#a crime of the greatest degree

[fenharel]

Morrigan + her friendship with the warden

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Teen Villain Alliance

Chapter 7

Jazz had been against the Teen Villain Alliance. 

As proud as she felt for Danny creating a safe place for meta teens to go, it… it was still villainy. These were still kids, broken, strong, powerful kids, and the fact that so many of them fall into lives of crime was a tragedy. So the fact that Danny was explicitly allowing and even teaching these children to commit crimes… Words had been said. Loud, angry words that shook the walls with their rage.

Words that their parents didn’t hear all the way in the basement. As always too busy with their work to pay attention to their children–

Well. At the very least she made her feelings known. 

Armed with her best psychology textbooks and two years of Stanford classes, Jazz prepared for her greatest challenge yet: infiltrating a criminal organization. Run by her baby brother. 

It hadn’t been easy. After their argument, Danny had been keen to keep her away from his “project.” And Jazz couldn’t just suddenly pretend to be onboard with crime. Despite his low self-esteem, Danny was smart and definitely would figure out that she was faking. With Danny gray-rocking her and the mental health of all the children he could help at stake, Jazz did something drastic, something no one would ever expect of her and something that would horrify Danny. 

She transferred to Amity Park Community College and moved back home. 

Stanford hadn’t understood. Her new friends didn’t understand. Danny, spitting mad and accusing her of spying on him, didn’t understand. But with her less strenuous classes, and extra income from online counseling sessions, Jazz was able to track down their meeting places and help set up the Teen Villain Alliance. 

It had taken a long time to convince Danny that she wasn’t going to turn them in to the Justice League. That was her fault; she’d reacted viscerally to Danny’s pitch for the TVA and broken his trust. For someone already as untrusting as Danny, the fact that she even had it was the result of years of being there for him instead of their parents. 

Now, she was older. She’d gone back to Stanford after the TVA took off and started making a profit and gotten her degree. She spent days in the Ghost Zone looking after the kids that ran through the halls of her brother’s haunt. She held regular individual and group therapy session and was in charge of a whole slew of children who didn’t want to commit crimes–there weren’t many, but kids often took long breaks in between missions and she chose to count them among her number. 

It wasn’t an ideal life, nor was it one she could have prepared for, but it was hers. 

Returning to her warm and inviting office in Phantom’s Haunt, Jazz checked her itinerary. She had an interview with a new teacher: Red Hood, set to teach riflery. She checked his file; there hadn’t been many interactions between the Alliance and the rogue, but most of them were neutral, and his open desire to protect children made him a shoo in for the position. Damian had brought him to her attention when discussing potential allies with Danny, and Danny had handed the list off to her without a second thought. 

Her office, designed to look like the old-timey library of her dreams, lit up red as the clock struck 3 (in the afternoon, she wasn’t a heathen) and the automatic summoning circle flared to life. A rush of light spun around the interior of the circle, spinning and flickering until it fell back down, revealing… a normal man holding groceries. He promptly dropped them and pulled a gun on her, pointing it at Jazz’s head as he demanded to know where he was.

Jazz frowned. She suppose it made sense that Red Hood wouldn’t be in uniform 24/7, but she’d hoped to catch him while ‘on the clock.��� Oh well. “You’re in my office, Mr. Red Hood. Please don’t try to shoot me; the ecto-barrier will hold, and I’d rather not replace the carpet again.”

“The fuck are you talking about!?” Red Hood barked. He didn’t lower his weapon. Jazz made a note of it on her chart. “Who are you? How did you kidnap me!?”

“I’m Jasmine, human resources director of the Teen Villain Alliance. I’ve summoned you for an interview today.”

He looked out of his depth. Jazz could understand; most of the human instructors she hired  were (and one had been enraged by the idea that a villain organization had a human resources department). “Summoned? I’m not a fucking demon! What the hell are you even interviewing me for?”

“Field teacher on projectile weapons and pyrotechnics, Mr. Al Ghul. We need more teachers who can take the kids out to the human world, and–”

“What did you just call me?” Now he looked disturbed. 

“Mr. Al Ghul? Your name?” Jazz checked her documentation again. Jason Al Ghul was listed at the top under Name. “Your younger brother, Damian Al Ghul has recently joined our organization and recommended you… Are you not the Red Hood?” She reached under her desk where she kept an ectogun charged. 

The man tucked away his gun and held up his hands, eyes locked where Jazz’s hand held her pistol. “...Yeah, that’s me. So this is where Damian ran off to?” Jazz relaxed and let go of the ectogun. Red Hood tried to walk out of the summoning circle, only to bounce off an invisible wall. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, but I’ve had interviewees try to attack me before. It’s safer to keep you in the circle until an agreement has been reached.” Jazz turned to her interview questions. “Now, before we begin, do you have any questions for me? I’m sure this has been very confusing for you.”

“Yeah. What does a villain organization need teachers for anyways?” His eyes narrowed. “Thought all of your kids were already villains.”

“Most are, but most teens… well, they end up caught quickly unless an older villain teaches them. And those villains aren’t exactly someone we’d trust not to hurt them in a training environment. Our school–”

“You have a school? Why the fuck do you have a school!?”

She sighed. “Mr. Al Ghul. If you label a child a villain and give them no way to prove otherwise, no way to grow or change, what do you think they’ll become?”

“Lady, you’re literally trying to recruit me to teach kids to shoot people. Don’t you fucking try to convince me you’re trying to help them.”

“I learned to shoot when I was 4, long before anyone called me a villain.” Admittingly, she wasn’t, and still wasn’t, a good shot, but he didn’t need to know that. “Most of our students didn’t wake up one day and decide, ‘I want to be a villain.’ They were labeled that way by society, their families, even the heroes they tried to stand up to. Here, at least, they have a place to belong.”

“Where they’re committing crimes on Phantom’s orders!”

“Less than 10% of the Alliance actively commits crimes at any given moment.” Red Hood paused. “Of those, we only take volunteers, and only those who are physically and mentally capable end up in the field. Most of the teens just live here, go to school here, recover here. It’s a safe place.”

“...Kids shouldn’t be committing crimes.”

“Kids also shouldn’t be stopping them.” His fist clenched. “Labels like 'villain' and 'hero' are meaningless when you’re dealing with teenagers who’ve already been written off by society. The TVA isn’t about teaching kids to rob banks or take over the world. It’s about giving them a place where they can survive—and maybe even thrive—without being hunted or killed for the circumstances they were born into.”

“And you’re putting ‘em in school.” He huffed a laugh. “You really think algebra and english class are gonna help them? Fix them? Put ‘em back together after the heroes shat all over ‘em?”

She shook her head. “It’s not about fixing them. It’s about giving them a second chance, and, for many? The first safe home they’ve ever had. Now–” She straightened her papers. “If you’ll content to an interview, we can get started. But if you’ve already decided to reject our job offer…”

He studied her with his narrowed green eyes and scoffed. He sounded just like Damian. “Ask your questions,” he spat. “Get ‘em over with quick, I got perishables over here.”

Jazz smiled, fangs peeking out past her lower lip.

[justalittlesolarpunk]

Americans I am begging you to vote. Harris is a SHIT candidate doing nothing to prevent appalling crimes against humanity but if Trump pulls the US out of the Paris Agreement again then your national emissions alone will very likely doom the entire planet to permanently overshoot 1.5 degrees, which will be catastrophic for ecosystems, weather and climatic patterns, and human life. I know I might lose followers for saying this, but it just seems too important to me to stay silent. Trump will be infinitely worse for Palestinians and the peace process, and wars and genocides will only multiply across the world if the climate is allowed to destabilise further. I really wish the Greens had a genuine chance but in a two-party system they just don’t. One day I hope a Green is US President but it’s not going to happen soon. Yes you are responsible to the people of Gaza and Lebanon and I don’t want you to ever forget that but they (and the rest of the world, to whom you are also obligated and whom you also impact with your government choices), will only suffer worse if food and water shortages, extreme weather, spreading resource conflict and zoonotic pandemics become more common. These are all genuine risks if the USA fails to meet its climate targets. There are hundreds of millions of you and you’re the biggest economy in the world with some of the greatest violent influence over the rest of us. Pls don’t elect Trump

[utilitycaster]

okay I've been enjoying myself and not terribly salty, but I do have one thing to say which is that like...look. I still think that Liliana could go either way. I don't think she should be killed on sight, obviously. I also don't think she is guaranteed to not betray Imogen. But it's absolutely wild the degree of leniency she was consistently granted, well beyond that of basically any other parent except ones who were already dead before the narrative. People were harsher to Marion Lavorre, who was certainly flawed and had, through her own issues, caused problems for Jester, but notably hadn't like, recruited vulnerable children into a death cult. People were worse to the Gentleman, who definitely did his share of horrible crimes but his closest allies never tried to TPK the Mighty Nein. People are less sympathetic to Korrin, who literally was just a normal high-strung parent with high expectations for his daughter because he was thrust into leadership and his wife was presumed to have died on her Aramente and he wanted to ensure this wouldn't happen to his only child. People were worse to Birdie and Ollie, who we know were directly mind controlled. And suddenly when Liliana turns up she's the universe's greatest, if I may use a term from TVTropes, woobie, for skipping out on her family and leaving her daughter to fend for herself in Gelvaan with no warning and no guidance, sending Imogen unsettling and unhelpful dreams, failing to answer her questions even as she clearly gets entangled in what Liliana was trying unsuccessfully to protect her from, and becoming involved in an organization that tried and frequently succeeded in killing the people who initially helped her. You literally get people who are like "abolition of the nuclear family" everywhere else on their blog being like "um well you see, Imogen is trying to connect with her biological mother and that is sacred." Liliana is not beyond redemption - I think that could in fact be a very satisfying ending for her - but there is a very real possibility she will betray the party, there always has been, and the fact that she was granted automatic and unlimited benefit of the doubt from a swathe of the fandom has really cast her many flaws in a far more revealing light than had she been treated in a more measured and nuanced fashion.

[motordyk]

things that have saved my life as an autistic adult living in the south

WET WIPEs - these mfs will save your ife especially if you have a thing about showering/have issues with getting undressed even while being alone (if ur really uneasy about cleaning ur gooch just get baby wipes they were made specifically for this purpose. u can do it. i believe in u)

rechargeable handheld vaccum cleaner - made cleaning incredibly easy even with my scoliosis. bonus poins if u use it on ur mattress because u sleep on the floor like me(also doubles as a fan if you can find where the exhaust fan is. youre welcome)

door mats/pee pads/bath mats - worlds greatest invention. please come here i need to kiss you on the mouth

kids toothpaste - majority of the reason why i hated brushing my teeth was because the toothpaste tasted like shit. idk about yall but i like me a toothpaste that i can swallow ykwim

deodorant - kind of goes hand-in-hand with wet wipes but ive had days where i slather this motherfucker everywhere. and i mean EVERYWHERE

elastic cloth headband - if u have long hair this is a fucking lifesaver in the summer. live free be gay do crimes (or just shave ur fucking head. i dont need a degree to be a clothing hanger type shit)

deep woods bug spray - get this. i am so serious it may not work well but god does it feel good on those bites. period.

other people who live in the south put additions underneath ill be sure to reblog em 👍

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 12: Coulrophilia + DDLG

Joker!Ghoul-ish!Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Harley Quinn!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, dark!cooper & dark!reader, tame ddlg, coulrophilia (attraction to clowns), Freaky crazy clowns, toxic af relationship, age gap, yandere x yandere, 60s Gotham-like AU, Reader was Cooper’s TV Daughter, Cooper has a joker-like backstory, joker and harley references. Reader has Harley Quinn-like backstory, violence, blood kink, fingering, squirting, kissing, lots of pet names (sugar, princess, sweetheart, etc.), they are very bad people, curvy/short!reader

Summary: You are the partner in crime of a dangerous man known as “The Ghoul”; a half-monstrous, half-human clown prince of crime. He also happens to be your “Daddy” too.

A/N: I’m keeping up with the ghoul-ish theme for Cooper for kinktober to go with idea I have of him where he kinda looks like dabi from bnha where like he’s half-radiation burned and other half- human. Hope yall see the vision cause I’ve thought about how cool that would be for a while.

Cooper was once a good man. A simple family man. In fact, he was on the screens of every family in America—regarded as one of the greatest movie stars of all time.

But then…he had a bad day and all it takes is one bad day to bring the most sanest man alive to the brink of insanity. Just one fateful decision that would eventually lead to one long comically bad day.

Picture this: Cooper is at the point in which he’s tired of being lied to and kept in the dark from his wife’s work with Vault-Tec. Unable to keep away, He sneaks into the private and heavily secured facility, gathering damning intel along with the sinister truth. In a slip-up during a security round of a particular unit, Cooper found himself trapped in and ended up falling into a vat of chems that injured him beyond recognition.

He was sure to die. He thought he would. But when he woke up in the hospital not only did this confirm otherwise but it also confirmed that he’d been caught. And from there a series of losses began in just the spiral of a day. His wife was leaving him, taking their only daughter, his last credited role was from a now canceled TV series; and he’d even lost his dazzling looks.

He was now a ghost of himself. A ghoul. Parts of his human form were overshadowed by the singed flesh that encased large parts of him. Like a Frankenstein’s monster of sorts.

He’d tried being a good man. A simple family man. But look where that path has led him. This world wasn’t built for men like him. And so he gave in to the dark parts of himself.

It’s funny how the world knows just who to send into your life to completely flip it upside down because you thought you’d never see Cooper again. In a way, you could say that you were right. Because sitting right across from you—that isn’t the wholesome TV Dad you’ve had the pleasure to work with…oh no, he is ‘The Ghoul’.

There he is before you; red stained lips painted into a wicked smile, green-dyed hair slicked back in a suave style, smoking a cigar and looking like the mafia boss that he is despite wearing the all white clothing associated with the asylum. The bottom half of his face from his bottom lip and jaw down to neck and shoulders are web-like flesh stapled together like he’d been built up like a puzzle. Somehow, he’s still so very handsome.

“Look ‘atcha,” He smirks, ogling you up and down. “My, my…you’ve grown. Even got yourself that psychology degree you’ve been tellin’ me you wan’ed to go back to school for. Proud of ya, kid.”

“Thank you, Mr. Howard,” You say before adjusting your glasses and leaning forward. “I was rather intrigued when I heard that I’d get to meet the new you. Colleagues told me it’d be a bad idea taking you as my patient considering how much I’ve once looked up to you.“

He chuckles. “Ya know, the universe can be quite the prankster. You remember that lil’ joke I made about bein’ a patient of yours someday…” The chains from the metal cuffs around his wrists rattle when gestures to himself. “I reckon I shoulda specify what kind of patient I’d be.“

“It’s a shame we have to meet under these circumstances. But I’m glad we’ve crossed paths.” You say.

“Oh?” He asks, leaning in as well. “Why’s that, sugar?”

“Because I want to help you.” You simply say.

“I already know I’m fuckin’ crazy, sweetheart. I don’t need a shrink to talk my ear off ‘bout it.”

“No, Mr. Ghoul, I want to help you…burn Vault-Tec to the fucking ground,” You clarify. “And when there’s nothing left, I want to dance on its ashes. I want to reveal the evil truth to the people and start a fucking revolution. I want chaos. Anarchy. And I want…I want to be with you.”

You slip your fingers into one of your thigh-high stockings and pull out a key you retrieved from an unsuspecting prison guard. Cooper watches on as you remove his cuffs with a pleased yet astonished expression. You tenderly rub the indented marks on his wrist. “I’ve always loved you. Even before we’d ever met—I was your biggest fan.”

He stands with an aura of intimidation and raw assertion, an intense gaze in his eyes as he saunters closer to you. You quickly rise to your feet, anticipating his embrace.

Cooper’s large hands shoot up around your neck, squeezing. Not hard enough to cut off any air circulation but just enough to drag your body against his.

He plants a messy kiss onto your lips. There’s teeth nipping at the soft, plush of your lips and his thick tongue lick the surface and the inside of your mouth. It’s so sloppy and purposefully so and you don’t care how freaky it is.

You are sure by now that his white face paint and the crimson shade of his lips have now transferred to your lips. Or could it be blood from the little nick he’d given you on your lips. You aren’t sure but it only added on to your arousal.

He pulls away, blood staining lips and just beneath his nose. “Well, I’m sure glad you chose to come home to daddy because if you weren’t by my side—why I’d just have to kill ya,” He laughs, removing a hand from your neck to cradle the back of your head. “Thatta girl. Now let’s get outta this shithole.”

“I know a secret exit we can—”

“Sorry, sugar, but I’d rather leave with a bang,” He winks suggestively, taking you by the arms to face you away from him and bend you over the table; the side of your face is pressed against the cold metal. You feel his erection weighing hot and heavy against your ass as he lays himself over you for a moment, lips against your ears to growl a command. “Don’t hold back yer screams for me, princess. Let ‘em all hear what I’m doin’ to ya.”

Just as you feel your lace panties being pulled to the side, four guards come barging into the room and shout for his compliance.

“Get the fuck off of her.” One guard shouts, laying a heavy hand on the Ghoul’s shoulder. Ghoul’s military training comes into play as he uses the very key that set him free to repeatedly jab into the accessible and vulnerable armpit of the guard.

He cries out in pain nursing the wound that now bleeds profusely and too distracted by this he fails to protect his gun, allowing Cooper to lift it from his belt and shoot into the shoulder of another guard who’d drawn his gun at him. In a shocking twist, you witness one prison guard turn on his last fellow guard, shooting him right in the knees.

“What about the girl?” The traitor prison guard questions, pointing a weapon against your head as you remain trembling against the table. You’ve never seen anything like this!

The ghoul steals a handkerchief from a prison guard who’d been struggling to reach his radio strewn across the room. Cooper nonchalantly wipes away the excess blood on his hands before picking up his cuban cigar from the ashtray. You awaited in nervous anticipation as he decided to take a draw from it instead of answering him, bellowing out the smoke in your direction and clouding your view of him for a few seconds.

His hard gaze begins to soften, charming you with his famous smile. “She’s just dandy to me.”

He holds a hand out to you and you squeal with glee, standing up on wobbly knees to jump into his arms.

“Come on, sugar. We’ve got some catchin’ up to do,” He holds you tight against him before indiscreetly whispering to his minion. “Finish the job, will ya? But do it only after we leave the room. Wouldn’t want to traumatize my princess ‘less it’s done by my hand.”

“You got it, boss.” The minion says. And withthat the Ghoul carries you over the threshold of what was once your own prison in a metaphorical sense.

The Ghoul makes do with his promise and causes a huge debacle within the asylum. By the time you’d both leave the building, it was like a circus. There were patients everywhere running amuck with doctors and nurses failing to control them, alarms going off, and you think there might have even been a fire started. It was perfect.

Outside a limo awaits the two of you, it looks like he’d been planning his escape all along. Whether that included you, you didn’t care. He may not be the same Cooper you fell for, the one whom you once saw as a father figure—Hell, he’s batshit fucking insane but somehow it makes your heart beat a mile a minute and the attraction only triples but his new appearance.

You pull him for yet another kiss, flames in the background are like fireworks. You could get lost in it if it weren’t for the damn police and fire truck sirens going off.

“Looks like that’s our cue to scram.” He opens the door for you which is interesting that he can still be so chivalrous. You smile just like the princess he names you to be and you enter and never look back.

Now you are a part of that darkness, feeding each other’s wickedness. The two of you have shed your clothes and in turn shed those identities. No longer did he don the all white clothing of an asylum patient. When he looks into the mirror —past the charred half of his flesh- he sees that of a crime-lord with weapons hung close to his body as if it were an accessory to his pin-striped suits. And you’d shed your past life, burning your white lab coat. You were now his and he, yours. And of course as a daddy’s girl, you’d do anything to mirror his image, adapting his twisted clown aesthetic.

Newspapers had a field-day writing about your descent to madness from America’s sweetheart to the other-half of a crazy crime duo. They call it a match made in hell, you call it the greatest love story ever.

But sometimes it does get exhausting when you want to spend time with your lover when there’s so many factors that prevents you from spending time with him! Vault-Tec, Vigilantes, Betrayers, and Barb! Just thinking about her makes you angry.

Why can’t they all just let you enjoy your chaotic lives in peace?!

Currently, The Ghoul is handling a business transaction with an informant from Vault-Tec who made claims of a nuclear war in the making with a plan to make the middle class pay for it. You’re more than happy to set your plan in motion to create a threatening video message to the company using the informant as a hostage, hoping you’ll finally get some time with Coop but he wants to take things slow.

“It’s chess not checkers, darlin’.” He’d comment and you’d just have to accept it. But today was meant to be your anniversary and he’d decided to take time out of your day to do business!

You claw your acrylics through the newspaper you’d been reading with an old picture of Cooper and Barb on the front page with a headline about their once fiery romance. That was the last straw.

Your sharp cat-like acrylics claw into the flimsy newspaper material you held in your hands, poking through the page from back to front and straight through the eyes of your lover and his ex-wife. The headline of their past fiery romance pushes you over the edge.

You shred the paper into bits, flinging it into the air like confetti. The tears are blinding, mascara running down your cheeks as you rise to your feet and go over to retrieve something from his ‘secret’ drawer from his office.

In the highest heels you own, you’re strutting angrily and briskly up the long-winded stairs and through the spacious halls of his large penthouse. His staff know better than to get in your way, jumping out of your path with terrified looks the moment they lay eyes on you.

You may be a curvier girl but you were a lot shorter in height than most people you knew. And most people you knew usually wouldn’t be intimidated by such a woman of your stature, not of course, if said woman happened to be wielding a .45 caliber pistol in hand.

If hell hath no fury than a woman scorned then it is in everyone’s best interest to mind their goddamn business.

You see red. Tunnel vision. Nothing else existed in this moment other than the man you hope to kill.

“Cooper!” You shout, pounding hard against the double ivory doors of his conference room before throwing them open.

