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1kook · 4 years

Text

EXPLORER

jjk x female reader

FOR GCN’S ❝ 23 | JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY PROJECT ❞ ! Alien AU | “I want to have your last name!” | “I like when you do that, it makes me crazy.”

summary; Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. warnings; smut in the forms of cunnilingus, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, anal, tit play, and all that jazz bc surprise its tentacle porn rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous; FLUFF, strangers to friends to lovers, curious alien kook, there’s a saber tooth tiger mention, virginity is a social construct, they both have skewed perceptions of sex and love, and idk what else word count; 17.8k

notes; someone said once “all u ever do is write college aus 😃” and i was like lol true but i was also a virgo and was like “i’ll prove u wrong” and next thing i knew i was writing a 17k alien au clap for me lads

special thanks to; my savior and editor rumu ( @kigurumu ) who very politely tells me when im making up words n also when shit doesn't make sense but lets me make stupid final decisions that will come back to bite me in the ass<3 and also my gf yeji @suqakoo who watched me crash and burn about ten times while writing this monstrosity of fic and just laughed her support amazes me<3

BEFORE READING SEE HERE; body marks, under eye marks, sixam that i stole from the sims 4

He comes with the sole purpose of populating this uncharted territory with his seed.

Jungkook has been on many missions abroad. He’s visited about every planet in Sector 76 before this, the largest collection of neighboring galaxies known to exist. And because of that, he likes to think he’s well educated in extraterrestrial affairs, quite knowledgeable in the barbaric ways of the foreigners. They see, they mate. Pretty simple.

For the past couple years, as leading field researcher of Sixam, Jungkook has been exclusively studying every creature he comes across. He enjoys cataloging their habits, their mating cycles, and the unique culture they develop, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not.

Granted, he’s never been on a mission like this.

This type of mission has never been his.

When the great planet of Sixam wishes to settle colonies of new species— Sixamian bred with whatever other species that have deemed suitable —they usually task people like Namjoon or Seokjin, both high ranking generals of the Sixamian Intergalactic Corp. with a near immaculate genetic makeup. Their genotypes carry strong traits, and are oftentimes most reflected in their phenotypes as well. Beings like Namjoon or Jin are the epitome of what it means to be Sixamian, which is why Jungkook is surprised when they ask him to place his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7 of the Via Láctea solar system, otherwise known as ‘Earth.’

It wasn’t that Jungkook had major self image issues, nor did he think he was particularly bad to look at. In fact, Jungkook thinks he’s pretty amazing. Of course he doesn’t compare to Namjoon or Jin, but quite frankly, the comparison is skewed by the fact he works in a different field than them. You cannot compare black holes to asteroid belts; in a similar fashion, you cannot compare military generals to scientific researchers.

Anyway, Jungkook has never been to Planet 43 Z-7, but some of his coworkers have. They all claim it is a beautiful place, filled to the brim with life and culture never before seen.

Frankly, Jungkook doesn’t believe it.

He’s seen hundreds of planets, thousands of species, so he hardly feels amazed anymore. There is nothing enjoyable about other planets when he comes from Sixam, quite possibly the most intellectually advanced one in the universe. And he says this having met Yoongi of Planet 732 T-1, another being near immaculate in terms of cognitive abilities.

But not as perfect as Sixamians.

Hoseok says Planet 43 Z-7 has all sorts of unique artifacts, like these edible arrangements called ‘hot dogs’ you eat between two pieces of raised yeast. Planet 43 Z-7 has been unmarked for eons now, but is a popular hideout for rebelling Sixamians during their early years. Jungkook was never one of those types, but he has a handful of friends who were.

Needless to say, Jungkook isn’t looking forward to his mission. He asks Namjoon and Jin for tips on how to approach the reproductive members in the species, if there’s any protocol he needs to follow, but they simply laugh it off. They’ve both had the pleasure of, well, pleasuring some of the most beautiful creatures in the universe, so Jungkook’s incompetence must be a sight to see.

Airship handler Jimin is the last face he sees on Sixam. He’s as relaxed as ever, strapping Jungkook into his travel pod like this is just another one of his research trips and not his first ever population operation. He pats his shoulder once, tells him to bring him back something called a ‘Nintendo DS’ that his partner Taehyung has been begging for since the last time they went to Planet 43 Z-7, but Jungkook has no idea what that is.

And then he’s off.

Jungkook has long since grown comfortable with the emptiness of space, a desolate feeling that oddly made him feel at home. But, as he hurtles towards his destination, there’s a newfound sense of anxiety that consumes him at the thought of this unknown planet— this ‘Earth’ that his fellow Sixamian friends speak so highly about.

He lands in a field. Well, ‘lands’ is a bit of a stretch; his pod comes to a stop a few feet above Planet 43 Z-7’s surface, hovering over the natural flora that seems to grow in abundance in this part of the planet. It’s… dirty, compared to the sleek skyscrapers and glowing structures of Sixam.

He steps out tentatively, the vegetation crunching beneath the boots of his skintight spacesuit. The folks back at Sixam had told him that whatever the residents of this planet breathed in was compatible with Sixamians, but he still hesitates to click off his helmet.

The planet is quiet, save for the quiet chirping of some creature underground. The AI on his helmet pulls up the information before his very eyes, the advanced technology quickly tapping into wherever it was these beings stored their information. A mole cricket, he reads, first documented by a researcher about two hundred human years back. Very annoying.

His pod seals itself shut again, presumably heading back into orbit until Jungkook calls for it again. With it gone, he’s faced with the vast nothingness of Planet 43 Z-7, just grass and trees with very few things in between. He’s beginning to suspect Jimin might have sent him to the wrong coordinates, a void space on the planet with nothing but vegetation for miles.

Part of him is frustrated, beyond annoyed that he cannot even complete the one thing he came to do if there is no being in sight. But another part, the part of him that had been nervous to even accept this mission, feels grateful. Well, there was no use complaining about it now, he thinks. He pulls up his virtual journal, ready to catalogue every bit of vegetation he can set his eyes on.

After a while, his helmet becomes stuffy, the digital screen that plays over the glass piece fogging up with his breath. So Jungkook takes his chances and clicks it off, the sudden wash of oxygen filling his lungs quickly. It’s fresh and moist? It smells like his laboratories back on Sixam, the ones that took years of countless trips around the universe and meticulous gardening to cultivate. Yet here on Planet 43 Z-7, this type of phenomenon is common, and apparently, ignored by its residents.

One man’s trash was another man’s treasure, he supposes.

He’s scanning a peculiar organism, reddish and dome-shaped, when he hears the first crack of a twig. Immediately, his defenses rise. Jungkook was by no means a skilled warrior, but most Sixamians fared better than other creatures in the universe. Save for the few barbarian, primitive species they’ve encountered, 9/10 times any wild encounter was in their favor.

His eyes scan over the perimeter of the field, scanning, scanning, scanning— until he spots two, huge, glowing yellow eyes from distance. His eyes widen, flicking on the retractable blaster from his wrist and pointing it at the creature.

It’s bigger than him, with eyes that look over only a short distance before gradually dying down. He wonders if that’s the scope of its field of vision, crouching down along the vegetation. He creeps closer, rounds the bright beams until he can see the creature’s side, an oddly shaped thing, almost like a shell. It has wheels, he realizes, mentally jotting down the fact this species is advanced enough to develop such technology on their own.

Right as he’s beginning to lower his wrist, deciding this metal creature posed no threat from its lack of movement, something smaller moves around it, carrying a compact version of those glowing eyes.

Jungkook panics, wildly clicking through the modes on his wrists. He jumps from his blaster to the thermal detector, and the smaller creature that moves around the metal beast has a heat signature he’s never seen before, warmth that begins at its core but doesn’t drop drastically as it fans out. And then he’s switching to his electroscope and is startled to see that the smaller creature even carries an electric charge beneath its outer membrane.

This is terrifying, he thinks to himself, wondering why his friends back home had decided to trick him into believing Planet 43 Z-7 was remotely safe.

Before Jungkook can act rashly and accidentally kill that terrifying creature, he’s blindly stepping into a hole in the ground, a dip in the field. An uncontrollable yelp tears itself from his throat at the roll of his ankle.

Immediately, the yellow eye is upon him, flickering over his kneeling form in the vegetation. Jungkook freezes, caught in the all-seeing rays of the yellow eye. He wonders if this is the end, the end of an undoubtedly legendary run, as the creature slowly approaches.

Its figure is shrouded, the blinding eye turning them into just a silhouette that closes in on Jungkook fairly quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he never stepped out of his pod, when the beam flickers off.

“Hello?” a hesitant voice calls out, and then he’s met with you.

You had always believed holding out until marriage would come as an advantage. You played it safe your entire life, always did what you were told. You had grown up in a relatively traditional household, always following the rules like a good kid. Your parents said no dating until seventeen? You waited until seventeen. Your health classes in school said practice abstinence? You practiced abstinence.

Following the rules was what got you into a prestigious university. Following the rules is what got you your first, quite admirable, job. Following the rules is what had gotten you into your first serious relationship with your boyfriend, who became your fiancé, who would become the man to cheat on you three nights before your wedding.

Being a virgin— that symbol of purity —was supposed to make you desirable to men, you thought. It was supposed to protect you from bad experiences, keep you perfectly polished until the time came. You had many a friend who had engaged in sex at a young age, experienced mind blowing sex that would never be topped, even by their own future husbands. You had saved yourself from disappointment by saving yourself in general.

Except that concept, that meticulously followed tradition, was what ultimately drove your fiancé away.

Three days.

Three days before you would marry and lose that treasured thing you had been carrying around for the past twenty-five years, flushed clean down the drain all because he couldn’t wait any longer. He had managed four years with you, four memorable years where he had religiously told you he loved you every chance he got, regardless of your lack of sex life. Just to blow it for some barely legal chick at a bar.

Needless to say, you were done. Absolutely finished with him and your friends who claimed they “weren’t surprised” only after the fact, or your parents who had urged you to try again. You were done with this saving and waiting all for a man who ultimately did you dirty. You needed to get away from it all, and the only way to do that was to leave the city all together.

Your parents were uncomfortable with the idea. They said it was too brash a decision to give up after one try. But your whole future had been riding on this one try, and to have it completely ripped away from you crushed not only your hope but your pride.

On the other hand, your grandmother and her lifelong experiences with men understood you just perfectly. She was old, living in a retirement home near your parents’ home in one of your city’s many suburbs. There was a house out in the countryside, about a two-hour drive from the city. She had grown up there, and even though she hadn’t lived there in years, she simply couldn’t bring herself to sell it off. So she gave it to you.

It was a cute little thing, a stereotypical farmhouse surrounded by miles and miles of nothingness. Well, your neighbors were about half a mile off on either side, but who was walking half a mile for a cup of sugar? No one.

You loved it.

It was peace and quiet, long days of focusing on yourself and your tiny garden outback. There was no societal pressure to act right, or forced ideologies to make yourself the ‘perfect woman.’ It was just you and a stray cat that visited now and then, spending day after day reading and writing, working from home.

The trips into the city were far and few between. There was a general store close to your house, nestled into a quaint little town you visited every so often. And the mailmen still had to make their stops through here, so everything was practically at your fingertips. The only thing you had to do in the city was drop by the main branch office of your job. Your work had mostly been over a computer before, so moving to work at home was rather easy. However, there was still the occasional board meeting to sit through.

So here you were, three months into your new living situation and on your way back home from the city. The evening sun is beating down hot on your yellow Beetle. You were in desperate need for a check up, but you kept pushing it off and telling yourself tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. It seems tomorrow should have been today, because by the time the sun is setting, home is still another thirty minutes away and the temperature gauge is climbing to unhealthy levels.

The Beetle pushes for another two minutes before wheezing to a stop in the middle of nowhere, your angry slaps against the dashboard doing nothing to revive it. With a muttered curse, you switch the car off. The front lights remain on even as you round the dead car, angrily kicking the tire with your heel. It doesn’t budge.

You sigh, sinking down to your knees beside the opened door you came out of. The nearest mechanic was still a forty minutes’ drive from here, and you doubt anyone is still open. The con of small towns is that most of the businesses close after sunset. One glance at your phone lets you know it’s way too late to call anyone for help. You contemplate just walking to your house, but it’s dark and far, and your heels were only meant to be worn for an hour or two during your meeting. Not for an entire transcontinental trek back home.

Sighing, you decide your best bet is tinkering around yourself. You weren’t a total idiot, so you hope whatever is wrong with your car is something you can fix on your own. You shoot back up to your feet, patting the blood back into your face as you round the car.

There’s nothing but you and the Beetle for miles on end— or so you think.

Just as you flicker your flashlight over the expanse of grass, there’s a startled shout that scares the living daylights out of you, flashlight fumbling in your hand in your haste to see what it was.

Great, so not only were you stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but your heels to carry you to safety, but now there was also a man out there, hiding in the tall grass like a voyeur.

It’s a terrible idea, but you approach him anyway. There’s a huddled figure, a gleam of a bizarre outfit that has you shaking in your heels as you step closer to the edge of the road. And when you finally get close enough, the light shining over their figure, you’re not exactly sure what you’re looking at.

“Hello?” you call out, and are met with the most violet eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

Jungkook thinks you are an odd creature.

To begin with, you carry an electrical charge at your fingertips but are unable to revive your rickety metal ride with said touch. It is undoubtedly a trait he does not remember cataloguing in any other species before yours; it might rival the Sixamians’ aura sensing abilities, the little triangular markings beneath their eyes that allowed them to alter another’s emotions. Electricity beneath surface, he mentally notes for the nth time that night.

The inside of your vehicle is disgustingly mediocre, a mixture of old clogs and pipes he’s only seen in ancient Sixamian textbooks. Still, they’re devastatingly easy to figure out. One simple twist of a lid later and your car is revving back to life. You squeal and clap, clacking around on the frankly terrifying footwear you call heels that are practically knives as stilts.

Amazing, you cry, moving like a mini tornado around him. You don’t seem the least bit phased by his appearance, despite the initial shock you’d gotten when you first made eye contact. Actually, Jungkook thinks you might be the quickest extraterrestrial being to accept his existence as fact. He has to wonder what exactly goes on here that has these Humans, as Jimin has called them, so desensitized to the appearance of otherworldly figures such as himself.

You invite him into your moving death trap, not the least bit concerned with the chest piece of armor he removes and tosses into the seats behind him. Jungkook has been in a lot of near death situations, and somehow your manner of driving this metal box marks high on the list.

“My home,” you tell him when you finally pull up to a tiny shack of a house. It’s about the same size as his personal lab back on Sixam, so he wonders just which one of you is being deluded by the size. The car engine shuts off with a practiced flick of your wrist, and then you’re making your way up the front steps without sparing him a glance.

“Lovely,” he says at the entrance. He moves to travel deeper inside, but you warn him to remove his shoes. He does, hesitantly, bare feet padding along the wooden floors behind you. “Forgive me,” he apologizes, watching you bumble around a small space with a standing cooler and heat box. “I haven’t asked your name.”

