xyz in the rpc” or “the reason the rpc is like this is because of xyz” and i both agree and disagree with a lot of this, but primarily i think the reason the rpc is Off lately is because everyone and their cousin has a DNI, which is --- again --- your decision and i understand and respect that, but while you know the context of every name on that DNI, other people don’t. and to be honest: other people don’t really care and honestly maybe they shouldn’t care. --- and don’t get me wrong, your friends should care if someone has hurt you. that’s important. but joe billy bob who just wants to write their character with yours is going to read through your rules, they’re going to see “do not interact with me if you follow with or interact with these people you’ve never heard of and if you want me to tell you why just message me” (which no one is ever going to do, i’m sorry to say). and say, joe billy bob also followed that other person because they were like ‘omg this blog looks cool’ --- now joe billy bob, who just wants to write cool plots, is suddenly the middle-man in some type of drama that they do not understand, and maybe they’re able to remove themselves from the situation, but even then it’s still in the back of your mind.

this is getting long. it’ll be longer, but let’s take a brief break for me to remind you that in some cases, it’s definitely good to give your mutuals and friends a heads up when someone has done something really, really bad. like, remember x amount of years ago when some dude was like ‘i’m gonna make up a new person and say they died by suicide as a social experiment’ or ‘hey this person actively tries to force very triggering plots about abuse / rape / incest onto people and has been doing so for years and does not seem to change their ways no matter how many people try to educate them’ that’s shit people should probably know about. and it’s also okay ( in my opinion ) for your friends to be able to message you like ‘hey i saw you’re writing with x and i just wanted to let you know i had this experience with them’ if that’s something they feel comfortable doing. and if they are comfortable with you still having the autonomy to make your own decision regarding the person.

i’ll be honest, for a second: i’ve been part of friendships and groups that have turned really toxic for one reason or another. a handful of times. there are probably people out there that are like “yeah this chick is really fake and manipulative and etc, i was friends with her back in 2019″ which, okay. yeah. i’ve definitely done shit and said shit that was not the most representative of who i want to be and who i want to become, and you probably have to. because we are human beings and we are a product of our social groups and the community around us. and you shouldn’t be chained to a version of you that isn’t you anymore. people change. they grow. you don’t have to like them, but you should respect that sometimes people don’t mesh, and that doesn’t mean any of them are bad people, it just means the experience was bad.

a few additional notes i would like to make but i’ve already gone on way too long:

90% of the callout posts that i’ve seen and the DNI’s that i’ve seen can, in my opinion, be classified as a friend group thing. you were friends with x, x did something, now y and z aren’t friends with x anymore. pain is a very, very real thing and people hurting you should never be minimized, but at some point i just want you to remember that not every friendship is going to end happily, but both you and the other party should be allowed to move on and grow better, healthier friendships after. rehashing Friend Group Gone Wrong instances removes that ability for not only person x, but also person y and z.

you putting out a callout says just as much ( maybe more ) about you than it does about the other person. which sucks. because i’d like to think we all have great intentions, and i’m not saying that you should swallow your pain, but it might not be the kind of thing that impacts the community at large, and maybe you should try to find a better way of working through it with a trusted friend(s)

i’m going to be very real and very blunt on this one: literally no one cares. i say that with love. i’m good friends with people who have each other on their DNI’s. establish a baseline of respect and ‘i’m not going to say anything to them about you and vice versa because there’s no need for me to do so’ and move on. but seriously. no one cares. most outside people read callout posts because they like being in the know about the drama, not because they actually care.

person a and person b who are mentioned in the DNI / callout aren’t the only ones who are going to be affected. your friends, your mutuals, your writing partners are now all put in a weird spot where you have to pick sides on an issue you know nothing about and shouldn’t have to know anything about. you’re asking people to choose sides on an issue they cannot fully understand, and that’s not fair to them or to you. and it drives great people away. and then we all lose out on having more awesome people in the rpc.

you’re entitled to your safe space, but this is a public platform and you are also responsible for maintaining your safe space. you shouldn’t put it entirely on other people to do that for you. you can block, blacklist, make up funny names for, or spitefully erase from your many anything and anyone that you wish. but you shouldn’t make your friends do it for you.

there’s always an inherent power imbalance when any kind of drama occurs between those who have more followers / friends / connections and those who do not. and the smaller blog is always going to suffer a little bit more because they don’t have people blindly coming to their defense.

bad moments, bad experiences, bad decisions DO NOT equal bad people.

allow people to make up their own mind about something or someone

anywho, if you read through this whole thing i think i owe you financial compensation. but also thank you for reading / listening / considering. even if you rolled your eyes through the whole thing like “stfu lia” that’s fine. i’m just presenting an alternative thought. i’d like to once again state: i’m not judging you if you’ve made a callout/DNI or if you’re on a callout/DNI. like i literally don’t care. and frankly, in my opinion, i shouldn’t have to. because i, and you, and your friends, and your mutuals, and your non-mutuals should be allowed the space to make up their own opinion and mind on something or someone without being told that there will be consequences if they don’t agree with you. set boundaries. communicate in healthy ways. you don’t have to forgive the people who have hurt or wronged you, but you also don’t get to decide that their actions make up 100% of who they are as a person, or decide that that is the only side of that person people should get to see.

#ʟᴇᴛ’s ᴛᴀʟᴋ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀᴜʟᴇs ⸺ psa.#/ long post cw.#when i say long i mean LONG #i could do an entire dissertation on this #i could do a ted talk #but ys know #if anyone wanted to do some ahem non-light reading this morning #*jazz hands*#( if you want to reblog this monstrosity you definitely can )

181 notes · View notes

jjungkooksthighs · 3 years

Text

Claws of Carnality | jjk (7)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: When you and your alpha rivetingly reunite for the Offering Ceremony, you are thoroughly twitterpated in his display of intent to you that colors your entire being with affection for him, but you will soon find that he isn’t the only one that has his sights set on you...

Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of blood, mentions of a mark, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scenting, mating rituals and hunting

A/N: What a ride this chapter has been. From the many drafts I had of the original version that went through various reworks before I initially posted and then onto the deletion of that from Tumblr only for an alternate version to be made in my efforts to better guide understanding of the story, this chapter has started from one destination and landed somewhere across the other side of the world.

I hope that this version is easier to digest after the heaviness of the original and much work has been done to ensure that. All feedback that was given to me on the previous rendition of this chapter was greatly appreciated even if some of it hurt, so those who reached out, I thank you. I hope that you all will continue to let me know what your thoughts are as I thrive on comments and feedback that show to me what you guys really think about my work. Please make me a happy author and share your feedback with me on this revised version that I made just for you guys!

Also, you will notice the gif I used this time is different. That is because that look is what Jungkook has somewhere in this chapter (because lbr here I am a slut for Black Swan Jungkook). There might additionally be an insert that looks somewhat familiar to something we have all screamed over, so that will be interesting to see if anyone catches what it is.

For my readers that enjoy auditory stimulus while they read, I wrote this chapter entirely to Jungkook’s “My Time” and I implore you to listen to that while you read because it really sets the mood and perspective I had in the sentiments that I wanted to convey for this part (not to mention I fucking love that song like a child adores their favorite toy). You may find while listening that a certain part resonates especially deep with it. Bonus points to anyone that catches the special allusion!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9

Suffering in silence amid the agonizing absence of your alpha, every second spent without him is dragged on by cruel hands of time that languidly pass with lethargy in the wake of the sun’s slumber.

Despite the powerful paroxysms that wrack every fiber of your being, your heart paddles agog with anticipation while you wait anxiously for your alpha as your irises sweep like a whirlwind through the woodland in the distance in their frantic frenzy to find under their storm the bringer of the tempest of emotions that rain over you.

The knoll erected just before the greenwood is certainly an insolent impediment that blocks and bars your sights from penetrating pervasively into the forest’s opening as you whimper in the damned denial of your mate.

You hardly notice the profoundly proliferating mound of quarry in front of you that the same beta tugs and tows from the forest in an accumulating aggregation that far surpasses the small, sad excuses for the other piles of game that other betas pull from the forest in their lugging of the conquered prey of each alpha that they serve.

The name of this particular one drifts away from your comprehension in the turbulent gusts that your alpha spews over you even in your separation that cloud your mind of all but him.

By now, the sun has lain itself to sleep below the horizon and, in its place, the moon has awoken augustly from her own chamber to seat herself atop her throne at the sky’s crest. This night, she is tainted red with the crimson of the lifeblood within all creatures under her care in a rare occurrence that is otherwise known as the Blood Moon.

Occurring only twice a year among the winter and summer solstices, the striking shade is symbolic of the wild impulses that drive all living beings and even the stars pulse like veins through the sky’s soma in their own frenzied palpitations.

The moon’s subjects of omegas, alphas and betas all throng tightly together in clusters behind the garden of newly presented omegas that have blossomed with maturity, the cheerful chattering of all the wolves of your pack blooming around you in the warmth of excitement that spouts from them like water. You are rooted like a flower to the ground amidst the field of other omegas that have recently presented, your limbs planted there by the elder who had brought you from the woods.

It had been an onerous omission on your part to abstain from hissing at her when her bony, knuckled hands had grasped your arms in the utter dissatisfaction that had erupted like a volcano within you in the urge to tear her off of you in the lack of heat that her touch- which had been so definitively and determinately not your alpha’s- had been incapable of warming you with.