The audience in the room turns their heads in your direction, expressions of confusion morphing into horror. You could hear the faint murmurs of his patrons murmuring about knowing you from TV.

The Ghoul is the last to raise his eyes at you, expelling air from his nostrils in frustration. He’s yet to speak up, watching the scene unfold from his big boss chair.

“Ya’ll better skedaddle or little blue’s gonna sing,” You threaten causing the crowd to quickly flee, some clutching their grand-theft stolen pearls as they do so. Once you're satisfied with the emptied room, you close the doors behind you and lock them for safe measures. You raise the gun at him, hands shaking. “You still love her, don’t you? The day you decided to leave the facility…to take me as yours…that was on your anniversary date, wasn’t it? I thought this day was special for us. But you used me. You just want her attention.”

He’s neither terrified nor angry. He just seems…inconvenienced. Bored with it all, he rolls his eyes as he begins fixing up his paperwork. “Couldn’t this have waited until after my meeting? I’ve got a job to do. I don’t need any of your distractions.”

“You think I’m a distraction,” You squeak, hurt by his suggestion. A rage consumes you so violently that you think of the first thing that'll quench your fire. In one fell swoop, you swipe your arm on the table and throw his paperwork and office supplies onto the ground scattering them everywhere. Now he’s furious, jaw clenching as he stares daggers at you. You can tell he’s deciding a punishment for you. “You said we belonged together! We were supposed to forge the world side by side. How could you say that I’m just a distraction?”

“I said, ‘your distractions’. As in, all the bullshit you do on a daily basis. Now be quiet.” He hisses through gritted teeth.

“No.” You stand your ground, adjusting your posture so that you appear even taller than you already are in your heels. You know he hates it when people tower over him.

He slams his hands on the table before rising to his feet slowly. He makes it a point to stand as close to you as possible so that he’s the one towering over you now. “You’re being a fucking brat.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” You snarl. “Maybe…I should find her, hmm? I should find her and kill her. I’ll do it. You think I wouldn’t?”

“Sweet pea, I know you would and I don’t care if you do,” He laughs, cupping your face in his large hands. “She took my Janey from me. I ain’t seen her in years. Barb is my lightning rod, all my aggression is accredited to her. If she were gone, sure it’d make things really boring for me but that’s just it. And as for you, princess, well…yer a pretty young thing—real cute—but I’m one making the commands here.”

“But we’ve done so much together. We made them lose profits. We pushed forward a smear campaign for one of the senior executives that made him disappear off the grid. That was a team effort!”

“And I appreciate your support, lil’ angel. You really do make yo papa proud,” His thumb traces your lips before he roughly grips your jaw, making you look him in the eye. His rings bite into the skin of your cheeks. “Now why don’t you give me a pretty smile? If yer good for it, I might let you sit on my lap.”

You yank away from his grasp, cocking the gun. “I’ll fucking kill you. I thought when you came into my life to silence my demons. But you’ve only danced with them. I’m so screwed up in the head because I loved you. But if you die, I’ll be free.”

For a moment, he looks genuinely scared but then he gives you a wicked smirk.

“You wouldn’t. You could never kill me. How do you think you’ll be able to go on livin’ after it’s done? The second I’m gone, you wouldn’t last not even a millisecond without me,” He steps forward, closing the gap between you once again. “That’s how pathetic you are. You need somethin’ in your life to cling on and that’s me. I’m your lifeline. Whether you like it or not, your heart knows you're bound to me. A year of fleetin’ kisses and light touches; I’ve not fucked you once and still yer this weak for me. I could only imagine how obedient you’ll be when I pop your precious cherry.”

“Fuck you,” Hot tears and mucus continue to run down your face as you unrelentingly held the pistol up to his chest. “Fuck you, Cooper. Maybe I won’t live long after I kill you, but I’ll be seeing you in hell.”

You pull the trigger only instead of a lead bullet, a foam-like bullet with a suction end sticks to his chest. It appears to be a strange child’s toy. You examine it with confusion before looking up at his fuming expression.

You begin to laugh nervously, dropping the toy on the ground to give a quirky shrug of your shoulders. “Oopsies.”

“I didn’t think I’d hide actual guns anywhere near the likes you, did you?” He sneers. “You fucking shot me.”

“But you didn’t die.”

“Anything you’ve got to say for yourself?”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat. “S-sorry…daddy.”

He raises his hand and you flinch, fearing that this’ll be the day he finally raises a hand on you. Instead, he places it on your head, petting it softly.

“My good girl,” He praises, much to your confusion. “What am I going to do with you?”

Your eyes sparkle with love and admiration, throwing yourself into his arms. “You still love me?”

“Of course, I still love you,” He coos, soothing a hand down your back that’s exposed by the style of your mini blue satin dress. “I’ve never had a woman love me this intensely. You almost killed me, woman. That makes me so hard.”

He guides your dainty hand over his hardening clothed cock. “Do you feel that, sugar?” He rasps. “You’ve done this to me simply for being crazy as shit. No woman’s ever made me feel this way, not even Barb..”

“Y-you mean that, daddy-o?”

“From the bottom of my heart,” He brushes his nose against yours. “Do you see how passionately in love we are for each other? You never have to question my devotion for you even if Barb’s around, no one could replace you. There’s just so many things you do that she could never do as good as you.”

“Like what?” You blink up innocently.

“You always know just the right thing to make me feel good.” He hints, sitting back on his executive chair with his legs spread.

You sink to your knees, sitting in between his legs. Cooper loves oral sex, both giving and receiving. He’s been so busy with work that rarely had time for either but you’ll gladly keep giving it up whenever you can. And maybe eventually, he’ll officially claim you in bed.

Your hands reach for his zipper when he halts your movements. He stares intensely into your eyes while wrapping one pigtail around his scarred hand. “You don’t deserve to taste me. You’ve maxed out your strikes for the day,” He begins to recount. “Strike one, you interrupted my meeting. Strike two, you were a rude pest. Strike three, you tried to kill me. For these reasons, I want you to sit beside me like a good little girl for the rest of my meeting. I shall have a punishment ready for you by then.”

“But—“

“Silence,” He tugs hard, forcing you to rise slightly. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you. I want you as silent as the ground I walk on. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You whine.

He places a kiss on your forehead before releasing you. With a push of a button, he makes an announcement on the intercom for his staff to lead his patrons back into the conference room.

“Remember, my dove: not a peep out of you.” He orders.

You watch on the rest of the meeting with awe, head in your hands as you dreamily sigh up at him as plotted away. After sometime, the members of his team exit the room after the Ghoul approves their dismissal.

Alone again at last, you hop into his lap, making the two of you spin in his upholstered chair. He humors you, forehead against yours and a reserved smile on his face.

“You were so amazing, daddy-o! I bet they’ll never think to underestimate you again. The plan is just diabolical!” You exclaim. “How are you real?”

“I ask myself this at times.” He replies smugly, rubbing circles in your back. If you continued to praise him like this, he just might disregard punishing you.

“I know I’ve been a bad girl and I don’t deserve it but may I please kiss you?” You ask, playing with his tie.

“You may.” He approves.

You squeal giddily before planting your lips onto his with a hungry desire that has you both moaning into the kiss. Your hands find comfort in his hair, ruining its assembly. Most days, Cooper would curse you for this but today he’s in such good spirits because everything is going his way. He slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

The telephone rings and he breaks away with a groan reaching for it on the table while his other hand continues to trace his fingers lightly up and down your back. While he’s occupied in conversation, you kiss all over his neck, leaving lipstick kisses behind.

“Excellent, I’ll be sure to watch.” He says with a smile.

“Daddy-o’?” You question.

He simply takes a remote off his desk and presses a button that mechanically parts the large velvet curtains to the side, revealing the big clear window behind it. Different colors burst into the sky of reds, greens, blues and yellow and you recognize them as actual fireworks.

You stand from his lap, walking over to the large window to gaze in at its glory. He’d successfully executed a plan you’d been telling him about for months; setting off an explosion at one of the milk factories that an ex owned. A factory far in the distance that you could see from the penthouse’s height, cursing it every day because it ruined your view of the city. And now Cooper has taken it out…for you. God, you love this man.

“Happy Anniversary, princess.” He says from behind, kissing you on your neck.

“This is the best thing anyone’s ever done for me,”Your eyes sparkle in the light, clapping and laughing with pure glee at the spectacle. “Oh, I could only imagine how funny it would have been to see the look on his face.”

Cooper presses another button and sure enough your ex is on the news, having a fit about it while you and Cooper laughed as if it were the funniest thing on earth.

Swept up by the moment, you kissed him passionately, messing up his makeup and your own as blended into an odd mix of colors.

His thick fingers find their way between your legs, moving past your damp panties to plunge into your hot, wet core. You gasp against his lips, nails sinking into his dress shirt for support as you grind down on them.

“I love you, Daddy.” You cry out happily, breathing quicken with the pumping of his fingers. If it weren’t for your back against the window, your buckling knees would have taken you down.

“I love you, too, sugar. You’re so good for me.” He praises, thrusting so particularly deep into you that your eyes cross and you gush your honeyed slick into his palm. “Always been daddy’s little monster.”

That name is enough to tip you over the edge, tightening your hand around his wrist when your orgasm finally hits you like a freight train. You whine and tremble when he continues his ministrations inside of you curling is finger perfectly while his meaty palm added friction to your throbbing clit. You’re sobbing at the overstimulation, soaking his hand, down your legs and his pants. He laughs at your catatonic state; the babbling and drool down your chin makes you look about as mad as an asylum patient. The aftershocks flow through you like a tidal wave as you shake against his hard body.

He’s only merciful to stop when you begin to clamp his hand between your thighs to keep him from moving any further.

When you come down, you give him a dopey smile and say, “Boy, seeing a building blow up like that makes me want to ‘blow’ something else?”

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Types of Relationships To Help You Thrive In Life

Table of Contents:

Healthy Relationship With Yourself

Peer-To-Peer Relationship

Mentorship Relationship

Goal-Oriented/Accountability-Focused Relationship

Emotionally-Intimate Relationship

Physical/Sexually-Intimate Relationship

Acquaintance Relationships

Second-Degree Relationships

Types of Relationships:

Healthy Relationship With Yourself: Internalize and act with the knowledge that you're worthy of love, care, and nourishment, and have unconditional permission to work towards your goals & dream life. Eat healthfully, drink plenty of water, remain well-rested, move your body daily, maintain proper hygiene/a clean home, invest in your appearance to feel your best, live as a life-long learner, establish healthy habits/routines, get your finances in order, establish and maintain boundaries, make positive self-talk a priority.

Peer-To-Peer Relationship: Aka friendships, which are intended to offer mutual support and joy in life. These friendships thrive on having similar values and interests, which makes these individuals your greatest cheerleaders, advice givers/receivers, and partners in crime to have fun or offer platonic love/emotional support during traditional or difficult seasons in your life. Peer-to-peer relationships should add mutual excitement, encouragement, and emotional nourishment, and provide a soundboard for confidential information exchange, ears to listen without unnecessary or superficial judgment, and solicited advice from someone who has your best interest in mind.

Mentorship Relationship: This could be a boss, teacher, professor, aunt, uncle, or another trusted adult(s) who can guide you based on their more extensive life experience/wisdom. You can have one or several mentors at any life stage and for different purposes. These people should be trustworthy (keep your information confidential unless you state otherwise) and express their advice through the lens of your best interest rather than their own personal desires or biases (at least those left unchecked). Ensure you feel safe around these people, and their presence in your life is a mutually-nourishing relationship that allows you to grow personally, professionally, and relationally.

Goal-Oriented/Accountability-Focused Relationship: A coach, mentorship, or friendship based on the achievement of a particular goal or practice. This type of relationship can manifest as an accountability partner or support group. A therapist can also fulfill this role in your life (but like, a coach, this relationship is a one-way street to offer you emotional support/tools & resources). Some reasons for an accountability-oriented relationship include helping you achieve a certain health/fitness goal, establish better routines, advance in your career, let go of unhealthy habits, patterns, or addictions, better manage your finances, or help you get your other relationships (family, partner, friends, self-talk, boss, co-workers, etc.) in order.

Emotionally-Intimate Relationship: Someone with whom you feel an unwavering emotional closeness and connection. This person can be a partner you're involved with sexually/physically intimate with or not. Asexuality exists, of course. And emotional intimacy can definitely exist in close platonic relationships (like your best friendships) without any romantic or sexual feelings. These relationships are important because they allow you to let your emotional walls down and be your vulnerable, authentic self.

Physical/Sexually-Intimate Relationship: This relationship could be with a romantic partner, FWB, with multiple partners, purely with yourself, or somewhere in between. If you have sexual needs, it's important to find pleasurable ways to satisfy these desires in a way that makes you feel most fulfilled and respected. Let go of any shame you experience when exploring this side of yourself. Experiment and learn what you like/dislike/fantasize about. Use this information to elevate your practice and communication with any partner(s) for a heightened, more enjoyable, and potentially closer emotionally-bonding experience.

Hobby/Interest-Centric Relationship: These relationships can extend from co-workers to your friends in a certain class/the one friend you go on weekly walks with, follow a particular TV show with, exchange beauty tips with, "going out" friends, etc. While these connections aren't vulnerable to the degree of a close friendship/relationship, it is important to have some relationships that are purely based on fun, light-hearted conversations, and mutual hobbies/interests/lifestyles. Having someone to share these mutual experiences with helps you feel more connected to your environment/communities, not feel isolated/lonely when your friends, family, or intimate partner has different hobbies, career aspirations, or daily routines/lifestyle compared to you, and provides a mutual soundboard on issues, insights, and exciting moments in this particular area of your life.

Acquaintance Relationships: Everyone needs those friends, co-workers, or classmates they can just chat with when at a party, a group meeting, dinner, a special occasion, to grab a quick lunch or coffee, etc. These people are fun to be around and allow you to indulge in light, easy conversations to offer temporary social support/fulfillment. These relationships also expand your network for professional opportunities, making new friends, finding dates/a potential partner, interest groups/new hobbies, referral services/classes/spaces, and other contacts that can enrich your life.

Second-Degree Relationships: These are friend-of-a-friend type connections who can be/become your future business partners, romantic/sexual partners, co-workers, investors, hairdressers, realtors, stylists, finance managers, etc. Be ready to reciprocate these offers and be this person in others' lives, too. As your network gets broader and more dynamic, better chances and potential there is to connect with the right people to help you achieve your goals, desires, and overall life satisfaction. Success and efficiency rarely – if ever – exist in isolation.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

So my friend @knightsweeties has been getting me to think about DC lately. And one of the things I’ve been doing what my take would be on some of the heroes and villains. At the time we have only talked about Gotham.

So I wanted to share my Take on one of DC’s greatest Villains, The Joker

Gale Cut: The Joker

What would I do differently with the Joker?

I think the biggest problem with the joker is that DC seems to forget what the Joker is. He isn’t just some chaos loving guy dressed as a clown. No, he is a Clown that wants to make fun of society! Everything he does is for the sake of the bit! That’s what the joker is, a clown committed to the bit in an insane degree.

All his plans need to revolve around a joke, and if the joke isn’t funny, he won’t do it.

Now for example. Joker could be reading the newspaper and see how the cost of fuel has gone up.

So what does he do? He fills the entire street with Whoopee cushions because he wanted to show Gotham has a real “Gas Problem”

Or

Maybe he runs into a renown surgeon and decides to cut his limbs off and reattach them so he can have him “In stitches”

Or maybe Gotham is having a lobster festival. So Joker decides to light the coast line on fire. To help bring things to… A boil.

The point is Joker only wants to make jokes and do what’s funny to him.

Is he still psychotic and kills people? Absolutely, but only if he thinks it’s funny.

Joker will never do something if he doesn’t find it amusing. Thats the point. He only cares about the comedy of the situation.

And before anyone says this joker is soft. He is not.

He kidnapped orphans and injected them with joker venom. His joke was that “You can’t kidnap unwanted children. What I did was adoption.”

He then proceeded to blow up the orphanage with most of the staff inside and send the jokerized kids to every school in Gotham to show how the school system was “The real joke.”

————-

Now for his relationship with Harley.

Oh it’s still toxic but very different.

Joker didn’t manipulate her with some sob story.

Joker simply made her laugh. He could tell that deep down that she needed someone that got her humor. And as someone that appreciates a good sense of Humor, joker recruited Harley.

Though instead of a toxic domestic abusive relationship, I decided to go a different direction.

Joker doesn’t understand emotions, and thus Doesn’t get that Harley is in love with him. If she ever confessed to him, he would look confused and ask what the punchline is?

To Joker, Harley is someone that can provide feedback if a joke is funny. And if she likes the joke. More of a reason to do it. Because if someone else finds the joke funny, that’s even better!

Though Joker isn’t above slapstick if Harley messes up his plans. But it’s never a portrayal of abuse in the domestic abuse sense. More like him slapping her with a trout.

To Harley, Joker is someone that showed her the truth. Society is a joke, and all it needs are people to show the people the punchline.

Now if something were to happen to Harley or if Harley stopped getting the joke. Joker would shrug and move on. He does value her insight and her opinion, but to say it is genuine care is incorrect. If it means a funny enough gag. He’d kill her without hesitation.

—————-

Joker being in love with Batman is dumb to me. He’s also not Batman’s true opposite. So for their dynamic I actually did change it.

Joker sees Batman as the funniest Joke in Gotham. A grown man dressed as a bat fighting crime in a city more corrupt than anywhere else? That’s pure comedy.

Joker even asked Batman to team up with him early on. “You’re a bat, I’ve been driven bats. We’d be a great comedy duo!”

But what joker found out was that Batman has no sense of humor. He needs to make this man laugh!

Joker views Batman as the straight man in the comedy routine. Having him react is what he wants!

Batman sees Joker as insane, and in need of help. So despite everything, believes there is still someone that can be saved.

Joker doesn’t care about Batman’s identity. It would be like finding out the punchline to a joke without the set up. And if anyone tried to spoil it. He would kill them.

Now Joker is willing to kill Batman, but only if the way he kills him would be funny enough to justify killing him. Joker only cares about what’s funnier

————

What’s Joker’s backstory?

It doesn’t matter. And joker likes it that way. All he knows is that he had one REALLY bad day. And that’s all he needs to know.

Anything else would be unnecessary.

[applestorms]

@jessaerys ok shit this took a while but WHATEVER. wammy's lore collection here we go :3c less analysis this time, this is mostly just to archive the main known details we have in canon about the house, and also the people from there more generally. however much you wanna accept all this/take it at face value is up to You, Dear Reader (and tbh y'all should just read all these if ur curious since they're all pretty short + have Interesting narrators. i'll include links to free versions). do whatever you want forever etc. etc. also, SPOILERS. obviously.

LABB: (listen here)

no this book isn't written by ohba. yes i'm including it. shush. anyways, most of the lore in this comes from mello's vague comments about beyond's backstory, but there's a Lot of interesting things established in this, so. here's a bunch of notable quotes. if you're not already familiar, please keep in mind that the narrator of this novel is mello, writing at some point shortly before his death.