You hum, tugging out two cups from a hanging cabinet. You fill them with a white substance, followed by a light brown powder that almost makes you sneeze, before shoving them into the heat box that begins suspiciously counting down. “__ ___,” you offer.

Jungkook frowns. “You have two names?” he asks skeptically. In Sixam, rarely anyone had two names. “Are you a government official?”

You laugh. “No, but I do work for an office. I have one name, and then my last name,” you explain.

This only perplexes him more. “A last name?” he repeats. “What is the purpose of this last name?”

You shrug, and the heat box beeps loudly. Jungkook twitches, ready to aim his blaster once more but you calm the beeping box with a gentle click that has the front opening, the most heavenly scent wafting into his nostrils. Oh Jungkook definitely needed to take that back. Much to his surprise, you hand him one of the handled cups, the sweet smell making his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Well,” you say, seemingly unaware of the way you just changed Jungkook’s entire life. “I have my name, and then I have my family’s name. Like, to show we’re in the same group, kinda,” you explain. “And it also helps sort of differentiate you from other people with the same first name.” You settle down on a seat in front of the counter, carefully blowing across the liquid contents of the mug. Jungkook doesn’t get why until he tries to take a sip and the liquid scalds his tongue. You laugh. “Gotta cool it down, silly.”

He feels silly. In fact, he feels beyond embarrassed that someone who is not a Sixamian is looking at him with the same eyes you look at an infant with. He has a strong need to reinforce his superiority over you.

“Well I am Jungkook,” he announces proudly. “Jungkook of Sixam. The only Jungkook of Sixam, because we do not believe in sharing something as intimate as our names with another,” he huffs. You scoff, a genuine look of amusement crossing your features that Jungkook simply does not understand.

It’s with a practiced grace that you set your cup down on the counter, face coming to a rest in in the palm of your hand as you watch him talk over himself about the intricacies of Sixamian names, and how each one is carefully selected at one’s first celebration to honor the first long year of life they overcame. That look on your face, that disgustingly entertained expression does not melt away, even when Jungkook hastily calls your people imbeciles to your face.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, staring deep into the contents of your hot cocoa, as you had called it when offering him a second cup, as if you don’t seem to disagree in the slightest. “Humans are like that.

There’s a quality to your voice, a rather melancholy tone that curls around your words that stops Jungkook’s tirade against your race for a moment. There’s a look in your eyes, hollow and alone, that he cannot place. He wonders if it’s from past experiences or from a shared Human trauma. Either way, he does not understand.

It’s with a shake of your head that you look up at him again, sweet smile back on your features. “Humans are selfish creatures, Jungkook,” you say.

He is not sure if he believes you.

Jungkook has traveled to many parts of the universe, has visited places your tiny Human brain may never comprehend. Yet he has not always received this treatment. There have been missions where he has been picked on and abused for his curiosity, rudely ejected back into the vast emptiness of space just because he wanted to know more, learn more. Not every planet welcomes him with a soft smile and a warm place to stay.

Despite the initial unimpressed confusion he felt upon entering Planet 43 Z-7, there is something about the quirk of your lips and gentle tapping of your fingers that intrigues him.

Huh, he thinks, subconsciously cataloguing your mannerisms in his head. He will write about this later.

You let Jungkook sleep in your quarters, a small area with a mattress that he sinks into with delight. There’s a change of clothing you set out on the edge of the bed, a rather shabby set that matches yours. He is reluctant to peel away his bodysuit, even more so when he realizes he is standing naked on a foreign planet with a very strange creature clattering around downstairs. He hurries into the clothes.

You peek your head into the room later on, carefully flicking off the lights as he settles onto the mattress. Jungkook is beyond tired, body fatigued from hurtling thousands of light years through space in such a short amount of time. The abundance of breathable oxygen is still something his body has to grow accustomed to. Your voice is soft as you whisper out a goodnight farewell that he can only sleepily mumble back.

Jungkook is quite literally the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. Well, person is a stretch considering you’re not entirely sure what he is, or where he’s from. When you found him, sadly crouched in the middle of nowhere, you wanted to convince yourself he was some random college boy lost on his way to a costume convention. But he’s not. His big purple irises are oddly bright, practically luminescent, and that’s definitely not something one could achieve through stage makeup. And he’s not a college student either, despite how youthful he looks, but a foreign being at least three times your age.

Or so he says.

Honestly, you’re torn between wanting to write him off a nutjob or believing he is this highly intelligent extraterrestrial being. In the case he is the latter, you find it odd that of all the planets in your solar system— a whopping eight, maybe nine —he chose crappy old Earth to visit.

Jungkook moves like a fine tuned instrument, graceful limbs wandering around your home and backyard the next morning. His little head piece, a unique accessory that wraps around the base of his skull like a microphone headset or something, seems to keep him in constant communication with his fellow brethren so long as he wears it. So he wears it all the time.

Still, you’re able to differentiate between his messages back home and his mindless mumbles. Those usually happen more often than not, soft muttering as he inspects your garden, vivid descriptions of the plainest things like an onion.

“Lemonade’s ready,” you call, stepping into your backyard. Jungkook peers over your rosemaries like a bunny, wide eyes scanning the pitcher you set out on your back porch’s table. Carefully, he steps around your meticulous rows of vegetables. He’s wearing the clothes you lent him last night, a pair of shorts and a shirt your brother had left when he visited a few weeks ago. They fit him nicely, shorts just shy of his knees.

“This is lemond-aid?” he asks quizzically, tentative hands reaching for the quickly perspiring glass. He has unique markings that begin at his hands, twisting and curling carefully around his arms. They’re gold in the sunlight, contrasting softly against his relatively peachy skin. There’s a matching set on his knees that wrap over and around his thighs, beneath his shorts. He looks every bit the celestial being, yet here he is marveling over the lemon slice balanced on the rim of his glass.

“Lemonade,” you correct, sitting down on your rocking chair. Your floppy sun hat protects you from the brutal rays of the sun, practically scorching in this summer heat. It reminds you of the honeymoon you were supposed to take a few months back. You stomp out the memory.

Jungkook takes tentative sips, stopping every few seconds to smack his lips at the taste. Then, suddenly, he’s plopping down on the wooden planks of your porch criss-cross applesauce. The bracelet-like contraption he had removed from his suit is sitting on his wrist by itself, with Jungkook rapidly tapping some unseeable button on it until a blue hologram appears between the two of you.

“Woah,” you gasp, the projection flawless and stable. Jungkook gets to work tapping at it, unrecognizable symbols appearing on the screen. His glass of lemonade is by his knee, ice tinkling inside.

“Lemond-aide,” he repeats, mouth moving awkwardly around the world. He glances at you for confirmation. You shake your head. Frustrated, he scoots up beside you, pressed against your leg like a puppy. “Say it,” he commands, tapping at his screen once.

You clear your throat. “Uh, lemonade?” you offer. Jungkook nods, clicks something else, and then your voice is repeating itself back to the two of you. He looks for your approval once more. “Perfect,” you nod, slightly bashful to hear your own voice played back like that.

Content with your approval, he gets back to work, clicking and typing wildly at the screen until it’s filled to the brim with those strange symbols. When he’s done, he says his name and date into the same recording device and shuts off his hologram. “It is an interesting thing,” he says quietly, bare feet swinging over the edge of the porch. “A sweet drink procured from a tangy fruit.”

You nod, can’t stop the smile that consumes your features at his childlike wonder. You know it’s not his fault that such simple things astound him, but there’s something about Jungkook’s genuine curiosity and snarky tongue that make you feel young again. Like a teenager in her prime, sitting with a silly high school boy. Not a woman sitting on the cusp of thirty, alone and untrusting of the world.

“What are hot dogs?” Jungkook cuts in abruptly, turning to face you with those purple eyes of his. You can’t help it; you laugh.

“I have some in the fridge,” you answer, leaving your rocking chair and him on the porch. Jungkook doesn’t sit still for long, quietly trailing behind you inside the house. The stray cat is here today, slinking around your ankles as you scour the fridge for the hot dogs. It’s a perfect day for a barbecue, you think, with hot dogs and lemonade.

The cat wanders over towards Jungkook, sniffing at his ankles before nuzzling against him too. “You also have smilodon on your planet,” he comments. “You are comfortable with such murderous beasts in your home?”

You furrow your brows. “It’s just a cat,” you shrug, leaning down to pick up the furry baby. He purrs against your chest while Jungkook glares at it.

“Have you taken its teeth for your own?” he asks.

“What?” you laugh. “He has all his teeth.”

Jungkook frowns. “No, his unusually large canines,” he explains, mimics two giant fangs with his fingers. “Is this a kitten of a smilodon?” You have no idea what he’s saying at this point, rubbing the cat’s back gently as Jungkook talks over himself. He does that a lot, you realize, ramble about facts you would otherwise see as of little importance.

The afternoon is spent grilling hot dogs, Jungkook carefully trailing the cat he has taken to calling Smilodon. You watch from the grill as he follows the cat around the garden, gently shooing it off when it gets too close to your broccoli plants. He’s cute, you think, watching him maneuver around your plants with the grace of a trained dancer.

He absolutely adores the hot dogs, spending another twenty minutes typing out one of those funky journal entries into the computer in his wristband. He asks about the Nintendo DS, something that makes you laugh boisterously at the absurdity of the question.

When it gets dark outside, he stands in one place and stares up at the sky, rendered motionless at the sight. Jungkook doesn’t like coffee, but he loves hot cocoa. He settles in to watch the nightly news with you, every five minutes filled with an abundance of questions about your planet— which he refers to by a unique set of numbers and letters you’ve never heard before —and what you like to do. Every tidbit of information is documented in his wristband.

He sleeps on the couch this time, feeling shameful to have pulled you away from such an amazing mattress. He says goodnight shyly from the bottom of the stairs, followed by a tentative wave he saw you give the mailman that morning. You say it back and fall asleep, the alien in your living room not making a peep.

Thus a whole week passes with Jungkook of Sixam.

On the seventh day of his stay, Jungkook is woken up by the quiet beeping of his headpiece. It’s Chief Kim Namjoon, calling to ask how his population operation of Planet 43 Z-7 is going. Jungkook stills, the quiet chirping of the birds outside your window filling in the space. The water is running somewhere inside your house, signaling your conscious state.

His answers are quick and sharp, nervous laughter falling from his lips as he rushes to end the call with Namjoon. He manages to do so just as you appear in the living room, skin nice and dewy from your morning shower, eyes still showing signs of your peaceful slumber.

“Good morning,” you rasp quietly, a soft ruffle of his hair as you pass by Jungkook on your way to the kitchen. His face feels warm, under eye markings surely glowing a vivid red at the gesture you have gradually ingrained into him, one that makes his heart rev up like an engine preparing to shoot off millions of light years into the distance.

Jungkook enters the kitchen behind you, your pet smilodon greeting the two of you with a gentle head butt against his ankles that is unlike any other smilodon he has encountered before. He sits at the counter as you work on breakfast, the faint scent of your cucumber body scrub wafting by with every turn you make in the small kitchen.

And then he’s thinking.

There are a few crucial bits of information that Jungkook has come to realize over the past week, some of which he hears directly from you, others he picks up from watching your ancient projection in the living room.

One: of the variety of human genders that exist on Earth, you are one that seems to carry the specific set of bodily structures necessary for reproduction. He’s inspected you carefully the last few days, watching the way you move and carry yourself, just to ensure such is true. By finding you right away, Jungkook was halfway to his goal of settling his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7.

Two: unlike most humans of Planet 43 Z-7, your body seems oddly… preserved, to say the least. He knows you are familiar with their reproductive rituals as he’s watched a few of said rituals on the projection box in your living room with you. They were very normalized among your people, with almost every broadcast including at least one mention of them every day. Despite that, your body shows no significant reaction to the scenes, and one sneaky scan of your vitals shows Jungkook that you have yet to participate in this ritual yourself.

Lastly, Jungkook has come to the terrible, godawful conclusion that he does not wish to rope you into breeding with him for the sake of Sixam’s colonialist ways. There’s something about you and your people that does not deserve to be seized by Jungkook and his people. A sort of untouched quality of the progression of your species.

As the oldest and most advanced planet in quite possibly the entire universe, Sixam holds significant power over everyone else. Their higher order brains have helped many a planet follow the right path in attaining the same level of perfection. They were saviors of some sort, touching every planet they visited with the finger of a god. While there were certainly some Sixamians who did not believe in this way of life, of stretching their hold across entire galaxies, others did.

Jungkook had always fallen in the middle. He had no particular desire to reign over the planets he visited, because his interests had always laid with the existence of the individuals on said planets. He was a researcher, not a military official like Namjoon or Jin. But he has to admit that time and again his research has procured the same results; while there were certainly other planets where the beings were more beautiful or the landscape more stunning than that of Sixam, there was not a single planet that matched their advanced mental capabilities.

Until now.

Your civilization moved in a rather fluid way, always changing and never settling. There were eras he learned about on TV, revolutions where one invention rose to prominence, where one sub-race rose to power. Even now, a simple scan through your news broadcasts leaves Jungkook curious. For the first time in a long time, his countless journal entries of information do not lead him to a plausible conclusion. Would you make it right and settle your disputes? Or would this endless fighting, sometimes carried out passively and through words, other times with the use of advanced weaponry, continue until the end of time? Jungkook didn’t know.

And it was wrong of him to ask you to carry the burden of introducing an entirely new species— a Human and Sixamian at once —for the sole belief that it would somehow “fix” your planet. For the sake of your people, it was best if Jungkook just bugged off.

And yet, the soft scent of your body lotion, the gentle brush of your hands against his scalp, the delicate way his name rolls off your lips like you’re tasting it for the first time, they all make his heart beat unnaturally fast beneath his skin. They make him yearn for a feeling, an emotion, he cannot quite describe.

He was in trouble.

Ovulation creeps up on you early into the next week.

You hadn’t been too focused on it this time around, mostly just worried about your period and how awkward it would feel around Jungkook of Sixam. Preoccupied with stockpiling pads and finding your heat pad, you forget about the few days before the period. The time where your libido rages like an animal that has been poked at one too many times.

The realization dawns on you slowly. Jungkook is sitting on the couch, avidly watching a documentary on ancient civilizations. He’s got one hand in a bowl of popcorn you set out for him, another mindlessly toying with a stray thread on a throw pillow. It’s when he looks at you with those big purple eyes, lips pouty and pink, that something distinctly carnal flickers on inside of you.

You ignore it. You wrap those feelings in a box and shove it deep into the recesses of your mind.

But Jungkook was devastatingly handsome, that much you’d known from the moment you saw him. When he’s not in the sun, those Sixamian markings wrap around his body in charcoal streaks, peeking out from the hem of whatever clothes you find for him everyday. For the most part, he’s been running through the pack of plain shirts you picked up from the general store, and the same two pairs of shorts on rotation. His body is artfully toned, thighs big and bulging, but waist small and tapered. His lower lip is the juiciest pink color you’ve ever seen, plush and soft, framing two rows of pearly white teeth. His hair is jet black, part favoring one side more than the other.