It had been so unlike what your alpha easily instilled upon you in his calefaction that rolled off of him in waves and, in wanting only your alpha’s hands on you, you’d had to bite down on your tongue to keep from releasing the noise of dismayed dissatisfaction and risk being begrudgingly berated for an unruly display.

Once she’d ambled away, it was your secret that you’d pulled the furs your alpha had given you closer around you to bask in his scintillating scent, the pelt closing comfortingly around you to offer you some much needed incalescence while some, but not all, of the tension pressing down on your shoulders had lifts away.

Niva, who stood behind you, had giggled as she asked, “Are you that gone for him, darling?”

Your cheeks had reddened in embarrassment before you’d looked back at her to quietly mumble, “I am. Irrevocably and unequivocally.”

You watch with bated breath as alphas begin to ascend from over the hilltop that stands to attention just before the woodland as you all but tremble in anticipation to find your own among them.

They are all cleaned of the blood, sweat and tears from the prey they slayed and most are dressed in exorbitantly expensive threads that have likely never before been worn before today.

They are donned under furs from which the alphas acquired in hunts years past in the aged, tanned colors of them all that are draped over each wolf’s shoulders as they come to stand in front of their designated deposit of game they have proudly procured in effort to offer it to their desired partner amidst the line of omegas that have been arranged opposite of them.

It is tradition that the sins of death be wiped away from them before an omega's virtues of life can fully cleanse the alpha that would receive them.

Incurring impatience is what has you whine out for your alpha that still evasively eludes your visage as you searchingly seek him while your wolf cries for the only one that could possibly quiet it as a familiar figure separates from the amalgamation of agglomerated elders that have accumulated along the west and east sides of the stage before she takes her place on the beamed boards that circularly coalesce into the timbered stage.

Amidst the jovial jabber that percolates through the air, the lead elder, who is also your grandmother, raises her hands over her head so that the moonlight drips down onto her upturned palms as she shouts, “Children! Tonight, we commemorate the adulthood that our blessed mother of the moon has acknowledged in these youth before you,” the lead elder lowers both arms to gesture to you as fondness showers over her before she softens, “And among them is my beloved grandchild, Y/N, who hails from the purest of bloodlines and who has been the sole caretaker of our pups and livestock in her dutiful and devout service to her pack since her very juvenility. Let us commend both her and those she was raised alongside in this momentous moment!”

There is a thunderous applause that bursts roaringly around you as exhilaration energizes you anew whilst every wolf in attendance animatedly hoots and claps with a delighted dynamism that has you smiling happily as the sounds bound through you with the liveliness of a sprite.

It leaps through you ceaselessly and when you breathe in to give it more room to prance around within you, that’s when your lips lift in gratified gaiety in the unmistakable undeniability of the scent of myrrh that skirrs insatiably forth until it has found and enveloped you in its mighty musk as you sigh with satisfaction at the realization as it wantonly wafts around you.

Jungkook, your precious mate, must be close by.

The knowledge has your heart skipping a beat as your wolf bays amidst the kindles of joy that light themselves within you in the rapid recognition of the presence of your other half somewhere in the distance.

In the cesspool of odors of all the other wolves that odiously stink and reek through winds around you, it is a taxing task to attempt to locate the origin of the aroma you have come to adore ardently.

All you can do is readily revel in the piquantly pungent incense that incites your baser being with inclination to rejoin with its mate and to find solace in the euphoric utopia of his waiting arms once more.

Some of the lead elder’s words are lost to you amongst your alpha’s essence that wraps willfully around you in a brume that brushes eagerly against you while the ovation that, somewhere along the way, has gradually quieted while the last of the alphas have found their allocated allotment next to their corresponding heaps of seized, slain prey.

They are organized according to rank with the first place that heads the row of alphas belonging to the wolf boasting the highest station amongst his dynamic as their chief in charge of them all through the title afforded to him through his strength, power and bloodline.

Such were no match for any other alpha that had been unwise and unfortunate enough to face and bear the brunt of his sharp claws in battle that ended in loss to any that opposed him as the rightful pack alpha.

It is Jungkook’s locus at the vertex of the line that is empty and while the sight should distill doubt’s inklings within you, your alpha’s reassuring redolence is there to caress you in the swathing surety that he’s near. In your endeavored expenditure to catch a glimpse of Jungkook, you fail to detect that there is not one desolate domain that is devoid of an alpha in front of you, but four.

Still, you’re hardly at the liberty to discern that within the olfactive haze of your alpha’s pheromones that effervescently enfold you in their pleasing particles.

When your irises chase the lingering trace of him that is everywhere and nowhere at once to no avail yet again, you pout and, in the distance, a pair of golden eyes glint with mirth at the spectacle of you that is so incredibly and charmingly cherubic to their beholder.

A knowing expression momentarily crossing the lead elder’s face, your grandmother steps back before smiling fondly at you before her eyes carry their focus across the line of omegas that have been bestrewn along the grasses to your right before returning to you as she proclaims, “My dear grandchild, I welcome you and your fellow omegeans to the maturity that the wolves within you have flourished so beautifully with. May the most worthy of alphas earn you this night under the approving nod of our maternal moon that shall watch us from above,” she gives a revering salute to the celestial body above as she crosses her fingers over her heart in a spherical motion before bowing and when she stands once more, she trumpets, “With that, let us begin the Offering Ceremony!”

Upon her final words, she hobbles haltingly back down the wooden stairs connected to one side of the stage with some aid from the other elders in the age that has stolen away the strength of her feeble, frail ligaments as another round of applause fiercely flies through the land on the wings of the air that carry it as good-natured gossip joins it.

The stage is emptied but for a moment before an alpha emerges from the arched lumbered and logged mouth opening onto the platform, the tongue of timbered planks spanning outward in a circlet as the wolf takes his starting position for his celebratory dance before a flurry of flutes cast their music from the forelimbs of the wooden body under the deft fingers of the pack’s musicians.

You do not recognize this wolf and it takes only a second for your attention to sway elsewhere as your alpha’s scent draws you back to him when its mists cling in their sedulous sumptuousness to you.

It is tradition that all ceremonies and events initiate with performances meant to embody the heart of the occasion. Through their artistically aesthetic displays, tangible forms are given to the impalpable sentiments that the pack amasses in its harnessing of sensibilities toward such a jovial jamboree in the dances that are done to reflect those avid attitudes of each wolf imbued innately with such enthusiasm.

Following this, alphas are the first to proffer a present to their desired partners in declaring and dedicating the winnings of their hunt to their chosen omega. In exchange for the bounty, the omega then gives something of their own to their alpha as a symbol of intent to be paired exclusively with each other.

If there are offerings that exceed those of a single alpha for one omega, challenges or duels can be instigated and thusly proctored in official matches in their efforts to win an omega.

Such battles end either through submission or when one wolf is left incapacitated in the incapability to rise from the ground through the wounds that always leave their bodies in tatters through the violent nature of the fight for a mate.

The losing combatant forfeits their rights to claim an omega if they are bested by their opponent and the omega is not given a choice to accept the victor even if the alpha that wins them is not the one they had hoped to have, for it is a rule that the superior wolf who dominates another and exhibits that they are the more capable provider to the entire compound is the worthier being in their ability to protect their omega.

Following this, an intended pair of wolves each bestow matching marks that they paint onto each other in the blood of the strongest, most fearsome prey that an alpha robbed of its life in the honor of their omega.

After that, they are free to depart to a den the alpha is to have carefully crafted in preparation of his mate where the two are then meant to consummate their bond that will seal them together forevermore, for the brand of tooth marks that the two leave on each other through the throes of rapturous ecstasy would bind them to one other until the end of their days in the ultimate deed of giving themselves to each other through such an intimate act.

Daedal devotion linked the delicate affairs of courtship that you had always thought was so romantic and you can’t help the thrilling sensation that cascades over you at the prospect of what is to come alongside a particular alpha that has captured your mind and soul in his very palm.

His scent swirls enticingly around you as your irises, once again, flick along the endless expanse of the forest beyond while you squint as if that would help you to better see into the greenhood that grasps him away from you. Try as you might, you still cannot glimpse the apple of your eye from the fanning ferns careening from the underbrush as you whine once more in his hedging of you.

As his tang drapes itself over you, it stirs in its insistence his voice that echoes through your mind to remind you, “I will return for you and when I do, I will make you mine forever.”

Your anxiety is quieted in his quintessence that settles like a blanket over you to warm you in his stead as you continue to scour scrupulously around you for any smidgen of him that might deliver you to the truth of his whereabouts, your focus narrowed now in the thin beam of light that luminates your mind only with the purpose of finding him.

Lost in your fossicking forage for him as you are, the first wolf that had arrived on the stage is replaced by another and after that, two more.

By the time that six have gone, you’re no closer to illuminating your vision with his candescent luster as you peer longingly at the vacant spot that parallels your own where your alpha should be standing as yearning pulls at your heartstrings in his devastating absenteeism as you tug his pelt tighter over you.

When the yakking and chatting of the wolves behind you is blown out like a candle in the current that sweeps them through in awed astonishment at the same instant that the pheromones lacing over you thicken in headiness in their willful wiles, that’s when your irises are whisked away, lured as they are to the baited source of it all.

Your breath hitches when golden eyes pierce your own, fiery fervor flashing in them amidst the ferocious flames that lick hungrily at him from all directions in their passionate parchedness to welcome him into their warmth.

His irises rove ravenously over you, heat coiling low within you as your wolf preens at the attention while you do the same.