"L. The century's greatest detective. In light of his staggering mental abilities, L died an unjust and untimely death. In the public record alone he solved over 3,500 difficult crimes, and sent three times that number of degenerates to prison. He wielded incredible power, was able to mobilize every investigative bureau in the entire world, and was applauded generously for his efforts. And during it all, he never showed his face." (pg. 10)

"So, what you're reading now are my notes about L. It's a dying message, not from me, and not directed at the world. The person who will most likely read this first will probably be that big-headed twit Near. But if that's the case, I will not tell him to shred or burn these pages. If it causes him pain to discover that I knew things about L that he did not, then that's fine." (pg. 10-11)

"I am one of the few people who ever met L as L. When and how I met him...this is the single most valuable memory I have, and I will not write it here, but on that occasion L related to me three stories of his exploits, and the episode involving Beyond Birthday was one of these." (pg. 11)

"Obviously, it never came to light that L--and more importantly, Wammy's House, which raised me until I was fifteen--was deeply connected to the matter, but in fact, they were. L, on principle, never got involved in a case unless there were more than ten victims or a million dollars at stake, and this is the real reason why he belatedly, but aggressively, involved himself in this little case, which only ever had three or four victims. I will explain further in the pages that follow, but for this reason, the case of the Los Angeles BB murders is a watershed event for L, for me, and even for Kira. It was a monumental event for all of us. Why? Because this is the case where L first introduced himself as Ryuzaki." (pg. 11)

"For any one else but those two [Near and Kira], my identity may be of no interest, but I am the old world's runner-up, the best dresser that died like a dog, Mihael Keehl. I once called myself Mello and was addressed by that name, but that was a long time ago. Good memories and nightmares." (pg. 12)

"She [Naomi Misora] briefly considered the idea that Raye Penber, or someone else, was playing a practical joke on her, but she found it hard to believe that anyone would be so bold to sign their name as such. L never revealed himself in public or in private, but Misora had heard several horror stories about what happened to detectives who tried passing themselves off as L. It was safe to say that no one would dare use his name, even in jest." (pg. 18)

"This was L, so he was undoubtedly solving several other difficult cases all at once. Cases all over the world. For him, this case was just one of many parallel investigations. How else could he maintain his reputation as the world's greatest detective? The century's greatest detective, L. The detective with no clients." (pg. 35)

"L had earned a certain degree of hostility from other detectives, and the jealous ones called him a hermit detective, or a computer detective, but neither of these is a particularly accurate representation of the truth. Naomi Misora had also tended to think of L as an armchair detective, but in fact, L was quite the opposite, a very active, aggressive individual. [swoon.] While he had absolutely no interest in social connections, he was certainly not the kind of detective to shut himself up in a dark room with the shades drawn and refuse to come out. It is now common knowledge that the three great post war detectives, L, Eraldo Coil and Danuve were all actually the same person. Certainly, anyone reading these notes is almost certain to know...though they may not know that L engaged in a war with the real Eraldo Coil, and the real Danuve, and emerged victorious, claiming their detective codes. The details of this detective war I will save for another occasion, but in addition to those three names, L possessed many other detective codes. I have no idea how many, but there were at least three digits' worth. And quite a number of those were fairly public detectives--just like, as anyone reading these notes must know, he appeared before Kira, calling himself Ryuzaki or Ryuga Hideki. Of course, Naomi Misora had no way of knowing this, but in my opinion, the name L was, for him, just one of many. He never had any direct connection to that identity, he never thought of himself as L--it was just the most famous and most powerful of the many detective codes he used during his life. The name had its uses, but lacked obscurity. L had a real name that nobody knew, and nobody will ever know, but a name which only he knew never defined him. I sometimes wonder if L himself ever knew exactly which name was written in the Death Note, which name it was that killed him. I wonder." (pg. 43-44)

"If we must discuss why L so adamantly refused to reveal himself, we can explain it very simply: doing so was dangerous. Very dangerous. While the world leaders should make efforts to ensure the safety of all the finest minds, not only for detectives, the fact is that the current societal systems do not allow for this, and L believed he had no choice but to protect his mind under his own power. By simple arithmetic, L's ability in 2002 was the equivalent of five ordinary investigative bureaus, and seven intelligence agencies (and by the time he faced off against Kira, those numbers had leapt upward several more notches). This is easy to think of as a reason to respect and admire someone, but let me say this as clearly as possible: that much ability in one human is extremely dangerous. Modern danger management techniques rely heavily on defusing risk, but his very existence was the exact opposite. In other words, if someone was planning to commit a crime, they would greatly increase their chances of getting away with it by simply killing L before they began. That was why L hid his identity. Not because he was shy, or because he never left the house. To ensure his own safety. For a detective of L's ability, self-preservation and the preservation of world peace were one and the same, and it would not be correct to describe his actions as cowardly or self-centered." (pg. 69 nice)

"So whenever L was working, he would usually have someone else as his public face--and in this particular case, the FBI agent Naomi Misora was filling that role." (pg. 70)

"Beyond Birthday had the eyes of a shinigami congenitally. It was not particularly difficult for him to track down people with the initials B.B. or find people who were fated to die on a certain day at a certain time." (pg. 94)

"Normally contact with a shinigami was a prerequisite for acquisition, but Beyond Birthday had traded nothing--he had seen through those eyes since before he could remember. He knew your name before you said it. He knew the time of death of every person he met." (pg. 94)

"You might think [the eyes] would hardly be useful without a Death Note, but that is simply not the case. The ability to see someone's remaining life is the ability to see death. Death, death, death. Beyond Birthday lived his life unceasingly reminded that all humans would eventually die. From the time he was born he knew the day his father would be attacked by a thug and die, knew the day his mother would die in a train crash. He had these eyes before he was born, which is why he called himself Beyond Birthday. Which is why a child as strange as he was taken in by our home, sweet home--Wammy's House. He was B. The second child in Wammy's House." (pg. 94-95)

"The competition between L and B. L and B's puzzle. 'If L's a genius, then B's an extreme genius. If L's a freak, then B's an extreme freak. Now it's time to get ready. There are things I must do before B can surpass L. Henh henh henh henh.' This thought was the only thing that made him laugh without needing to think about it. And those that know will recognize the laugh of the shinigami. Still grinning to himself, he faced the mirror, brushed his hair, and began applying his makeup. The reflection of himself in the mirror. Himself. As always, he could not see his own time of death. No more than he could see the death of the world." (pg. 96)

"We were raised at Wammy's House in England, in Winchester, as L's successors, as L's alternatives, but that does not mean we knew anything more about L than anyone else. Including myself, only a few of us ever met L as L, and even I knew nothing about L before he met Watari--Quillish Wammy, the genius inventor who founded Wammy's House. Nobody knows what's going on in L's head. But even so, I know how Watari felt. Looking at L's incredible talents from the perspective of an inventor--of course he wanted to make a copy, of course he wanted to create a backup. Anyone would feel the same. As I have already explained, L never appeared in public. L knew that his own death would increase the crime rate all over the world by a few dozen percentage points. But what if they could copy him? What if they could make a backup? That was us. L's children, gathered from all corners of the world.

"But even for a genius like Watari, creating a fake L was easier said than done. Even for Near and I, who were said to be the closest to L...the more we tried to be like him, the closer we got, the father away he was, like chasing a mirage. So I hardly need to tell you what it was like when Wammy's House was first founded, when he was still experimenting. The first child, A, was unable to handle the pressure of living up to L and took his own life, and the second child, Beyond Birthday, was brilliant and deviant. B stood for Backup.

"But B tried to surpass L, not become him...no, that might not be right. I have no way of knowing the inner workings of his mind. He...their generation was not like the fourth generation, with Near and I, all the children bound only to the code with the serial L. They were prototypes, never even given the L code, expected to fail. I prefer to refrain from idle speculation based on my own experiences, but, well, Beyond Birthday may have thought something like this: As long as there was L, B would never be L. As long as the original existed, the copy was always a copy." (pg. 104-105)

"The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases. L.A.B.B.--L is After Beyond Birthday. This reading is why I think this name is so much closer to the killer's intentions than the Wara Ningyo Murders, or the Los Angeles Serial Locked Room Killings. I wasn't talking about the names on a purely stylistic basis. Whether Beyond Birthday had put that much thought into it I have no idea, but if he had a specific reason for choosing to commit his murders in L.A., then that is probably why. I am sure he had a much more personal obsession with L as an individual than Near or I ever did. I can understand why someone would become a criminal in order to fight against a detective, which is why I can write something like this, but even so. What did he hope to accomplish by killing unrelated people? Or perhaps B simply wanted to meet L. Then he could use the eyes of the shinigami he'd been born with and see L's real name, see when L would die. He would be able to figure out who L was. Beyond Birthday had never told anyone that he had the eyes of a shinigami, and it would not surprise me at all if he believed himself to be some kind of shinigami." (pg. 105-106)

"Beyond Birthday challenged L. And L accepted the challenge. To put it bluntly, the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases were nothing but an internal struggle, a civil war within our home, sweet home-- Wammy's House. Unfortunate for the victims that got mixed up in it, but even if Beyond Birthday had not killed them, all those victims were fated to die that day, at that time, for some other reason, so logically and morally, their deaths were unavoidable. So in the strictest sense of the word, the only one who really got mixed up in their war was Naomi Misora." (pg. 106)

"L was said to never move on a case unless there were more than ten victims or a million dollars at stake. The only exceptions to this were cases at difficulty level L (extremely fitting), or when L had personal reasons compelling him to get involved. The Los Angeles BB Murders were both of these. I hardly need to point out the difficulty by this stage of the story, and L was essentially fighting his own dead copy. [harsh, dude.] The current head of Wammy's House had told Quillish Wammy/Watari, who had told L about B's disappearance in May, and ever since L had been looking for him even as he solved other cases. Wammy's House only knew him as B--they did not know his real name, Beyond Birthday, so this search was near impossible, but L knew who the killer was. He had not been looking for a killer so much as he was looking for a case. L had been waiting, expecting Beyond Birthday to do something to challenge him. L could move any policeman in the world, but in this case, he could not ask anyone for help except Naomi Misora...more than likely, for this reason. I don't think L really put that much stock in honor, but everyone is embarrassed by their own sins, and nobody wants those missteps to become public knowledge. L was the goal of everyone in Wammy's House. Every one of us wanted to surpass him. To step over him. To step on him. M did, N did, and B did. M as a challenger, N as a successor. B as a criminal." (pg. 116-117)

"No matter what she did, she had no way of knowing. That this killer, Beyond Birthday, could tell someone's name and time of death just by looking at their face, that he had been born with the eyes of a shinigami--she had no way of knowing that fake names were useless with him, completely and utterly pointless. How could she have known? Even Beyond Birthday himself could not explain how he had been born with the eyes of the shinigami, how he could use them with no payment, with no arrangement. Neither Misora nor L knew why, and, obviously, neither do I. The closest thing to an explanation I can offer is that there are shinigami stupid enough to drop their notebooks in our world, so there might well be shinigami stupid enough to drop their eyes." (pg. 193-140)

"'So, Naomi Misora...' said L, wrapping up. But Misora hastily stammered, 'Um, er, L...' but then she hesitated, not sure if she should ask this or not. 'You...know the killer, right?' 'Yes, as I said. He is B.' 'I don't mean like that...I mean, he's someone you know personally?' On the 16th, L had said that he had known the killer was B, and she had sort of known ever since, but two days before, L had said something that changed her guess to conviction. Whatever you do, please catch the killer. The century's greatest detective, L, would never say that about some ordinary indiscriminate serial killer. And the way his letter was just one letter long... 'Yes,' the synthetic voice agreed." (pg. 144-145)

"'I have nothing to do with him,' L said. 'To be completely accurate, I do not even know B. He is simply someone I am aware of. But none of this affects my judgement. Certainly, I was interested in this case, and began to investigate it because I knew who the killer was. But that did not alter the way I investigated it, or the manner in which my investigation proceeded. Naomi Misora, I cannot overlook evil. I cannot forgive it. It does not matter if I know the person who commits evil or not. I am only interested in justice.'" (pg. 145)

"My great and respected predecessor, the man whose actions were a strong influence on me personally, B, B.B., Beyond Birthday--obviously, I need hardly explain again that the murders themselves were not his purpose. So what was he doing? Again, I hardly need to explain--he was challenging the man he copied, the century's greatest detective L. A matter of winning or losing. A contest." (pg. 159)

"Since L could solve every case no matter how challenging, if he created a case so difficult that L as unable to solve it, B would have defeated L." (pg. 159)

"He knew that the moment he took action Wammy's House and Watari would alert L, so he did not even bother trying to stop them. He could only guess at which stage of his plan L would start to come after him, so he prepared things carefully, ready for L's entrance at any point." (pg. 159)

"B approached Naomi Misora, calling himself Rue Ryuzaki. Rue Ryuzaki--L.L. For anyone from Wammy's House, there could be no higher goal than identifying yourself with that letter--and Beyond Birthday seized this case as his chance. even Naomi Misora knew what had happened to detectives falsely identifying themselves as L, and B was from Wammy's House, so he knew this better than anyone--so this choice suggests the strength of his decision. He never once intended to survive--had had made up his mind. He was ready." (pg. 160) [trans. note: the name "Rue" in Japanese, ルエ (ru-e), is an anagram of エル (e-ru), which is how L is pronounced.]

"Naturally, his face and fingerprints would burn as well--he had always disguised himself with heavy makeup while he was with Misora, and he never left a picture behind, so even if someone directly affiliated with Wammy's House inspected the body, they would have no idea that Rue Ryuzaki/Beyond Birthday was B from Wammy's House. He had left nothing to connect Beyond Birthday to B." (pg. 162)

"B was presenting the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases to L as a case that could never be solved. That L could never solve. In other words, he had never prepared any clear solution to it--since the killer had committed suicide, disguised as the fourth victim, there was no longer a killer to catch, and no clues left to catch him with." (pg. 163)

"My poor, poor predecessor. Not only was he utterly and completely defeated, but he survived, driving home his embarrassment...he must have longed for death. Accept my condolences, B." (pg. 169-170)

"If I had space left over I had intended to carry right on into the other two stories I heard from L: the story of the detective war between the three greatest detectives, all solving that infamous bio-terror case, with guest appearances by the last of the alphabet, the first X to the first Z from Wammy's House; and the story of how the world's greatest inventor, Quillish Wammy, aka Watari, had first met L, then about eight year's old--the case that gave birth to the century's greatest detective, the Winchester Mad Bombings that occurred just after the third World War. But however objectively I look at things, I do not have the space or the time. Oh well." (pg. 170)

"She had spoken to L only once after the killer was arrested. He thanked her for helping to solve the case, and told her just a little about the background of the case. That B had been a candidate to succeed L, and that the pressure of that had driven him off track." (pg. 171)

"And a few years after his arrest, on January 21st, 2004, serving a life sentence in a California prison, Beyond Birthday died of a mysterious heart attack." (pg. 173)

C-KIRA: (read here)

near grief :pensive: pretty sure this was animated in the anime movie thing?? tbh i still need to watch that. Very interesting as some of the most recent post-main story lore we get about wammy's imo. less quotes now + more summarizing since these are just comics

near has apparently only "talked" to L once (in quotes since he didn't actually say anything, just sat in the back of the room doing a puzzle the entire time. real asf girl)

during this "conversation," roger or one of the orphanage heads set up the usual L screen + a camera/mic so that L could see all the kids and answer their questions.

notably, mello & near didn't ask any questions, just lurked in the back watching L with a "nasty look in [their] eyes," which near assumes is what made him pick them to be his top successors, considering the fact that he didn't actually look at any of their data. (somewhat seems to imply that L didn't actually give a shit about grades or anything like that when picking his main successors?)

while answering questions, near is caught off guard by one of L's answers. to transcribe it all directly here--

NEAR (NARRATING): At the time, I didn't think L would put it so bluntly. L: It's not a sense of justice. L: Figuring out difficult cases is my hobby. If you measured good and evil deeds by current laws, I would be responsible for many crimes. L: The same way you all like to solve mysteries and riddles, or clear video games more quickly... For me too, its simply prolonging something I enjoy doing. L: That's why I only take on cases that pique my interest. It's not justice at all. And if it means being able to clear a case, I don't play fair, I'm a dishonest, cheating human being, who hates losing...

not quite the monster speech, but fascinating all the same. near seems to imply that this answer sent some kids into a despair spiral, but it actually caused him to like L more and more, feeling that he was, "exactly the kind of person who wanted to achieve his own goals." kinda goes against the HTR13 ohba comment? shrug

The Wammy's House/L's One Day: (read here)

honestly i interpret these comics as like. canon crack fic. but anyways, here's the established L lore included in these two.

L was taken into wammy's as a nameless orphan at an unknown but likely quite young age

very soon after arriving he beats up all the other kids he meets--

he is "utterly incompatible," with all the other kids and monopolizes all the things he likes simply cause he's stronger than them and presumably could fight them for it-- naturally, he ends up usually just playing by himself

notably, this all establishes that L isn't the first kid at wammy's, that there was already at least one generation of older kids living there before he got there (and could eventually turn it into an L successor creating machine)

once watari realizes that L has some outstanding mental abilities, he gives him his own private room and a computer. afterwards, L spends most of his time sitting in front of the puter by himself

L requests that watari buy 1 million pounds with Japanese yen and tells him which stocks to buy, causing his assets to reach "almost 20,000 times the original amount," in two years. visually this is depicted as happening when L is still quite young

several years later, L stumbles across a serial murder case in the news, which is the first he solves, starting his new career path

-

L can stay awake for 100+ hours and then gets over it by sleeping for like 17 hours. pictures also may imply that he doesn't actually sleep in a bed, but just lies down sideways in his chair. RIP yotsuba light's perfectly designed sleep schedule

L also shits/pisses in the same position he usually sits in (frog-pose), facing the tank south park style

he is a big fan of cleanliness!! human washing machine etc. etc. honestly i think this is just another way for him to hold that same crouched position

text says he always has, "ten or so identical sets of clothes prepared for him," since he's picky about it, but the art itself shows way more than ten. also rare shirtless L moment?? (watari helps)

L does in fact go outside!! he likes roller coasters/theme parks, swinging, art galleries, live music, etc. though most of the time he just sits in his room thinking thru shit n solving cases.

[frankingsteinery]

i mentioned victor's delusions in brief previously (here), but because of the inherent complexity (and almost contradictory aspect) of their nature i decided it warranted its own post!

victor, alongside other psychotic symptoms, experiences delusions of guilt and persecution. a delusion is an involuntary belief that isn't rooted in logic or evidence; a person experiencing a delusion is fixed in their belief, and they can't stop believing it even if they know it isn't true and/or despite contrary evidence.

while victor's delusions–specifically regarding those that revolve around the creature–by in large turn out to actually be true, i.e. the creature actually harmed his family and victor by extension, during the point in the novel when he was experiencing them, he has no evidence to suggest that this was the case, and within the context of the rest of his symptoms, they'd still be considered delusional ideas.

for a variety of reasons, i'm still on the fence on whether i'd categorize victor's mania and grandiosity during the creation process as constituting delusions of grandeur. and to what extent is this sense of grandiosity justified, because he DID discover the secret of life itself… does that not almost warrant the feeling of being superiorly intelligent, this sense of infallibly, and the belief that they should be lauded for their achievements, in almost anyone who could have made the same discovery? it's tricky because i’m not sure if i just have an aversion to the "victor had grandiose delusions during the creation process" take simply because the vast, vast majority of those who make that argument also make the argument that delusion of grandeur = arrogance = evil = victor sucks (and that line of thinking is a whole separate can of worms in of itself…), or if i actually don’t wholly agree with it; for this reason i won’t touch on this here yet

with that out of the way–

like i’ve stated before, victor’s psychotic breaks are either triggered by the stress of the creation process or the death of one of his loved ones. this results in delusions of persecution, which is defined as when the affected person believes that harm is going to occur to oneself or those close to them by a persecutor, in this case the creature, despite a clear lack of evidence. initially, this starts with paranoia:

“Every night I was oppressed by a slow fever, and I became nervous to a most painful degree; the fall of a leaf startled me, and I shunned my fellow creatures as if I had been guilty of a crime. Sometimes I grew alarmed at the wreck I perceived that I had become…”

“With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet”

this paranoia develops into a delusion as victor’s belief that the creature means him harm, despite having nothing to support this idea, becomes fixed. this comes to a head after the creature’s animation: 

“I beheld the wretch…He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped and rushed downstairs…where I remained during the rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life”

“I issued into the streets, pacing them with quick steps, as if I sought to avoid the wretch whom I feared every turning of the street would present to my view. I did not dare return to the apartment which I inhabited, but felt impelled to hurry on”

delusions can often feel like a sudden truth (the false belief) has been revealed to you. victor himself notes this sudden, extreme shift in perspective within himself:

“...dreams that had been my food and pleasant rest for so long a space were now become a hell to me; and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete!”

as victor recovers physically, this delusion becomes less present as the acute phase ends, and victor’s fears regarding the creature fade into the background as he enters the recovery phase. he stays in this manner until psychosis is again triggered by the stressor of william’s murder–then, victor’s delusion of persecution returns. however, this time, he believes the creature is not only going to harm himself, but was the murderer of william. once more, this starts with paranoia:

“Fear overcame me; I dared no advance, dreading a thousand nameless evils that made me tremble, although I was unable to define them…The picture appeared a vast and dim scene of evil, and I foresaw obscurely that I was destined to become the most wretched of human beings.”

and then develops into a fixed belief:

“I perceived in the gloom a figure which stole from behind a clump of trees near me; I stood fixed, gazing intently: I could not be mistaken. A flash of lightning illuminated the object, and discovered its shape plainly to me; its gigantic stature, and the deformity of its aspect more hideous than belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch…Could he be (I shuddered at the conception) the murderer of my brother? No sooner did that idea cross my imagination, than I became convinced of its truth… He was the murderer! I could not doubt it. The mere presence of the idea was an irresistible proof of the fact.”

while it turned out that he was actually correct in this assumption, what’s important to emphasize here is that victor has absolutely ZERO proof that the creature was involved with the murder of william, apart from seeing a shady-looking outline outside of geneva after walking in the rain all night. victor is not thinking clearly here, which he himself acknowledges in a phenomenon known as double book-keeping. double book-keeping refers to a mental process where an individual maintains two conflicting beliefs or realities simultaneously--where a person might experience delusions or hallucinations while still having moments of awareness that these perceptions are not grounded in reality. here, victor holds two realities (believing in a delusion while being aware that this belief would not be shared by others):

” My first thought was to discover what I knew of the murderer, and cause instant pursuit to be made. But I paused when I reflected on the story that I had to tell. A being whom I myself had formed, and endued with life, had met me at midnight among the precipices of an inaccessible mountain. I remembered also the nervous fever with which I had been seized just at the time that I dated my creation, and which would give an air of delirium to a tale otherwise so utterly improbable. I well knew that if any other had communicated such a relation to me, I should have looked upon it as the ravings of insanity…”

and, in fact, the only evidence he has is (seemingly) proof to the contrary i.e. the locket found in justine’s pocket. yet victor holds this belief with the intense conviction characteristic of delusions, as well as the incorrigibility of a delusion, as he’s continually resistant to his family’s logical counterarguments, as ernest recounts the events to victor upon his return home:

“This was a strange tale, but it did not shake my faith; and I replied earnestly, “You are all mistaken; I know the murderer. Justine, poor, good Justine, is innocent.”

he goes on to make the same assertion to his father and elizabeth, without once questioning the validity of his previous belief. 

victor develops delusions of guilt surrounding the trial of justine, the delusional belief of one's personal guilt for an event, real or imagined–it is an extreme and unwarranted feeling of remorse or guilt that someone has done something terrible. people with delusions of guilt may also believe they are "evil" or have committed an "unpardonable" sin and deserve to be punished forever. despite having no hand in the results of the trial, and again, no proof that the creature was even involved, victor is convinced of his guilt to the point of agony. for example:

”My own agitation and anguish was extreme during the whole trial. I believed in her innocence; I knew it. Could the dæmon who had (I did not for a minute doubt) murdered my brother also in his hellish sport have betrayed the innocent to death and ignominy? … The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom and would not forgo their hold.”

”During this conversation I had retired to a corner of the prison room, where I could conceal the horrid anguish that possessed me. Despair! Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such deep and bitter agony…But I, the true murderer, felt the never-dying worm alive in my bosom, which allowed of no hope or consolation.”