His hands are firm on the rare occasion he touches you; on your hips when you stumble around the kitchen, on your shoulder when he’s pointing out a particular constellation to you. Jungkook’s presence slowly begins driving you to insanity.

The worst thing is, you cannot tell if his curiosity comes from your status as a potential partner or his overall interests in your species. You want to convince yourself that he is just as interested in your body as an individual as you are his, but those hopes are dashed with every question he asks. Where does the sink drain? Where does the chocolate powder come from? How far is the nearest government official?

So you calm your thoughts, push them away with the same practiced ease you’ve mastered from a young age. Your purity remains untainted by others, only teased in the shower when Jungkook is wandering around outside. Then and only then do you offer yourself a reprieve, press your fingers down between your thighs and wonder what it is like to have someone else there.

You picture two purple eyes peering up at you from below, a pink tongue carefully licking against your puffy folds until you’re shaking. How well endowed was a Sixamian? You didn’t know, but you imagine them to be quite big if the subtle shifts you catch of Jungkook every now and then are any sign.

One finger wiggles past the tight ring of muscle surrounding your hole, the intrusion makes your knees buck. You sink along the shower wall, huffing and puffing as your fingers dance along your swollen clit, thumb swirling hurried circles around the bud until you’re cumming, body spasming from the force.

The water rains down on you, washes your shameful acts down the drain. Vaguely, you wonder if Jungkook is still outside or if the heat drove him into your air conditioned home. Did he hear you? For all his curiosity, you’re certain there are some aspects of the human experience that Jungkook did not want to see. His roommate/caretaker/only-human-friend masturbating was probably one of them.

It has been years since your fantasies included any other man, faithfully revolving around your ex-fiancé until the very end. It is scary how quickly the mere idea of Jungkook riles you up, how that violet gaze is enough to tear you apart.

When you resurface in the living room, the house is still. The only sounds are that of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the occasional creaking of the pipes. Jungkook is still outside, you sigh in relief, catching his fluffy head of hair bounding across the front yard with Smilodon on his heels. When he turns, you catch his eyes and he pauses. He offers you that same cute wave he learned last week, gentle smile gracing his features.

It’s the soft curve of his cheeks, eyes crinkling at the corners, that make the rapid thumping in your chest settle. You raise your hand, waving back through the window. All was well.

For now.

The next morning brings with it an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Namjoon calls him again in the morning, and this time Jungkook cannot skirt around the truth. He hurriedly tells his friend of his findings, of the beautiful society that flourishes on Planet 43 Z-7, and the never-ending personalities he has the chance of encountering. There is an author fansign, you told him, of a book he thoroughly enjoyed taking place next week. There is a woman in town who can fix any technology sent her way. There is a group of children who pass by and sell you food, these flattened things called Girls Cout Cook Ease. There is so much to see and so much to learn that it has Jungkook unconsciously projecting his excitement via his under eye markings.

You come downstairs mid-call, smiley and ditzy. You were normally a bubbly person, but this much excitement can’t possibly be yours. It’s the sign Jungkook needs to settle down, but Namjoon offers him one too.

Much to his chagrin, he warns Jungkook against getting too comfortable, tells him to finish his operation and scram as quickly as possible. The Higher Sixamian Court does not take kindly to Sixamians becoming enamored with other planets, especially if they are as advanced as Jungkook claims them to be. He’s rushing out information, begging Jungkook to finish or abandon his mission, anything but stay too long, and before Jungkook can respond, their comms are abruptly shut off.

He’s left blankly staring at your coffee table, Namjoon’s caution ringing loudly in his ears.

After the effects of his accidental influence wear off on you, you shake yourself awake, confusedly glancing around the place before shrugging it off. “Morning,” you say, the same as ever, patting his head softly. Jungkook watches you begin your daily routine, the kettle running on the stove as you get to work preparing his hot cocoa.

For a moment he wonders what it’s like to be like this, to live like this. Free from the standards of Sixam as you go about your morning. There is no drive in you to conquer everyone, no overwhelming need to ‘fix’ those around you. You exist by yourself in this tiny house outside the city, like a moon always circling but never interacting. He knows you have your own circumstances that drove you here, issues where you suffered that same grueling past of people forcing ideas and beliefs upon you as Jungkook. But now you’re here, housing an extraterrestrial being such as himself without any payment.

He wants to be like you.

He wanders over towards the kitchen, returning your sleepy smile when you catch his gaze. Jungkook likes this. He enjoys seeing you in the morning, still trailed by the remnants of sleep, with skin tender to the touch. The smell of cocoa filling his nostrils, the chirp of the birds outside your window. He likes Smilodon and the mailman, and the woman half a mile from here who brought you peaches the other day.

Most importantly, Jungkook likes you.

Not as a breeding partner or convenient hostess, but as a person. Your laughter makes him feel warm inside, like he is genuinely appreciated as is. You’re gentle with your words, and even more so with your touch; hands pat his head, hold his arm when he stumbles too close to the garden.

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.

He wants to remain beside you.

It’s a little stuffy inside your house today, a problem you solve by cracking open the kitchen window. A nice breeze flows over the two of you, pushing the scent of the cocoa and your coffee his way. But a sweeter one follows, something thick and earthy that rolls off of you in waves. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, tries to ward off those sounds he heard from you just yesterday afternoon.

Those whiny sounds, airy whimpers that had drifted down from upstairs. A wet squelch that had registered a little too loudly to his superior ears. It had haunted him last night on the couch, made Jungkook twist and turn until the fuzzy image of you relieving yourself went away.

Jungkook wanted to help with that too. He wanted to put his hands and his mouth in places you needed him most, pleasure you like you deserved.

But how could he tell you all this and more? Did he even have the right as an invader to profess his infatuation to you? This Planet 43 Z-7, this Earth, was filled to the brim with interesting things, yet you remained at the very top of Jungkook’s list. He couldn’t leave, not now, but he couldn’t stay either. His entire presence in itself was a ploy to spread his seed, a fact you continued to be unaware of.

Namjoon’s words bounce around his brain, twist and wrap around him until he’s shakily reaching for his mug. He couldn’t stay here any longer under this false pretense. He couldn’t lie to you another day, another second more. He was tired of being a sheep. It’s with this conflicting resolve that he commands himself to confess this to you at once.

So he spills it all out to you.

From the complex history of the Sixamians to his assignment of this mission. You listen quietly as you munch through breakfast, nodding along to each new point he brings up that changes the story. He tells you about the population mission, about how he was sent here to spread his superior genes over the land, but how he’s let that sit on the back burner while you taught him all sorts of new things. If you are unimpressed with Jungkook and Sixam, you don’t show it.

“So you came to... breed?” you ask when he has finished, hands neatly folded on your lap. Breakfast is finished, plate scraped clean.

Jungkook nods shamefully. “I was asked to contribute to the reconstruction of Planet 43 Z-7,” he says, repeating the practiced reasoning every Sixamian has heard at least once in their life. But in front of you, it makes him cringe.

The grandfather clock in the hallway clicks along quietly, the soundtrack to Jungkook’s desperate read of you. Your eyes are focused on the plate before you, lost in thought at the abundance of information he has just thrown on you. He could easily switch his influential abilities back on, brighten your mood like he has been taught to do with countless other species since the beginning of time. But it feels wrong to subject you to that, to strip you of your emotions, even if it would save him the discomfort.

Instead he sits in silence.

Jungkook waits patiently, even though every fiber in his being is telling him to get up and make a run for it. Escape before he can see a look of disgust aimed his way. But he has come to value your opinions as equal to his, and the thought of leaving you by yourself does not sit well with him. So he waits.

It takes a few minutes of contemplation before you grace him with an answer, nervously rubbing your hands over your thighs. “I understand, Jungkook,” you exhale tightly. “But I don’t think I’m the partner you are looking for.”

“No! I was not— It was not my intention,” he stammers, waving his hands all over the place in his hurry to explain. He sucks in a sharp breath. “I do not wish to force such a burden on you, __,” he manages, “I would not do that to you.”

He is about to pat himself on the back for his save, when suddenly the corners of your lips take a sharp drop. “Oh, I see,” you mutter, arms self consciously wrapping around your frame. “So you don’t see me as a suitable partner?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your drawn conclusion. “No,” he chokes, and your frown deepens. “I mean, yes, I do see you as a viable partner to engage in reproductive activities,” and now he’s spiraling, the surprised look on your face only fueling his pea-brained ramblings, “I just—I assumed you did not enjoy that?

His excuse sounds so unbelievably weak even to his own ears.

“What made you think that?” you ask. At the rate this conversation is going, Jungkook fears his brain will soon fry itself out.

His mind is a spinning mess, like the inside of a vacuum that rumbles and turns with each new thought that enters. What was he supposed to say? That he’s heard you in your most intimate moments, moments where you hid from him? Or that he’s done countless scans on your body when you weren’t looking and came to the same result every time; that result being that you have never been touched by another before? And what was he supposed to draw from these conclusions if not that you abhorred such intimacy?

“I-I heard… you,” Jungkook admits quietly. “And, I felt your emotions. They were nervous.” He does not need his thermal detector to feel the heat that floods your face. “I did not want to impose on such a fragile moment,” he continues. “And I apologize if my actions have made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” you wave off, pressing the back of your knuckles to your cheeks. “I apologize for doing something so inappropriate with you in my house.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Do you not enjoy participating in sexual activities, __?” he asks curiously.

You gulp loudly, obviously startled by his question. Which part of it, Jungkook doesn’t know. He nudges your knee with his, urging you to answer. A shaky exhale, and then you’re rambling. “I-No, I do,” you rush out, avidly avoiding his gaze. “I, um, I just have never, uh, been with anyone.”

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Is that why your reproductive areas are strangely well preserved for a being your age? I was beginning to wonder about the complexities of Human reproduction after meeting you, __. Is there a certain tradition one must follow to copulate with you?”

“No, no,” you rush to correct. Jungkook has obviously said something that upset you, because when you speak again your aura is tainted with the hints of irritation. “Tradition is stupid,” you explain slowly, a sense of heartache consuming him at your rather lonely figure. He is beside you, yet feels a thousand light years away from your heart. “I was just a fool.”

His gaze softens, carefully placing a hand on your knee comfortingly. He doesn’t have to say anything more, just let you know he isn’t far at all, and you understand. You lean against his shoulder, the same sad look in your eyes. The grandfather clock ticks on in the hallway, in sync with the slow rhythm of your heart. Jungkook places a kiss to the crown of your head.

The day drags on.

Your morning chores are finished quickly with Jungkook at your side. He obsesses over the plants and plays with Smilodon. You make apple juice today with the fruits that fall from the tree out front. Jungkook enjoys it, but not as much as lemonade. Still, it gets its own entry in his log.

He asks more questions about your world, straying away from the ones he had last week that seemed to exclusively revolve around the fauna and flora. Now, he is interested in your Human way of life. The TV confuses him, and he doesn’t quite understand the difference between dramas and news stations. So you explain as best you can for him.

His main issue lies in his inability to comprehend the constant strife within your planet, especially when you explain to him topics like poverty or homelessness. Sixam is nothing like Earth, he says, because everyone on Sixam is looked after and taken care of as deemed appropriate. There is no division of classes because deep down, every Sixamian acknowledges they are superior to the rest of the universe. It sounds like a utopia to you, but you’ve read enough books to know how those usually turn out.

That fact intrigues Jungkook as well. How Humans can be aware of so many altering concepts and beliefs, yet desensitized to all. He doesn’t get it, and explaining the concept of fiction existing on a separate plane only confuses him more.

Eventually you bring it back to tradition, somehow, that dreaded word you’ve come to abhor. Jungkook enjoys learning about your culture and your way of life, little things you do here and there. But as most things do in your life, the conversation circles back around to your failed marriage.

“Ah,” Jungkook says. “So it is tradition to save your first reproductive act for the one you ‘marry’?” You nod, toes tucked up into the couch. It’s a little before sunset now, the orange hue of the outdoors leaking into your living room. “And then you take their last name? That is very confusing, __. I thought this last name identified you to your fellow Human, how can you so easily change it around?”

You laugh. “It's complicated,” you offer. Jungkook chuckles as well, obviously overwhelmed with all the new information you provided him with today.

Jungkook nods pensively but you doubt he understands. “I see,” he mumbles, fingertip tapping against the armrest he’s leaning against. It’s a tell tale sign that he desperately wants to document what you’ve said in his supercomputer bracelet but is holding back for the sake of this moment. You think it’s rather sweet. “So copulation does not always secure you a partner.”

You shrug halfheartedly. “People have different drives,” you say. “Some of them want love and some just want sex.”

“And you?” he asks suddenly, big purple eyes swirling with entire galaxies. “What would you like?”

A lot of things, you think, but when it comes down to it, when Jungkook asks you with his pretty eyes and pouty lips, you can’t find the right words. “Both,” is your measly reply. “What about you?”

He seems just as thrown off by your question as you, eyes widening as he leans back. The living room is bathed in warm splashes of color, the last of the sun’s rays painting Jungkook in a rather romantic light. You can’t look away. “I too would like both,” he admits, idly tracing the tip of his finger along the markings that decorate the tops of his knees. “This notion of attraction beyond the physical realm is not common in Sixam,” he answers. “Sixam is very… strict about what a relationship entails.

You set your mug down on the side table, shuffling around until your toes poke his hip, arm thrown over the back of the couch. “How so?” you ask.

Jungkook’s lips push out into a frown. “The Higher Sixamian Court has long since ruled that mating rituals between citizens are strictly limited to those that will produce the most immaculate genome,” he says, as if that is just another simple, everyday fact of life. It is for him, but not for you.

“So, are you like… assigned?” you press, suddenly wondering how a being as curious and sentimental as Jungkook has survived so long in a place like Sixam. “And like, do you raise kids together?”

“Until the end of their first era,” Jungkook supplies, as if that makes the slightest bit of sense. “And sort of. Sixam is not that oppressive,” he jokes, but there is something about his eyes missing their usual glow that tips you off. “I have yet to copulate for reproductive purposes.”

You pause. “But you have for… fun purposes?”

Jungkook looks at you seriously. And then, ever so slowly, the little marks beneath the corners of his eyes, the little triangles that usually flare blue, fade into a lovely pink shade. “I-“ he stammers, obviously flustered by your question. “I have.”

Your mouth parts into a little o. “With other Sixamians? Or….” Jungkook flushes, nods meekly. His expression seems off, like it isn’t a particular fond memory he carries. “Was it bad or something?”

He sighs. “It is… very lacking. Nothing like the scenes depicted in your projection box.” He nods towards the TV, you barely contain a giggle at its name. You reach for your mug instead. “There is no,” he waves a hand in front of his face. The last rays of sun catch on his hand and turn his charcoal markings a pretty gold. “No expressions of adoration beyond what is necessary. And I do not particularly enjoy that.”