Covered in the color of soot, Jungkook’s lower half is ashen with cindered linen that clutches with cohere to him in every slew of thew cording his legs. Adorning his middle is a blackened buckskin belt that bears a perfect hourglass shaped waist and already your salivary glands are fructuously fertile in their gushing of spittle within your jaw that drops when you drink in the overtly obscene shirt that is provocatively provoking in its transparency that elicits the subsequent swoons of omegas around you.

It leaves nothing to the imagination and, like a second skin, vaunts every delicious dip and ridge of his mouth-watering musculature.

It is decorated with patterned patches in the shapes of burned brambles that are woven across the material meant to inspire illicit impurities in all that are fortuitously fortunate enough to behold your alpha in how it sinfully sticks to him. Encircling his neck like a thick collar, the shirt bands around him and over it, a blazoned blazer engulfs him. Like it has been seared through by fire, it is open to reveal his clothed chest in its entirety.

Tendrils of dark hair fall over his face in dangerous, wild wisps that curl amidst the humidity that overtly obsess over them.

You can hardly contain your own ire of want that simmers through you at the sight all of that and, when you trail your visage back up to his eyes, they are brightened with amusement while he dares to flick a sculpted brow as if to tease, “Like what you see?”

You lick your lips as a whimper traitorously escapes you while a wolfish grin lifts at his own before the symphony of flutes and lutes harmonize in the opening notes of their song and they sing soulfully for a few meters.

When your alpha begins his damning dance to the thrumming tempo of the waiata whispering through his ears, you already know you’re going to fall even more for him in an impossibly irredeemable descent that you have no wish to ascend away from.

Your alpha sidles forward with purpose pervading his slow movement, his irises burning torridly into your own with the finer feeling that fully fulgurates them before he spins on one foot while the chords of both instruments twirl together with him as he whirls around to face you once more.

The melodic music is, like your alpha, insistent in its eagerness to call commandingly to you in the way that its trill lowers and soon deepens with the same tantalizing temptation into his darkness that captivates you to him in your pure light.

In his meticulous motion, his fingers close around the end of his jacket that he’d caught in an open palm upon completion of his turn only to strum his fingers through the air with the other hand as if he were stroking the strings of an invisible lute between his arms.

He draws his free hand backward before smoothly and flowingly sweeping it forward only to then arc it behind him in a circular kinesis, his chin following his hand like it is tied around his wrist by twine. He repeats this once more, his eyes never straying from yours in the heated intensity that warms your very being as he stares only at you the entire time.

Like a match being struck in various vertices over him, every movement sparks the flinted flicker of white that births from it the embers of an inferno amidst the small moonstones that have been adroitly added over his blazer.

When he steps forward to be bathed by the scarlet rays of the moon that color him in the passion that he dances with, that’s when he vocalizes the sentiments for you that move him in a lyrical lilt that is in sound synchronicity with the instrumental tune he’d written himself.

As he takes in the way that you melt under the smoldering charcoal of affection for him, he can’t help the words that fall freer than rain on a spring day as he allows his emotions for you to pour out of him while you thaw him with your own rays of radiance that glisten in your eyes and in the way that you fondly look on at him like he’s the only one that exists in your world.

His baser being demands that he show to you what you mean to him and so he does.

He sings how rapidly his life had gone by and how lonely with lorn he’d been in his wait for his mate in the incertitude of whether he’d been correct in his way of living without you while his arm lifts so his fingers point toward the sky that, through its unstopping hands, had turned the cogs of time.

“Oh, I think I was in yesterday ‘cause everybody walk too fast, don’t know what to do with, am I livin' this right?”

He chants to you about the time that had been stolen sufferingly away from you both in your childhood and adolescence that had barred you both from each other in the forbidding rules of the compound that outlawed with onus your unavoidable union.

“Why am I alone in a different time and space? Oh I can't call ya, I can't hol' ya, Oh I can't…”

He proclaims the struggling strife that had wracked him in being forced to remain apart from you for so unbearably long in his cover behind the trees while he’d watched over you as his soul had cried for the only one that could complete it in the days he’d spent following the orders of his father.

“Sometimes when I’m gasping for air, I wear my hat low and keep running, yeah, I don't know where I go, even if it's opposite of sun…”

He chronicles with vivid verve the verdict that he has brimmed blisteringly with in your brilliance that shines as bright as the stars above while he pumps his closed fist gently against the heart that thumps only for you as he continues, his hand dragging through the hair you’d pulled on in effort to induce his mercy in the wood before he runs his other palm along the thigh he’d watched you so beautifully pleasure yourself on while he’d been blessed with the view of your damned delight atop of him.

“One time for the present and two time for the past, I’m happy that we met each other now til' the very end…”

He declares to you that you are, after so long, the Eve that he will always escape into the verboten oasis to find as he jumps high in the sky, his spirits soaring for you as he watches you reach dotingly for him before he lands to extend a hand of his own to you before spinning in a circle like a clock to once more face you.

“Oh, I will call ya, I will hol' ya, oh I will and yes you know, oh yes you know that I will...”

Enraptured in ardency’s hold over you, Jungkook’s gleaming gold irises are streaked so profoundly with earnest elan that, as they sink into the riveting depths of your own, they scintillate with silver like the genial moon that you are to him as it washes over his eyes the farther that he descends into your deep devoutness that floods you for him.

In the irrefutable irrepressibility of your own sentiments for him, your own eyes dye themselves gold like the sun that is your alpha to you.

His dulcet words phosphoresce the burgeoning seedlings of affectionate attachment to him as he nears you along the lip of the stage that is speckled with candles that cast their light over him like sunbeams themselves that, through their heated kisses, leave him shimmering in an ethereal golden glow that radiates out into the night that has befallen you.

You do not know if a more mellifluous voice exists in the world than his own with the way the chords of your own heart are struck with each soulful solfege that is uniquely and undeniably him as his eyes seek nothing but you, who has brought so much lustrous light to his sky.

Neither of you pay any mind to the collective series of shocked gasps or astonished huffs that are emitted from the converged crowd behind you.

In the stuttered stupefaction that fastens itself to them like moss to a tree, all eyes are on you and your alpha that take notice only of only each other amidst the mutated metamorphosis that had transfigured the irises of both of you to match those of the other through the gift of sight that marks two soulmates in their belonging to one another.

Such an ocular occurrence had not been recorded for over seven thousand years in the rare paucity that the moon granted with the declining diminishment of purebreds descended from the lupi antiquis.

Thus, in the episodical exceptions where the celestial body did bestow such an innately intimate connection between two wolves, it was said that their zealous zest for each other would guide them in their reigned rule over the other wolves that would bring prosperity and peace for generations to come under the moon’s favor.

Yet, under the music’s metrical melody, its sonorous spell casts a coddling cocoon over you and your mate until the silken thrum hums around only the two of you as its fibered filaments shield everything but the both of you from each other’s vision.

Your mate’s vociferous voice fades after the chanted crescendos ravel into decrescendos until the collection of euphonious sounds wrap wholly and completely around you as his body moves with the beat of the organ that pumps only for you within him.

He plants both feet to the floor before a hand trails down his body in a vinelike display while one leg is uprooted off the wood beneath him to swing in front and behind him as if he’s embedded into it and can’t bear to relinquish himself from the earth that grounds and supports him like you do.

Like the celestial bodies whose hands that turn time, he easily epitomizes this when he steps forward, his arms turning in a spherical motion akin to that of sun’s path through the realm above during the days it brings before the moon journey in her brother’s stead as the siblings of the sky steal away the lost moments that had been wracked away from you both amid their ceaseless passing.

His wrist then flicks outward as if he’s trying to halt the spindles of a chronometer from ticking precious time away from him as his irises flare frenetically into your own with the fervor that flecks them.

You whine for him as he moves, his fervent feeling made so precisely palpable with the way his shoulders roll in circles along with the crux of the heart sitting in his chest that hastens its already quickened pace as he glimpses the tender smile lifting along your lips.

It sets his very soul afire with contentedness before one and then the other hand pounds against each pectoral only to then sweep upward to tangle through his hair as his legs splay outward so that each thigh bulges boastfully against the fabric while his wolf howls when he hears you suck in a breath.

It is one that sputters with a stammer from your lips in the emotion he’s nurtured inside you and drawn forth from the deepest recesses of your body that wails needily for him, your wolf baying with want to be closer, nearer and together.

The sound you make lathers itself like honey over his ears and he’s sure he’ll never tire of that with how breathlessly bewildered you had seemed all because of him.

He’s swiftly besieged by his baser being to show to you how much you affect him and to display to you what you do to him in his deep-seated desire for you and, never one to bypass his urges, he does not cage it.

Once his hands have streamed through his luscious locks, he trickles them over his face, irises still settled along the substrate of your own as his fingers drag downward to collect the lapels of his blazer before, in one fluid motion, he sheds it from his shoulders as a loud whimper dribbles from you while you absorb attentively the salacious sight before you.

His hair has fallen crazedly over one eye in curved, thick tufts as an iridescent iris dappled in the chroma of the orbs that oscillate through the sky during the night and day. Through his continued movements, the mingled union of a silver and gold buries itself as deeply as it can within your depths as the offending piece of clothing trails lower until it pools at his wrists.

With a devastating grin, he puffs out his chest with proud pride, a sheen of sweat shining under the thin material amongst dark, dusky nipples that nip against it in protest of its tautness that chafes against them.

Instantly, your legs are rubbing against each other without your mind’s notice as he smirks when your essence that is spawned by your sex spumes over you before its titillating tinge rises in the air to collect under his nostrils.