  The blood flowed freely in my veins, but a weight of despair and remorse pressed on my heart which nothing could remove. Sleep fled from my eyes; I wandered like an evil spirit, for I had committed deeds of mischief beyond description horrible, and more, much more (I persuaded myself) was yet behind… I was seized by remorse and the sense of guilt, which hurried me away to a hell of intense tortures such as no language can describe.

delusions of guilt are often accompanied by low self-esteem, depression, and sometimes suicide (attempts); victor experiences all of these following the trial. this delusion is maintained throughout the rest of the novel.

lastly, during the chase at the arctic and on walton’s ship, victor experiences delusions surrounding his family. in his final attempt to hold onto those he lost, victor becomse unable to distinguish between reality and the delusions that sustain him:

"During the day I was sustained and inspirited by the hope of night, for in sleep I saw my friends, my wife, and my beloved country… I persuaded myself that I was dreaming until night should come and that I should then enjoy reality in the arms of my dearest friends. What agonising fondness did I feel for them! How did I cling to their dear forms, as sometimes they haunted even my waking hours, and persuade myself that they still lived!...I pursued my path towards the destruction of the dæmon more as a task enjoined by heaven, as the mechanical impulse of some power of which I was unconscious, than as the ardent desire of my soul."

Yet he enjoys one comfort, the offspring of solitude and delirium; he believes that when in dreams he holds converse with his friends and derives from that communion consolation for his miseries or excitements to his vengeance, that they are not the creations of his fancy, but the beings themselves who visit him from the regions of a remote world."

ultimately victor's delusions evolve throughout the novel; what starts as paranoia becomes a fixed belief that the creature means to harm him and his family, which eventually develops into a certainty that he's responsible for the deaths of his loved ones. by the time he reaches the arctic, he clings to delusions of his family still being alive and that they're talking to him.

i'll probably make yet another post dissecting what this all means in context, i.e. like avo said; the implications of the treatment of victor as a character due to these symptoms of a "weird" "scary" illness... buuuut. again. another time!

[walkswithmyfather]

“The Greatest man in history, had no servants, yet they called him Master. Had no degree, yet they called him Teacher. Had no medicines, yet they called him Healer. He had no army, yet kings feared Him. He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world. He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him. He was buried in a tomb, yet He lives today. His name is Jesus.”

Amen! 🙏🕊️🙌

[lewmagoo]

the killing moon | rhett abbott

part four of the wolf series ; must read previous parts before reading this one

listen to the playlist here

description: in which a wolf receives the greatest honor, but pays the ultimate price

characters: werewolf rhett abbott x werewolf f!reader, reader and rhett's children, my own ocs as members of the abbott pack

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, breeding kink, outdoor sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death and murder, civil unrest, angst, violence, blood, bodily injury

It had been seven years. 

Seven years since that fateful day when your very life was put in grave danger, all because of the actions of one man. Seven years since you were stolen from your mate and brought to harm at the hands of ruthless werewolf hunters. 

It was all behind you now. The trauma still remained, but it had been soothed over the years, its pain lessening to a dull ache in your heart whenever you thought about it. Smoothed over by the loving hands of your husband. And by four tiny sets of hands that were a product of your love for each other. 

Things had changed in those seven years. Since that incident, the Supreme Court had cracked down on werewolf protection laws, at the prompting of the National Werewolf League. The penalty for werewolf hunting grew heavier. Zero-tolerance policies for the ‘sport’ were passed in every state. 

The Tillerson family was put entirely out of business. Following the death of Patricia during the harrowing moment of your rescue, Luke and Billy, the only remaining members of the family, were sentenced hefty to life in prison for their participation in your abduction. 

The NWL made a public example of them, using it as a way to send a message that told the nation that hunting was punishable to the highest degree of the law. No exceptions 

It started a revolution of sorts. Others came forward, with stories of how they had also been targeted by hunters. Gone were the days of being afraid to speak out. Wolves everywhere were empowered to stand up to those who’d inflicted harm upon them. 

And slowly but surely, hunting was eradicated. 

You and your pack never had to worry about hunters encroaching on your land again. The past agreement that Royal Abbott and Wayne Tillerson had come to over which plot of land wolves were allowed to live on was now null and void. You were free to take up residence wherever you pleased. 

Your pack, a mix of your own family, and the remaining members of Rhett’s, had banded together on the day you and Rhett had gotten married. The joining of two mates during a sacred ceremony, where you became one blood and one soul. 

Since then, you had lost a few members of the pack. Namely, you’d lost Rhett’s father, and his brother. Their involvement in the murder of Trevor Tillerson, with Perry committing the crime and Royal aiding him in covering it up, had brought the law down on them. 

Perry was sentenced to life in prison. Royal received a lesser sentence, but still had several more years to fulfill before he was reintegrated into society again. 

As for Perry’s daughter, Amy, she was already eighteen years old. After her father’s sentencing, you and Rhett had made the decision to take her in. His mother, Cecelia, took the aftermath hard. Losing her son and husband all at once was a lot for her. She fully admitted that she was not equipped to care for her granddaughter, so she turned her over to your and Rhett’s custody. 

You welcomed that little girl into your life, treating her as if she were your own. The two of you were closely bonded, even more so after what you had been through. Amy was more than happy to come live in your and Rhett’s home. Especially because that meant she would be there when you welcomed your first little pup into the world. 

A few months after your traumatic experience with the hunters, you gave birth to a healthy baby girl. She was the perfect mix of you and Rhett. She had his button nose. She had your eyes. She was beautiful. You named her Arya. 

Amy was overjoyed to have a tiny cousin to look after. She would hold and entertain the little one while you were occupied with other things. She never wanted to be away from the baby. You tried to encourage her to play with other children in the pack that were her age, but she didn’t seem to want to. She hadn’t bonded with them in the way that she’d bonded with you and Rhett. 

After spending a good portion of her young life with a physically absent mother and an emotionally absent father, she was holding on to the last two stable adult relationships she had left. The two of you gave her a sense of security that she’d never had before. She felt safe and cared for, for the first time in a long time. If she needed you to be surrogate parents to help her overcome the past trauma she had experienced, you were more than happy to be that for her. 

Along with Amy and Arya, your family began to grow in the next few years. Soon, you had a son, who you named Maximillian. Max for short. Following her, you had another daughter named Leia. And finally, you had your youngest, Zoella. All good, strong names that had once belonged to ancestors of your pack. 

There was something so special about raising your children in a pack. It wasn’t just family. You were all connected by blood and by spirit. A bond that withstood the test of time. You wanted your pups to grow up knowing their elders. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, those who had lived through times in history when wolves did not have the liberty to live freely within society. Times when they were mistreated and abused, simply for being who they were. 

Things had changed since then. Your community now had freedoms and protections that it had once been deprived of. Your children were growing up in a world where they were free to live where they wanted, be who they wanted, without hiding their true selves. 

But you never wanted them to forget all their ancestors and elders had endured to get to this point. 

It was important to you and Rhett that you gave them a strong foundation. Growing up, he didn’t have the kind of pack that you did. His family was dysfunctional at best. 

In the werewolf world, there was strength in numbers. His pack, if one could even call it that, had been small. Royal was the alpha. There was Cecilia, his mate. And Perry and Rhett, his boys. The only person to join the pack had been Rebecca, Perry’s wife. He had convinced himself and everyone around him that they were mates, when they were in fact, not. 

Even so, the product of their marriage was Amy. These six members made up the Abbott pack. Their small size made them vulnerable. That was why, when your pack came passing through, looking for sanctuary, they allowed you to have it. 

It was through that, that you met Rhett. From the very moment you came into one another’s presence, you knew you were mates. This led to your packs joining together as one. And Royal willingly surrendered his alpha status to Malakai, your uncle, and the alpha of your own pack. 

And for the first time in his life, Rhett felt like he was part of something. There was so much love within your pack. Everyone respected each other. Wolf customs were observed and held especially sacred. He’d never had that with his own family. Yes, he knew of his heritage, and he knew that being a werewolf was special. But that was as far as it went. 

He found a sense of belonging within your pack. And he knew in his heart that he never wanted his children to grow up the way he did, in a dysfunctional, broken pack. No, they would only ever know love, security, and safety. They would know where they came from and what their purpose was in the world. 

He made good on those promises. 

In your eyes, he was made to be a father. He embraced the role with ease, determined to do better than his own father had done with him. Where he had been told to “suck it up and be a man,” he told young Max, “it’s okay to cry. Sometimes ya just need to let it out.” Where he had been yelled at, he never raised his voice at his children. And if there were times when he lost his cool in front of them, he always made it a point to apologize in the end and make it right. 

He wasn’t perfect, but he worked hard every day of his life to be the father his pups needed him to be. And for that, you admired and respected him. 

Your love for him already burned like an unkempt flame, but seeing him raise your children? It grew tenfold. And as the years past, that love that you shared never wavered. It was undying. Eternal. 

You had watched him flourish over the last seven years. Without his family to hold him back, he had come into his own. He was an integral part of your pack, and did all he could to protect its sanctity. 

His deep loyalty had caught the attention of the pack elders. Especially your Uncle Malakai. He was getting up in years, and knew that he needed to hand off his responsibilities as alpha to someone who was younger and full of life. He had his sights set on Rhett, unbeknownst to you. 

Malakai consulted the pack elders, presenting who he wanted to choose to replace him. They were all in agreement that Rhett was the best choice for the job. 

And so, one evening in late October, you received a knock at your door. You had just finished dinner, and the kids were beginning their bedtime routine. 

Their favorite part of the evening was getting to curl up on the couch in the living room while their daddy read them a story. That time together as a family was sacred to you and Rhett. To bond with your little ones, to have a moment of peace as he read to them from a book of their choosing. You cherished every moment. 

But that night, that moment was interrupted by a guest. 

“I’ll get it,” Amy announced, already heading for the door. 

Rhett was just getting the kids settled on the couch, with you coming to join them all. You paused, however, when you heard your uncle’s voice. 

“Uncle Malakai’s here,” Amy called over her shoulder, moving aside to let the man in. 

“Evenin’, Abbotts,” he greeted you all, smiling warmly. 

Your oldest three children jumped up in excitement, immediately rushing over to hug their uncle. You smiled at their enthusiasm. They loved him so much. 

“Hey, we just finished dinner. Want a plate to take home with you?” You asked him. 

He shook his head as he lifted your youngest, Zoella, onto his hip, cooing at her. “No thanks sweetheart. I actually came to speak with you and Rhett.”

Behind you, Rhett rose to his feet. “Everythin’ alright?” He asked. 

Malakai held his gaze. “Yeah, everything’s fine. But it is important.”

“Okay, gimme one minute.” Rhett turned to address the kids. “Alright pups, Mama and Daddy have to go talk to Uncle Malakai for a few minutes. You be good for Amy, alright?”

“Okay Daddy!” They all echoed, and Amy took over tending to them, grabbing Zoella from Malakai to free his hands up before he turned to lead you both outside. 

Once on the porch, blanketed by cool night air, shoes thudding against solid wood, Rhett pulled the door shut behind the three of you. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Rhett questioned. You moved to stand beside him, your shoulder brushing against his. 

“I’ve got news. Bittersweet news. But I wanted to personally deliver it to you myself.” Malakai leaned against the porch railing, folding his arms over his chest. “If ya couldn’t tell, I’m gettin’ old. I’m not the wolf I used to be. My senses are dull, and I don’t think I can lead this pack effectively anymore. So I’m lookin’ for someone to replace me.”

His eyes never left Rhett’s. There was an intensity behind them, a conviction. Beside your husband, your breath caught in your throat. You knew what was coming next. So did Rhett. 

“Rhett, I’ve thought long and hard about it, and I want you to take my place.” He went quiet for a moment, allowing the news to sink in. 

Rhett let out an incredulous breath, shaking his head as he brought his hand up to run his fingers absently over his jaw. He knew what an honor this was, and he was floored. 

“Wh…why? There are plenty’a other pack members who are probably a lot more qualified than I am.” His disbelief was palpable. 

Malakai shook his head. “I took it to the elders. We’re all in agreement. We firmly believe you are the best wolf to lead this pack. Will you accept this honor?”

How could he deny it? Rhett had great respect and admiration for Malakai. He felt that declining this offer would be a slap to the face. And even more so, he had a duty to fulfill. To his pack. To his mate. To his children. 

“Yes. I’ll accept it,” Rhett finally replied. 

Malakai’s face broke into a grin. He stepped forward, reaching out to shake Rhett’s hand. “My boy. I’m so glad you said that.”

Rhett smiled back, though there was trepidation in his eyes. “So what happens next? I’ve never been part of an alpha ceremony.”

Malakai nodded. “Don’t worry, you’ll meet with the elders soon and they’ll discuss everything. The ceremony will happen on the next full moon. Which, coincidentally, is next Friday.”

Rhett’s eyes widened. He only had a week to prepare for this? It seemed like it was happening so fast. His chest tightened with anxiety. Had he really just agreed to this? The highest, most sacred honor in the wolf community? 

“A-alright,” was all he could say. 

You could sense his uncertainty. You placed a steady hand between his shoulder blades, and he relaxed a little under your touch. 

“I’ll get the elders together, and we’ll meet tomorrow morning at sun up, at my place. How does that sound?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’ll be there.”

Malakai bid you farewell before he walked off into the night, leaving you and Rhett alone on your porch. You stood there in silence for a beat, both of you processing what you had just been told. 

Slowly, you turned toward your husband, and as realization set in, your eyes filled with tears. “Rhett…” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

His eyes, blue and impossibly deep, met yours. “I know,” he whispered back. 

Without warning, you lurched forward, throwing your arms around his neck. His own arms instinctively came up to wind around your waist. You held each other, standing on your porch in the cool night air. 

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered when you parted, his voice thick with emotion. 

You smiled, lifting your hand to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. “I can. You deserve this, my love. I can’t think of a better man to take on this responsibility.”

He let out a breath, a plume of condensation puffing out into the air, his head shaking as he did so. “I don’t know about that.”

You touched his face, bringing his chin up so he’d look at you. “Don’t you dare sell yourself short, Rhett. You’ve earned this. And you’ll be the alpha this pack needs, I just know it.” You leaned in to tenderly kiss him, and he reciprocated, mouth moving against yours with ease, familiar and soft.

“I love you, little wolf,” he murmured against your mouth when you parted. 

“I love you too. And I’m so proud of you.” You nuzzled your nose against his before you reluctantly pulled away. “Guess we should go back inside and wrangle the pups.”

“Guess we should.” He slipped his arm around you, and you sauntered back into the comforting warmth of your home.

That night, after the littles were all tucked in their beds, safe and warm, Rhett lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation with Malakai. This was a life-altering moment. Things would never be the same again after this. It was the most important role he would ever fulfill, aside from his role as your mate and as a father to his children.

Was he cut out for this? Could he lead an entire pack of werewolves? This was no longer limited to just his family depending on him. This was an entire community. He would be the figurehead of the Northeast Wyoming Pack, representing a growing population of wolves, the largest in the entire state, in fact. The thought of being their leader scared the hell out of him.

But he would be a fool to turn down an opportunity like this. Not to mention, it would be seen as disrespectful to Malakai to decline this honor. So, the very next morning, he rose before the sun, ready to face the elders and formally tell them that he accepted this position.

You stirred when you heard him moving about the room, and you turned onto your side, squinting in the light that streamed in from the bathroom. When he saw that you were awake, he stopped at your side of the bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Gonna go meet the elders now,” he whispered.

“Mm,” you hummed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Good luck.”

“Thank y’ darlin’,” came his reply. He returned your hand squeeze before he finally slipped away, pausing to shut off the bathroom light before he made his way down the steps. He was quiet on his feet so as not to wake the rest of the house, stopping at the door to grab his boots before he stepped out onto the porch, taking a seat on the bench near the door to put them on. 

He let out a soft sigh, steeling himself before he stood and began the trek across the property toward Malakai’s place, where the elders regularly met. The entire walk, his mind was spinning, trying to process the fact that he was going to stand before these revered wolves and begin the journey of receiving alpha status. Never in a million years would he have dreamed this would be happening.

But it was, and soon, he was on Malakai’s doorstep, lifting a hand to knock on the door, and taking a deep breath to steady himself. Moments later, the door came open, and there was Malakai’s wife, Larissa, standing in the doorway.

She smiled warmly at Rhett. “Good mornin’, honey!” She greeted. “Come on in, I just put on a fresh pot of coffee. Everyone else is on the back deck.”

He thanked her, leaning in to give her a quick hug before he headed into the house, right to the sliding doors that led out onto the deck. There, the five pack elders awaited him, each of them seated at the large rectangle table in the middle of the deck.

When Malakai saw him, he stood. “There’s the man of the hour,” he said with a smile, as Rhett stepped outside to join the group.

“Mornin’,” Rhett replied, reaching out to shake Malakai’s hand. He looked around the table, bidding good morning to each elder.

Gwenevere, Leo, Nora, Matthias, and Sebastian. All the oldest members of the pack. The purpose of their counsel was to ensure everything was done decently and in order. They were advisors to the alpha. 

“Have a seat,” Malakai urged Rhett, and he did so, thanking him for his graciousness. Rhett tried to hide his nerves, clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders as he took a seat across them at the table. His heart quickened in his chest. He knew that all of them could hear it. They could already sense his unease.

Gwenevere leaned forward, her hands folded on the tabletop. Her eyes, stormy gray, remained fixed on Rhett’s face, regarding him with an unreadable expression. “Malakai tells us you are willing to accept his position as alpha of this pack.”

“Yes ma’am,” came Rhett’s response. 

“This is the highest honor you will ever be given. Are you prepared to put the needs of this pack for your own?” Sebastian spoke up.

“I am.”

“And are you willing to protect them, no matter the cost?”

Rhett looked directly into Sebastian’s eyes. “Yes. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this family.”

“Young wolf,” Nora interjected, pointing her finger at him. “Do you understand how sacred this job is? Do you realize what is at stake here?”

He did not waver beneath her hard gaze. His mind went to you and his children. There was nothing he would not to do keep you safe. And he knew that he would be just as diligent in safeguarding all the other wolves that would soon be under his care. 

“I do. And I have t’ say…before you all showed up here all those years ago, I never knew what it was like to be part of a pack. Not really. My family was all I had, and when my brother did what he did…after what happened to m’ wife…you didn’t turn your backs on me. You showed me what it means to be part of somethin’. And I’m honored that you’d let me take charge of this. I promise to do everythin’ I can to be the alpha these wolves need me to be.”

His words hung in the air, and he awaited a response with bated breath. 

Matthias was the one who spoke next. “Rhett, when Malakai brought your name up as a potential candidate to replace him, all of us were in agreement that you were the best fit for the job. I know that you won’t disappoint us.”

Rhett shook his head. “I won’t let you down. I swear to you.”

The alpha and the five elders regarded him silently, before Gwenevere finally broke that quiet moment. 

“Then it’s settled. By the light of the next full moon, you will be named alpha over this pack.”

And just like that, the meeting was adjourned. 

Rhett went home that morning, his mind still spinning just as it had been when he woke up. Reality was beginning to set in. This wasn’t a fantasy, this wasn’t a dream. This was real, he was going to become an alpha in just a few short days. 

He knew that there was someone who deserved to know the news. So, he detoured on his walk home, and instead headed for the house that he had grown up in. 

His boots crunched against the gravel as he sauntered up the drive. He knew Cecilia would be awake. She’d always been an early riser. And sure enough, when he made it up to the porch, he could hear her singing softly to herself as she worked in the kitchen, making breakfast. 

Rhett knocked on the door before he called out, “It’s Rhett, Ma!”

Moments later, she was at the door, pleasantly surprised to see him. “What a nice surprise!” She exclaimed as she reached out to hug him. He reciprocated, hugging her extra tight. 

“Just thought I’d stop by for a few minutes. Been a while since we talked,” he mused. 

Cece smiled warmly. “Well come on in!” She motioned for him to step inside, and he did so, following her as she strolled back into the kitchen. “I was just startin’ on breakfast. I can fix ya somethin’, if you want. Could pan scramble you an egg, just like you used to eat.”

Rhett gently declined. “No, I better not. Gonna head back and eat breakfast with the babies in a few,” he explained. 

Cece’s face fell slightly. “Oh, yes. I guess you wouldn’t want to miss breakfast with them. Lord knows your father regretted not spending more time with you and your brother.”

Rhett didn’t acknowledge the comment. He didn’t want to get into a discussion about Royal and Perry. Instead, he kept the mood lighthearted. “I came because I have somethin’ to tell ya’, Ma.”

Her curiosity was piqued. “What is it?” And then, “it’s not a new pup, is it?! That would be wonderful!”

But he shook his head. “No, it’s not a pup. But…well, I’ve been asked to be the alpha of our pack.”

A beat passed. Then another. Her eyes filled with tears. “Rhett, that’s…that’s wonderful,” she whispered in disbelief. She pulled him in for another hug. “Oh, my boy, my boy. I’m so proud of you!”

When they parted, they were both smiling from ear to ear. “I wanted you to know before they announced it to everyone.”

She lovingly touched his cheek. “Thank you. I really appreciate you tellin’ me.” Her eyes still glimmered with unshed tears. “I really am so proud. Your daddy is going to be too. I’ll have to call him up and let him know. Unless…you want to do it?” She looked up at him hopefully. 

Rhett hesitated. His relationship with Royal was complicated. He had not spoken to him in a long time. Although seven years had passed since your abduction, and finding out that Royal had been involved in covering up Perry’s crime, it had still left a mark. 

Rhett had been able to move on for the most part, but there was still a disconnect there between him and his father. It was the fact that he had chosen to protect his oldest son, over his youngest. He had betrayed the trust Rhett had in him, and it severed any bond they might have had. 

“You can just let ‘im know,” Rhett answered his mother. 

She tried to hide her disappointment. “Alright, I will.”