You nod understandingly. “You're soft,” you tease, watch his little triangles light up again at your words. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “so am I.”

He says nothing, just stares blankly out the front window as the sun disappears behind the horizons, leaving thousands of glittering lights in its wake. Not man made but natural; right. “I think your last name is lovely,” he suddenly announces. You chuckle against the lip of your mug, but Jungkook doesn’t find it amusing. He turns to you with that sparkling purple gaze, like you’ve hung those stars outside yourself. “There is no other __ ___ like you.”

Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from the coffee steam rising from the mug or Jungkook’s unexpected reassurance. It makes your heart tender, sends a shock through your system that leaves your body buzzing. “Thank you,” you say sincerely, covering the palm he rests over the couch with yours.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to.

Ovulation ends, but your blossoming feelings for Jungkook do not go away.

The next morning his comms remain shut off. Jungkook has never had his communications back home cut off, save for the time in his first era where he brashly spoke out against his superior in a lab. He was young and had much to learn, took too many risks and didn’t consider the consequences. He guesses he hasn’t grown much since then as he watches you tend to your garden.

“Smilodon urinated in the closet,” he announces, witnessing the smile slowly slip off your features. He lets you revel in your annoyance for exactly two seconds before following with the phrase he heard on your box the other day. “Just kidding! You are being prank’d.

Your frown is nothing like the expression the program’s contests exhibited following their supposed pranking. “Jungkook, that’s not funny,” you huff and his heart sinks. A soft snort. “Okay, maybe a little,” you concede with a terribly contained smile.

He bounds over, kneels down beside you, and begins pulling the overgrown weeds out with you. “I saw it on the projection box the other day,” he explains excitedly, tossing the weeds into the bag between you two. “I did not know such pleasure could be received from silly broadcasts like that.” You nod, say something about all kinds of dumb shows existing before a pout taints your lips. “What's wrong?”

A long sigh from you. “I think the sun isn’t reaching these,” you tell him, lifting the stem of a sad looking tomato plant. It’s the closest one to the house, often covered by the house’s shadow when the sun shines best. “They’re sad.”

He tilts his head to the side quizzically. “Sad?” he repeats, reaching for his wristband before he can stop to think. If his extensive journaling reads right, your planet’s vegetation follows similar patterns to that of another’s, requiring allotted amounts of sunlight and water to flourish. “How can it be sad?”

Caught up in his notes, he doesn’t realize you’ve migrated to the other side of the garden now, dutifully picking out more weeds. “Well, it looks sad doesn’t it?” Jungkook glances back again. The tomato stalk is significantly droopy and malformed, smaller than its brethren who sit only a few inches away in direct sunlight. It’s colors are dulled and almost… sad. Huh. How peculiar.

He chances one glance back at you, deems you far enough, and then channels the entirety of his energy towards the tomato plant. It wiggles a few times, kind of like it’s dancing, before you’re calling his name from the other side. “What’re you doing?” you ask, hand on your hip. Jungkook stills.

“Um,” he drawls. The plant returns to its sulky state.

Garbage bag full of weeds, you pass by him with a shake of your head. “Don’t do anything weird to my plants, silly,” you chide. Jungkook huffs, follows behind to take the bag off your hands. You thank him, join him for his walk around the house until he tosses the bag into the garbage can out front. Before he can retort and engage you in a playful argument regarding his superior abilities, you’re crouching down by the spigot out front. It’s making a weird hissing noise that has Jungkook frowning as he walks over.

Right as he approaches, you make the amateur mistake of turning the handle, water spewing out from the gap between the spigot’s mouth and where it’s supposed to meet the hose. You screech, and Jungkook can’t shut it off fast enough.

In the end, both of you are drenched.

“Ugh,” you groan as you walk around the house to the unlocked back door. Jungkook trudges behind, just a teensy bit annoyed by the mud that quickly stains his rubber sandals. “This is so annoying!” you complain loudly, shaking yourself off like Smilodon when it accidentally fell into the sink the other day. “Ruined my day.”

At that Jungkook frowns. He does not want your day to be ruined, especially not by some faulty spigot outside. You were too good for such emotions, too perfect in his eyes. Sadness and the like did not suit you; they had no place ruining your beautiful features. You’re huffily patting yourself down at the back porch now, distress prominent on your features as you most likely consider the second load of laundry you will have to do today.

The tomato stalk glances at him sadly from the ground, and before Jungkook can stop himself, he’s breathing in deeply and pushing his generally relaxed attitude onto you. You can be mad later, but right now Jungkook doesn’t want to see you sad. It’s effective immediately, your gloominess quickly fading away. You breathe in deeply, eyes falling shut, and when you open them again you’re offering him the most gentle smile he has ever seen.

And a soaked through shirt that highlights the shape of your red undergarments. Jungkook’s eyes widen, unconsciously flicking down to the sight you present him with, and a different emotion floods his senses.

It’s quite possibly his biggest mistake. Because while he can easily look away, it takes longer for those emotions to fade, and soon they’re being reflected on you.

“Wow,” you exhale, shaking your head in confusion because these aren’t your emotions— you probably know they’re his. Jungkook feels terrible instantly.

“I’m sorry,” he rushes out, scrambling up the steps to guide you inside. Simultaneously, he’s shutting down his influential abilities, scolding himself for slipping up with you like this. You most certainly did not want to feel this way around Jungkook, yet here he was quite literally projecting onto you. “Please, let’s go inside.”

You nod, jolt when his hand touches the small of your back as he guides you in. “Oh,” you gasp, and Jungkook has to bite his lip to force himself from making the situation worse, from thinking thoughts you would not approve of. “Why— what's happening?” you ask in a breathy tone, lingering by the staircase Jungkook tries to push you up.

He sighs. “I— I was trying to brighten your mood,” he admits, metaphorical ears pressed against his head like when Smilodon gets scolded for knocking down a plant. “And, um. There was— the, um, sight of your undergarments distracted me for a moment.” You glance down and seemingly become aware for the first time that your bright red bra is on display, shyly covering yourself with your arms.

“Distracted?” you mumble softly, leaning against the banister of the stairs. Your skin is radiating more heat than Jungkook ever recalls, face demurely turned down towards the floor. He could have sworn he stopped projecting minutes again— why were you still behaving like this? Did he break you? Did he exude more energy than he meant to, accidentally extend the length of the emotions? “I’ll go upstairs now,” you announce quietly, touch his arm almost sensually as you pass by.

Your skin is warm, that heavenly scent that Jungkook craved rolling off in waves— but he was certain he’d stopped himself before anything became too overwhelming. Were his emotions stronger than he had fooled himself into believing? There was no way he had felt or looked as riled up when he accidentally influenced you. So where exactly were these emotions coming from? What exactly was making you behave this way even after he’d withdrawn his influence? Could it be...

Jungkook watches with wide eyes, almost certain that your behavior, though sparked by his initial slip up, was entirely your own at this point.

There was a lot of weight behind that.

The water turns on upstairs, and he has to strain his ears, still his breathing, just for a hint of your sounds. But they’re there, quiet successors to the louder moans you’d let out the other day. They make him shiver, melt against the staircase as his cock twitches in his pants. His body comes alive, something distinctly carnal twitching beneath his skin, blossoming out at the base of his spine.

And still, as he grinds his hand into his palm, it is not merely the sight of your red undergarments that render Jungkook useless. No, the ghost of your smile at his poorly executed prank follows, brands itself into the inside of his eyelids as he slowly falls apart.

Was it your own emotions that had made you like that? he wonders, sinking to his knees in the hallway. If you came down right now, you’d certainly catch him. But Jungkook can still hear your muffled cries from upstairs, and furthermore, Jungkook wanted desperately for you to catch him. He knows you won’t, but the idea makes him shiver, has him coming in his bottoms shamefully.

“What the,” he huffs, sweat trailing down his forehead. His brain replays that look in your eyes. That emotion you displayed that, although it may have been planted by him, was taken by you and magnified. Had you been just as excited by the sight of Jungkook’s wet body as he had yours? And if such was the case, was your attraction to him limited to the physical realm?

He doesn’t want to delude himself, but your words from the other day ring loudly in his ears. Soft, you had called him, for wanting something both physically and emotionally intimate. But you were the same, or so you claimed.

Was it so wrong for Jungkook to think that ideology applied now?

That night you join Jungkook outside for his routine stargazing. He sits on the porch while you sit on your rocking chair, mugs of hot cocoa in hand as Jungkook retells his adventures across the universe.

Space is bigger than you thought, with a culture far more complex than Earth’s. It makes you wonder how Jungkook, who has quite literally seen it all, can become so enamored with this place. There’s bigger and better somewhere out there; planets that won’t force terrible traditions on him or task him into ungodly missions. Yet he lingers here, in this quiet space between your garden and your house, head on your lap.

His hair is soft, almost like silk, and he enjoys having it touched. “I do not wish to leave,” he admits quietly, empty mug long since set aside. You hum, encourage him to elaborate. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7.”

You snort. “No way,” you say, trace your hand down his jawline. Jungkook says nothing of your wandering hands, skin warm to the touch. Some of his markings decorate his neck, curl around the pale skin in perfectly symmetrical swoops. They creep beneath the hem of his shirt, and you wonder what they look like down there.

You flush those thoughts away, that afternoon’s events still fresh in your mind. From your understanding of the events, Jungkook had been excited at the sight of your body, so he obviously had to hold some attraction towards you. But how much of that was purely physical and how much was emotional?

“I want to have your last name,” he announces suddenly. You choke, breath caught in your throat from the randomness of the statement. Your reaction makes Jungkook pull away from your touch, stare at you with wide eyes like you do him.

“I— what?” you stammer, having gained back your composure. Or at least some of it. “Jungkook, I don’t think you know what that means.”

He frowns, shuffles around until he’s facing you, and lays his head across your lap again. This time, those purple eyes that dance with nebulas and stardust zero in on you. His hair tickles your bare thighs, makes you unconsciously press them together when his warm breath fans across your skin. “You amaze me,” he murmurs, eyes glazed. “I have never seen a being like you, who lives so far off from society, thrive in their own bubble— is it too much for me to want to live like you? Be with you?”

“Huh?” you ask, ever so eloquently.

Jungkook smiles, turns his face to hide it against you. Pink lips brush against your skin, your hands unconsciously shooting into his hair to guide him away. When his head rolls back, he’s got this rather melancholy look on his face. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7,” he says again, “and I am looking right at her.”

Your face burns.

Heart hammering in your chest, palms sweaty, you don’t know what to say. He looks at you with that vibrant gaze, drinks you in like you’re the finest of wines and your heart absolutely cannot handle it. Your brain fumbles for a response but by then Jungkook is standing up, head tilted downwards cutely as he observes you. One hand in his, thumb gently swiping over your knuckles. “I would like to show you every expression of adoration possible, __,” he murmurs, presses a kiss to your knuckles before disappearing back inside.

You stay outside, turning his words inside and out, backwards and forwards, until you deduce that Jungkook of Sixam most definitely harbored the same feelings for you as you did for him. It’s odd, because it is exactly what you want but the idea scares you to death. The last time you let a man into your life under a similar guise you ended up wasting years of your life, clinging to this grand finale you never got. And now this foreign being was proclaiming his feelings for you, possibly propositioning you for the same thing.

Did you want Jungkook? Yes, undoubtedly yes. He was free from the shackles of tradition that had held you down so long, didn’t believe in this twisted notion of your body being “sacred.” He was a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone you’ve ever met before (although part of that was due to his alien heritage).

However, he was not free of flaws, and perhaps that is what entices you more.

Jungkook, though he looked and spoke like the perfect man, was a being of his own, with struggles of his own. He too had his own handful of painful memories, toxic ideologies that followed him around. But Jungkook was willing to learn, to change. And you admired him for it.

Tip-toeing back inside, you find the house shrouded in darkness. The steady tick of the grandfather clock lessens the rapid beating of your heart. Jungkook is sitting on the living room couch, legs pulled to his chest. Muscle memory has you reaching out for the top of his head like always, ready to pat his fluffy hair as if you hadn’t just spent the last twenty minutes outside doing just that. He turns around just as your fingers touch his soft strands, purple eyes meeting yours. You trace your hand down the side of his face, knuckles brushing over his cheekbones; he puckers his lips, bestows a second tender smooch against you.

“I like when you do that,” he says, voice unexpectedly loud in the otherwise silent house. As he speaks, he shifts to the side, arm thrown over the back of the couch to look at you completely. You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip and he gulps. “Makes me crazy.”

You chuckle, releasing him to round the couch. Jungkook’s got this sweet smile on his face, hand outstretched for you. When you take it, he tugs you onto the couch, flush beside him. Your thigh is practically thrown over his, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. You heart flutters and you can no longer look him in the eye.

But that’s okay because Jungkook can. He ducks down, dark hair tickling your skin as his breath ghosts over your lips. “May I?” he asks softly, nose bumping against yours. “May I have the honor of pleasuring you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, answering with a tiny nod that makes his lower lip brush against yours teasingly. “I-If I am suitable,” you mumble, tingles spreading all over your body.

Jungkook smiles, pretty and bright, as he turns his head to slot your mouths together. “No,” he says, “if I am suitable. You are more than enough.” Lips brush against yours, shaky breath meets yours, and then he’s kissing you. Slow yet suave, carefully molding against you as if he is afraid of breaking you. His lips are like two soft pillows, moving against yours in a practiced rhythm that makes you tremble against him. Every bit the measly virgin, but Jungkook likes you just so.

He pulls away with a pop, his figure shadowed by the darkness of the room. But his eyes, purple irises, glow brightly. Like two pools of cosmic dust swirling around his dark pupils. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this before, but you hardly saw Jungkook in the dark anyway. He hides them too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in again.

The second time, there’s a faint flick of his tongue against your bottom lip. The action makes you gasp quietly, lips parting for a fraction of a second. But Jungkook is quick, slips his tongue past your lips. It’s lewd; his breath mingles with yours, tongue pushing against yours. Slick and dirty, spit traveling between your two mouths, but Jungkook makes sure you’re okay, sinfully wrapping his lips around your tongue when you get too brave. A moan escapes you, fingers squeezing around his.

Jungkook squeezes back, pushes forward until you’re pressed against the back cushions of the couch. “This okay?” he husks, low-lidded eyes meeting yours when he pulls away. You nod, words caught in your throat. Jungkook’s gaze lasers in on your mouth, and he seems to have an internal debate before eventually pulling away to kiss your neck.

You tilt your head back, choppy exhales creeping out from between your lips as he kisses down the column of your neck, untangling his hand from yours to press against your hip instead. It’s with a devastatingly slow speed that he eventually slinks away, finds himself kneeling between you on the floor with hands dancing over the tops of your thighs. Your heart is beating a thousand miles in your chest, threatening to rip itself right out when he meets your eyes a second time.