Your rousing spice seasons every recess of his body in the relish that causes his pupils to dilate in craving, his member growing hard within his trousers for you as he pulls his lip between his teeth with a growl before gyrating around and when your irises meet once again, he pivots to the side at the same time his fist opens and closes while he outstretches a hand for you.

Your limbs are slowly sapped of their strength with each measured movement that he makes and when he runs toward you until he’s dangerously close to the edge of the stage, you think he might reduce you to a puddle on the ground beneath him when his hand returns to the corpulent collection of muscles cording the crus of his leg as he whisks one palm along his thigh while he rotates his ankle inward to have every tendon jump in a torturously teasing sight while his free fingers curl inward before him as he repeats it all with the other.

Saliva pools in your mouth as he sleekly and confidently moves with the impressively intricate series of footwork that he glides impossibly closer to you with and with one final twirl and fatal arch of a brow, he shirks the blazer off him entirely while his ligaments lower him down to one knee in sharp, quick movements that have his chest caving in and out while he descends, his head tipping back to bare a neck sluiced with sweat in a sight that has you drooling in want to touch and feel him against you once again.

Jungkook leers longingly at you when he slides forth onto his other leg with one bent underneath him while the other is jutted out like the perfect throne that you’d gladly fall to your knees for.

He looks like a god that you would readily worship and yet, he dances like a demon.

It is with a lethal dark flash of his eyes that he snaps the fingers of one hand to the final strum of the lute while the other trails damningly along his chiseled body until it settles over the swelling cock throbbing for you that you whine with the unyielding yearningness that has captured every inhibited iota within you under his command.

You are utterly enthralled as his lips move to mouth, “All of this was for you, my omega. Now that everyone knows what we are to each other, no one will dare to keep you from me,” he watches with interest the way that your lips part in his effect on you and curses in how far away you are from him as he utters, “Come to me once I’ve gone away from here, pretty. Your alpha requires your presence after being denied of you in the forest. I will be waiting anxiously for you.”

When he stands to sink into the shadows behind him that the light cannot permeate, your high-pitched warble still has not dissipated.

You only realize this when a spindly, bony hand is laid over your shoulder to pull you back and away from the pack of wolves around you while the familiar and oldened voice of your grandmother tries to break through to you in the stupor set by your alpha.

When you don’t respond to the many redundant repetitions of your name, she squeezes your shoulder to throatily call out, “My, my, my… you are besotted with that alpha that names himself Jeon Jungkook, my dearest granddaughter. I hadn’t the foggiest idea before on why he asked me to allow him to dance, but now I see that it was for you. I suppose that is to be expected, considering everything."

It is the mention of your alpha that grapples your attention away from where you’d last seen him as you tilt your head in question before you quietly squeak, “I am very taken with him, but what do you mean by that?”

She laughs, “Grandchild, these eyes may be old, but I saw within you and he the gift of sight that the moon mother above bestowed to you both that, by her blessed design, declares each of you as the other’s soulmate. Even the gift of olfaction was there, for this nose can still smell the taint of sex that he, along with you, produced during his performance.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn in embarrassment while you stutter, “Grandma, h-he made me do it. I c-couldn’t help it.”

She only pats your head to say, “It is nothing to be ashamed of, grandchild. The moon chose him for you. It is only natural that you respond to him in such a way. Incidentally, what did he say to you at the end of his dance?”

Mortification has you worrying at your lip before as you fidget as you shyly whisper, “He asked that I go to him. I believe he wishes for us to have some time alone together before the offering.”

Your grandmother nods in understanding and instead of finding any trace of dissenting disapproval in her countenance, she encourages, “Then go and join him, my granddaughter. You must be swift, though,” she steps back to gesture to the row of alphas that stand before the stage, “There are only a few performances left before you and he must return for any challengers that may wish to win you from him, though I don’t see how that will be possible as smitten as you appear for that alpha that you call Jungkook.”

Gratification steeply swills over you as you embrace her, “Thank you, grandmother. We will be quick as the wind, you’ll see.”

She waves you off as you scurry with hurry beyond her toward the wooden dwelling that houses the elders, for it secondarily serves as the temporary domain of the dancers that begin the performances where they are allowed to change clothes and prepare in the spare rooms that are located along the first floor.

You do not notice the shift of silhouettes in the distance as you scamper along, your mind swimming in the waters of your alpha that have soused you so.

It is only when you are scuttling along the steps that lead up into the den that you hear the whistle behind you before it is followed in a voice saturated far too saccharinely with sweetness that has your tongue souring in its wake as it muses, “Damn, Taehyung. You weren’t lying. She really is such a divine little thing.”

In the hormones heaving through you, they insistently incur your instincts that are stirred with stimulation only for your alpha and in simultaneous sequence, the repellant revulsion of any wolf that is not him in your baser being’s acknowledged acceptance of Jungkook as your mate.

Your wolf kecks under the miasmatic fumes of malodors that are bitter and acetic as they burn your nostrils, the stench of alphas heavy in the air as you remain in your place with your back to them while you try to stifle the gag that sits low in your throat as you manage, “What do you want with me? Why are you here and who are you?”

You recognize one as Taehyung’s, but the other is unknown to you.

There’s a mawkish chortle that bellows, “You do not know of me? You will, omega. Soon enough, you will. All of you omegas eventually do.”

The words lift the hairs at the base of your neck in the cloying sugariness of them that clump heavily together in their mission to rot your insides as the swish of grass grows louder in the closing distance between you and the stranger that is an obstructing obstacle between you and your alpha.

The unabating advance does not terminate and when you furtively glance over your shoulder to see a hand inching toward you, you cringe with the trace of a hiss tinting your voice, “Do not touch me. My alpha is very protective of me and will not be merciful if you toy with what is his. Your friend over there,” you flick your chin back toward the source of the foul odor that you know to be Taehyung’s, “he was not so lucky when he felt it just to try to take me from my alpha.”

The stranger makes a sound of consideration, “Hm, a creature with some bark to her bite. I like that.”

It’s as though you’re being backed into a corner, your wolf yelping in protest as you try to rein in your emotions that beg you to beseech your alpha that is so close, yet so far away from you right now. If he does not come for you, it is only a matter of time before your claws will come out in defense.

Fingers stretch toward you and before they can make contact with your skin, you bare your teeth to sibilate, “It seems you do not understand. It was only I that could calm Jungkook- who is bound to me and I to him by the moon above- through the rage that overcame him when he was ready to maim Taehyung for foolish disobedience,” you turn to pierce your perpetrator with a cautionary glare as you forewarn, “The wounds that were left in Taehyung’s shoulder are but minor lesions of what my alpha will scar you with should you dare to incur the wrath of my mate.”

In a momentary lapse of an instant, you think that you derive in your detection the distinct aromatic attar of your alpha nearby, but it is fleeting as are the contours that are casted of a darkened outline that, so quickly you think it may have been a trick of your eye, briefly block the light filtering past the opaque aperture of aged glass next to the entrance of the den.

They disappearingly depart almost as soon as they arrive with only a sliver of a scent that remains and without a doubt, there is only one wolf it could belong to in its special singularity.

It had been Jungkook, your alpha.

You wish you could be with him and wonder if an elder had gotten to him before you could, but you’re not given long to ruminate on either of those despite the sudden stoutness that is spritzed over you in Jungkook’s oceanic presence that ebbs and flows faithfully alongside you.

In spite of it all, it is Jimin who stands before you when you look down on him. He is clad in bloodred silks that contrast clashingly with dark smudging around the sides of his eyes while pewter colored hair hangs loosely over his forehead with the oils that must have been used to carefully style it while he cheekily checks you out much to your discontented dismay.

“What you say is of little concern to me, Y/N. I always get what I want and you will be no different,” he says.

You have seen him only a few times before during his performances and had once thought him to be beautiful as a doll, but now you can see where his stitches have become loose in vainness that bursts at his seams.

You take a step back and away from him, your alpha’s presence pouring itself onto you through the remnants of his smell that douse his confidence over you as you cross your arms to chide, “It is a pity your looks have made you so conceited, Jimin. You have become spoiled and ruined by them, it seems,” you harden your gaze at him, “I am not like everyone else and I do not wish to have anything to do with you because I am already promised to Jungkook, who is your pack alpha that you must obey.”

One side of his lips lift up his irises hoggishly digest you from head to toe as he decides, “It’s precious that you believe any of that is enough to stop me,” he climbs one step slowly before ascending up the other until he is eye level with you, “Spend the limited time together that you can, little omega. It will be over soon enough when I reap you from him and harvest the most fruitful crop this fucking pack has ever had and plow you until you’re bursting with my seed instead of his.”

Your alpha has never spoken to you with such disregarding disrespect. It irks you with anger that reddens enflamed within you.

You grimace at that, disgust damningly withering your insides in its blight as you sneer, “Try it, Park Jimin. You will never win against him. When you lose to him like I already am assured that you will,” you lift your chin in defiance, “you’ll regret allowing that minuscule cock of yours to rule over your tiny, pygmy brain.”

That earns a titter from him as he replies, “What a little spitfire you are. No matter,” he gibs, “I will tame you soon enough.”

Obstinance consumes you in its angry wildfire as you scoff, “As if you ever could. Good luck with your attempts that shall only end in bitter failure, for I will never be yours. I belong to Jungkook and there is nothing you could do to change that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Jimin smiles so wide it’s almost nauseating with how much his lips can twist as he backs away with a quip coming from between them, “When he loses to me-“

“He will not be defeated by the likes of you. This, I know to be true,” you narrow your eyes in certitude’s credence that your blood sings with.