He sighed softly before he finally decided to bid her goodbye. “Well, that’s all I wanted to tell ya. Ceremony will be on the full moon.”

“I’ll be there,” she assured him. Then she hugged him again. “Look at you. One of my sons, an alpha.”

He mustered a smile. “Who woulda thought, huh?”

She patted his cheek. “I would have. You’re a good man, Rhett. And it ain’t because of anythin’ me or your father did. You chose to do the right thing because that’s just who you are. And because of that, I know you’ll be the best alpha this pack ever had.”

He felt tears well in his eyes. Praise was hard to come by from his parents. Royal especially. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d heard his father tell him he was proud of him. And even now, he doubted the man would say those words, despite the high honor that had just been bestowed upon him. 

“Thanks, Ma,” he whispered. 

“I meant every word.” She parted from him, stepping back and motioning to the door. “Now go on, get. Enjoy your breakfast with your family.”

After sparing her a final glance, he stepped back outside into the brisk October air, pausing to take a deep breath. He hadn’t expected speaking to his mother to bring up so many memories and emotions. He tried to keep in touch with her regularly, especially because she lived right down the way from him, and he had no excuse not to speak to her. 

But sometimes, it was hard. Going back to that house was a reminder of a childhood filled with unrest. Back then, he hadn’t noticed how unhealthy it was. It wasn’t until after you walked into his life, and you started a family of your own, that he realized what a stable, wholesome family unit was like. 

He mourned for that little boy who had not experienced gentleness from his father. The way Rhett was with his own children was not the way Royal had been with him. His father had been dismissive of his emotions. Men don’t cry. And certainly not men who are part wolf. 

It was something that Rhett still struggled with to this day. You had helped him considerably in learning to express his emotions, but he supposed he would always have that small voice within him, telling him he was weak for allowing emotion to bubble to the surface. 

But he tried his best to put those days of his childhood behind him. He had four little ones that he had the opportunity to show love and patience to. He could give them things he hadn’t had when he was a child. He could be a good father. 

Just like he would be a good alpha. 

Your words from the night before rang in his head as he walked back to your house. Don’t you dare sell yourself short, Rhett. You’ve earned this.

It was time he trusted in his own abilities. 

In the following days leading up to the ceremony, Rhett was thrumming with nerves. The children noticed something was off. 

You had explained to them that their father was going to be taking leadership of the pack, but you weren’t sure how well their little minds could fully process the magnitude of the situation. 

But they would soon witness it for themselves. As small as they were, with your oldest being seven, and your youngest being only one, you still wanted them to witness this monumental moment in their father’s life. 

Your heart was warmed when, the night before the ceremony, you heard your son Max talking to Rhett as he got the boy ready for bed. 

“I want to be an alpha just like you when I grow up, Daddy,” he said. 

Rhett hummed, ruffling his son’s hair. “And I bet you will, buddy. Couldn’t think of a better wolf to take my place.”

The five-year-old looked up at his dad. “Are you scared to be an alpha?” He could not enunciate his L’s yet, so the word came out as “owpha.”

You watched from the doorway, eyeing Rhett as he knelt down so that he was eye level with Max. He hesitated for only a moment. His instinct was to deny fear, but what good would that do to his son? He needed to own up to his feelings. He needed to be transparent, because he owed that much to his children. “Yeah, I am. And y’know what? It’s okay to be scared.”

Max nodded, his little face serious. “Mama says that all the time.”

“And she’s right. Sometimes we gotta do things that scare us, because in the end, somethin’ good will happen.”

You could see Max’s mind working behind his eyes. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re really brave.”

Rhett didn’t bother to hide his tears. He hugged his boy to his chest, his large hand coming up to rest at the back of his head, cradling him there. “Thank you, bud.”

You were touched, and tears reached your own eyes. Max had such a tender heart. Even at such a young age, he was sensitive to the feelings of those around him. You hoped he would never lose that sweet spirit.

After their conversation, Rhett gently coaxed him into bed, making sure the blankets were tucked in around him, before you finally made your presence known. You reached out, placing a steady hand against Rhett’s back as you leaned down to kiss your son on the forehead.

“Goodnight, sweet boy,” you whispered.

“‘Night, Mama.”

After he was settled, the two of you quietly left the room, and Rhett shut the door behind him. And just like that, all four of your children were tucked safely in their beds, leaving you with a moment of peace.

“He loves you so much, Rhett,” you whispered to your husband as you walked toward the steps that led up to your bedroom. 

He nodded, slipping his arm around your waist. “He’s a good boy. Reminds me a lot of me when I was a kid…just, different.”

You paused, turning to cup his cheek. “Different because he has a daddy who’s patient and loving.”

Rhett let out an unsteady breath. “I really try, y’know?”

“I know you do, and it shows. There’s no doubt in that boy’s mind that you love him. There’s no doubt in any of our pups’ minds about that.” You leaned in to kiss him tenderly, and he hummed against your mouth, his large hands coming up to rest at your hips. 

“I love you,” he confessed.

“I love you too,” came your reply as your fingers stroked at the scruffy edge of his jaw. Another kiss, and you spoke again, “Now c’mon, let’s get to bed. Got a big day ahead of you tomorrow. Need all the rest you can get.”

You kissed him again, your body lingering against his for a moment, relishing in the closeness. These past few days had been all out of sorts for you both. Rhett was so wrapped up in preparing for the alpha ceremony that he hadn’t taken a moment to just be with you. To hold you in his arms, to sit in the stillness. 

He realized that this was what he needed. You were what he needed, you were the healing balm. So, that night, he let you be that for him. Let you snuggle against his chest, and whisper reassuring words as you rested your head on his chest. And for the first night that entire week, he found rest. 

The next morning, he woke to the first rays of morning sun peeking in through the window. He was safe and warm in his bed, with his mate in his arms, and for those first few moments of consciousness, nothing else mattered. 

When you stirred, you found him gazing down at you. You smiled sleepily, cuddling up against him. “Mornin’, my love.” And then, your eyes met his. “It’s ceremony day.”

He let out a hum. “Mm. I’m so fuckin’ nervous.”

“I’ll be right there with you, baby. I promise.”

And he knew you would be. 

When you finally forced yourselves out of bed, you took the time to prepare him his favorite breakfast. You wanted to make him feel special, and you succeeded. He sat at the table with his two littles, Leia and Zoella, in his lap, while Arya and Max had pulled their chairs on either side of him to huddle in close. It was as if they could sense his trepidation and wanted to comfort him. Surrounded by his wife and babies, Rhett felt all the love and support in the world. He had everything he could ever ask for. 

In fact, throughout that entire day, all four children stayed glued to their father, and he let them. Their presence brought him comfort. In anticipation of this very day, you had kept Arya and Max home from school, because you knew they would be out of sorts with the upcoming ceremony. They needed to be here, with their pack. 

Not to mention, Rhett needed them. 

As each hour passed, bringing sunset closer and closer, Rhett grew more restless. The anticipation of the full moon always made wolves antsy, but that, paired with the knowledge that in a few short hours, he would become an alpha, increased that restlessness tenfold. 

While the children were occupied with an art project at the kitchen table, thanks to Amy, who had offered to set it up for them, Rhett kissed you and informed you that he was going on a run to clear his head. 

“Want me to come with you?” You offered, snuggling into his side. The two of you loved going on runs together. It was where you’d slip into wolf form and dash through the woods, running just to run. It was such a freeing sensation. 

Rhett smiled softly, shaking his head. “Nah, I think…I think I need to do this alone. Gotta get out of my head go back to my roots.” Roots, meaning his wolf nature. 

You nodded in understanding. “Okay.” You stole another kiss before you stepped back. “I love you. Go.”

He stepped outside, and you watched through the window as he quickly rid himself of his clothing, sprinting right off the porch and shifting midair, landing on four paws before he took off toward the tree line. You couldn’t help but smile fondly. Oh, how you loved him. 

He was so anxious about what was to come, but you weren���t, because had no doubt that he was made for this. 

While Rhett was on his run, and Amy had the kids occupied, you set to work preparing for that night. You set out an outfit for your husband. A royal blue shirt that brought out his eyes, and a pair of his nicest jeans. You would be given special ceremonial robes to wear during the event itself, so you weren’t too concerned with what would be worn beneath them, but you still wanted the both of you to look your best. 

As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, you could feel an electricity in the air. Of course, this was brought on by the approaching full moon, but it was something more than that. Rhett felt it too, and when he returned from his run, he was wired and filled with new energy. 

By that time, you and Amy had set about getting the kids ready for that night. Arya had gotten ready all by herself, which she proudly announced to Rhett when he walked in the door. 

“You look beautiful, little gal,” he said with a smile, lovingly running his knuckle against her soft cheek. 

“I wanted to dress up like Mama,” she told him, smoothing her hands over her dress, one that closely matched the one you were wearing. 

“You look just like her, too,” he mused. His sweet, beautiful little girl. The girl who made him a father. 

“She does, doesn’t she? Resemblance is uncanny,” Amy spoke up. 

She, too, had dressed up for the occasion, and had threaded her long blonde waves into a thick plait that ran down her back. She was teeming with excitement for the opportunity her uncle had been given. He had been with her through her most transformative years of life, stepping in when her father couldn’t, and she’d developed a deep bond with him. Now that she was grown, she still appreciated all that you and Rhett had done to give her a good life. She believed he deserved this honor and then some. 

And she told him as such. As Arya ran to see if her three younger siblings were ready, Amy caught Rhett at the foot of the steps leading up to your bedroom. 

“I’m proud of you, Uncle Rhett.”

Rhett smiled softly. “Thanks, Amygirl. Means a lot to me.”

She returned his smile and gave him a hug, which he gratefully received. When they parted, she said, “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me.”

“And I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

She nodded, her gaze soft. “I know you would.”

They shared a silent understand before Rhett finally headed upstairs, his heart warm from the interaction. He found you on the bed, getting your youngest into her little outfit. 

“Hey, ZoZo,” he greeted the tiny one, and she giggled in delight at the sight of her father, immediately reaching her little arms up. 

“Dada!” She exclaimed. Her vocabulary had just started to broaden, but she hadn’t yet graduated from calling him dada. And Rhett loved it. When his children called for him, whether it was ‘daddy’ or ‘dada’, it invoked deep emotion within him. Becoming a father was the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

“Mama’s got you lookin’ so pretty!” He hummed as he leaned down to take her into his arms. 

“Pretty!” She echoed in delight, clapping her chubby hands.  

As he snuggled his youngest against his chest, his gaze shifted to you. His mouth curled into a reverent smile, his deep blue eyes taking in your form. “Y’ look beautiful, Mama.”

Even after all these years, you still grew bashful when he complimented you. You rode from the bed, offering a loving peck to his lips. “Thank you, m’love.” And then, “I set out your clothes for you. Thought you’d look handsome in blue.”

He caught you, deepening what had been a light kiss. “Thank you.”

“Mhm,” you articulated. Then, you eased Zoella from his arms. “Better take this little one down to give her a little snack and let you get ready.”

“Okay. Be ready in a few,” he echoed as he handed off your daughter to you. He left a kiss on her head before he let you head back downstairs. 

It was time to finally ready himself for the ceremony. 

He hopped in the shower and scrubbed his skin clean, making sure to wash behind his ears like his mother had drilled into his head when he was a young boy. 

After a quick scrub down, he was hasty to dry off, and throw on his clothes. After his hair was combed down, cologne spritzed on his skin, and socks on his feet, he finally made his way back downstairs, where you and Amy were rounding the littles up to head out the door. 

“Okay! I need a picture of Daddy and the babies!” You exclaimed. “C’mon, gather round!” 

As Amy herded the children around him, you ran to grab your camera, and moments later, you’d snapped several pictures of this monumental moment, with intentions of placing it in a frame and displaying it in your home for years to come. 

“Can we go now?!” Arya asked impatiently. 

“We’re goin’!” Rhett replied. “C’mon tiny wolves, let’s get a move on.” He gathered Zoella in his arms, and then led all of you outside. 

Max and Leia held your hands, while Arya walked up ahead alongside Amy and her father. The place where the ceremony would be held was not a far walk. It was at a clearing in the woods, where the moonlight shined just so. 

Everything had been set up, and as you neared the clearing, you could see how whimsical it looked, and yet, it had an almost pagan feel to it. Fairy lights had been strung from the trees. Deer antlers, masks, and various items that had been passed down from ancestors. 

There was a bonfire going in the middle of the clearing. Adjacent, beneath an ancient weeping willow tree, was a pedestal with a pair of velvet robes placed upon it, and a wooden bowl filled with something you could not see, but would later find out was red paint, made from crushed rose petals and beetroot. 

Members of your pack had already begun to gather. The elders, along with Malakai were taking their places beneath the willow tree. 

As you neared the site, you shared a look with Rhett. 

“You ready?” You asked. 

He let out an unsteady sigh. “As I’ll ever be,” he murmured. 

You squeezed his hand. It was time. 

Amy retrieved Zoella from Rhett’s arms, and she guided the rest of your children over to a little area where other pups were already congregating. Knowing they were in good hands, you were able to move your focus to your husband, who was trying to steady his breathing. He looked like he was seconds away from spiraling. 

“Hey,” you said. You reached up, cupping his cheek, turning his face to you. Your fingers stroked his jaw. You placed your other hand on his chest, over his heart. “Breathe.”

He breathed in deep, his chest rising beneath your touch. Then he exhaled. Upon his second inhale, he focused in on the one and only scent that could ground him - you. That sweet, intoxicating scent that he loved. So familiar and comforting. 

The world seemed to fade out around him. It was just the two of you, sharing an intimate moment. 

“You’re okay.”

He was, wasn’t he? He’d be just fine. 

“I’m okay,” he repeated. 

You kissed him tenderly. It gave him clarity, and he parted from you feeling considerably calmer. He felt ready to take on the responsibility that lay ahead of him. 

He squared his shoulders and glanced around, taking in the sight of his pack members gathering ‘round in support of him. He saw his mother, standing proud, and he nodded at her, silently thanking her for being there for him. She placed her hand over her heart and mouthed I love you. 

And then, it was time. 

Malakai raised his hand. “Gather round, wolves!” He called out. 

Immediately, the group went silent, and everyone began to move toward the tree, but they left a center walkway clear for you and Rhett to walk down. 

A hush fell over the crowd. You grasped Rhett’s hand. 

“Tonight is a very special night. As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, I am surrendering my alpha status. This hasn’t been a decision I’ve taken lightly. I especially wanted to choose someone who was worthy of this position. Someone who will lead you valiantly. Someone who will love you. For me, it simply made sense to choose Rhett Abbott.”

A round of applause rippled through the group. Rhett felt his throat tighten as emotion washed over him. This amount of support was overwhelming for him. 

Malakai met his gaze. “Come forward.”

Hand in hand, the two of you walked toward the weeping willow, your heads held high. When you reached Malakai, he leaned in to kiss your cheeks, and then Rhett’s. 

Of the elders, Gwenevere and Matthias stepped forward, holding the ruby-red robes in their hands. Gwenevere placed yours upon your shoulders, while Matthias placed Rhett’s on his. That was the moment that it really began to set in for you. This was real. This was happening. 

Rhett couldn’t suppress the shiver that trailed down his spine as the velvet robe cascaded down his body. His heart quickened in his chest. His skin felt like it was alive with electricity, crackling and sparkling in a brilliant display.

The feeling was akin to the way he’d felt when he met you for the first time and realized you were his mate. Overwhelming, all-consuming, intense enough to drive him to his knees. But he remained standing tall, despite himself. 

“Rhett Abbott,” Malakai addressed him.

“Yes sir?”

“Do you pledge your undying loyalty to The Northeastern Wyoming Wolf Pack?”

Without hesitation, he answered. “I do.”

“Do you pledge to lead them benevolently?”

“I do.”

“And do you pledge to honor, protect, and defend them?”

“I do.”

Malakai nodded, satisfied with the answers he’d been given. He stepped toward the pedestal that stood nearby, his boots crunching against earth and dry leaves as he moved. Reaching out, he took the wooden bowl that had been placed there before the ceremony. 

“Kneel,” he commanded.

Rhett sank to his knees, humble before his pack. 

Malakai dipped his fingers into the bowl, gathering the homemade paint before he lifted his hand. With his pointer and middle fingers, he left deliberate trails of paint down Rhett’s cheeks. The red pigment symbolized the color of an alpha’s eyes. 

After the paint applied to Rhett’s ruddy cheeks, Malakai handed the bowl off to Nora, another elder. Then, he gazed upon Rhett, moving to lift his chin so he was looking up at him.

“You are the only wolf I trust to lead this pack in my stead. I am confident that you won’t let me down.”

“I won’t, sir,” Rhett assured him, his voice hoarse, emotion evident within its octaves.

Malakai then glanced at each elder. Gwenevere, Matthias, Leo, Nora, Sebastian. “It’s time,” he spoke to them.

They all gave him a nod of approval. 

Above the pack, the sun had finally sunk beneath the horizon, and the full moon was rising in the sky, its silvery light seeming to surround Rhett on purpose. You stared at him in awe, your eyes widening as you saw its pale beams glimmer against his hair, acting as a sort of halo. 

It was breathtaking. 

But the time to marvel was done, because Malakai stepped into the light, his shadow cast over Rhett’s kneeling form. The older wolf’s hands twitched at his sides, and his claws elongated from his fingertips.

Slowly, he raised his right hand. You watched as he placed that same hand against Rhett’s neck. He aligned his claws at the base, pressing them only slightly against his skin, preparing the younger wolf for what was about to happen.

Rhett locked eyes with Malakai. “I’m ready.”

All at once, the alpha sank his claws into the nape of Rhett’s neck. You flinched as he let out an agonized growl, his body going as tense as a taut rope while the pain blossomed within.

“Don’t fight it, young wolf,” Malakai commanded.

Rhett resisted the urge to pull away, but the pain was great and all-consuming, a burn that radiated throughout his neck and upper back. He groaned, huffing in labored breaths, as he realized his body was trying to shift. His jaw twitched as he tried to keep his fangs from lengthening from his gums. But it was no use. 

And then, seconds later, the pain he felt began to melt away. He never tore his gaze from Malakai’s. He watched as the alpha’s eyes glowed red as fiery embers, but then, he realized that red was fading away, slowly draining from his irises, replaced by a brilliant yellow.

You watched in amazement as the same ruby-red began to come to life in your mate’s eyes, dull at first, but growing ever brighter by the second. Your heart pounded in your chest, because you could feel it. That was the thing with mates, they could feel the other’s pain or distress. And you could feel it, but this was different.

This was…thrilling. It felt like you had just been struck by a bolt of lightning and splashed with a shock of cold water all at the same time. You gasped sharply, as did Rhett, and suddenly you felt more alive than you ever had in your life. So did he.

“It is done!” Gwenevere called out.

Seconds later, Malakai released Rhett, withdrawing his claws from the base of his neck. Rhett suddenly fell forward, catching himself as he put his hands out in front of him. The entire pack waited in dead silence, anticipation thrumming in the air like a magic spell.

And then, the alpha rose.

Slowly, Rhett moved, pushing himself up from the earth, and standing to his full height. Then he turned to face his pack, his eyes still gleaming red. A soft gasp went through the small crowd, followed by hushed murmurs.

And then, “Rhett Thomas Abbott, you are now the alpha of the Northeastern Wyoming Wolf Pack.”

Rhett let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and all at once, everything felt right. He felt whole, as if he had just fulfilled his very purpose in life. This was it. This was what he was meant for. 

And then, a display of reverence followed. 

Starting with Malakai, each and every member of the pack lowered themselves to their knees. Overwhelmed, you moved closer to Rhett, reaching for his hand, interlacing your fingers. The two of you stood there as your wolves knelt out of respect for their new alpha. The sight brought tears to your eyes. 

Your gaze shifted to Rhett, and you realized his eyes were glimmering with emotion, too. 

But the time for tears was over. So he threw his head back and let out a clear howl into the air. Everyone else followed, a chorus of wolf howls filling the woods, reverberating around you. It was an indescribable moment that you knew you would not soon forget. 

After that very special moment, a time of music and dancing followed. Old mountain melodies were sung, and you were inundated with pack members coming up to congratulate Rhett on his status, and pledge their loyalty to him as their alpha. 

And most important of all, your children came bounding up to their father, with little Leia launching herself into his arms, and Arya and Max laughing in delight as they secured themselves at his waist. 

Amy held a bouncing Zoella on her hip, who Rhett promptly reached for. Even as the littlest of the family, she seemed to know this was a time of celebration and joy, and she squealed when her daddy took her into his arms. 

And there he stood, an alpha, his wife and children surrounding him, and he felt as if he was on top of the world. He’d never dreamed that this would be his life, yet here he was, and he could hardly contain his wonder. 

“I did it,” he whispered to you, as you nuzzled close to him, joining him and the huddle of babies surrounding him. 

“You did it,” you echoed, unable to hide the joyous smile spread across your face. 

You were so proud, you could hardly contain yourself. 

That night, the celebration went on. You feasted and you danced and you sang and you laughed. You watched Rhett throughout the evening, and the only way you could describe him was radiant. He appeared to be glowing, just as he had when the moon touched its silvery fingers to his head when he stood beneath the weeping willow. Alpha status looked good on him. 

And then, came the best part of the night. For you and Rhett, at least. 

As the hours grew later, the pups needed to be rounded up and put to bed. Graciously, Amy assured you she would take care of them. 

“Keep on havin’ a good time,” she said. “I’ll get these kids settled at the house.”

“You sure?” You asked, fully prepared to do it yourself. 

“Course I’m sure! It’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, you and Uncle Rhett deserve to celebrate some more. Wouldn’t want to take that away from you.”

“Alrighty then. Let me just kiss them all goodnight.”

Together, you and Rhett bid each of your children goodnight and sent them off with Amy. Other pups were being taken home as well, leaving just the adults left over. It was time for a full moon run, and because pups under ten years of age did not yet possess the ability to turn, they did not participate. 