He pushes your legs apart, not once looking away as he gently encourages you to raise one. Lips pressed against your knee, slowly trailing down the skin of your thigh. Your hand squeezes at the couch cushions. Jungkook pulls a startled yelp from you when he tugs at the backs of your knees, makes you slump down the couch with your legs perfectly spread out for him, feet flat on the floor. Then he’s back to kissing you, languidly pressing smooch after smooch against your scorching skin until he’s reaching the apex of your thighs, stilling once to look your way.

“Go ahead,” you choke out, hands clutched over your chest, as if that’ll keep your heart from up and running away. Jungkook takes your admission and moves on, puckered lips meeting your mound through your clothing. It’s the first time you’ve ever had someone else so close to your most sensitive areas, and rightly so, you whimper.

“Shh,” he soothes, thumb pressing against your hip as he carefully hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. You’re quivering like a leaf, lower lip bitten raw between your teeth as you watch him move between your legs. “I don’t wish to hurt you,” Jungkook murmurs.

Another press of his mouth against you, this time right over where your bud hides, and the sensation makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your shorts, take your underwear with them when he begins pulling them down your hips. You push yourself up briefly, let him slide them down your legs and bare yourself to him for the first time.

Your cheeks flood with warmth, hands unconsciously reaching to pull your shirt down, but Jungkook catches you. Fingers tangle with yours, warm breath fanning over your slick folds. Unconsciously, you tense up at his proximity, the stark realization that this was the moment you had waited for for a good chunk of your life suddenly hitting you. Jungkook seems to notice you crawl inside your head, drawing you back with a squeeze around your hand, luminous eyes meeting yours.

“If you need me to stop, I will,” he reassures you.

The blood is rushing to your ears, his words nearly lost in the madness. “Aren’t you scared?” you ask quietly, voice wobbly, holding his hands so tightly you’re surprised he doesn’t complain.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No,” he answers. “Would you like to know how I feel?”

Hesitantly, you nod. Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, but the little triangle markings beneath his eyes begin to glow. Like fireflies in the dark, two little lights that intensify as he exhales.

And then, suddenly, you’re flooded with a new wave of emotions, similar to yours but not. They feel like yours, but are distinctly his, make you arch against the cushions with a soft groan.

At the forefront, lust that swarms your senses and makes your body melt into the couch beneath you. It makes you shiver, nipples peaked beneath your top as his feelings and their intensity grow on you. It feels like drowning, like swallowing a thick and sticky substance that lingers in your throat and refuses to go away. It’s how he feels about you at this moment, so strongly it could drown him.

So overwhelmed with that sensation alone, you almost don’t recognize the second emotion that Jungkook takes and pours into you.

Warm and comforting, like being embraced by a thousand doves, kissed by a swarm of butterflies. It’s different from the first, doesn’t tap directly into your physical body, but wraps around your heart, creeps into your thoughts. Until you’re rolling your eyes back open and meeting his, the feeling so plainly spelled out across his features.

Sheer and utter adoration.

“Oh,” you breathe, face scorching to the touch following the emotions Jungkook’s just revealed to you.

He grins, shy, and squeezes your hand. “What do you want to do?”

Biting your lip, you take initiative and hook your knee over his shoulder, the same way he had shown you just moments prior. “Please,” you murmur, “show me more.”

And Jungkook does.

A soft kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose running along your skin teasingly. And then he’s faced with your puffy lips, pink skin slick with arousal. Jungkook sighs softly, tilts his head as if he’s analyzing his next course of action, and then carefully places his mouth against you.

“Mmmh,” you whimper, hips instinctively bucking into the touch, never having felt such intense pleasure before. Jungkook doesn’t mind as he languidly kisses your folds, eyes shut as he loses himself in the motions. The first swipe of his tongue makes you twitch, arms flailing but Jungkook holds them down, entwined fingers pressed against the couch.

His tongue is an entity of its own, wet muscle pressing and licking at your most sensitive areas like it was made specifically for this. Never mind talking, Jungkook’s tongue was made to lap at your pussy like this. He licks a long stripe up from your quivering hole to your engorged clit, curling at the end as if you were nothing more but a sweet for him to mindlessly play with.

Your muscles clench up, the leg thrown around his shoulder unconsciously pulling him closer until his nose is pressed flush against your clit. Jungkook breathes in deeply, moans softly but it sends earth-shattering vibrations up your core until you’re a whimpering mess. “O-Oh,” you cry, sweat clinging to your skin as Jungkook continues lapping at your folds.

He releases one hand, uses it to push your other leg further away to properly slot himself against you. You take the opportunity to wildly reach for him, grabby hands lost in the silky waves on his head as you urge him closer to where you need him most. You’re not even sure where that is anymore, your clit or your entrance, but Jungkook switches between the two just fine.

That warm tongue prods at your entrance, tip sinking inside just enough to make you gasp. It’s a new experience for you, someone’s tongue touching and stroking you there, and it feels like an entirely new door opens from that action alone. You whimper his name, dig your nails across his scalp like maybe he’ll grant you a reprieve and pull away. But you don’t really want that, and so you’re happy when he stays where he is.

The hand that had rested against the juncture of your hip glides up, lays flat over your mound with his thumb idly swirling around your clit. The combination of his tongue breaching your hole and his fingers playing along your clit makes you spasm. “Wait,” you sob, the muscles in your thighs twitching as he licks away. “I-I’m gonna—“

An overpowering wave of relief floods your senses shortly before that last syllable can escape your lips; everything goes tight and then suddenly you’re on a cloud, cum spilling from your heat and onto his waiting tongue. Jungkook licks it all up, slurps loudly against your clit as the last waves of your orgasm run their course. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing up your navel, t-shirt pushed away as he goes.

When he reaches your face, you’re quite embarrassed to find the area around his mouth to be glistening with your juices. “You’re incredible,” he says, easygoing smile on his lips. But there’s something hard and heavy against you, snuggled between your thighs, that makes your face heat up all over again.

You can’t find the words to respond, and lose the opportunity when Jungkook captures your lips with his again. He’s more assertive this time around, roughly pushing against you until you’re certain you’ll bruise. But it feels good, makes you wrap your hands around him as Jungkook grinds down against you. When he pulls away, he’s got this dark look on his face, out of place against such bright eyes.

He says nothing as his hands creep up your waist, push your t-shirt and bra out of the way, until he’s cupping your breasts in his palms. Experienced hands massage them thoroughly, roll the soft skin between his fingers. His mouth is against yours again, tongues pressed together; Jungkook groans and the sound shoots straight between your thighs. He pinches a nipple between his fingers and you whimper, break away from his kiss to hide your face against his shoulder.

His cock is heavy against your folds, the thick material of his pants slowly stimulating you again. The cotton brushes against you, most certainly picks up your wetness as it goes, and Jungkook lets it as he continues to grind down against you with his hands on your tits. Your hands tear their way down his back, fist the material of his shirt in your hands. “Off, off,” you plead, desperate to feel more of him against you.

Jungkook complies, sitting up to yank his shirt over his head. You were right about his markings, dark swoops and circles that decorate his chest and abdomen before tapering down around his waist. Your mouth salivates at the sight, blindly reaching for your own clothes as if one look away will make him disappear.

He doesn’t.

In fact, the removal of both your tops only makes Jungkook hungrier, completely abandoning your lips to suck your breast into his mouth instead. “Jungk— fuck,” you wail, slipping further down the couch as you lose yourself in Jungkook’s embrace. His teeth nibble at your swollen bud, roll the sensitive skin around before pulling off with a wet pop.

Your breath jumps when he reaches behind you, corded arm locking around your waist as he repositions the two of you, unsatisfied with the previous position. He lifts you up with his undoubtedly superior strength, one palm beneath your thigh as he plops you down across the couch more comfortably, head neatly resting on a throw pillow.

Your heart is in your throat, desperate to memorize the man before you, inked skin, lean and meaty, vibrant violet eyes that focus solely on you. Before he can join you on the couch, Jungkook steps away, tucks his thumbs into his waistband and swiftly removes them. His engorged cock, bigger than any you’ve seen in any erotic video— and that was saying a lot —springs up against his navel, flaming tip glaring right at you. Your pussy quivers at the sight.

“Come here,” he husks out as he moves towards you. You welcome him with open arms, a soft groan of his name against his lips as he shoves his tongue past. His hands are everywhere now; one squeezes at your breast, hand molded to the flesh, while the other runs along the underside of your thigh, guides it over his waist. And another tickles around your navel, soft—

You shriek, eyes snapping open as you tug Jungkook over you as a shield. “What was that?” you heave, wide eyes roving over the dark living room, like maybe you’ll find Smilodon traversing the carpet and it was his silky tail that came too close.

But Smilodon doesn’t usually appear at night, nor is there anything else in the living room with you and Jungkook. Your heart hammers in your chest, carefully meeting his dark gaze until something thin and distinctively alive appears over his shoulder. Another scream tears itself from your lips.

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook shushes, pulls away to cup your face in his hands. “Forgive me,” he says tenderly, “we are so similar, I forget you do not possess extra arms.”

You pale. “E-Extra arms?” you choke, eyes focused on the thin ‘arm’ that slinks out from behind Jungkook, almost screeching again when a second one appears on the opposite side. And then a third, a fourth.

It is no arm, but rather… a tentacle? Sans the weird suction cups. They’re thin little things, no thicker than his wrist, that dance behind him as if they have a mind of their own. They move as if suspended in water, soft lilac skin tenderly touching yours. You shiver, its smooth skin odd against your supple flesh. Jungkook relaxes, but draws them back anyway. “Forgive me,” he says again, taking your hand in his to press a peck against it. Your heart flutters at the gesture that was slowly driving you insane. “I shall keep them at bay.”

You nod shakily, but cannot deny the curiosity that picks at you when they slink back into the base of his spine, blend seamlessly against his skin. “What… what do they do?” you ask tentatively.

Jungkook hums as he descends upon you, featherlight kisses against your shoulder and up your neck. “Hmm? They help me out,” he explains mindlessly, pulling you flush against his cock again. A moan tears itself from your throat, eyes fluttering shut as you force yourself to focus on the moment again.

But your hands unconsciously wander down his spine as he kisses you, circle the skin where your swear they had to have disappeared beneath, until Jungkook is pulling away with a confused expression on his face. “Would you like to see them again?” he asks quizzically, sweat forming along his hairline.

You cannot play it off any longer; meekly, you nod. “I— they were interesting,” you admit in a quiet voice, nervously twiddling your fingers over your chest.

Jungkook says nothing for a second, until he’s lightly chuckling and pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Okay,” he concedes, and goes back to rolling his hips against yours.

About to protest, the words are robbed from your throat when something soft and blunt tickles your thigh. “Oh,” you shudder, prevailing through the initial shock as Jungkook’s ‘arm’ slides around the diameter of your thigh to brush against your cunt. It’s silky and smooth, pushes against your lips until it’s emerging past them, slipping inside of you.

You gasp, head lolling backwards as the sensation gets to you. It feels the same as your fingers do when you’re in the shower, but it moves differently, gauging your reactions as it curls within your walls. Jungkook muffles a low chuckle against your chin, kisses spread over you until his tongue is back down your throat.

“Feels good?” he asks, hot mouth against yours. You nod jerkily, hands digging into his biceps. Another appendage tickles around your waist, dips into your navel and makes you giggle. It’s a sound that’s frankly out of place amongst your moans and whimpers, but it makes Jungkook smile. It eventually moves away, continuing its soft caresses elsewhere.

The one that plays in your pussy has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, jaw slack. Perfect for Jungkook who pushes and prods until his saliva is dripping down your throat, catching in the corners of your lips. It impossibly fattens inside of you, makes you choke just as a different one dances around your neck. “I— I,” you stutter, boneless beneath him as the soft tip traces around the column of your neck tenderly, lovingly.

There’s so many different areas to focus on: one rubs comfortingly beneath your breast, while another fucks into your cunt. The contrast has your head spinning, unsure of where to look.

There’s something about the one inside of you that makes you feel so sticky and wet, more so than before. Like it’s oozing something out, making the glide against your walls smoother than before. It makes your body tingle, sends a feeling down your spine that you’re almost certain isn’t normal.

At the same time, there’s a brush along your thigh again, a tight coil around the flesh of your skin tightly that encourages your legs apart. More room for Jungkook to squeeze in. It wraps around you, slithers past its sibling and prods against your ass. Your heart skips a beat, buck into Jungkook’s embrace as it slips between your cheeks— you gasp. It releases that same substance that makes everything so wet. You tremble at the touch, body already so overwhelmed.

Your attention is snatched away before anything can happen, Jungkook tugging you closer until the ridges of his cock are running along your folds, each push sending his goddamn tentacle deeper inside of you. You moan, hands shakily traversing his skin until you’re cupping his face in your palms. “More,” you hoarsely whisper, dazed eyes meeting his. “Please.”

Jungkook nods, presses one more kiss against your lips before shuffling around. The appendage inside of you swiftly recoils, has you shivering from the way it slips out of you so easily. As it finally emerges from your folds, you find it’s slick with cum and something slightly pink, sparkly and wet as if it’s got precum of its own. The sight amazes you, makes you want to touch it. Before you can, it’s moving again. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t go away, doesn’t return to hide within Jungkook’s body, but wraps around his cock tightly. Purple tendril against engorged skin, makes him sigh at the squeeze.

He holds the base of his cock, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as he regards you with an unrecognizable look. One hand on your thigh, fingers gripping tightly even before he’s done anything. “Tell me you want this,” he exhales, “please?”

You nod hurriedly, hands reaching for his hips to urge him closer. “Want this,” you assure him, quiver when the head of his cock presses against your folds. Bigger than your fingers, bigger than that damned appendage, and it was going inside of you. “Want this so bad,” you whimper, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. A squeeze around your breasts, a flick against your nipples. It’s not Jungkook’s hands, and that fact makes you shiver.

They curl around your breasts, frame the mounds gently before the flatted tips meet your nipples, tease them with featherlight nudge.

Eased by the certainty of your words, Jungkook relaxes. He places a hand on your hip, the other still holding his cock as he lines himself up with your throbbing entrance. You’re so wet, dripping in your own cum and whatever that tentacle released, thighs slippery and shiny. The anticipation in your chest swells, pushes against your rib cage until you’re afraid it’ll break. The little markings beneath his eyes flash and suddenly it’s gone, replaced with a sense of comfort that only doubles when he flashes you a tiny smile.

The first press of his cock makes your back arch, has you knocking every throw pillow off the couch as he slowly eases his way in. “Oh god—“ you sob, the sudden intrusion being questioned by every muscle in your body. Immediately, two of his tentacles snap forward, release their soft grip on your neck and their wrap around your breasts to caress up your sides, smooth ends practically kissing your skin with their soft nudges.

They by no means lessen the pain, but their butterfly touches are a nice distraction that tickles your skin, makes you whimper softly as Jungkook slowly sinks into you.