“If I do not win you, then Taehyung will. Nonetheless, we shall see, little omega. We shall see,” his vexing voice dims in deliquesce as the moonlight regressively recedes while the two prowling wolves remit themselves into the shadows of utter umbra that swallow them from sight.

You stand for some moments counting contrived breaths hindered by your ire that had smoked and combusted within you to block your airway from effectively expelling the blazing emotion and it is only when your chest no longer aches with the stressed strain to contract that you set in motility once again to make your way into the elder’s den.

It doesn’t take you long to locate your alpha in the perceptible path of pheromones that lead you to him and there is no havering hesitation that stymies its stall of you from opening the oaken door before closing it as it groans in its senile senescence from the effort of such work.

Any negative sentiments that Jimin had left brewing immediately disintegrate within you as you ogle openly how, with his back to you, your alpha damningly divests from his body the shirt made of pure sin in its tempting taunt to you.

He pulls it from his middle slowly and torturously drags it up to reveal skin soaked by the sun and burned by the claws of combat, the serried slew of muscles lining his shoulders swelling savagely in his mannered motion and only when he lets it fall limply on the floor do his eyes find your own through the mirror he ostentatiously oxidizes you through.

Golden irises specked with silver sear into your own as one brow arches up only for him to rumble out, “Enjoy the show, pretty? I know I did.”

#werewolf!jungkook #werewolf jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #alpha omega bts #alpha jungkook x omega reader #alpha!jungkook #alpha jungkook #dom!jungkook #dom jungkook #bts abo #jungkook #bts #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub

791 notes · View notes

actualaster · 2 years

Note

Hello! I am sorry to bother about this, but could you explain what is going on on this tag ban, please? I came back from Christmas and I am not sure got it right.

From what I read around who have ios have a new ban, is that it? I also some lists and random words were there like g1rl and is that true??

I am sorry to bother you, I am really confused.

Thank you !

No worries!

I'll do my best!

First, be aware that this is brand new and confusing to all of us, so there's a lot of uncertain and wrong info because we're learning as we go since this was JUST implemented.

So, here's what we know

Apple is doing something with content guidelines, basically what you're allowed to include in your app if you want it on the app store

Tumblr has to comply with these guidelines if they don't want their app yanked

In order to comply, Tumblr has created a rather long list of tags that will simply not show up on iOS devices using the app (though they're largely accessible via Android using the app, desktop, or using a non-safari browser to use the mobile version of the website)

Tumblr Staff has claimed this is a temporary intermediary measure and they're working on better solution

The list contains everything from actual words inarguably linked with pr0n, s3lf-h4rm, graphic violence/g0r3, etc. to nonsensical stuff like qu3u3, as well as a number of disturbing entries like r4c1sm and d3pr3ssi0n.

Any blog marked sensitive--even if it was incorrectly flagged--is no longer viewable at ALL via iOS app

People are employing a variety of workarounds such as 1337, alternative wording, straight up not tagging, and using a "." at the end of a tag (as of answering this ask, these work--don't know if that will be changed)

This is NOT the first time such purges have happened and is especially not the first time they've hit tags used by people such as disabled folks and PoC and other marginalized groups to discuss day to day life and challenges we face.

Anything beyond this is speculation, or relies on user reporting.

Some folks have reported being shadowbanned--that is, they cannot be tagged and you cannot search for them or see their posts in tags even if those tags are permitted. (As I have seen ay least one major blog that is generally quite trustworthy reporting this, and Tumblr has absolutely done this in the past, I'm inclined to believe this is occurring at least in some instances but don't know if it's directly linked with the tag censor or just bad timing)

It is currently unknown which, if any, words will get you shadowbanned if you use them in the body of a post rather than simply in the tags--hence one reason you may be seeing a resurgence of 1337 and other workarounds.

There are a variety of theories floating around about why it happened, including "pr0nbots interact with popular posts so they just nuked popular tags instead of trying to solve the pr0nbot issue", "somebody during the apple review process found pr0n when searching the tags", "certain content such as r4c1sm discussion isn't considered family-friendly", "they just banned the most filtered tags", etc.

Due to previous content purges and tag bans (which are cross-platform), a number of us are concerned that at least some of these tags will end up permablocked regardless of which method of accessing Tumblr you use

The banned tags seem to shift to a degree, some getting added or removed. (Some of them have been banned for much longer but it's only more widely being discovered now)

Some users have reported certain tags no longer accessible when using non-iOS app methods to access. It's unclear if these were newly added cross-platform, if the site is just bugging out again, or if they're actually tags that are from previous purges and people are only just now realizing it's banned

So basically it's the latest wave of the ongoing surface-sanitization of the internet which we've seen across a variety of other social media websites, and we don't know yet what will be permanent and what won't and there is a lot of anger and resentment because for the longest time--despite previous purges--Tumblr was sort of the last safe haven where you didn't need to employ these sorts of workarounds to avoid getting in trouble.

All it's doing is incentivizing making it harder for people who need to filter tags by causing people to use difficult to read tags, weird alternatives, or just entirely not tagging at all.

It's a mess, and we won't know the full fallout until we hear from Staff again.

#questions for kage #anonymous #tag censor '21

9 notes · View notes

stylinbreeze60 · 3 years

Note

HI!! for the ask game: I, K, N, O, X thank you! have a lovely day/night!

I may have gotten so busy I completely forgot about these. Whoops

When I shared these questions that someone sent me on discord, I didn't realize I'd shared the same batch of questions on tumblr a couple of years ago. So, this gives me an opportunity to revisit some of the answers.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

Whenever I take plane trips, I look up travel-themed fics to read en route. Yes, I'm the one who likes to read fics set on airplanes while on an airplane.

K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

I think I've answered this before by talking about the unpublished alternate ending to Chapter 6 of Life Hereafter, where (in the alternate version) a vulnerable Tsukki spontaneously kisses a vulnerable Yamaguchi and gets a less-than-thrilled response.

So let's go for my angstiest published fic: "Impossible Choice," a dystopian au featuring Iwaizumi giving Moniwa an ultimatum to either murder his friend (Futakuchi) or have himself executed.

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write or finish for you?

All of them? (No, just kidding.)

It really would be nice if my "Next Big Thing" wip samples could all get finished by somebody, since I could never finish them all. If there's any fic I'd like to see finished though, it'd be a certain unpublished BokuAka kids fic (before you go uwu at how cute that sounds, it's set in a children's hospital andaasafisofa). I ran into some roadblocks with it, requiring more effort to fix than I was willing to put into it, so it's on indefinite hiatus in my drafts.

O: How do you begin a story--with the plot, or the characters?

The more I pondered this, the less the question made literal sense actually? Because it's highly unlikely I'll start developing plot beats without having characters in mind by that time. So I'm interpreting the question as, do I come up with a premise and then assign characters, or do I decide I want to write certain characters and then make a premise?

So, I took all 70 of my posted fics and designated each one as either starting with "premise" or "characters," and the results actually surprise me:

Premise: 35 Characters: 35

Most of my early fics originated from a desire to write a fic with a given premise. Since the end of 2018, though, I have been accepting prompts (Usuri Drabbles, Bad Things Happen Bingo) and participated in a few exchanges, all of which force me to write a fic about a given character/pairing, which account for most of the "characters" fics.

So in sum, with a few noteworthy exceptions, I tend to start "with the plot" unless it's a request.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Ah, the infamous question. I do try to restrain my impulses (contrary to how I portray myself on discord sometimes), but lately it's been...

(Poor boy. Why...)

#haikyuu #asks #shooting the breeze #shibayama yuuki

8 notes · View notes

themightyastroboy-blog · 3 years

Text

MAY 15, 2021

Okay, I haven’t posted in this blog for awhile now. Mostly because of other interests that have taken over my top spot.

But I still think about TMAB from time to time, and I still want to make it a real series on Netflix!

HERE’S WHERE I OVER EXPLAIN MYSELF WITH UNNECESSARY INFORMATION, SO STOP HERE IF YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THIS STUFF!

My ADHD has this thing where I hyper fixate on things like shows or games. I call them interest spots, and they tend to change spots after 1 or 2 years.

As of the time I’m typing this, these are my current interest spots.

Friday Night Funkin: Has a story I’m developing...

FNAF: AKA my FNAF IRL/FFA films.

The Might Astro Boy: Contemplating about whether the finale of Season 2 should be a separate season 3. It will not replace the real season 3, but it’s an alternate version of the S2 finale that MUCH LONGER, and has the Endoskeleton (aka Shadow) being the main threat.

Now certain interests can come back to memory or end up being a one time thing. One time interests like Time Squad, The Beatles Cartoon and Mickey Mouse (whether it be the Christmas special or The Road to EPCOT CITY) have two reasons.

They don’t have much material to work with

I haven’t gotten around to revisiting them.

FNAF use to be in this category until November of 2020. The VHS tapes brought me back to a simpler time till they took on a vibe of their own; trying to catch up with the series again; I looked back on what I created in 2017, and decided to make adjustments to the story of FFA and lore of FNAF IRL.

This is why TMAB took a back seat. And with the changes I’ve made, not writing it down, it’s now made some things more confusing to explain.

Anyways, I’ve think I said enough here. I will try to make posts, even if I don’t post much to Tumblr as I use to.

Thank you and stay tuned!!!