As for the rest of you, you would shift into your wolves and run beneath the light of the moon, the night air rippling through your fur, free as a bird. It was exhilarating. 

And so, when the moon rose to its highest peak, another set of howls rippled through the group, and one by one, the transformation from human to wolf began. 

Rhett turned to you, his eyes bright with anticipation. “Ready?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Let’s go.”

You rid yourselves of your robes, followed by your clothing, and moments later, you were shifting. You into your wolf with its snow-white pelt, and Rhett into his wolf with its midnight black one. 

A rush of pure excitement rippled through you as you nuzzled your face against your mate’s fur. At Rhett’s signal, you took off into the woods, side by side. 

You ran like the wind, following your lover. You had mastered the art of communicating silently and through your senses. Every whine, every yip, every shift of the ears. You knew what the other was saying in an instant. 

And now, you knew that Rhett was leading you far away from the pack. In your heart, you knew why. You could feel it. It buzzed through your bloodstream like a crackling, surging current. A deep desire, an animalistic need. Your alpha was the only one that could fulfill it. 

And then, he stopped. And you did too. 

He turned to you, staring into your face for a moment before his eyes flashed red again. It struck you into a moment of submission, and you whined, lowering yourself to the ground and bowing your head. 

Then, Rhett shifted back into human, and you watched, still bowing at his feet, as he stood tall above you, naked as the day he was born. 

“Shift,” he simply said.

Seconds later, you had returned to your human form, remaining on your knees as he looked down at you. Your breathing was labored from your run, and it swirled in puffs of condensation around your head. Your heart was pounding in your chest. 

Rhett stepped forward, bare feet against cold earth. His expression was unreadable, yet he exuded power. Then, he reached his hand out, lovingly stroking your cold cheek before he brought his thumb up to trace the outline of your lips. You parted them and allowed the digit to press against your tongue. 

Something primal was ignited between you both that night. You could see it in Rhett’s eyes and feel it deep within your core. 

“What an obedient little wolf,” he murmured as you suckled on his thumb, moaning softly around it. “Been thinkin’ about you ever since the ceremony. Wonderin’ what it’d be like to fuck you as your alpha.”

Your moan turned into a whimper, and you pulled away from his finger to speak. “Want it,” you sighed. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?” His large hand closed around your jaw, holding your face in place. “I ain’t gon’ be gentle. Wanna mount you and take you hard.”

His words sent a thrum of arousal through you, to the point where it was almost painful. “Please.” 

Your eyes flickered down. God, his cock was already growing hard. It elicited a needy sound from you, a cross between a growl and a whine, wolfish and unbridled. 

Then he knelt in front of you, both hands holding your face. His eyes searched your own, just before he leaned in, lips crashing against yours. The kiss was deep, as if you were trying to commit the other to memory. Your hands came up to grasp at his shoulders, fingers digging into the skin. 

When you parted, you were breathless. Against your parted lips, Rhett’s tongue laved, delving into your mouth, letting you taste him. He was intoxicating. Not only did his scent overwhelm you, it consumed the air around you. During a rutting session, the scent of each mate would grow that much stronger to the other, creating a dizzying concoction that would send their hormones into overdrive. 

And that was what was happening at that very moment. You were growing high off of each other, as if you were one another’s own personal drug. 

Rhett moved to trail his nose down your jaw, nuzzling against your pulse point before he breathed in deep, inhaling your scent. Then, you felt his fangs, sharp against your soft skin. He growled low in his chest, and when he lifted his head, his eyes were glowing red again. 

“I’m goin’ to devour you, little wolf.”

You pressed your bare chest against his. “Do it.”

With a snarl, he threw his weight against yours, sending you tumbling to the forest floor as he pounced on top of you. However, his hand reflexively came up to the back of your head, so you wouldn’t hit it when you went down. 

You had squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation of the impact, and when you opened them, you found him hovering over you, gaze intense. He was looking at you like you were a little rabbit that he’d just caught in his greedy paws. 

He grabbed your wrists and pinned your hands above your head. “Stay,” he said. Obediently, you kept your arms where they were when he moved his hand. Then he leaned back to rest on his haunches, and you watched him, taking in the sight. 

He bit his lip, his eyes narrowing as he drank in your gorgeous form, spread out just for him. “S’pretty,” he hummed. “All for me.”

His hand flattened against your sternum before traveling downward. Down, down, down, until his palm was pressed over your mound, just above your cunt. But he didn’t dip his fingers inside. No, he instead shoved your legs apart and got down between them. You lifted your head to gaze down at him, only to find him nuzzling his face against your wetness, inhaling you. 

He nipped at your inner thigh, soothing the welt that was sure to follow with his tongue. “Smell good enough to eat.” His nose nudged at your clit, and you whimpered as he left a kiss there. “So good. So sweet.”

He trailed his tongue through your folds to tease you, but he found that you were already soaking wet. You had been from the moment you saw him assume alpha status in front of the pack. 

You didn’t want him to tease you. You wanted him to breed you. 

“Rhett,” you sighed. 

“I know,” he murmured. He left one more kiss to your needy pussy before he finally moved so that his face was hovering over yours again. He kissed you languidly, allowing you to taste yourself. 

When you parted, you reached down, with intentions of wrapping your hand around his cock, which was now fully hard and heavy with arousal. But he caught you. 

“Uh-uh, what’d I say?”

“To stay,” you whispered. 

“Be patient, I’ll give it all to ya,” he assured you, lifting your hand to place it back over your head. He kept his own hand enclosed around your wrists as he brought his left hand down to align himself with you. 

He slid his cock through your slick, pulling a breathless moan. You could feel your cunt pulse with need, so desperate to have him inside you. Your hips lifted of their own volition, trying to get him to slip past your entrance. 

Without warning, he gave a light cautionary slap to your pussy, and you yelped, jolting beneath him. “Fuckin’ impatient, girl,” he snapped. “I have half a mind to turn you over and fuck your ass instead, since your cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy.”

At that, you let out a frustrated mewl. “No! Stop teasin’ me.” Then, you gave him your best doe eyes. “I just want my alpha to fuck me.”

You saw it then. The shift in his eyes. There was a feral rumble that came from deep within his chest, and all at once, he let out a cross between a bark and a howl, his grip releasing from your wrists as he placed his hands at either side of your head. 

Without warning, and in one fluid motion, he thrust his hips forward, and all at once, your body was stretching to accommodate him, and you were crying out into the night air. 

He grabbed your face. “That what you wanted?” 

“Mhm!”

“What was that?” He punctuated his words with a sharp snap of his hips into yours. 

“YES!” You wailed. 

Again, he grabbed your face, mouth against yours, and he snarled. There was no warmup. He started off rough, and continued as such, driving into you with such force your body began to move away from his. 

“Fuckin’ stay.” Large hands grasped your hips, holding you in place. 

The pleasure was blinding, as if you’d been struck by a white-hot bolt of lightning. His command to keep your hands where they were be damned, you couldn’t help but let your arms come down to your sides, where you clawed at the earth, back arching off the ground. 

He didn’t chastise you. He was far too occupied with the feeling of your cunt tightening around him like a vice, inviting him deeper inside, where he was meant to be. 

He was quick to remove his hands from your hips, moving only to rest his forearms against the earth at either side of your head, bracing himself above you. You were surrounded by him. His warmth, his scent. It was all-encompassing. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him even closer, needing more. He kissed you, open-mouthed and breathless, swallowing your moans and sighs as he began rutting into you. 

He was so deep inside you already. You could feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, balls heavy and aching and full against you. You couldn’t wait for him to fill you to the brim with his seed. 

He quickened his pace. Hard, heavy, deep thrusts that punched the very breath from your lungs. At some point your hands flew up to grasp at his shoulders, trailing down his back. As your body began to tremble with pleasure, you found it harder to control the animal within you, and your claws lengthened from your fingers, scratching at his flesh. 

His body jerked, and he grunted, snapping his fangs at you. But it wasn’t out of anger. The sharp sting of pain sent a delicious shiver down his spine. 

“Gon’ be the death of me, little wolf,” he groaned. 

But you couldn’t reply. You were already practically nonverbal, save for the uncontrolled squeaks and whimpers leaving your mouth. How was it possible to feel this good? There were tears welling in your eyes, sliding down the sides of your face as he repeatedly drove that thick cock into you. 

But Rhett wanted more. He wanted a position that fulfilled his primal needs. So he pulled out of you for a moment, shushing your cry of protest. 

“I’m givin’ it to ya’, puppy. Hold on.” He shoved your knees toward your chest, arranging you as if you were merely a doll he was posing. 

Then he straddled you, and you realized what he was doing. He’d put you into a mating press position, keen on finding a different angle to make both of you feel the most pleasure possible. 

You yelped as he slipped inside you again, bottoming out. At this angle he filled you all the more, if that was possible. It rendered you breathless as the tip of his cock kissed at the deepest part of you. 

“Rhett!” 

He didn’t waste time with the buildup. No, you were already drenched, so much so that there was an audible wet sound when he entered you. With your legs pressed up high, all you could do was lay there and take it. 

“So good f’me. Made to take my cock,” he grunted, bringing his hips down hard. He built a steady rhythm, faster and faster until he was all but pounding into you and you were nearly sobbing against the forest floor, consumed by him. 

It was rough and venereal and intense. You swore you were outside of your own body, experiencing this moment through your every sense. He was all you knew. Nothing else mattered. Not the cool earth beneath you. Not the full moon above you. No, he was the only thing that existed. Your mate. The keeper of your heart and soul. 

You didn’t bother to hide your ecstasy as he rutted into you. How could you? The sounds were escaping your throat involuntarily, pulled from its depths with each calculated movement. 

“S-so f—ah!—full!” You wailed. You swore you could feel him deeper than before, and that’s when you realized what was happening. 

Your eyes went wide as you felt the stretch. The expansion of his cock inside your walls. He was growing even bigger, and your body was taking it with ease, because that was what it was made to do.

As mates, your anatomy was naturally created to fit together. It was never a struggle to take every last inch of him, even when his cock grew within you. But oh, how overwhelming it was. 

You threw your head back, crying out, grasping for purchase at anything you could, which ended up being his strong forearms. Above you, his face was set in determination. Brow furrowed, jaw tense, brunette locks falling against his forehead. 

He was so big and strong and virile above you. With each growl and snarl he let out, the more your body trembled. The effect he had on you was unmatched. Dizzying, electrifying. 

The heat of molten desire began to crackle to life at the base of your spine. When he pressed his hips against you and nestled them deep, his pubic bone left just the right amount of pressure against your swollen button of thrumming nerves. 

And with each push and pull, your body became more responsive. Your cunt grew more slick around him, and you could feel the way your desire quite literally spurted around his cock. 

“Makin’ such a mess,” he breathlessly spoke. “Sweet lil pussy’s just squirtin’ all over me, honey, and I ain’t even made you come yet.” 

“C-can’t help it!” You cried out. 

He leaned in closer, hot and open mouth resting against yours, tongue smoothing against your kiss-swollen lower lip. “No, you can’t, can ya? The thought of your alpha fuckin’ you gets you so drippy, don’t it?”

Something white-hot flashed within you. An explosion of pleasure that turned you speechless. Your eyes filled with tears and your mouth fell open as you nodded dumbly up at him. 

He grinned, wolffish and wicked. “S’what I thought. Can’t even speak, it feels too good.” Another rough thrust of his hips sent you sobbing into the night air. 

He didn’t stop. He kept a hard, fast, steady rhythm, grunting and growling and snarling as he did. He mouthed at your throat, his fangs sharp, but never sinking into the skin, because even in moments like this, he still had incredible restraint with you. He’d be damned if he ever let himself lose control and hurt you. 

Just as he was going into a partial shift, with his eyes glowing and his fangs and claws elongated, so were you. You couldn’t contain it if you tried. You were wolves, mating in the most primal way, just as nature intended. 

Then he wrapped his hand around your throat. Squeezing just enough to make you lightheaded as he repeatedly drove his cock inside you. 

That’s when it hit you. 

You didn’t even realize how close you were. You were so preoccupied with the intensity of it all that it sneaked up on you. But when it did, it swallowed you whole. 

It felt as if you were free falling, suspended in air made of raw energy. Or maybe magic was the best word to describe it. It sparkled and crackled and washed over you from head to toe. 

You didn’t realize you were sobbing. You couldn’t hear yourself over the rush of blood in your ears. But hot tears had begun to flow down your face again, all while your body trembled fiercely beneath him. 

He hissed in surprise as your cunt began to clench around him, pulsing wildly as your orgasm tore through you. His forearms shook as he fought to hold himself upright, his breath growing labored. 

The sensation was so strong that you blacked out for a moment, and when you came to, you were staring into a hungry, ruby-red gaze. 

He’d stopped moving at some point, hips flush against yours, cock still nestled deep inside. He was exercising great restraint, allowing you a moment to come back to yourself. But you were still fluttering around him and he was moments away from losing his sanity, it felt like. 

In your hazy state, he suddenly seemed so much bigger above you. Imposing, in a way. But you weren’t frightened. Far from it. You’d never felt more protected. 

“I-I—” you tried to speak, but the words died in your throat, replaced by an involuntary sob. 

He softened. That furrowed brow relaxed. His eyes shifted back to a very human blue. “Shh,” he soothed. “I’ve got ya, little wolf.”

“N-no, I…” Why couldn’t you form sentences? Your brain felt like it had gone blank, filled with television static. 

His face contorted in concern. “Are y’ alright?” He nuzzled his nose against yours. 

“Yes,” you managed to say. 

“Then what, hm?” He was patient. He wouldn’t rush you into speaking if you weren’t ready. 

But you only had three words to say. “I lo…love you.”

“Oh, baby.” He kissed you again, so tender in contrast to how he’d been fucking you moments before. “I love you too. So much.”

Something shifted then. What had once been carnal and hedonic now melted into a moment of tenderness. Ever so carefully, he leaned back, and when you realized he was switching positions, you whimpered in pitiful protest. 

He soothed you by slipping his pointer and middle finger into your mouth, providing something to occupy your mouth so you wouldn’t spiral. “Hey, I’ve got’ya.”

Gently, he parted your thighs again, slotting himself between them. His arms encircled your upper body, and in one fluid movement, he lifted you, pressing you to his chest as he moved to rest on his haunches. You were straddling his lap then, chest pressed flush against his. His mouth hovering over your own, swallowing the yip you let out as he eased himself back inside you.

“R-Rhett…”

“I’m here.” One steady thrust upward. Then another. And another. 

A dreamy haze settled over you as your bodies began to move of one accord. You keened high in your throat, your arms coming up to wrap around Rhett’s broad shoulders, clutching him tightly, needing him close, needing every inch of his body against yours.

He held you lovingly as he eased in and out of your dripping core, bringing you quickly toward yet another release. All you could do was let him take you, his strong arms moving you up and down to meet each push of his hips. 

Your head lolled back, your body undulating against his. You were floating, drifting through time and space, on an entirely different plane of existence. There it was again, building, building, building. It wasn’t fiery or explosive. No, it felt like bubbles. Like your bloodstream had suddenly turned to fizzy champagne. 

It surged through you, flowing like the building tide, and this time, you knew it was coming. “I-I’m…!” You gasped into his open mouth, but you couldn’t speak.

“I know,” his voice was strained. “Me too. Let go.”

With a soft cry, you came apart again, head thrown back as your body was overcome. You didn’t remember crying out his name, but it echoed through the trees nonetheless. He kept moving even as you fell to pieces in his arms. He would put you back together again soon enough.

You went boneless in his grasp. With your face buried against his neck, you whimpered and sobbed quietly as he quickened his pace, chasing his own end. He murmured words of reassurance to you, but you couldn’t hear them over the white noise in your ears. 

His grip tightened on you, and his cock swelled within you again, all while he growled, squeezing his eyes shut as he neared that peak. 

“Gonna—ah!—gonna breed you again. Fill you up with another one of m’ pups.”

Please, you tried to utter, but you couldn’t form the word. You wanted it. Oh, how badly you wanted it. But he already knew. 

And then, it finally began to wash over him. Divine ecstasy that sizzled at the base of his spine. You felt it. The heat. The pulsing, the thrumming, filling you with spurt after spurt of his seed. And you took it all like his good little wolf. 

As he came down, you remained still in his arms, your chest heaving against his, your body exhausted but oh so satiated. You felt his hand at the back of your head, lovingly cradling you against his chest. The sound of his heart beginning to slow back down to its normal best calmed you. 

“Y’ still with me?” Came his gravelly question. 

“Mhm,” you sighed. 

He tipped your face up so you were looking at him, and he kissed you tenderly. “Did so good for me. Always take me so well.” Another kiss. 

“Love you,” you murmured. 

He nuzzled his nose against yours. “Love you too, little wolf.”

“C’n we stay here for a few more minutes?”

He smiled. “Yes we can.”

And you did. He remained there on the forest floor with you cuddled in his arms, just enjoying the closeness and the quiet intimacy. The afterglow was a time of bonding for the two of you, and you didn’t sacrifice one minute of that time. 

He lovingly caressed your skin, soothing you, anchoring you. It brought you back to yourself and replenished the energy you had expended during your tryst. 

Eventually, the spell was broken. “Think we should head back?” He asked. 

You sighed. “I suppose so.”

He kissed you again. “C’mon, I’ll carry ya.” The perks of having supernatural strength. 

You let him lift you into his arms, with your head tucked into the side of his neck. He carried you all the way home, and you felt so safe and at ease that you fell asleep in his arms along the way. 

When you woke, you were safe and warm in your bed, with your mate curled protectively around you, and you smiled to yourself. The events of the night before felt like a dream, but they were very much real. Your husband was an alpha now. And you had spent the night mating with him beneath the light of the full moon. How was your life even real?

Beside you, he stirred, a low, sleepy hum sounding from his chest. A faint smile tugged at his mouth as he pulled you to him. “G’mornin’.”

You hummed, snuggling in close. “Morning.”

He buried his face against your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. But he noticed something as he breathed in.

A large hand came down to rest over your belly. 

“It took,” he whispered. 

Your eyes widened. “What?”

His gaze locked with yours. “I told you I’d give you another pup, didn’t I? I can tell it took. Smell the same way you did after I put each of our babies inside ya.”

Your face broke into a grin, and you couldn’t help but laugh, placing your own hand over his. “Guess you really were serious about breeding me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Serious as a heart attack, honey. It’s my job to keep you full of pups, after all.”

“And you’ve done your job exceptionally well,” you teased as you kissed him. 

“Don’t I know it,” he replied goodnaturedly, bumping his nose against yours. 

You cherished that fleeting moment of bliss, basking in the joy that came from learning you would soon be inviting a new addition to your family. 

This same blissful, dreamlike feeling carried on into the days following Rhett’s achievement of alpha status. They were wonderful days. They were happy days. He assumed his role dutifully and made sure that his pack members knew that he was going to take care of them. 

They had no doubt he would, because Rhett Abbott always made good on his word. 

Four Months Later

Life had been good for you. Rhett was beginning to really settle into his position as leader of the Northeast Wyoming Pack, establishing his authority and benevolence. The wolves revered him. 

Your family was thriving. You had been slightly worried that Rhett taking on this responsibility would send things into upheaval for your children and their routine, but they had adapted beautifully. 

You had no doubt in your mind that this was always what Rhett had been meant to do. It was rooted in who he was as a wolf, an intrinsic ability to lead. 

And for those first four months, everything progressed as it should. 

But it wasn’t long before the sanctity of your pack, and everything Rhett had worked so hard for, was threatened. 

A story that had made national news. A group of rogue wolves had targeted The Montana Wolf Pack, killing several innocent members. According to local authorities, this group of wolves had tried to take control of the pack, and when their target had put up a fight, they killed several of its members in cold blood. 

The news of these killings hit close to home. This wasn’t an attack staged by hunters. This atrocity had been committed by wolves, members of your own kind. The ultimate betrayal. The National Werewolf League called for a day of mourning out of respect for the families affected by the unspeakable tragedy. 

Many wondered if this incident was an isolated one, or if other wolves would soon be targeted. Were more lives in danger? Would there be other uprisings across the states? Rogue groups bent on killing their own kind?

That remained to be seen. But it certainly put fear into the hearts of wolfpacks across the US. Yours especially, because Montana was just north of you. However, in the weeks following the attack on the Montana Pack, things remained quiet and uneventful. Life went on as normal.

Until one day, a visitor showed up on your property. 

It was a cold February day, and it had just snowed considerably the night before. School was canceled, so your children were outside playing in the snow with their cousins, having the time of their lives. Inside your cozy home, you were baking cookies while Amy had busied herself with making hot chocolate for the children to drink when they came inside. 

Zoella and Leia, who were still too little to play outside with their older siblings and cousins, were playing contentedly on the floor with little cloth dolls that Cecilia had made for them. The scent of baked goods, the crackling of the fire in the fireplace, and the sound of your little ones giggling on the floor, sent a comforting warmth through your chest. 

Rhett was upstairs, showering after he had spent the better half of the morning shoveling snow. It all felt so domestic. So human. Your happy, growing family, enjoying a snow day. But that joyous warmth would soon give way to sickly cold dread.

As you were lifting a tray of cookies out of the oven to cool, Amy noticed something. Her attention shifted to the window that overlooked your property, where the children were playing. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of a man approaching the children.

“Hey, come here,” she spoke up, waving you over. 

You left the tray of cookies on the counter and quickly stepped over toward where she was pointing. Sure enough, a tall man dressed in tattered clothes, had halted the children’s play to speak with them. Alarm bells went off in your head, and you immediately rushed to the door, prepared to run outside.

At that very moment, Rhett was coming down the stairs, and the first thing he picked up on was your scent. Not the sweet, nutty scent of cookies in the air. Not even your naturally occurring scent. He smelled the sharp sting of anxiety.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, already making his way toward you.