Jungkook ducks over you, tip of his nose against yours. “Breathe for me,” he instructs, even though his breath is labored against yours. One appendage cups your cheek, curls softly around your ear to hold your head still— you feel so spoiled with all the attention. You make an effort, breathe in swiftly through your nose as Jungkook pushes in deeper.

Slowly, the discomfort fades away. It melts and in its wake you’re left with a dull numbing sensation that starts in your toes and magnifies as it reaches your ears. It grows until the weight of his cock inside of you has you drooling, eyes unfocused as you watch Jungkook push himself to the hilt, the ridges of the tentacle wrapped around his cock making you jolt with every push.

At the same time as his cock thrusts inside of you, a sneaky little thing continues it’s dance between your cheeks, pokes and kisses at your hole like it’s testing you. It is, really, because you've never had anything up your ass before— up until a few moments ago, you had barely had anything in your pussy.

This was your first time, yet two seperate holes were begging to be filled, clenching tightly at Jungkook kisses along your chest, hands wound beneath the small of your back. The playful tentacle near your behind does just that— plays until you gently reach back for it, trembling hands giving it the go ahead it needs to finally plunge itself within you. Like an excited little being, it flutters against your hand a soft, kiss-like press against your palm before returning to its favored spot.

It chooses the perfect moment to press in, takes advantage of Jungkook’s first few slow thrusts to slip its way inside. A loud moan tears itself from your throat, and Jungkook joins along. “I-I’m sorry,” he pants, mouth against yours. “I-I just want to feel you.”

You shake him off, body twitching from the utter fullness you felt, the weight in between your folds and your ass that moves in opposing strokes. His cock, wrapped in those bulging ridges, pushes in just as the tentacle in your rear pulls out, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper and sob.

It feels good, amazing even, and you almost can’t believe it’s happening. Jungkook’s lips slot against yours, slow and lazy as he lets your body grow familiar with the stretch. He kisses you until the cat-like grip you have on his shoulders weakens, replaced with wandering hands that trail down his spine. The base of his spine where his protrusions appear is unique, makes him buck against you when you wrap your hands around one appendage.

“S-Sensitive,” he says as an apology, never mind the fact you want him desperately to fuck into you like that again. You voice such thoughts and Jungkook groans against your skin. “Really?” He chokes out, “I can move?”

One nod and then he’s off, for real this time.

He’s slow at first, like he’s hesitant about hurting you, but you tuck one leg around him, pull him closer until he’s forced deeper inside of you, and from there everything is a downward spiral. You forget Jungkook of Sixam is superior for more than just one reason, harsh reminder given in the strong snap of his hips that would have otherwise sent you flying off the couch if that same strength wasn’t channeled into the arms he held you with.

You reach for his hair, desperate to feel that comforting silk between your fingers, but then there’s something wrapping around your wrists. It pins your hands down, twists around your wrists twice before snaking up and curling along your fingers. Like it wants to hold your hand, wants to fill the spaces for Jungkook. The thought makes you burn, insides a boiling mess as he fucks into you, hands held down above your head.

“Jungkook,” you sob, squirming in his hold. It’s like whenever you move, there’s something there, holding you down or fucking you senseless. He responds with a grunt, roughly thrusting into you over and over until all you can manage is a series of hiccups.

The ridges around his cock, the added thickness lended to him by his extra appendage, has every shove past your lips sending tingles like an ascending xylophone shooting throughout your body. The rhythmic stretches make you huff like a dog against him, brain fuzzy and overwhelmed.

At the same time as he delivers killer grind after grind, another arm, the one that had been left out of the fray, slithers around your chest, looping twice around your frame and caging your breasts between them. Like bondage, except it’s Jungkook’s own body holding you down.

You don’t think about the absurdity of it too much, couldn’t anyway. Your brain is a scrambled mess of Jungkook’s lips and incandescent eyes, lost in the purple galaxies and stars he holds, slowly slipping away from reality with each brutal thrust he gives. His name tumbles from your lips, and yours from his. He holds you like you’ll slip away, sweaty skin pulling you impossibly closer with each roll of his hips.

The thick appendage buried within your ass makes you squirm. It’s a tight fit, one you don’t get too stuck on because for every reprieve from its maniac thrusts you are met with the equally ferocious slam of Jungkook’s cock. So it stays in the back of your mind, this curling tentacle that stretches the tight rim of your ass apart.

You were stuffed to the brim, eyes rolling back as you struggled to keep up. A soft brush along your jawline makes you gasp, before your mouth is tentatively filled with something soft and pulsing. Oh, you would die, you think, mindlessly sucking around the tentacle squeezed between your lips. It fattens in your mouth, pushes roughly against your tongue in rhythm with Jungkook’s cock. You cough, gag even, but it doesn’t move away. It drips a thick substance down your throat, disgustingly sweet.

“Please, please,” he pants, quiet and lost among your own higher-pitched moans. Your leg hikes itself further up, accidentally brushes at the base of where two of his tentacles protrude, and Jungkook jolts against you. His cock presses so deep into your walls, you swear you feel him kiss your cervix. “__,” he pants, tongue lapping at the skin of your neck, picking up the sweat and replacing it with his thick saliva. “Be mine, please.”

Your heart pounds with the beat of a marching band's pace, loud thundering that competes against the slapping of Jungkook’s skin against yours. You whimper around the weight in your mouth, the idea he places in your head only fueling that lifelong dream of yours. Your grip around the appendages that hold your wrists down tightens, its faint heartbeat-like pulse felt between your fingers.

“Let me be yours,” Jungkook moans, pulls out once only to slam his cock past your folds, hold himself there as your brain scrambles to rewire itself. As he says this, your mouth is freed, saliva and that sticky wet substance sloppily splattering across your lips and chin at the rather harsh exit. “And you will be mine.”

“Yes, yes!” you choke, dribbling drool down your chin.

It ends too soon.

Jungkook reaches a hand down, thumb feeling for your clit, but he’s pressed so tightly against you, it takes a second before the rough pad makes contact. That simple swipe, one half circle, is enough to make you unravel. “J-Jungkook,” you wail, biting down against his shoulder, “I’m—“

Your orgasm swallows you whole, his tentacle in your ass joining alongside you. It bursts inside of you, makes your ass leak with cum when it finally pulls out.

“I’ve got you,” he shudders, stills when your pussy clenches down around him, creamy pleasure dripping down around his cock. Your cries fill the air, body falling slack against the couch as you struggle to recover. Your head is a foggy mess, clouded by the slow snap of Jungkook’s hips as he reaches his arousal. Each push against your folds feels even more intense now, overstimulated walls fluttering wildly around him as his cock slips in.

His body stiffens and he swiftly pulls out, every ridge of his cock sucked back by your pussy, and when he finally frees himself— from your clenching walls and his tightly-gripping tentacle—he spills over your abdomen. Sticky and pink, like the strawberry lube you keep in your drawer, except its come out of Jungkook as a result of your rump in the sheets.

As quickly as his body locked up, it slumps just as fast, heavy muscles and long limbs crashing down over you before you can react.

“Jungkook—“

The sun shines in through the front window, wakes him from his slumber slowly and then all at once. He accidentally shifts into a patch of sunshine, the blinding light irritating his eyes until Jungkook is forced awake. His body aches but has never felt better, a weird sense of relaxation flooding his senses. For a moment, he is confused.

Eyes scan over the room, purple irises carefully calculating every bit of information until he catches sight of Smilodon’s furry tail and the memories of last night come swarming back in. He sits up quickly, whirling around for any glimpse of you, only to find you’re nowhere in sigh—

“Morning.” A small hand atop of his head, fingers stroking against his scalp. Instantly, Jungkook melts into the touch.

You walk past him and into the kitchen, where you get to work making the usual breakfast for you and Jungkook. He watches you from the couch, naked beneath the blanket you’ve so graciously covered him with. The sun leaks into the kitchen, paints you in soft shades of orange as you amble around the area.

The scent of hot cocoa fills the air, calling him to the space behind you after he dresses. “Good morning,” he says shyly, presses a kiss against your shoulder. Hesitantly, he lets his hands slide around your waist, lock over your navel. You don’t push him away, simply pat the side of his head as Jungkook snuggles into you.

You don’t speak about last night and neither does he. You eat eggs for breakfast and Jungkook playfully knocks his foot against yours beneath the table. “Don’t play footsies with me,” you laugh. Jungkook quite likes footsies.

Morning chores are skipped, pushed off in favor of sitting in front of the couch. You sit beside him, flush against his side, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. The projection box tells him about the weather, says something about a stock market, but other than that, it is relatively quiet.

There is no mission to complete, no tradition to uphold. It is just Jungkook in this new and not as scary world. The mailman always visits, and Smilodon shows his face every now and then. It is a routine he adores, but not as much as the Human at his side.

He doesn’t remember taking his headpiece off until it beeps from its spot on the coffee table, three distinctive chirps that signal an incoming call from the Higher Sixamian Court.

#goldenclosetnet #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook x reader #alternative ending by rumu omits the last paragraph and we all pretend to live happily #but im evil so we suffer together #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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bloodstainsontengensfloor · 4 years

Text

... is this just one big appreciation post for the women of Jujutsu Kaisen? Yes. It is. I go looking for some JJK content and I need more love for my powerful ladies! ⚠️SPOILERS FOR VOLUME 0 AND FOR MANGA!!! ⚠️

Kugisaki Nobara:

The girl of steel.

Her most iconic moment is the “I AM NOBARA KUGISAKI!” She is someone who has a strong sense of self and I’m honestly jealous. She knows who she is, and she’s confident in that. Nobara is funny and full of life and character. She’s comedic and in her introduction, despite being unsure on what to do with the child hostage, handled the situation in a way I didn’t expect based on what was presented by her so far.

She was introduced as confident, blunt, judgemental, and conceited. When the child was taken hostage, she, unaware that Itadori would come in throwing punches, set her stuff down. She was the one who took down the curse, it was her test after all, and I honestly love the little head pat she gives the kid after. It’s such a small gesture but it’s so sweet.

No Character is a good one without flaws and Nobara has her fair share of them. Like stated before, she’s conceited and her bluntness is sometimes just rude. She saw herself as above most people in her old town because she couldn’t understand how they could be so small minded and live simple lives when she in fact is a little small minded and naive. The first curse she faced wasn’t one she was totally ready for, but in the end conquered. She views Maki and Mai as a bad twin/good twin situation. She never met Sukuna so can only judge Itadori based on who she knows, Itadori. She understands the gender norms of the Jujutsu world and believes that she can change them as long as she just is her. She knows she’s pretty and she knows she strong so what could go wrong? (Loosing an eye).

Something I do love about her though is that she had friends and people she cared for before she came to Tokoyo. Before she uhm... gets injured, she thinks about an old friend and how she doesn’t think she will get to met up with her like she promised. Nobara is a great friend with a lot of love to give. She’s truthful but not perfect.

Random fact I love: her hair is dyed.

Zenin Maki:

The woman who will prove everyone wrong. She’s ambitious, powerful, and hardworking. She began at the very bottom of the world she lived in, and is still restricted by these boundaries even after she proved herself over and over again. But never once did she let that bring her down.

She can’t see curses without her glasses, (as someone who wears glasses most of the time, it’s hard to always keep them on your face), and has very limited cursed energy that she must rely on cursed infused objects for battle. But that isn’t the bad kind of relying on because of the fact it makes her extremely skilled and resourceful. She uses a bunch of different weapons and is ‘incredibly strong’.

She is blunt and straightforward, but can also be someone who teaches others. Personally, I’d hate to have her as a teacher because she would push me to every limit I want to avoid but should reach. Maki is the leader of the Tokoyo kids, I can’t take no argument. She will put the protagonist in his place. You don’t get to come back from the dead and act like you are in charge smh.

She admires strength. Her ‘type’ is someone who is strong, but it can be debated what kind of ‘strength’ she means. The Jujutsu world’s restricted view on strength is something that limited her for years and was still limiting her up to the current manga arc. Does she admire someone who’s strength is in their physical, mental, or emotional manifestation? She’s a great character and it gets more expanded in Volume 0. I need to re read that, and omg Maki like lost a crap ton of limbs and now she is like... roasted??

Praying she lives and that her father dies so she can work on becoming the head of the clan, like she wants. Fushigiro has the power but he cut ties with the fam and Mai has no desire. So... Maki as head of the Zenin Clan 2021... well I guess 2018?

Random fact I love: maki’s name has the kanji for “genuine” and “hope”.

Zenin Mai:

I have exhausted this topic. But I’m in love. (I wrote this whole thing and my thing glitched and deleted all my work rip)

Mai is confident and crude. She’s introduced as rude, inconsiderate and just all around your basic mean girl. She’s pretty, she’s confident and she doesn’t care if what she says hurt you.

However, one thing that seperates her from every other character in the story, is that she has no desire nor ambition to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. As a child, she was scared of curses and it’s implied that she may still be scared of them as a teen. She was content living as a servant in her home because at least she would have a normal life. But, had she stayed in that life she would be living in a toxic household where she got no love and was viewed as lesser than. Despite not wanting to be a jujutus sorcerer, her sister’s ambitions of being one forced her to do the same and try to stay on par with her. At Kyoto, Mai develops... great friendships. She’s given kindness and love. This much can be seen in the conversation with her and Nishimya and the softness in her face when she simply says “I know” over the phone.

Personally, I don’t believe the Kyoto students are aware of Mai’s desires, due to the fact that Nishimya talked about the barriers placed against Mai/Maki as something distasteful for Mai.

Mai is someoen who puts on an act. She plays the part of your basic mean girl because what else is she supposed to do? She’s unhappy, and the only thing she knows how to do is lash out. She only knows and maybe even wants people to feel as bad as she did and does. She’s dependent and has abandonment issues due to her sister’s act of letting go of her hand.

However, what Nobara says is right. Misfortune doesn’t allow one to do what they want or to justify when they do bad things. Mai, like a lot of the Kyoto students, don’t know how to cope and deal with the bundles of emotions and conflict within them. They only know to lash out. In the story, Mai is still a minor character, but she has potential for growth, and I really hope it’s given to her.

Fun fact I love: Her first name contains the Kanji for “Geunine” and “rely on”. I love this because Mai might not even know who her genuine self is and in the recent manga chapters she’s relied on as back up from a distance.

Kasumi Miwa:

She’s the anchor of the Kyoto gang. Unlike the others, she doesn’t have major emotional baggage. She led a simple life and has a simple goal. Miwa wants to be a Jujutus Sorcerer to get enough money to help provide for her poor family.

Her story has a rag-to-riches type beat. She met a Jujutsu mentor who she trained under and learned how to wield a Katana so she wouldn’t have to burden her mother. She’s selfless, kind, and down to earth. Miwa has a fangirl heart and admires big name people like Gojo. She had major self confidence issues, despite all this. She had to work for this and has a goal in mind, but that doesn’t mean she’ll always feel useful.