#text #update

8 notes · View notes

bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

Note

Reader is a noob sexually (and her body is sensitive), is a shy introvert, and is a bit petite. She and Adachi have become lovers recently. One evening after Adachi comes back from work he finds reader in his apartment horny and turned on. She begs him to relieve her. I'd love if it had dirty talk, degradation, some biting, and rough sex. Omg please please please

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

This checks off most of the boxes for the request if I understood it correctly. Also, I don’t really think Adachi would be the type to give someone a key to his place, but the alternative is ‘Reader is a bit yandere and picked the lock’ and I didn’t think that matched up with this well. Thank you for your patience, I know it’s been a while since this request was made! Summary Reader invites themselves into Adachi’s apartment while he’s away at work. Adachi punishes them for their shameless, though it might just be encouraging the bad behavior. Tags/Warnings Biting, Creampie, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Established Relationship, Misogyny, Name-Calling, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Sex

Mercy (F! Reader/Tohru Adachi)

“Ugh, what a crap day.”

Adachi approached the door to his apartment, feeling tired and bitter as ever. On one hand, he was happy to be off shift and not have to worry about behaving like the overly nice guy society demanded. On the other, he knew it wouldn’t last long.

His train of thought and speech screeched to a stop as he noticed a light shining from his apartment window. “Did I leave that on?” His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. It wasn’t like him to forget something like that. He didn’t need to be paying extra for power he wasn’t using.

Torn from his thoughts, Adachi was on guard now, focused on the apartment. He decided he hadn’t left the light on, so who had? Had someone broken into his apartment? Out of all those they could have chosen, the home of a police detective seemed the poorest choice. Neighborhood hooligans causing trouble, maybe? He couldn’t be sure.

He crept to the door, finding it still locked. The befuddled look on his face deepened even further. Had it been him after all? Unless… He shook his head, finding his key and unlocking the door before pushing it open tentatively. He cast a wary glance around the kitchen the door opened into. No one. Not a soul to be seen, and nothing in the room looked awry. At least, not until his eyes swept over the sliding door adjoining the kitchen and his bedroom, which he noticed was barely ajar.

He moved toward the sliding door with a long, purposeful stride, though quietly. He slid open the door with a loud noise and a flourish. His eyes widened when he spied a figure sitting on his bed that popped up as the doors slammed open. He wiped the surprise from his face when he realized who it was that had made themselves so comfortable on his bed.

“Tohru, you’re home. Finally,” you greeted. You stood there, looking genuinely glad and relieved to see him, dressed only in a loose shirt and panties. Adachi was as perplexed as ever, abruptly remembering the key he had given you to his apartment. “I’ve been waiting for you,” you confessed happily, though something desperate lingered beneath the cheer.

“Waiting for me?” He asked. He reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, expecting to see a missed message or something stating your intent to come over and wait for him to arrive back from work. No missed calls, no unread messages. Nothing.

“I...I couldn’t stop thinking about last time.” Your voice was low, meek almost, as if it were embarrassing to admit, and you cast your eyes to the floor. Adachi said nothing, feeling as if you weren’t finished speaking, despite your hesitant tone. Not that Adachi wasn’t used to you being shy, especially admitting certain things. “It’s been driving me crazy,” you finished, looking him back in the eyes.

When Adachi observed the noticeably wet spot in your panties, it hit him what you were alluding to. The confusion took a backseat to pride, and he couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh? Is that right?” He asked pressingly, willing you to go on.

You swallowed nervously, hesitating as if trying to pluck the right words from the air before you spoke. “Y-yes. Whenever I try to go about doing something else, the memory... just comes right back to me,” you explained. There was a neediness creeping into your tone. “I tried, um, taking care of stuff by myself, but…” you stopped, unsure how to continue. Stating it so plainly was a mortifying idea.

But Adachi wasn’t going to let you off easily. Especially when you had come over to his apartment just to wait for him because you needed him so badly. You were going to fess up one way or another what you wanted from him, even if he already knew from context.

“But what, baby?” His speech had some of the warmth you heard when he was in town, in public, but the cool and alluring tone beneath it belied a very different mood.

The fake warmth soothed you enough to confess more. “It’s...it’s not the same. It has to be you. It has to be your hands… has to be your cock.” The words coming out burned as hotly as you knew your face did. “I need you, please… Tohru,” you trailed off again, the words getting stuck in your throat.

Your heart pounded even faster in your chest. It had already been screaming, protesting your brazenness and warring with your desire. But you needed relief and only Adachi could give it to you. You recalled the saying about it being easier to ask forgiveness rather than permission, but now standing there feeling like your face was on fire, when there was no taking it back, you weren’t so sure. Adachi never had been the most forgiving person in the time you’d been together, after all. But he didn’t seem mad now. Perhaps that should have been more frightening.

“C’mon, keep going. I wanna hear more about what a needy little whore you are,” Adachi insisted. The mocking tone and degrading term was something you were familiar with from him. It excited you as much as it unsettled you.

You took in a steadying breath that rattled in your chest. Speaking lewdly so boldly was new to you. Hell, so much of what you’d learned from being with Adachi was new to you. “I… touch me, Tohru, please. F-fuck me, I need you so bad,” you finally said. It amazed you that you hadn’t spontaneously combusted by now.

Adachi, crooked smile inching wider, stepped further into his bedroom, closing the sliding doors with a shuffling sound and moving toward you. You made to meet him in the middle of the bedroom, but he brushed past you to stand by the bed, leaving you looking on in confusion. “Hmm, as hot as that is, I don’t think you’ve earned it,” Adachi concluded, turning to face you.

Protests sprang from your lips immediately, unthinking. “B-but, Tohru, please, I—”

“Shut your mouth, dumb cunt,” Adachi snapped venomously. You licked your lips anxiously and did as you were told. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. You come over late at night, uninvited, without a single word, and expect me to fuck you?” There was an indignant incredulousness in his tone, but something else just beneath. “I think you need to be taught a lesson,” he said. The previously surprised and then neutral gaze he had given you had turned narrow and cold.

“W-what do you mean?” You asked genuinely.

“Come here.” The command was short, providing no room for negotiation, but that didn’t stop you.

“Tohru, I just—”

“ Now , you stupid bitch,” Adachi snarled, his patience wearing thinner. You hastily made your way back to the bed until you stood beside him, watching keenly, a light tremor coursing through you. Of fear or excitement or both, you weren’t sure. “That’s better,” Adachi said, tone much less sharp.

He raised one hand to the curve of your hip, letting it lay there almost gently, and you sighed. His other hand lifted to your mouth where he absently pressed his thumb to your lips. You gave in to the pressure quickly, letting the digit slide past your lips and swiping your tongue over it, before sucking at it.

“Now, just how should I punish a selfish little whore?” He stroked over your enthusiastic tongue, pressing down hard and thrusting his thumb further back, making you nearly gag. “Ah, I think I’ve got it,” Adachi declared, a glee trickling into his voice. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and his touch abandoned you altogether, making you whine. “Get rid of those,” he demanded, prodding at your clothes.

“Yes, Tohru, anything,” you agreed, eagerly stripping and discarding them onto the floor in a heap. Your trembling was even more evident when you waited before him fully bare, though the chilly air of the room didn’t help.

“Now bend over,” Adachi commanded, with a nod of his head to his bed. “I want to see that tight little ass.”

You nodded dumbly, stepping around him and bending over the mattress, burying your hands in the sheets. You didn’t look back at first, trying to regain some control of your pulse and the shudders that wracked your body. Adachi pressed close behind you, and you squirmed ticklishly away from the hem of his blazer and tie as they trailed over your skin.

He lay one palm languidly on the swell of your ass, caressing reverently for a moment and enjoying the heat and softness of your skin. His other hand imitated it, before rolling over and clamping onto your hip opposite the first.

“How much did you touch yourself while you waited for me, huh?” Adachi asked casually, as if it were a simple, not absolutely embarrassing question to answer.

“I-well, I—” Your voice cracked and rang out in a surprised yelp when Adachi lifted the hand groping your ass away and brought it down harshly onto the sensitive skin. “S-so much! But it wasn’t—” Adachi’s heavy hand broke your speech again as he swatted your ass a second time, making both cheeks tingle and sting. “But it wasn’t enough! I need you . I had to come see you!” You cried out, voice shaking, the spankings only making more wetness pool between your legs.

“Yeah? And you couldn’t be bothered to tell me?” Adachi seemed most upset by your audacity. He raised his hand in another smack, sharper this time, the sound of skin-on-skin resounding in the bedroom and you shouted. “Guess I shouldn’t expect a whore like you to have the brains to think straight,” he degraded in a hiss, giving one cheek a harsh squeeze.

“I wanted to s-surprise you—aah, fuck!” You cursed when Adachi struck you again, the spankings coming quicker, giving you less time to recover.

“Is that so?” He sounded unconvinced.

“Yes, Tohru. Please, I just want you, I need you,” you begged. “I ca—” The next slap on your ass was the hardest yet, ripping a strangled sound from your throat. “I can’t cum without you!” You shouted, desire and pain straining your voice.

Yet giving Adachi what he wanted was as much of a bane as disobeying. It just made him more cocky, invigorating him to torment you and draw out even more lewd confessions. “Oh yeah? And what if I didn’t want to let you cum?”

The spankings paused as he spoke, as if he wanted to allow you the clarity to take them in. A particularly violent shiver rocked you at the obscenity of his words and the thought of being left with the burning need between your legs untended and ignored. “What if I just wanted to fuck your cute little mouth when I’m done here and send you home?: He threatened. He punctuated the sentence with another hard smack to your ass and you whimpered.