“There’s a man talking to the kids,” you explained.

His eyes widened, and in seconds, he was stooping to grab his boots and shove his feet into them before he threw open the front door. He jumped off the front porch, his gaze zeroed in on this stranger as Rhett quickly approached the children.

“Hey!” He called out, and the other man’s head snapped up. He was a wolf too, Rhett could tell by his scent. “Can I help you?” His tone wasn’t friendly. There was a warning edge to it. 

“Daddy, he was asking if we had any food to eat!” Arya informed him, her innocence palpable. She still had that childish gullibility.

But Rhett wasn’t gullible. His hackles were immediately raised because he could tell that something just wasn’t quite right. “Young’ns, go play,” he commanded in a tone that left no room for arguing. The children scattered, and then he turned to the man. “Any particular reason you’re botherin’ my kids?”

The stranger’s hands lifted in surrender. “Hey now, I wasn’t trying to cause any trouble. My name’s Kane Masters I’m just passin’ through. My truck broke down out on the main road. I can’t get it started, and I’ve got a mate and a baby to take care of. Could you help us, please?”

Rhett stared at him, his eyes narrowed. There was an unsettled feeling in his gut. This fucker was lying. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to pull, but it ain’t gonna work with me.”

Kane’s jaw tensed, and his eyes darkened. “Did you not hear what I said? I have a wife and baby! You can’t at least offer them shelter while I figure out how to get the truck fixed? They’re gonna freeze!”

Rhett’s eyes flashed red, asserting his dominance. “And I have a pack to protect. I ain’t lettin’ perfect strangers into my home. You’ll have to find someone else to help you.”

Kane growled, low in his throat. “You’ll regret this, wolf,” he snarled.

Rhett stepped forward, standing eye level with Kane. His sudden outburst of hostility raised a warning flag for Rhett. “Are you threatenin’ me?” 

“Maybe I am. Are you condemning my wife and child to freeze to death?”

The alpha rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “Get the fuck off my property before I drag you off it.”

Kane stared Rhett down, his chest heaving. But Rhett didn’t budge. He had a gut feeling that something was amiss, and he felt that he was putting his pack at risk if he allowed this wolf refuge in his home.

After one last threatening gnarl, Kane finally turned and stalked off, snow crunching beneath his feet. Rhett stood there and watched him go, remaining there until he was out of sight. 

Once he was sure that the other wolf had gone, he finally turned back toward the house, where he found you standing in the doorway, looking on in concern. 

“What did he want?” You asked as Rhett climbed the porch steps. 

“He said his truck stalled on the main road, and he was lookin’ for a place his mate and baby could stay while he got it fixed.” There was a hard look in his eyes. One you couldn’t read. 

“What is it, Rhett? Why did you turn him away?” You questioned.

His gaze shifted to yours. “Somethin’ just wasn’t right. Can’t put my finger on it. But if you see him comin’ around here again, you come get me. Okay?”

You nodded, not keen to argue with him. If he sensed danger, then you would trust his instinct. “Okay.”

He leaned in then, large hand resting over your belly, where your unborn pup rested safe and warm, protected from the dangers of the outside world.

Rhett’s lips lingered against your temple before he pulled back. “I’m gon’ round the pups up and bring ‘em inside. Guy kinda gave me the spooks.” It wasn’t that Rhett was scared of him. He was simply wary. 

He brought the kids inside, where they all gathered in the kitchen for hot chocolate and cookies, completely oblivious. 

Rhett kept an eye out the rest of the day, and warned a few pack members to be on the lookout for Kane, should he return. He knew better than to ignore his gut feeling. 

But after that specific incident, things were quiet. For the next week, at least. In that time, the weather had improved, and the roads were clear, which gave you the opportunity to take your family into town. The kids were excited to stop by Ruby’s Diner, a favorite local spot in Wabang. 

All was well. You enjoyed a wholesome day with your mate and your children, seemingly without a care in the world. Until, suddenly, a dark cloud began to loom over you. 

No, it wasn’t a cloud. It was a shadow. A wolf. 

Rhett had slipped away for a few minutes, with intentions of taking Arya, Max, and Leia into the local toy shop to get them a little something. 

Zoella had fallen asleep in her stroller, and after Rhett assured you he would choose a little trinket for her, too, while he was with the older children in the shop, you had opted to walk to the truck and get her situated for the ride home. 

Just as you’d gotten her buckled in, you felt a presence behind you. “Excuse me, miss?” A voice filled the air.

You tensed, slowly turning around to face the stranger. Sandy blonde hair and unsettling, stormy eyes. They appeared to be both blue and gray at the same time. Something about his stare made you shiver. “Yes?” You cautiously answered, making sure that Zoella was hidden safely behind you as you squared your shoulders.

“I’m looking for a place to stay. I couldn’t help but pick up on the fact that you’re a werewolf like I am. I’ve been a lone wolf for some time now and I need to find a pack. Would you be willing to welcome me into yours?” 

You stared at him in confusion. Demanding to join an established pack was simply not done. The only way another wolf would join a pack that was not his own was if the alpha invited him into the fold. 

Something wasn’t right. 

“I-I’m sorry, we aren’t looking to bring in any new pack members,” you told the stranger. 

His gaze darkened, and anxiety crept into your bones. 

Rhett sensed it, too. You were his mate, after all. Mates had the unique ability to sense when the other was in danger, with an intense emotional connection that ran deeper than any human connection ever could. 

In the middle of that toy store, he froze. A nauseating shock of dread washed over him. Something was dead wrong. Without hesitation, he swooped in and grabbed Max and Leia, lifting them into his arms. They giggled, because they thought it was a game. But it was not. 

Then, “Arya, we need to go.”

The seven-year-old turned, her brow furrowed in confusion. “But Daddy—”

“Now, baby.” His tone left no room for argument, and she closed her mouth, a sad look washing over her face. But she followed her father nonetheless, because she could sense his urgency, and thought it best to obey him in that moment. 

Quickly, he made a beeline out of that store, into the balmy February afternoon. Just ahead, he could see you standing beside the truck, nervously speaking to someone. Alarm bells went off in his head as he moved quickly, still holding his children, with Arya clutching at the fabric of his shirt to keep up with him. 

“Excuse me!” Rhett called out, trying to keep his tone steady, so as not to frighten his little ones. The stranger’s head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed at Rhett’s presence. 

At your husband’s arrival, you began to visibly relax, though you still remained on edge. When Rhett got to you, he was quick to hand Leia to your waiting arms, while he set Max down at your side. 

“Do you need somethin’?” He asked as he stepped in front of you, effectively shielding you and his children from the other wolf. 

“It’s all the same with you wolfpacks, isn’t it? Selfish fuckin’ pricks, turning away people in need.”

Rhett spoke over his shoulder at you. “Get in the truck,” came his command, and you immediately moved to coax the kids into the vehicle, soothing Arya when she expressed concern over what was about to happen. She was very observant, and she could sense that her father was preparing for a potential altercation. 

As he turned back toward the stranger, Rhett’s eyes narrowed. “You’re with Kane, aren’t you?”

“And what if I am?”

That’s when Rhett growled low in his throat, eyes flashing crimson. “I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to pull, but you need to stay the fuck away from my family, and from my pack. I catch you botherin’ my wife and pups again? I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Rhett Abbott did not make empty threats. And he did not resort to killing without cause. But if someone threatened the sanctity of his family, he would not hesitate to put them down. It was his duty to protect you and his pack. He did not take that duty lightly. 

His threat seemed to be enough to scare this stranger off, and he stalked away. Rhett stood there, watching until he disappeared. He was on edge. An odd feeling in his gut told him that this wouldn’t be the last time he saw Kane, and those associated with him. 

The ambush against The Montana Pack had happened only a few short weeks prior. Authorities still hadn’t caught those responsible for it. Rhett had a sinking feeling that his own pack was going to be the target of the next attack.

As soon as he was sure the danger had passed for the time being, he spun around on his heel and rushed to climb into the diver’s side, where he promptly turned the ignition over. You eyed him, reading his features. His jaw was hard-set, and his eyes had narrowed in that cat-like way they always did. 

“Rhett?” You spoke his name cautiously.

“Daddy, who was that man?” Max asked from the backseat. 

Rhett caught your eye for a moment before he focused on the road before him again. He was quiet for a moment, considering his response. “He’s someone who wants to hurt our pack,” he replied. “But I’m not gonna let him. Daddy’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

At his words, your heart sank. Rhett reached over the center console and placed his hand over your belly. You shook your head, because you knew what he was insinuating. “It’s them, isn’t it?” You whispered.

“We’ll talk about it at home,” he simply said. He didn’t want to upset the children.

The ride home was quiet. Rhett’s mind was going a mile a minute, the cogs turning as he came up with a plan of action. If an attack was going to be staged, the pack needed to be prepared. He would call a meeting to warn everyone.

And that was just what he did.

As soon as your children were deposited safely at home, with Amy keeping a watchful eye on them, Rhett arranged the meeting in the small conference building that had been built on the property a few months prior. It was nothing special, but it served its purpose as a designated meeting spot.

One member representing each family showed up for the meeting, all curious as to what their alpha had summoned them there for. The elders were also present, as they were required to be for such meetings. 

You stood by Rhett’s side, your hand intertwined with his, trying to mask the fear you felt. But it was written all over your face.

“I brought all of you here because there’s somethin’ you need to know. ‘Course, we all remember the massacre that happened to The Montana Pack last month.”

A few murmurs passed through the crowd. Hums of sadness in remembrance of what had happened. 

“They still haven’t found the wolves responsible for it, which means they’re still out there. I wish I could tell you that we’re all safe, but the truth is, we aren’t. I believe they’re gonna target us next.”

“How do you know this, Rhett?” Gwenevere spoke up.

He took a breath. You squeezed his hand. “Because I met them.”

This time, the murmur that went through the group was one of confusion and fear. The next to speak up was Malakai. “You spoke to them? And they told you they were coming after us?”

Rhett shook his head. “Last week, one of ‘em showed up in my yard, botherin’ my kids. Said his name was Kane. Some of you already know because I warned you that he was around your young’ns, too, because they were at my house that day. As soon as I talked to him I knew somethin’ was off. He gave me some bullshit story about his truck breakin’ down, and he wanted me to let his wife and pup stay at our house while he fixed it. I got the sense that he was lyin’ right through his teeth. I told him no. That pissed him off.”

He paused for a moment before he continued. 

“Then, today, we were in town, and a different guy showed up, claimin’ he was a lone wolf, lookin’ for a pack to be part of. And we all know no self-respectin’ wolf is just gonna come in demanding to be accepted into a pack. That ain’t how it works. Come to find out, he’s with Kane. I believe that they’ve been staking us out and they’re planning to come after us. I don’t know how many of them there are, but we need to be ready.”

“If they attack…this could mean war,” Matthias remarked. 

“I know,” Rhett grimly replied. “I don’t want to call it that, but for them to attack two packs in just a few short weeks…it means they won’t stop there. They’re just gon’ keep killing.”

“Alright, what’s the strategy we’re going to follow if they do attack us?” Malakai inquired. 

Rhett’s face was serious, his mouth etched into a frown. “First, we get all the pups to safety. If you can get ‘em here to this building without putting them at risk, do that. If you can’t, hide them in your basements, or whatever spot in your house is safest. Those of us strong enough to fight will be ready to intercept these wolves. I want a handful of you stationed in the woods, keeping an eye out. I’m not lettin’ them destroy our way of life. We won’t go down without a fight.”

Everyone was in agreement that they were not going to let these wolves take what was rightfully theirs. They would band together and defend their home and their loved ones. 

After that meeting was adjourned, everyone was on high alert, prepared for the worst. Ready to fight for their lives if need be. 

You were frightened. Not for yourself, but for your children. This was a real threat, and the mama wolf in you was prepared to do anything to protect your pups. But the thing was, Rhett didn’t want you involved in the battle. 

“If they come, I want you to stay with the pups,” he said, as you walked home that afternoon after the meeting. “Don’t want you out there fightin’.”

“But I have just as much a right to be out there defending our pack as anyone else,” you replied. “I don’t want to stand on the sidelines.”

Rhett stopped, turning to face you. “Listen to me. I know you’re capable of holdin’ your own in a fight. I don’t doubt it. But I can’t lose you.” His hand came to rest protectively over your abdomen. “I can’t lose either of you. I almost lost you and Arya seven years ago. I’m not goin’ through again, you hear me?”

You went quiet, nodding at his words. Those memories were vivid. The day the Tillersons had abducted you. You’d pleaded with them to let you go. You’d tried to reason with them by informing them you were pregnant, hoping Patricia would ease up on her cruelty. But she’d accused you of lying, claiming you were just trying to make her feel sorry for you. 

Reminders of that moment in time we’re difficult to process. But now, it helped you better understand why Rhett didn’t want you involved in the conflict. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll stay with the pups. But Rhett…you watch yourself out there, alright? As much as you can’t lose me, I can’t lose you, either.”

He reached a big gentle hand up to cup your cheek. “You won’t lose me.”

Don’t make promises you can’t keep. 

His lips found yours in a gentle but impassioned kiss, and then he led you back to the house, where Amy was occupied with entertaining the children. You were so thankful for her and her willingness to help with the littles. She was your saving grace in time of crisis. 

You were much too exhausted to prepare a balanced dinner that night, and you didn’t want to put any more responsibility on Amy, so chicken nuggets and stovetop mac and cheese were the meal. 

Wanting to keep some semblance of normal, so as not to alarm the children, you ate together as a family. Rhett held your hand beneath the table, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on your wrist. It did little to quell the anxiety bubbling within you. 

That night, you put the kids to bed early. Rhett kissed them all goodnight, and once they were tucked in, he left you with a lingering kiss and informed you he was going out to check on the wolves stationed on watch that night. 

You curled up on the couch beneath a blanket because you didn’t want to sleep in your big, empty bed without your mate, and because you wanted to be ready if things should go haywire. 

But that night was quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary took place, and early in the morning, just before sunrise, Rhett returned home. 

His presence jolted you awake, and as you sat up, you noticed that there was snow in his hair, and on his coat. When you sleepily glanced out the window, you realized it was snowing heavily again. It looked like another storm was rolling in. 

“What happened?” You quietly asked as he shrugged out of his coat. 

He shook his head. “Nothin’. It was quiet out there all night. No sign of anyone.”

“Do you think maybe they’ll just leave us alone?” You continued, as you sauntered toward him, where he was unlacing his boots. 

He sighed, and when he looked at you, his brow was furrowed in a frown. “I don’t think so. I just have a gut feelin’ that they’re gonna come for us.”

It was your turn to sigh, and you stepped forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Well, let’s get you warmed up in the meantime. And put some food in ya. You aren’t going to be any good in a fight if you’re starving and half-frozen.”

You then took his hand and led him to the kitchen, where you had him sit at the table while you set about preparing a pot of coffee, and making him some oatmeal, something that would stick to his ribs and warm him up. 

Ten minutes later he was tucking into his breakfast and sipping on a cup of black coffee, while you sat beside him at the table. You moved so that your legs were resting in his lap. He placed his free hand lovingly over your knee. 

“Want you to know I’ll do everythin’ I can to protect you and the pups. I pledged myself to this pack, but you come first. Always.”

“I know,” you whispered as you leaned in to kiss his cheek, which was flushed from the cold. He turned his head to catch your lips with his own. 

“I love you, little wolf.”

“I love you too.”

Little did either of you know that that morning would be your last morning of peace for a long time.

As your children woke up one by one, they happily clambered into the kitchen to greet the two of you. Leia climbed into Rhett’s lap, her favorite blanket clutched in her little hand as she snuggled into his chest. Arya took her opportunity to occupy his knee, crowding his lap and giggling as he teased her that she was going to squish her little sister. 

You went to wake little Zoella from her slumber, and soon, the kitchen was filled with the chatters of children and the smell of breakfast cooking and extra coffee brewing. And for a short time, everything felt normal.

Until a frantic knocking on the front door sucked the joyful spirit out of the air. Immediately, Rhett’s eyes locked with yours, and you were struck with fear. Quickly, he stood from his seat, carefully depositing Leia into the chair before he made his way to the door.

He hurriedly shoved his feet into his boots before he wrenched the door open, revealing a frantic Gideon standing on the doorstep. He was another member of your pack, one of the younger ones. 

“They caught someone trespassing in the woods!”

Rhett tensed, and glanced over Gideon’s shoulder, where he could see Malakai, and a few others, dragging none other than Kane Masters through the snow. In an instant, Rhett turned to you. “Take the pups up to our room and hide them in the bathroom,” he simply said. Then he kissed you, and left you standing there in the entryway as he dashed outside to meet the group. 

You stood there, frozen, watching him go. And then, as if something had struck you into action, you whirled around to hurry back to the kitchen. “What’s going on?” Amy asked, where she stood in the middle of the kitchen, a stack of breakfast plates in hand, ready to be washed. 

“We need to get the kids upstairs. Now. We’re in danger.”

Her large blue eyes widened all the more, and she set the plates down on the counter without a moment of hesitation, already moving to grab Zoella from her highchair. “Come on, we’re going up to Mama and Daddy’s room!” You announced, trying your best to keep your voice calm.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” Arya asked. 

“We just need to get upstairs, I’ll explain up there.” You guided her, Max, and Leia toward the steps, urging them to go quickie. Leia began to cry. So did Zoella. They knew something was wrong. Especially when you herded them into the bathroom. 

“Mama! Mama! Why are we hiding?!” Max cried, his little face full of fear.

“Listen to me, babies,” you spoke in your best calm voice. “Daddy wants us to stay in here for a little bit, alright? We can pretend it’s a game of hide and seek. But this time, we’re hiding from some other wolves who want to hurt us. But I won’t let that happen, alright? You’re safe in here, with me and Amy.”

As you got the children settled, you finally looked at your aforementioned niece. “Stay in here with them, and lock the door. I’m going to go get some blankets and things to keep them occupied.”

“Okay,” she replied, her face etched with fright. She was nearly nineteen years old, but in that moment, she looked as if she was nine again, nothing more than a scared little girl.

You reached out, wrapping her up in a hug. “We’re gonna be okay, Ames.”

Then, you slipped out of the room to gather the supplies you would need. Blankets, coloring books, snacks, your laptop so that you could put on a movie for them to act as a distraction. 

But out of the corner of your eye, you could see movement out the front window of the house. Your attention shifted to what was taking place outside, as the snow drifted about and the wind began to howl. 

You could see Rhett standing not far from the front of the house, speaking to the same man who’d shown up on your property days before. It gave you pause, and you inched closer to the window, tuning in to your supernatural hearing abilities to figure out what they were saying. 

Out in the cold, Rhett was unwavering. He’d instructed the wolves holding Kane to release him, so that they could talk face to face. Everyone around them remained on edge. But Rhett didn’t not go on the defensive quite yet. 

“What are you tryin’ to do here, Kane? Tryin’ to take my pack from me? Because that ain’t gonna happen.”

Kane scoffed. “You really think you’re so untouchable? Alphas are always so fuckin’ sure of themselves. We’re here to prove that they’re no better than the rest of us. That they’re not as indestructible as they think they are.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Rhett asked, his glance shifting to the tree line. He could sense something in the air, even as snow and wind swirled around him. 

“You know that pack in Montana?”

He knew where this was going. “I do. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Kane had the audacity to smile. “I wish I could take all the credit. I had help. Lots of help. And they’re gonna help me take down your pack one by one.”

“Like hell y’ are!” Rhett snarled, eyes flashing red. 

“You don’t scare me, alpha!” Kane’s own eyes flashed, but in a surprising revelation, they were not yellow, or even red. They were ice blue. 

Blue eyes in a wolf meant they had taken an innocent life. 

At the sight of them, the group surrounding Kane was immediately on high alert. “You think you’re starting a fuckin’ revolution? You’re dead wrong. You can’t build it on the innocent lives you took!” Rhett exclaimed, his chest heaving. 

“Oh yeah? Watch me. My revolution’s already started. So what if there are a few casualties along the way? As long as we eradicate the alpha order, that’s all that matters.”

“How the fuck do you plan to do that?”

“Like this.”

Kane lifted his head and howled. Seconds later, a line of wolves appeared along the tree line. This diversion distracted the pack members surrounding Rhett and Kane.

“Go,” Rhett commanded his wolves, and they took off toward the tree line. But the second they ran toward the danger, Kane was lunging. 

It happened so fast. Quick as lightning. A dagger was unsheathed from its hiding place beneath his coat. Rhett saw it, enhanced reflexes kicking in as he dodged the blade. But it sliced into his flannel and grazed his ribs. Nothing serious. It would heal within a moment. 

Meanwhile, as you stood watching from the window, you gasped, and out of instinct you lurched forward, yanking open the door and launching yourself down the porch steps. As soon as your slippered feet hit the snowy ground, you broke into a run, legs moving of their own volition. Somehow, you knew what was coming. It was a gut feeling, so strong it nearly brought you to your knees. 

Time slowed. You couldn’t reach him fast enough. 

Rhett was fine. Until, suddenly, an odd feeling began to wash over him. A sensation that sent a wave of sizzling warmth through his body. He tried to sidestep Kane’s next swing, but he grew unsteady on his feet, his senses suddenly dulled. 

lt was too late. Kane drove that dagger forward and plunged it straight into Rhett’s abdomen. 

Werewolves had the ability to heal from wounds. Depending on the severity of the injury, healing time could range from five minutes, to a few hours. It was common for werewolves to bounce back quickly from knife or even bullet wounds. 

By all accounts, Rhett should have been fine. The dagger plunged into him should have had little effect on him. 

But something was wrong. 

In the diversion caused by Kane’s wolves surrounding the compound, he had been able to move swiftly. No one expected him to brandish a dagger, because wolves didn’t fight with weapons. Combat was fought in wolf form. Using weapons was simply playing dirty. 