Her relationship with Mechamaru is bitter sweet. She wants to know him better. Despite it being a prank, she does try to give him little gifts and make him feel included in everything they do. He protects her when his actions as the mole potentially put her endanger. It hurt watching the part of Miwa talking to his empty robot self while he did what he needed to.

And his last messages to her through the little ear pieces 😭😭.Even after knowing what he does, she’s still there to listen and is still there for them to rely on.

Miwa is just a breathe of fresh air in this story, but that doesn’t exclude her from the angst and trauma that comes with a story as dark as this.

Fun fact I love: it’s not a fact, but she wears a full on suit. I love it. I love it so much.

Momo Nishimya:

She’s a little witch 🥺. Momo Nishimya is introduced as somewhat reserved. She expressed nervousness over the abilities of the Tokoyo kids. In her fight with Nobara, she acknowledges her as strong and severely underestimated her. However, like Nobara, she’s willing to defend her friends at any chance she has.

The minute Nobara expresses distaste toward Mai, Nishimya immediate begins to defend her and starts lecturing Nobara on how women are treated unfairly in the jujutsu world. She introduced this idea that a woman must be pretty and strong, and I really hope this idea comes into play more and more later (and I think it will). Despite having a female teacher who is strong yet scarred, she expresses the idea that a scar is setback for a woman.

Her and Mai get along very well. The two of them are somewhat the troublemakers that Miwa constantly has to wrangle in (The dynamic between those three I love). Her character is pretty minor but in the reccent chapters, I loved how she got her mini moment. Itadori and her were the only two who were able to avoid Uraume’s ice and talks to Itadori passively and tries to even work with him. It’s a big step from how she begins with telling Nobara that she is a fool for being unable to distinguish a curse from a friend.

Fun fact I love about her: she’s Japanese American with an American father. Same, but I wasn’t raised Japanese whatsoever 🥲.

I’m going to do a part two with our adult ladies but that’s all for now folks!

Fun facts from the JJK Wiki page!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #mai zenin #maki zenin #nobarakugisaki #jujutsu kaisen miwa #nishimiya momo #jjk anime #anime #jjk

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industriangel · 3 years

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Oppymum alfred

RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER SO FAST I START A FIRE

First impression- When I first played the GBA game I was like ??? 10. I think. So Alfred terrified me to bloody death. I did NOT like him at all. Bad. Scary robot monkey.

Impression now- He's still utterly terrifying but this time I love him with all my heart. There is NOT enough involving him which is a crying shame because he has so much potential. Like a 30 year old robot who was constructed by a cocky adventure hunter and promptly left to his own devices, who according to the game 1. Developed his own learnt intelligence enough to get a loan from the bank to open his own factory (/illegal chopshop lol) and 2. Almost became an elected official? And now he's just chilling running his own tech factory, is intelligent enough to build a teleporter to the moon but plays up the 'beep boop im a calculator with no feelings' robot angle to everyone including his own creator because he thinks its funny to observe how stupid humans can be. There is so MUCH to him its so sad he was only a side character in 2 spinoff games :(

Favourite moment- I literally love all his interactions in the DS version with the player character. He's so blunt and rude. His overfriendly servant 'let me help you clean' demeanour drops so quickly. The fact he's like 'no offense but humans are genuinely pathetic. I mean that in the nicest possible way'. I love all that.

Idea for a story- I have been DESPERATE for a Sims 2 GBA like.. slice of life series. I know it will never be made ever and I've considered making a comic myself. But imagine how much fun you have have with that setting and characters? Anyway I think al and xizzle should run errands around Strangetown together- maybe when Xiz becomes mayor and wants to build a good relationship with the citizens and brings al because folks have been complaining about how creepy and vaguely antisocial he is.

Unpopular opinion- His design actually slaps. I don't know if they intentionally made him to be scary but his design is actually just really cool and I love it a lot. (Also somehow less freaky than the bot hes based on...)

Favourite relationship- he doesnt really have many in the game. Except maybe Tristan, the player character and .. that's it. I think he alludes to hating Xiz and King Mole BUT that will not stop me from thinking him and Xiz would make a great dysfunctional team (and maybe couple *cough*)

Also Horus? Horus would be a good friend i think.

Favourite headcanon- He doesnt really like anyone at all and developed his superiority complex because no one really took him seriously. They either found him unnerving or spoke down to him (I think in one of the GBA 'episodes' someone says they accidentally programmed Al wrong when inputting actions for him to take- which i can imagine would piss Al off quite a bit considering even though he puts on a typical robot act, one can still talk and interact with him like they would anyone else. Coulda just... asked)

THANK YOU FOR ASKIN! I love talking about Optimum Al, I'm just yoinking him and doing what I want tbh.

#kc calls #asks #ask game

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

Text

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 11)

“How’d things go last night?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know?”

“I don’t really have any other dates that I can compare it to, Hajime.”

“Well did he make you laugh and smile?”

“He did.” But he also reminded her of just why she doesn’t particularly deserve to laugh and smile. She wonders if Hajime would reprimand her for turning his son down. Even if he wouldn’t, she isn’t sure that she should. She can’t imagine that there is a line of people waiting to shower her with affection. She is almost certain that she wouldn’t take well to it anyhow. She isn’t the sort for hugs and kisses and tender touches. It is quite hard to imagine herself on the receiving end of it. She can already picture her cheeks growing red and she loathes the very idea of being left a flustered mess.

“But?” Hajime prompts.

She shrugs and slaps her hands against her thighs. “But then he told me about how his wife died. That kind of ruins the mood, wouldn’t you say?”

Hajime rolls his eyes, “sounds like Seukhyun. He doesn’t exactly know how to choose dinner conversations. I’d wager that he’s just about as...socially confused as you are.”

“Is that how Atsu’s mother died? Did those soldiers kill her too?”

He glances into the other room where Atsu leaps off of his bed with Bao, The Magnificent Mole in hand. He drops the stuffed badger-mole into Caihong’s lap. “I thought that his name was Mud Muncher!” The girl declares. Satisfied that the boy is fully engrossed, Hajime turns back to her. “No. She was killed by the Fire Nation. After our own soldiers left they told the enemy soldiers exactly where to find us. I told Atsu that she just got sick…”

“Have you ever met a good soldier, Hajime?”

“Personally, no.” He replies. “But I’m sure that there are some out there.”

Azula responds with a bitter sniff.

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t. They fight for what they think is best and then they find out that, that thing is actually the worst. And then they realize that they are monsters. Of course, most of them knew it all along. Nobody joins the military unless they want to kill someone.”

“Do you…” he looks into the other room. Atsu has fastened one of Caihong’s dolls to Bao. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

She nods her head towards the children.

“Atsu, Caihong!” They look up. “Rikka and I are going for a quick walk, stay out of trouble or I’ll go right to old man Hajime!”

“Don’t worry dad, Bao the Magnificent Mole has Avatar powers, he can defend the whole house from evil Fire Lord Bonsai!”

“Do you mean, Ozai?” Azula asks.

He shakes his head, “nope, I mean Bonsai! Fire Lord Bonsai is an evil bonsai tree that can talk and its leaves are on fire--except the fire is purple---and Avatar Mao is the world’s last hope because…” he sucks in a deep breath, “...because if he doesn’t stop Bonsai then Bonsai will use Roku’s comet to destroy the lion-turtle!”

“Also Ba Sing Se, Bonsai is going to burn Ba Sing Se if Mao can’t stop him.” Caihong adds.

Azula nods. “If you say so.”

“And! And! And also Fire Lord Bonsai has a son that’s a cabbage named Leaf and he’s the prince.” He holds up a leaf, “this is…”

“Leaf?” Hajime guesses.

“Mmmhmm!”

“Come on, Hajime.” She tugs at the man’s arm before Atsu can introduce any other offensive caricatures.

“You and Cai behave.” He waits for the children to nod before following Azula outside. “We were saying…”

“There are no good soldiers Hajime. It doesn’t matter what side of the war they are on. The winning side simply looks less evil because they are painted well. But they’re all…”

“You were a soldier, weren’t you?” Azula swallows. She feels his hand cup around her own. “Let’s walk by the riverside, it’s quieter there.”

He doesn’t speak to her again until they come to a stop on a rickety bridge. “I know that you like being right but I disagree with you. Sure, there are people who join the war over power and bloodlust but some people join the military because they have no choice. Some folks need money, some were forced into it, and some want to protect loved ones. What was your reason?”

Azula thinks for a moment. It certainly wasn’t a matter of money and really she had no one to protect. She didn’t feel particularly forced, she’d rather enjoyed it and she thinks that she would enjoy it still--to feel the thrill of a conquest, a rush of adrenaline, a feeling of worth and accomplishment. “Power.”

“Power?” Hajime asks.

She nods. “I don’t know why you are surprised.”

He seems to study her for a long time. “Why did you want power?”

She furrows her brows.

“I’ve come to observe that most people who want power want it because they feel weak.”

But she had, had all of the power in the world in riches and in bending.

“So why did you want it?”

“I…” She looks off. Off to where the river leads, curling into a tangle of pine. Catkins and tallgrasses bob in the breeze. And yet, even with all of this clarity, she can’t seem to think of a reason why she would have wanted more power. She supposes that, that is just it; she never wanted it for herself, she wanted it so that she could turn it over to her father.

“I think that soldiers are a bit different in the Fire Nation. It seems like, over there, some people were raised on war and never knew any different.” He pauses to chuck a stone into the river. It lands with a plop and stirred up ringlets on the surface. A dragonfly launches itself out of the grasses. “I guess it isn’t so different in the Earth Kingdom. They make it sound glorious, and good and so you start to think that it is…”

Azula stares at the backs of her hands, feels the breeze fluttering her hair against her neck.

“I don’t think that you wanted power, usually people can say exactly why they want it.”

“To give it to my father.”

He nods. “So...love then?”

“What?”

“You wanted power so that you could give it to someone you loved? He was too weak to get it for himself so…”

“He wasn’t weak. He was the most powerful man I knew. He wanted more of it so I was going to get it for him.”

“Okay, he wasn’t weak.” Hajime nods. He is quiet for the longest time. And several times he opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it once more as if thinking better of doing so. She watches a count of six birds swoop down to take drinks before he finally says, “It sounds like you were one of the people who was raised on war. I don’t think that a good father would want his daughter to go to war for him.”

“My father was a good father.” Her stomach sinks even as she says it. He was such a good father that he left her behind. Strangely that probably was the best thing that he could have done for her. It weighs on her so heavily that she finds herself practically slumping over the bridge.

“You didn’t go to war for power. You went to war for love, to show it or to earn it. Or maybe both.”

Love…

He cups his hand over hers. “Maybe it led to bad things but at least you can say that you had one of the best reasons to become a soldier.”

If only that was it. If only that was the whole truth. If only glory and fear had no part of why she’d done so. If only she had just been a simple soldier. “I’m not what you think I am.”

He chuckles. “Who says that I’ve leapt to any conclusions about you?”

“It isn’t a matter of saying it, it’s a matter of implying.”

“I don’t have any solid ideas of who you are but I know what you aren’t.”

“Oh?”

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know that you’re not a bad person, Rikka.”

Rikka is not a bad person. He can’t soundly say the same for Azula. She opens her mouth and it very nearly comes out. She very nearly tells him just who he is dealing with.

“The people in this village only say good things about you. A lot of them are more open to firebenders because of you. Maybe you think that you’re a bad person, but you’re not.” His hand slides off her hers. “We should probably check on Atsu and Caihong.”

She nods. “Yes, that would be a good idea.”

That day she learns that she might not be a monster.

.oOo.

She hates to admit it but she likes Sokka’s laugh. It isn’t charming. It isn’t elegant. It isn’t a pleasant sound, he snorts. But it is genuine, pure, and unapologetic happiness. The sort of laugh she hasn’t heard since listening in on Atsu and Caihong’s play. She holds the Bao against her stomach, absently stroking his head as she waits for Sokka to finish laughing.

“So you’re telling me that this Atsu kid sees me as a boomerang and he thinks that you’re a…”

“The color blue.” She nods. “Anything that he can find that is blue. He had bits and pieces of information but he had it all mixed up and so instead of blue fire, Fire Lord Bonsai’s daughter is just blue. Anything blue.”

“And ‘Roku’s’ comet was a…”

“Flaming cabbage sent by a very vengeful merchant, yes.”

“Oh man, that kid’s a genius. He outta write for the Ember Island players.” He wipes a tear from his eyes. “Maybe you can introduce me to him one day.”

She squeezes the badger-mole and shakes her head. She is glad that his eyes are still closed with laughter. She campuses herself before he looks up.

“Sorry, I know that I promised not to ask any questions after your story but I really just needed some clarification.”

“Those questions were superficial, I didn’t mind answering them. Your turn.”

“Alright, so do you want to hear about the time when we took Zuko to the Water Tribes for some penguin sledding and he got swarmed by them or…”

“Yes. I want to hear that one.”

“Or…”

“I want to hear the Zuko penguin story.” Azula says firmly.

.oOo.

He supposes that he will have to save the, Zuko stuck in a coconut tree for a day when she isn’t so stubbornly refusing the possibility of a funnier Zuko mishap story. She stares at him expectantly, drumming her fingers upon the badger-mole.

“So it was an anniversary present from me to Suki. I decided that it would be fun to take her to the tribes because she always wanted to see a penguin in person. It was great we got all snuggly and cozy, we had these really warm fur blankets and this fire going. There was a blizzard outside so Katara and Zuko and the others were stuck with Hakoda at Bato’s place. Suki and I had some alone time.” He winks. “She pecked me on the cheek and...”

“Spare me the details, Sokka. The only pecking that I would like to hear about involves Zuzu and penguins.”

He flushes. “Right, well after Suki and I got our alone time we decided to take a group trip to the penguin caves. Aang wanted to go penguin sledding again, he said that he could beat Zuko down the hillside. And you know how Zuko gets, ‘I’m going to beat the Avatar in a penguin race, for honor!’ So he went after the largest penguin. Those things are bigger than you think!”

Azula takes a sip of tea, “are they now?”

He nods. “Pretty sure there was one that is bigger than you. I guess that’s not saying much because…”

She fixes him with a deadpan stare and a quirked brow.

“Because...those penguins are massive, not because you’re really small.” He hears her inhale through her nose and snickers. “So Zuko finds the largest penguin that he could find and just leaps on. But that penguin was a mother and it was meal time so all of the chicks just waddle on up but Zuko is in the way. I think that they thought that he was their mother because they were trying to get food from him.”

“Did they get it?”

Sokka shakes his head. “Not from Zuko. Katara had to run all the way back to the village to get buckets of krill to lure them off of Zuko. He was picking feathers out of his hair for days.”

“That does sound like Zuzu. But usually it’s the turtle-ducks.” She gives a one armed shrug. “I guess that he has an affinity for creatures with beaks.”