Tears burned in the corner of your eyes, frustration and pain and something vaguely pleasurably smoldering beneath both. Already your ass stung and throbbed, and you knew it would bruise luridly the next day. Beneath you, despite the brace of your arms supporting you, your thighs quaked, your knees threatening to buckle and dump you face first into the sheets.

“No, Tohru please, you have to—” you started, but Adachi cut you off again with another vicious spanking.

He grabbed a fistful of hair in the hand that had held your hip, jerking your head back and making you wince at the strain of the angle. His lips met your ear, and his words made the hair on the back of neck stand on end as yet another shiver seized you.

“I don’t have to do anything, slut.” he said nastily. “You’re my little toy and you’ll take what I give you and thank me when I’m done.” He stopped, and his grip loosened. “Maybe if I feel good enough, you can even cum.”

Adachi let his fingers slip from your hair, the hand on your stinging ass moving away, too, and he shifted closer. The cool fabric of his pants and even colder metal of his belt buckle against your burning skin was a relief, though you still squirmed from the sensation. Past the press of the fabric, you clearly felt how hard Adachi was despite his angry demeanor.

You didn’t realize he had been expecting you to respond until he seized your chest in his hands, tweaking both nipples cruelly and leaving a hard bite on the curve of your neck and shoulder, growling in your ear again. “Well? Answer me.”

“Y-yes, Tohru. I-I’ll take it all. Anything. Everything,” you agreed demurely, your voice shaking along with your body. All the cruel stimulation set you on edge, rattling your words even more than your nerves normally might. “F-fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured under your breath as Adachi continued to roughly toy with your breasts.

Adachi stood straight, his palms leaving your chest and retreating to your ass again, His fingers snaked down to your soaked lips, spreading them open and admiring the slickly glistening pink within. His eyes flickered for a second to the wet spot left on his slacks from where they had been pressed against your slick.

“Look at you. Dripping wet already and I’ve hardly touched your pussy,” he shamed. He was careful not to let his fingers slip further in, as much as he wanted to. “What a pathetic little whore,” he spat out, and you made a soft, desperate sound that only confirmed his words.

“You should be happy I don’t just leave you high and dry right now,” Adachi supplied, as if you ought to thank him for his mercy. But I’ve had a long day and I could use the relief. So consider yourself lucky.”

His touch abandoned you again altogether, and you heard the distinctive sound of his belt buckle clinking, coming undone, and the rustle of his slacks as he disposed of them. Adachi let himself indulge finally in the wetness pooled between your thighs, seeping down them. He slid two fingers easily between your lips, gathering the fluid there and making an appreciative noise as it glistened on his fingers. He raised his fingers to his lips, quickly cleaning them before pressing himself up against your ass.

You winced, the skin still stinging, but you couldn’t help but feel excited all the same at the touch of his hot, bare skin on yours. You cried out again when Adachi grabbed your sore cheeks in both hands, kneading savagely. He thrust himself between your pussy lips, but not inside, coating his cock with your essence. You gave a soft moan, a mixture of hurt and relief, and whimpered pitifully. His cock was so close to where you wanted him, yet with the mood he was in, you wondered if Adachi intended just to antagonize you.

One indecisive hand moved away and back to your chest, pinching a nipple so hard more tears sprang to your eyes and you let out a gasp. “Aaah, Tohru, that hurts,” you complained in a wavering voice strangled by tightness in your throat.

“Good. Maybe it’ll teach you something,” he said, a mean, husky undertone of excitement edging into his voice. “Next time you touch yourself, thinking about me, you tell me,” he warned, bucking his hips and sliding slickly through your lips again.

The tears broke, rolling over your cheeks, feeling cool in contrast to your burning face. “Yes, yes, I swear I will next time, Tohru. I swear,” you promised. Anything to end your punishment and persuade Adachi to bury himself in the needy place he was already so close to. But he wanted to be crystal clear you understood.

“You wait until you’ve got my permission before you come barging in here,” he started. “I’ll fuck your brains out when I want. You’re my shameless whore to use when I want to get off. Have I made myself clear, baby?” There was that gentle term of endearment, mixed in again with the mean names. And yet it felt the most biting of them all.

You nodded your head frantically in compliance, biting your lip and fighting back the sting and the desperate need assaulting your nerves. It wasn’t enough to satisfy Adachi though, and he prompted you to speak by once more by squeezing your ass and your chest sharply. You nearly yelled your answer, obeying the ache, “Yes! I-I’ll only come over when you want me.”

That seemed to be enough. “Good. Now that we’ve got that cleared up and you’ve got me all worked up…” Adachi stopped, pressing his cock more firmly against your dripping heat to emphasis the effect you had on him, “I think it’s time I fucked that needy cunt of yours.”

“Please…” you whined in a pitiful, breathy tone. Despite all the torment, the crude names and rough treatment, you craved him.

Adachi moved against you roughly, cock slipping through your folds again until the thick head pressed against your entrance. He didn’t bother taking his time or savoring the stretch, entering you, fast and rough, all at once. You groaned and shuddered again, the need burning higher the satisfying relief of feeling him hot and hard inside you. You whimpered his name, fisting the sheets tighter and arching back into him.

When he drew back, taking the wonderful fullness with him, you could have cried all over again, but you weren’t left wanting for long, and he slammed back home and filled you to the brim. The motion repeated, his hips rocking against yours carelessly, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, melding with obscene, wet noise from your cunt and the raspy, shaky moans pouring from your mouth. Adachi’s low groans and numerous swears under his breath joined your voice as he pushed himself as far as he could go, relishing in the soft heat clenching around his cock.

“Shit, you’re so goddamn tight. Did you need my cock this bad?” He groaned, giving one ass cheek another light slap. It was enough to make you gasp and squirm again, but not nearly so hard as your punishment before.

Eventually his other hand joined its twin on your breasts, filling both palms greedily and toying with the nipples. He leaned down, pressing his clothed chest into your back so he could drive himself even harder into your cunt and bite harshly at your shoulders and neck. His growling, excited words were closer now, adding to the fire bubbling in your belly under your skin.

“Pathetic… needy… little… bitch.” His words were broken, interrupted by pants and the force of his hips each time he bucked into you. You moaned louder, your cunt clamping down even more around him at the humiliating words. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for? To be used like a worthless little cock sleeve?” He degraded, his pace slowing, but not the force behind it, his words coming out lower, clearer.

He didn’t need to spur you to answer this time, not with his hands kneading your chest and his cock filling you up over and over so deliciously, making the knot in your gut tense and heat.

“Aaah, y-yes! It’s amazing,” you breathed, voice wavering but thick with the arousal that made you feel near mindless. “You feel so, so good,” you continued, the praise catching in your throat as Adachi touched something inside you that felt especially good.

“Such a good little slut.” The depraved praise was just another catalyst for the fire in your abdomen that strung your body tight. But in it you could hear the way your body affected Adachi as well. A strain dawned in his voice, and his breathing became more ragged. “Tell me, baby, does a fuck toy like you deserve to cum?”

“O-only if you, fuck , want me to, Tohru,” you nearly purred, and Adachi stiffened even more within you at how unexpectedly easily you responded that time.

“That’s right,” he confirmed, picking up his pace, until each deep, hard thrust rocked ythe bed and the frame groaned in protest.

Your mouth fell open, each moan and whimper and gasp coming out full and unimpeded, raising in pitch each time Adachi’s hips pressed flush against yours and his balls slapped against the backs of your thighs.

“Shit. You sound so fucking hot.” The strain in Adachi’s voice was clear as a bell now, and you knew he was close, even distracted by your own pleasure. “I’m gonna fill up that shameless cunt of yours,” he promised bawdily.

“F-fuck, please, Tohru, I-I want your cum.” You surprised yourself with how filthy the words sounded as they fell past your lips, but your face and body could warm no further with embarrassment.

When his rhythm stuttered, Adachi reached one hand down from your breasts, fumbling but quickly finding your swollen clit and rubbing feverishly as his heavy, panting breaths fanned over the back of your neck. Already so overstimulated, it didn’t take long before the tantalizing stroke of Adachi’s fingers burst the coil of heat in your gut and sent you over the edge.

Your cries peaked so loud, you were sure the neighbors nearby could hear, but with the waves of molten pleasure webbing out from your core, you had no mind to care. No mind to be even more humiliated. Adachi’s fingers didn’t stop as you met your climax, and tears ran down your cheeks again; though you weren’t sure if they had ever really stopped. This time, it was from the touch of his fingers and stroke of his cock, quickly becoming overwhelming and almost unpleasant, despite the way your cunt contracted around him and the volume of your moans.

The eager, constant clench of your cunt around his length seemed to be the last push Adachi needed. A positively feral sound met your ears as Adachi stiffened against you, his cum filling you in thick, hot spurts that made you feel even more full. “Fuck, take it all, you dumb slut,” he growled, voice wild and husky as he pumped into you

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, your voice quiet when compared to the sound of your moans.

At last, Adachi’s hips went still, and his fingers on your clit halted, pulling away and wiping the sticky slick coating them onto your thigh. You panted heavily, eyelids fluttering as you strove to keep them open, and you heard Adachi panting as well. There was a pause where neither of you said anything, bent only on the afterglow and regaining your breath.

“Well, what do you say?” Adachi asked expectantly. “C’mon, speak up. I’m sure even a dumb bitch like you can remember.” Though his words were cruel, his tone had mellowed, sounding more exhausted than harsh or demanding.