Malakai was the only one who remained close enough to hear Rhett’s pained growl. Immediately, he turned, acting on instinct as he broke into a run toward his alpha, ready to fulfill his duty to protect him, but it was too late. 

In the split second that Kane was close to him, Rhett locked eyes with him, gasping sharply as his assailant drove the dagger even further into his body. “Let this be known as the fall of The Pack of Abbott.”

Rhett weakly reached up, trying to wrench Kane’s hand off of the dagger so that he could remove the weapon from his body, but he was shocked to find that his physical strength was beginning to fade. He looked down at his hand and saw that it was trembling. He couldn’t grasp anything.

As Rhett came to this terrible realization, Malakai snarled, and within seconds, he was lunging. Shifting into his wolf form, he leapt into the air, one-hundred-forty-five pounds of muscle and sinew and fur, and tackled Kane to the ground. It was as if Kane had been expecting this. He made no move to shift into his own wolf. No move to defend himself. It was like he wanted Malakai to kill him. Like he wanted to die for his cause, as his wolves wreaked havoc around him.

And then, a scream sliced through the air. 

It came from you. Guttural and raw. A cry of your mate’s name. “Rhett!”

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. 

Gasping sharply, Rhett managed to wrap his weakened fingers around the handle of the dagger and ease the blade out of his abdomen, dropping the weapon to the frozen earth. It left a crimson stain in the pure white snow. Slowly, he turned to you. He was already beginning to sink to the ground. 

“I-I told you to st-stay with the pups,” he gritted out, but you couldn’t hear him over the howl of the wind and the snarling of wolves all around you. 

You reached him, holding your arms out to catch him before he fell. His hand was placed over his abdomen, where blood was beginning to seep through his fingers.

“Rhett! Hey, we need to get you inside!”

“I can’t…I can’t.”

“What are you talking about?! Yes you can, come on!” 

But he was dead weight, and his knees hit the ground. “No!” You cried. Struggling, you managed to pull him upright. Your strength was enhanced because of your wolf abilities, but even so, he was heavy, and dragging him up to the house proved difficult. 

And then, Malakai was by your side, back in his human form. He was drenched in blood. You were too preoccupied to glance just beyond him, where Kane lay dead in a pool of blood. In fact, you barely noticed the wolves fighting around you, barking and snarling, clawing and tearing.

All that mattered was Rhett.

“I’ve got him, let’s get him the house.” Malakai carried Rhett up to the house, with you trailing after him, hot on his heels. As soon as you were enclosed in the safety of your home, you pushed the door shut, locking it behind you. 

“Where do you want me to take him?!” Malakai called over his shoulder.

“Up to our bedroom!” You replied. 

You raced up the steps after him, and watched as he carefully laid Rhett on the bed. In just those few minutes it took to get him inside, he had gone white as a ghost. Your heart sank in your chest. 

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. 

“I’m going to get Doctor Tenpenny,” Malakai spoke. “That blade must’ve been laced with something.”

“Be careful!” You called after him. You knew that a battle had begun. 

Then, you rushed to Rhett’s side. “I’m here,” you assured him, lovingly squeezing his shoulder. “I’m right here, baby.” 

His teeth were chattering, and his eyes were squeezed shut, a reaction from the pain he was in. 

Your shaking hands moved to unbutton his torn flannel, carefully pulling the fabric aside so you could take a look at the damage. You gasped softly at the sight of the wound. It bled crimson, but there was a discoloration around it. That blade had definitely been laced. 

His skin was cool to the touch, and it sent a pang of terror through you. Tuning your ears in to his heartbeat, you could hear that it had begun to slow. 

“Oh, God,” you whimpered. “Don’t you dare die on me, Rhett! Hold on a little longer for the doctor to get here!”

At that moment, the bathroom door came open. Amy had heard the commotion, and she made sure the kids were settled before she moved to see what was happening. 

“What’s going on?” She asked, as she closed the door behind her. She saw Rhett on the bed, and she gasped softly as she rushed to you. “What did they do to him?”

“Oh, Ames,” you cried, turning and immediately wrapping your arms around her as tears began to stream down your cheeks. “He stabbed him with a poisoned blade!”

Amy’s face paled. “Did you call for the doctor?”

“Malakai is getting her. But I…I don’t know if he can hold on that long.” You released her, moving to Rhett’s beside again. You reached for his hand, squeezing it tight. 

He was so cold. 

With your free hand, you reached up to brush his hair away from his forehead. His eyes fluttered open, only to fall shut again as he moaned softly in pain. 

“Hurts,” he whispered, as if speaking any louder would cause him more physical pain. 

“I know. I’m so sorry. Just hold on for me, okay?”

“What should I do with the kids?” Amy asked, uncertain. 

“I don’t…I don’t know,” you replied. You didn’t want them to see him like this. But there was an ache in your chest, and an intense feeling of dread. He was slipping away, you could tell. Whatever poison had been on that dagger was going to kill him.

What if he was gone before the pack doctor arrived? What if the children didn’t get a chance to say goodbye? Your hand came up to cover your mouth as you muffled a broken sob. How quickly things had changed. One moment, your family was talking and laughing around the breakfast table, and the next, the love of your life was fighting to stay alive, as your children watched a movie in the bathroom, unaware that their father was in such dire straits. 

“Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it,” Amy continued, reaching out to place her hand on your shoulder. 

But you couldn’t. You bent forward, your face buried in your hands as you let out a wail of agony, fingers tugging at the roots of your hair. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be. Yet here you stood, in the middle of a cold, hard reality.

So you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, hastily wiping your tears away. Your brief moment of emotional turmoil had passed, because you had no choice but to let it. You had little ones to be strong for. They needed you. 

It was almost as if you shut off that scared, stricken part of yourself for that moment. Moving without hesitation, you grabbed the blaket that you kept at the end of the bed, pulling it over him, up to his shoulders, so that his wound wasn’t visible. Then, you turned on your heel, making a beeline for the bathroom, where you quietly opened the door and stepped inside.

There, you found your children huddled beneath a blanket, engrossed in the movie that was playing on your laptop. “Pups, I need you to listen to Mama for a minute,” you quietly spoke, reaching out to pause the movie. 

Zoella, who’d been snuggled in Arya’s lap, immediately reached for you, whining softly. You soothed her, lifting the one-year-old into your arms before you knelt down in front of the remaining three, trying to choose your next words carefully. “Your daddy got hurt just now, and it’s made him very sick. I want all of you to see him, but you have to be very gentle, alright? We can’t jump on top of him on the bed, we can’t even climb into his lap. But I want you to come and see him for a minute.”

“Is it a big boo-boo or a little one?” Young Leia asked, her eyes wide with concern.

“It’s a big boo-boo,” you softly replied. 

“Is the doctor gonna come and feel him better?” She continued to question. 

Despite yourself, you managed to smile softly at her mixup of words, though your heart was breaking in two. “She’s going to try, baby,” you whispered. Then you rose to stand. “Now come on, I want you to follow me.”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself before you cautiously led your children out into the bedroom, where Amy had taken a seat on the edge of the bed. She was clutching Rhett’s hand. 

You had the littles gather beside him. It was Arya who spoke first. “Daddy?” She whispered, her voice shaking. 

Rhett’s head moved slightly toward her, and he managed to open his eyes. He tried to plaster a weak smile across his face, but he couldn’t. “Hey, little pup,” he murmured, though it took great labor to do so. 

Arya began to cry, and she turned, burying her face against your belly. “Shh,” you soothed her. 

Your eyes drifted to Rhett’s face, and you saw an anguish you’d never seen before. Seeing his family in pain, and inadvertently being the cause of that pain, was more than he could bear. 

“Hey, let’s give Daddy a hug, alright?” You suggested, gently guiding Arya away from you and toward the bed. 

She wrapped her arms around her father’s neck, resting her forehead against his. Her tears dripped down onto his face, but you could see that they weren’t all hers. They were mingling with his own tears.

“Are you going to be okay, Daddy?” Arya asked. 

“I…I don’t know,” he honestly replied. 

Immediately, she turned back to you, weeping all over again. Rhett squeezed his eyes shut, his bottom lip quivering. You noticed sweat on his brow. His skin had somehow grown paler. 

But you wanted each child to get a chance to hug him, so you pushed your fear aside and encouraged Max to give him a hug, and then little Leia. Finally, you leaned down with Zoella in your arms and said “give Daddy a kiss, Zozo,” and she happily kissed him on the cheek, because she’d always loved giving kisses, even when she was a small baby. 

There, in those fleeting moments, Rhett was surrounded by those he cherished most. And he knew, that if he was going to succumb to his injury, he would go peacefully, knowing that he was loved. 

But that peace was soon interrupted by the sound of Malakai returning with Doctor Tenpenny. The tender moment was forgotten as the pair came rushing up the stairs in a hurry. The abruptness of it all sent the children into a bit of a frenzy. Zoella and Leia began to cry. Max and Arya huddled close to you, frightened. 

In a split second, you had to decide what to do. Their panic was only going to worsen the situation, and possibly put Rhett into distress. Thinking fast, you quickly guided them to the stairs, waving Amy over as you did. 

“Look at me,” you spoke to the young woman, and she lifted her fearful blue eyes to yours. 

“Let’s get them downstairs, it’s better if they’re safely out of the way. Are you okay to stay with them in Arya’s room? Or do you think you want me to stay with you?” You could see how upset she was. You didn’t want to overwhelm her. 

“No, I-I can handle it. I’ll keep them safe inside and I’ll put the dresser in front of the door, just in case anyone tries to come in.”

You reached out to squeeze her hand. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Together, you guided the children downstairs, where you led them safely to Arya’s room. As soon as you had them all settled on the bed, you knelt to speak to them. “I need you to be brave for me, okay? I know you’re scared. It’s okay to be scared. But right now, I need to go upstairs and be with Daddy. Stay with Amy, she’ll keep you safe. Alright?”

“Mama, don’t leave,” Arya whimpered. 

You took her sweet face in your hands. “I’m not leaving. I’ll just be right upstairs. Be my brave girl, okay?”

“O-okay,” she whispered in reply. 

You kissed the top of each of their heads before you finally slipped away, rushing to pull the door shut behind you before you dashed back upstairs. 

There, you found Rose Tenpenny hovering over Rhett, carefully examining his wound. Malakai had left as quickly as he’d come, because he had to get back outside to defend the pack. That left just you and the doctor in the room. 

Quietly, you moved to stand at Rose’s side, and she paused to glance up at you. Her expression was grim, and it made your heart sink like a stone in your chest. “He’s in a bad way,” she told you. “Just from the way the wound looks, I can tell that dagger was laced with wolfsbane.”

A gasp tore from your throat, and your hand came up to cover your mouth in shock. “Oh my god,” you whispered. 

Wolfsbane was poison to wolves. Poison of the deadliest kind. Surviving its effects was unheard of. 

“It’s already in his bloodstream. It doesn’t take long for it to set in,” she explained. 

You held back a sob, the hand over your mouth lowering to rest against your belly, where your unborn pup lay. You had only one thought. “He’s going to die, isn’t he?”

The doctor’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Her eyes, deep brown and ever sympathetic, filled with tears. She could not sugarcoat her diagnosis. 

“I can give him some ancient herbal medicines that will help slow its effects, and ease his pain. But I’m afraid that all I can do right now is make him comfortable. I’m sorry.”

Your tearful eyes flickered to Rhett’s sickly form. His eyes were closed. His breathing was shallow. He was getting worse by the minute, and your world was falling apart. Your shoulders shook as another set of sobs wracked your body, painful and deep. 

You were losing him. And there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

To be continued…

-

taglist:

@bradshawsbitch @laracrofted @sebsxphia @milesmillergf @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @withahappyrefrain @damrlova @just-in-case-iloveyou @theliterarybeldam @nobody7102 @agentorange9595 @powerlvr25 @mygyn @yanna-banana @whisperofsong @kmc1989 @peachystenbrough @callsign-magnolia @briseisgone @up-thereinthesky

[oblivionbladetd]

Lily/Lorch’s video on Media Literacy is a lot to unpack, so I’m just going to start with the most important part —

She honestly believes that having a point is the exact same thing as being objectively correct, and that’s why villains can never have a point and still be villains in her eyes.

Do I even need to tell you how ignorant and dangerous this kind of mindset is?

Please explain to the youngsters in the audience why she’s utterly wrong in this belief.

I could preach ethics all day long, but who's to say mine are the same as yours? Or anybody else's?

If we want objectively correct, then we can just look at Ultron or Thanos. Statistically speaking, we will never know true, lasting peace. Also, statistically speaking, half our population just up and disappeared in an instant. As long as we can pull the inevitable socioeconomic collapse out of a 90-degree nosedive, it's still a net positive. The only problems they had were that for Ultron, it's that the save humanity by killing humanity is not exactly great for humanity. the world indeed probably would be better without us, but i will not be made to apologize for having a sense of self-preservation.... And with Thanos, the sticking point really is that when you are playing with true infinite, there are actually limitless better options than his initial one.

There are indeed a lot of problems if you just throw ethics to the wind and live in a world where the ends justify the means 100% of the time. Indeed, a lot of the greatest tragedies of human history are statistical non-issues, objectively unimportant. If the ends justify the means, then I guess eugenics and mass culling are hunky dory as well. It's logic that has already been used to justify horrible acts all around the globe from times modern to ancient.

If she wasn't just moving the goalposts in a stupid vendetta against a bunch of cheeky goobers, most villains have points. It's just good character writing. Outside of captain planet ass villains, nobody really sees themselves as a villain. There is a point to their cruelty, not always a great one, but a point nonetheless.

Let me tell you about a guy named Xykon for a webcomic called Order of the Stick. One of the protagonists, V, gets a humongous expansion to their spell list in a soul splice and fuck all else, full of bravado after nuking a dragon with a large amount of epic level spells gets it in their head the big bad ain't shit. After a brief bout of figuring out that hitting a spellcaster with far more practical experience and, more importantly, levels is easier said than done along with running a concentration based buff with a con of 6 means your epic super wizard transformation is good for all of three sturdy slaps being kinda ill advised. Proceeds to hit him with the single greatest speech in dnd fiction on how impermanent power is nothing and that whatever power you do have doesn't matter as long as you actually have it, proving it by showing that even the hail Mary of instant invisibility is nothing with little more than a higher than average spacial awareness and enough strength in their fleshless hands to crush a windpipe. Imagine being so outclassed an undead sorcerer that literally has magic imbued in his very bones switches to standard knuckle tossing just to put things in the ballpark of fair...

He has a good point and is very evil. Unapologetically so. If you are willing to let your mind explore and try to see through eyes that aren't yours, you will discover perspectives that will only ever enhance your understanding of the world. Hell, the very fact that there are war crimes is a widespread understanding that the only appreciable difference between the infantry of one country and another is a set of beliefs that might not survive the first time a soldier realizes he was a single inch away from being a corpse, so adding prolonged suffering is just needlessly cruel.

Hell, I'd welcome it as an open challenge to defend any villain as having a point because, again, short of stuff like has eaten bad vibes soup (chase young) or simply being a ancient force of nature. The list of bad guys that just are with zero explanation or justification is not as long as you'd think.

[crueltyserpent]

When she introduces us, she’s either my girlfriend or my mom. She’s neither of course, she killed my mom and my girlfriend so long ago at this point. Sometimes I think she chooses whichever she thinks will make me more uncomfortable; it’s not like whoever she introduces us to will live long enough for their thoughts on it to matter. If I were to choose a name for what I am, I would probably go with captive. Victim also comes to mind, but it’s hard to feel like I’m the most victimized person in the room when she’s cutting off the fingers of a naked woman one by one.  At least she’s not making me eat them this time. The “here comes the airplane” bit with raw human flesh isn’t nearly as funny as she thinks it is.

If I guess why she keeps me around, why I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere like every other poor bitch who get’s her attention, I’d guess it’s because simply torturing attractive women to death every other day doesn’t fully sate her appetite for cruelty. Sure, her ability to wring physical pain out of a stranger is staggering, but there’s a special type of satisfaction she gets from the form of psychological torture that is only possible to inflict on someone she keeps close for an extended period of time. I don’t know if she chose me because something about me was uniquely appealing to hurt or she just liked how my dick felt inside her, but at this point I’m fairly confident she’s sunk too much work into messing with my head to casually replace me.

The woman bleeding out on the floor is the owner of the Air BNB we’re staying at, a chipper blonde thirtysomething who was now karmically paying for the fact that nothing in her life had ever gone wrong before. I used to vomit seeing a girl taken apart like this. Now it’s boring enough that I can sit on the bed reading a romance novel while barley acknowledging the poor cunt’s slowly decreasing number of body parts. This is an easy one, relatively speaking. I don’t really have enough emotional energy left to feel bad for well to do women a decade older than me who’d never give me so much as a smile if I weren’t a customer.

I call myself a captive, but it’s not like I couldn’t walk out of the room if I wanted to, physically speaking. She wouldn’t stop me, she’d continue her ruthless execution and not even remark on me leaving. I was never bound (except for sex), never locked in a room, always free to go where I wanted. It had just been incredibly clear to me that if I ever made an attempt to do something she disapproved of, she could make my life so much worse than it already was as her unwilling partner in crime. One time she had left me alone for three months, letting me think I was free, only to return and kill every single person I had met and liked to any degree. I was trapped with her because she had created a situation where helping her murder people every few days was the decision I could make with the lowest innocent body count. And it meant that sometimes women like this died instead of the cute queer girls my age who used to blow me in alleys. Seeing someone I might have been friends with in a different life die was a whole different story to something like this.

I turn the page, working my way through a particularly arbitrary love triangle as I hear the death rattle. I don’t remark on it, but I’m not at all surprised when my bloodstained captor sits at the foot of the bed, looking at me with those hungry eyes. Don’t get me wrong, this woman is evil, the worst person I could even imagine who I would do anything to be free of.

She’s also probably the hottest person I’ve ever met. She was the first woman ever to be hot enough to make me cheat on my girlfriend, in what was either the greatest mistake of my life or the sole decision that kept me alive, depending on what would have happened if I turned her down. Her nude body sprayed with fresh blood is a powerful sight, and her toothed smile makes me shiver as blood rushes between my legs.

“Anything spicy happening in your book, honey?” She asked in a soft, motherly tone, her hands moving to undo my belt buckle. I hate how much her sexy mom routine works on me. It’s humiliatingly effective. I should be anywhere else right now, doing anything else, doing anyone else, but as she rides me, her other victims blood dripping off her chest over my face, I can’t do anything but whimper in enjoyment.

[artsymumof5]

The greatest man in history, Jesus, had no servants, yet they called Him Master, had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher, had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer, had no army, yet kings feared Him and won no military battles, yet He conquered the world, committed no crime, yet they crucified Him…He was buried in a tomb, yet he lives today. HE is the REASON for the SEASON

[beifong-brainrot]

Why do I get so attached to minor/side antagonists in tlok, especially Aiwei and Baatar Jr?

Like Aiwei is, from what I know, the first confirmed gay man in the franchise (we all hype Kya up where is Aiwei's gay clout huh), a member of an anarchist syndicate, and spent years undercover. And he has a slay nosering!

Tbh Aiwei gives some autism vibes with how he constantly calls people out for lying and is very blunt with his opinions and feelings, like when he told some random noodle seller that he was a liar bcs the guy claimed to be selling "the best noodles" or when Mako was trying to be polite and Aiwei called him out for lying too.)

But he's also so mysterious. Like he's been in the Red Lotus for years presumably, unless Zaheer could reqruit from a jail cell, and also has been infiltrating Zaofu for years, long enough for Su to consider him family. But like man I need details.

And he seems.... genuinely nice? To some degree. Like he helped Lin out when she was sick from stress and shit, even though it would probably be beneficial to him to have an enemy in a weakened state, and I think he genuinely cared for the Beifongs, at least to some degree.

I need to know more about him, his relationship to the Beifongs, his reasons for being in the Red Lotus.

And Baatar Jr is also so interesting but people only bring him up when they're trying to make Kuvira look better by being like: "oh Baatar did this shit too." Like yeah bitch but he's also a surprisingly interesting character on his own. Like if you're gonna talk about his warcrimes let's talk about his wonderfully crafted inferiority complex.

Like he's if Bumi had an engineering degree and also was evil. He's the firstborn child of TOPH FUCKING BEIFONG the greatest earthbender who ever lived. His other brothers are metalbenders, and especially the twins are clearly carrying on the family legacy. His only fellow nonbender is Opal who is then ripped away by RANDOMLY SPAWNING AIRBENDING. And he's lived in his father's shadow, literally carrying his name and simply engineering his father's projects instead of inventing anything ot his own?

And his love and dedication to Kuvira is genuinely devastating. Like how he prioritised her over everything, his family, the Earth Empire... and the bravery? He stared down at Korra who was in the Avatar state and holding him up with one arm and he laughed. HE LAUGHED IN HER FACE AND HER OTHERWORLDLY GLOWING EYES THE AUDACITY. Thw only think he feared was being seperated from Kuvira agh

He looks so unimpressed wtf [its bcs he's dating Kuvira right they provably do way scarier shit in the bedoom huh]

And the fact that he invented the avatarverse version of nuclear warfare FOR THE LOVE OF A WOMAN. A woman who then tried to kill him with it omg the drama! And also his VA did give a really good performance especially in the moments when he wames up after Kuvira's betrayal (even though he does kinda sound like Nazeem from Skyrim).

I also admire his "Wing and Wei will never forgive me. And Opal." Vs. Kuvira's "I said sorry why are you guys still mad at me". We love a king who takes responsibility for his war crimes and betrayal. Like yeah he still got of wayyy to easy but he's at least clearly not expecting forgiveness. And I do kinda love him just completely swerving Kuvira in the comic she does kinda deserve it lol.