“T-thank you, Tohru. Thank you for fucking me… a-and for letting me cum,” you mumbled. Your face had cooled while you recovered, but with those words it was on fire all over again.

Satisfied, Adachi pulled out, and his cum leaked down your thighs in the absence of his cock. He stepped away, and you remained bent over his bed, until finally you thought yourself steady enough to stand straight. You turned to look for your clothes - including those you had discarded before Adachi had arrived back - but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Oh, don’t bother getting dressed, baby. You’re not going anywhere,” he informed you, giving you a light push so that you tumbled back onto his bed.

“B-but I thought— don’t you want me to leave?” you asked in confusion. More often than not, when Adachi was in that sort of mood, he wanted you gone afterwards.

“Not after your little stunt,” he said, shucking off his jacket and hanging it up, before taking off his tie and dress shirt, folding them surprisingly neatly in a stack. “You’re going to stay over and make it up to me again in the morning before work,” Adachi decided, coming back to the bed.

“You didn’t think just that was enough, did you?”

#writing #fanfiction #tohru adachi #persona 4 #ao3 #archive of our own #fic friday #weekly update #nsft #n/s/f/w #mind the tags #asks #not anon #requests #answers

17 notes · View notes

mustlovemustypages · 4 years

Text

Yuletide 2020 Letter

Dear potential writer,

I truly hope all is well with you and yours. No matter what state you find yourself in, my wish is that Yuletide boosts your spirits and gives you the extra jolt we all could use to usher in the new year.

Thank you for taking the time to read my letter and thank you in advance if you decide to write anything for me!

Below are my desired fandoms and pairings along with story ideas that I would love to see written. Please don’t feel stifled by my prompts; I’ve also listed my general likes and dislikes at the very bottom of this letter if you decide to go a different route.

Little Women (2019):

Characters: Amy March and Theodore “Laurie” Laurence”

The main reason I adore this adaptation is because it made me see why Amy and Laurie ended up together. They had very similar worldviews and fit so well what the other needed. Both deserved to be with someone that valued them for who they are. With Laurie, Amy was not just financially secure but with someone who encouraged her to express herself creatively, politically, or however she chose. With Amy, while she grounded Laurie in reality and challenged him to be the best version of himself, he didn't have to fundamentally change to make her happy.

Story ideas:

These quotes really show how Amy's perspective on life was different than her sister's: "You are your family's hope." (Aunt March) "I’ve always known I would marry rich." (Amy March) That's a lot of pressure on someone so young. We heard some of Laurie's thoughts, mostly that he didn't think Amy should feel ashamed for wanting that. How would some of that pressure continue even after she got married, and what would Laurie say to make her realize they were in life together as a team and she didn’t have to suffer the weight of the world alone?

The conversation between Amy and Laurie in the painting studio showed just how level-headed and intelligent she was. Laurie, while not wholly agreeing, was respectful and didn't discount her thoughts. It would be interesting to see the impact on their story if Vaughn hadn't arrived, and this had played out more. Would the proposal have happened earlier and/or how would later scenes be altered as a result of further conversation?

What did the other characters think of Amy and Laurie's relationship, and how did it change after seeing them interact more as a couple? It would be interesting to read about Meg, Marmee, John, or some of the other characters realizing they were genuinely a good match for each other.

Post-canon, I'd love to get a glimpse of what kinds of conversations they had. Did Amy encourage Laurie to pursue a career and find what he was passionate about (music perhaps as Laurie mentioned writing an opera)? And similarly, did Laurie encourage Amy to pursue her art? Did they continue to have in-depth conversations about societal pressures and expectations of gender in certain economic classes?

Tenet:

Characters: The Protagonist, Kat, and Neil

Tenet is the first movie I've seen in theaters since Star Wars IX. There have been some mixed reviews, but my love for Christopher Nolan sci-fi films combined with the experience of stepping foot in a theater again made it a wonderful experience for me. Sure, the plot could be confusing at times, but it was fun trying to fit certain puzzle pieces together and oh so thrilling when things just clicked into place in the most satisfying ways.

I adored the dynamic between Neil and the Protagonist. The easy friendship, the banter, the suits... everything. I also loved the relationship between the Protagonist and Kat. It started off as each using the other but transformed into one of genuine care on both sides. Ever the romantic, I definitely saw something more than just friendship between the two and was slightly disappointed the movie didn't explore that aspect more.

For pairings, I’m interested in friendships between all of the characters. I’d be interested in seeing a romantic relationship between Kat and the Protagonist if you’re up for that, but not between Neil and Kat, nor Neil and the Protagonist. If you really want to give a romantic partner to Neil, I'd be fine with Laura (or an original female character if she’s not the focus of the story), but please, no slash. While I’d be ecstatic to see all three characters together, if you can only find a way to fit in two, that’s wonderful as well!

Story ideas:

Even though Andrei Sator is gone, there are still other players in the game, some like Priya, who want to eliminate Kat or even abduct her with the delusional idea she can continue her husband's work. The Protagonist (and Neil, if you so choose) ensures no harm comes to her, and he realizes that keeping her at a distance may not have been the best idea.

I personally don't buy into the fan theory that Neil is Kat's son Max; however, I do find the idea intriguing and would be up for reading about how that worked. The Protagonist breaks his rule and sees Kat, helping to raise her son Max/Neil and eventually teaching him about inversion.

The Protagonist doesn't have to wait quite as long as he'd thought to see Neil again. It can be the Neil who had already met him and knows about Tenet or the Neil who knows nothing about inversion.

What conversations did Neil and Kat have while the Protagonist was asleep after almost freezing to death? Maybe Neil explained the finer workings of Tenet and inversion more in-depth. Perhaps they discussed the Protagonist.

Clueless:

Characters: Cher Horowitz and Josh Lucas

This movie set the bar high for teen romantic comedies. How can anyone ever beat 90s Alicia Silverstone and Paul Rudd? Plus, the relationship between their two characters is fantastic. Josh and Cher just bring out the best in each other. Cher shows Josh that he doesn't need to be so serious all of the time and that people are more than their outer appearances. Josh makes Cher want to be a better person, and he believes that she's not just a pretty face. Their banter and playful moments always make me smile.

Story ideas:

Knowing Josh and Cher end up together, this brings a heightened awareness to rewatches. They have so many casual touches and exchanged glances (when did Paul Rudd's eyes get so blue?) that it's hard to miss their natural chemistry. It may take quite some time for Cher's dad to notice anything has changed because they don't act all that different from before. Is there something that makes him finally take notice? How does he react?

Sort of related to the last prompt, there's a moment where Josh decides to go to the dance to keep an eye on Cher and Christian, and you can tell by Mel Horowitz’s smirk he realizes Josh has a crush on Cher. Does he do anything to push it along or play matchmaker just like his daughter?

I've always been curious about whether or not Josh believes Cher's story about being assaulted in the car by Elton and then held at gunpoint. We skip over Josh pulling up to the phone booth and go straight to Cher already being in the car. How did Josh react when she reiterated the story, and does he instantly believe her, or does it take some convincing? I'd like to see if he comforts her and if they both go together to tell Cher's dad what happened.

Cher is obviously very intelligent socially, if not always so much academically. When it comes time to apply for college, what does she major in? And how is Josh a positive influence in Cher's life, encouraging her to be ambitious and not letting negative comments from guidance counselors or teachers dissuade her?

Things I don’t like:

Alternate Universes – For the specific fandoms that I picked, I really like the universes as they are. I’m definitely okay with deviations from canon, but please don’t make Little Women into a supernatural werewolf story or have Tenet take place in a mundane coffee shop setting. (I don’t mind Soulmate AUs or something similar because those can be incorporated into canon with little change to worldbuilding).

Non-Con/Rape/BDSM/Sexual Violence/Graphic Sex – I like my characters to be happy and everything within ships to be 100% consensual, no question about it (mentions of non-con if it occurred in canon is fine). I also prefer plot over porn, especially with one-shots.

OT3s – Two people per romantic relationship, please. Any more than that makes me uncomfortable.

Character Bashing - Unless a character is a bad guy in canon, I don’t want to read hundreds of words about how awful they are, especially if they are one of the characters that I requested. Don’t take it out on the characters. If you hate my pairings, just write gen.

Things I love:

Hurt/Comfort – There is nothing I love more than one character comforting another. The hurt can be physical, psychological, or both.

Happy Endings – I’m all for the realistic endings… but if they could be plausible AND at least happy-ish, that would be amazing.

Expanded Scenes/Contorting Canon – Feel free to expand scenes and change up the canon to your heart’s content as long as it makes logical sense.

Humor/Banter/Snark – I thrive on this stuff.

Bonding/Building Relationships – Whether it be a friendship or a romantic relationship, I adore reading about two people growing closer together. When characters know each other so well that they can have conversations with just their eyes or anticipate the person’s next move (especially if it’s to the surprise/confusion of everyone around them), my shipper heart is thrilled.

Dark to Light – Seeing a character come out of a bad mindset or situation and get better is so satisfying.

Happy writing and I hope you get the Yuletide gift of your dreams!

- Maddy @mustlovemustypages (on Tumblr, Ao3, and FF.net)

#little women #little women 2019 #amy x laurie #theodore laurence #laurie #amy march #tenet #the protagonist #neil #kat #clueless #josh x cher #cher horowitz #josh lucas #yuletide 2020 #yuletide letter #yuletide

37 notes · View notes