“Thanks for sharing the badger-mole story.”

She toys with the sash of her nightgown. “I’m...glad that you enjoyed it.”

He grins, though it isn’t particularly the story that he enjoyed--granted her certainly did enjoy that well enough--what he enjoyed was hearing it from her. Was seeing the soft smile on her lips. Was noticing and observing the way her eyes seemed to light up when she made mention of the boy. It was comforting. Comforting and reassuring somehow.

“Does it make you feel better?” He asks.

She tilts her head.

“To talk about moments that made you happy.”

She works a muscle in her jaw, “I suppose that it helps a little, yes.”

“Maybe all of us can get together and…”

“No.” Azula murmurs. “Not yet. I don’t want to share these things with Zuzu yet, he’ll be...overbearing. TyLee gets too sappy and Mai isn’t interested in hearing me go on about some kid.”

“He’s not just some kid.” Sokka says immediately. “I can tell.” Azula tenses and he lifts his hands. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking questions. But it isn’t a bad thing, you know, to show people that you’ve got feelings and that you care about other people.”

She reclines in the chair, props her head against her arm and drapes the other over her belly. She seems to stare off at nothing at all. “Perhaps.”

“Think about it!” He insists. “Servants and guards have been approaching you more. They aren’t scared of you. I know that Mai and TyLee say that you have a thing for being all scary and intimidating but you don’t need to be anymore because…”

“The war has been over for years.” Her eyes don’t leave that distant spot, wherever it is. “I know.”

.oOo.

“Then why do you still have so many walls up?”

Because she is afraid.

“If you think that we won’t like you for being yourself, it’s not true. We have met all sorts of weirdos that we love. Like those swamp guys, you met them! They’re weird and we like them!”

“The more you talk the deeper you dig.” She rolls her eyes. But he isn’t entirely off in his assumptions.

“You took a lot of walls down for me today,” he continues. “Believe it or not, I liked it. I liked the little glimpse that I saw.”

Her tummy flutters. “Yes well I’m not ready for that.”

“Not ready to let people know that you’re a human being?”

Not ready to let people see her, all of her. Not ready for them to get attached to her and care for her. She isn’t even ready for the possibility. She certainly isn’t ready to let people love her. Not the way Hajime did. Cherishable or not she isn’t ready to feel again what Hajime had made her feel. Not with someone who isn’t Hajime.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Fanfiction

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ganymedesclock · 5 years

Text

A Sincere Thought About Final Pam

So this thought just hit me like a ton of bricks while I was waking up this morning, so bear with me, folks.

Final Pam- and the monster factory episode where they create and start playing her- was actually I believe, my first in-depth exposure to the Mcelroy brothers. And I specifically recall being hesitant going in. “So three male comedy personalities... are going to deliberately set out to create an ugly woman character, and then play her, and the point of this is they are trying very hard to make her strange and ugly.”

I kind of had my teeth half-grit in this, wondering how mean the jokes would be, about halfway through the character creation.

And then something happened.

They fell in love with their character.

When the subject was Pam being weird and grotesque and breaking the sliders, they were very enthusiastic about that. But just that- they were enthusiastic in a largely positive sense. Some of the choices they made- maxing out the muscle slider- they were just plain stoked about! “She’s like a human punch!”

And the character that emerged from it, even though she was designed as a parody, is someone who has captivated people’s hearts, who has a genuinely wonderful amount of personality and flair. I find myself thinking about Final Pam a lot, especially her dolled-up later look with the sunglasses, dress, and axe.

And if I’m honest. I think that this is a very important skill of the Mcelroy brothers as character creators- they will start with something silly. Something ridiculous. A wizard named “taco taco” (not spelled that way, of course). But they will then sincerely emotionally commit to the experience of being this person.

Pam’s face and body are not curses laid against her to depict her as someone who can’t be loved, only funny to laugh at- they are acts of defiance that brought together her character in total rebellion of how the game whose system spawned her wanted her to look. So the experience of Pam is not to be a mockery-worthy pariah who’s either unaware of it or scorned by it- but of telling the gods themselves or as close to it, to fuck off, because you look fantastic.

This actually changed the way I play video games. No joke. Before this point, I don’t think I ever really had that much fun with character creation sliders. In the Sims, in Skyrim, I agonized over them- but didn’t enjoy it. My characters had to be pretty. If I accidentally chose an option that made them look bad, I got frustrated. And because they had to be the narrowest imaginable standard of pretty, I never had fun.

But Pam looked like fun. Being Pam looked like fun, and creating Pam looked like fun.

The next time I fired up skyrim and stared at that character creator? I made a decision.

I tried to make a zombie, in a character creator that is designed, well, for living people. Experimented with options and overlays, how to add a very pale, drawn, sickly appearance, to suggest a character who is in early stages of decay- or a stage of embalming- in which they can pass, walking around, for the flesh of the living. Jutting facial bones, cavernous sunken cheeks, a bald head.

She was not pretty. I loved her. I had a lot of fun being her.

Now, I am not quite on the level of the Mcelroy brothers, though I may strive to get there. My heart has been somewhat closed to loving my own creations. I yearn for them to be taken seriously- they must be. They are too close to myself, and on a level, I am terrified of seeming like a joke to people. This may be part of the particular path I’ve tread through experiencing the world as a neurodivergent person- being autistic and adhd, it has felt in the past like my hard-won badge of maturity will be revoked in any context where I do not viciously fight to defend it. I fear becoming merely a comic relief character in someone else’s lives.

But ‘prettiness’ haunted me, both in video games, and in my art. I am also someone who was raised as a girl, and unfortunately, to many people, “pretty” is the best thing a girl can be, and they might superficially decry “an obsession with beauty”- but if you’re not pretty, it becomes harder to be taken seriously. For someone like me, whose features and body are passable for societal norms, I had an advantage I felt afraid of losing.

And as someone who tends to feel more like a guy than like a girl, that adds a whole other layer onto it: guys are also held to standards of looking good, but rather than just being assumed “vapid” if you’re too caught up in your looks, that’s a matter of suspect and scandal. Beautiful men- sparkle sparkle- are treated as suspect, more fragile, more stupid than others, or outrageous, scandalous, a joke.

Taken as a girl, I can be seen as not really concerned with my looks enough (I’m sure the beauty industry would personally love to sell me concealer and foundation to wear everyday rather than a single thing of mascara I fiddle with on rare occasions when I think it might be fun, and even people who aren’t makeup salesmen, probably rightly, think I don’t moisturize enough); but taken as a guy, if I ever passed enough as a cis article to be seen by others at first glance as a man, I’d probably pass off as far too concerned on it.

The thing about Pam, though, is she is undeniable. Pam looks however well she damn pleases. She sets her own standards, and by her standards, she’s rocking it. The experience of being Pam is an impassioned rejection of the standards of beauty, the narrative she’s ostensibly positioned in as a character, and, in fact, the raw laws of her universe- that is, those of the game. HA HA, WRITERS, YOU DECIDE WHAT IS IMPORTANT? NO. PAM DECIDES WHAT IS IMPORTANT. ROACHIE AND METAL HUSBAND ARE IMPORTANT.

Pam is vivacious, enthusiastic, a sheer force of chaos- and she is not even sorry for the slightest second, about her face, about her body, about her volume, about anything. Pam will never be measured as a failure woman, because Pam only measures herself as Pam. And she is the only Pam. The ideal Pam. The Final Pam. There is no failure state for being Pam.

While total chaotic disregard of other people also has a dark side... I think I personally have lived most of my life on the other side of the problem: not really wanting to make a fuss.

So watching that episode of Monster Factory, and coming into contact with Final Pam as a character made me realize that my own anxieties, my assumption that there is a failure state for being me, was a shadow that I cast over my character creation process. I made characters who were inoffensive, pretty, desirable, even as I challenged the idea with them being gross, or intense, or fearsome- they could have eyeballs growing out of their throats, just not too large of a nose. When I was given the toy of a character creator, I didn’t truly play with it. I carefully arranged them into inoffensive model features, and then tried to make up for it by having them rampage with a sledgehammer (but even then, only so much rampaging)

But people who are truly beautiful have always pushed the envelope of what was acceptable. Facial moles are ugly and disfiguring- oh, wait, no they’re not, Marilyn Monroe has one and it’s all the rage. If someone has the charisma to push themselves out into the public eye despite all of the setbacks and barriers, we are forced to acknowledge them.

I needed Pam. I needed to make characters who were not apologetic for being themselves, an “I’m sorry” baked into the elevation of their cheekbones.

I haven’t broken a character creator yet. But I do know that nowadays I’m having a lot more fun.

#writing ruminations #character design #readmore

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 4 years

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I started thinking about Chiara, Merula and Badeea. These people are pretty good representations of their houses, but they've never seemed to meet and interact with each other, so i was wondering how these 3 meeting (not necessarily altogether at the same time) would play out in your head. I thought it'd be an interesting scenario since they really embody their respective houses and their personalities differ quite a bit- the bright witch, the ambitious (insecure?) bully and the sweet, shy one.

This is curious, because I got another Ask recently that was about Merula and Chiara. Was that you? If not, that’s a hilarious coincidence, but let’s try and figure something out here. (This is basically going to be fan-fiction so brace yourself.)

Here’s the scenario: MC holds a Circle meeting and gives everyone jobs that involve splitting off into groups. One group is going to investigate the Sunken Vault. This would be MC, Ben, and maybe Barnaby or something. One group is going to keep an eye on the staff and keep folks like Snape and Filch distracted. Tulip, Tonks, Diego, people of the like. The final group is one that’s going to investigate Rakepick and R. This will be Badeea, Chiara, and Merula, who would have insisted on joinging.

I don’t imagine either of the others are that thrilled that Merula is coming along, and were probably both looking forward to working together otherwise. Badeea is probably curious about Chiara, and while Chiara doesn’t like socializing in general, I think she’d be able to tell that Badeea was “safe.” Certainly more-so than Merula. So, how are they going to investigate? Merula wants to charge in, but Badeea and Chiara both discourage it. Chiara wonders if there might be a clue they’ve already missed. That’s when Badeea hatches her plan.

She sets to work painting, while Merula busies herself grilling Chiara for her wallflower-like behavior, thinking she could be the Mole. It’s not Chiara, but she’s clearly hiding something, and Merula tries to pull Badeea aside to tell her this, but Badeea has finished with her painting. It is of Knockturn Alley. To be precise, she has painted the Infiltration meeting. It’s a moving portrait, of course, because magic.

The three witches observe the scene playing out, as Badeea explains that she has mimicked the magic found in Pensieves to recreate the scene based on what MC, Tonks and Jae recounted. Merula thoughtlessly reaches out to touch it and Chiara tries to stop her but it’s too late. The three are absorbed into the painting. Now, it’s not the same as the Portrait Curse, but they’re still stuck in there until Badeea can find a way to get them out.

Meanwhile, Merula almost instinctively aims her wand at Rakepick, even though it’s not actually Rakepick but MC, and none of this is real anyway. Chiara frantically hushes Merula, as well as Badeea who is trying to stop her. For Chiara recognizes the dark witch as being one of Greyback’s gang. Which means Greyback could be involved with R. It’s a potential lead.

Meanwhile, Badeea, despite studying the borders of the painting, is listening closely to the discussion about the mole. Everything is interrupted by the arrivals of Rakepick, Moody, and Jacob. Badeea discovers the opening to escape, and Chiara has to beg Merula, holding her back from charging at Rakepick, to get her through the “portal.” The Portrait illusion of Rakepick, and of MC for that matter, both taunting Merula.

Once they’re all out, everyone is upset. Badeea wants to know why Chiara recognized the dark witch, and Merula accuses her of being the mole. However, she’s also furious with Badeea for nearly trapping them in that painting and thinks it could be her as well. Badeea and Chiara are both upset with Merula for putting their safety on the line to try and rescue her, and Merula shoots back that she never asked for their help.

Merula storms away to meet with MC and Ben, leaving Chiara and Badeea to talk about everything. They both realize that Merula is going through a lot more pain than she admits, and Badeea calls out Chiara in the same way. She’s figured out that both of them keep secrets, even if it’s just secret feelings. Chiara, desperate to deflect, counters that Badeea is like a mad muggle scientist, eager to experiment with magic and not caring about the risks.

The three of them don’t work together again for a while, because it was such a disaster. But just before Merula goes off to the Sunken Vault, Badeea gathers her and Chiara together, and tells that that she’s arrived at a thesis about the Circle of Khanna. Merula already doesn’t care, and Chiara is nervous, but Badeea goes on to explain that everyone is here because what was done to Rowan was wrong, and it can’t be allowed to happen again. Everyone has different reasons for participating, and different ways they contribute. Merula is the muscle. Chiara is the healer. And Badeea is the thinker. We can get some backstory about her friendship with Rowan if we like, but the bottom line is, she trusts everyone in the Circle. Everyone.

She gives each of them a portrait of a setting sun, and tells that that it functions like a sneakoscope. If the sun fully sets and the portrait becomes a night-fall, they’re in danger. Both of them awkwardly accept, now feeling a little sheepish after Badeea’s confident declaration of trust in them. Chiara concedes that she’s definitely a private person, but is loyal to the Circle, no doubt. Merula also concedes that she’s not always friendly, but that they can depend on her leadership. (We’ll just ignore that she’s not the leader.

After Badeea leaves...Merula doesn’t apologize to Chiara, in typical Merula fashion, but also insists that she’s “too weak” to be the mole. Chiara rolls her eyes at this, but also tells Merula that she doesn’t have to do everything alone. Not even facing Rakepick. After all, that kind of thinking is what caused Rowan to...she breaks off. Merula is discomforted by the sincerity but still appreciates it, and she heads into the Sunken Vault with Badeea’s mini-sunset portrait tucked into her robes.

Basically, it’s a TLSQ that doesn’t feature MC. Now that’s a million galleon idea right there, Jam City. I’m just saying, it would be a cool change of pace.

#Badeea Ali #Chiara Lobosca #Merula Snyde #HPHM Analysis #HPHM Fanfiction #HPHM Headcanons #Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery #The Circle of Khanna

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lilmajorshawty · 6 years

Text

Lilith Through The Houses : The Fallen

(Carpenter Brut - TURBO KILLER)

Lilith In The First House : The Demon you can see

Lilith in the first house is about more than just the dark aura or the seemingly endless gazing eyes and petrified reactions from outsiders, rather it’s a accumulation of the natives energy focused so tensely in the area of the “self” that they seem like some powerfully dark entity. the face can have a darkness to it be it in color or in it’s appearance. the hair is often dark and depending on how close to the ascendant Lilith truly is it can even overwhelm any lightening affects of planets like Jupiter or Venus here. the eyes are often stunning, and a very harsh quality lies behind the gaze. the demeanor can seem quite detached and intense even if they are standing in an idle position. the natives also carry a strong energy, one that can seem a bit repugnant or erotic. these natives often can be completely opposite of the energy they’re expressing but it can be so atmospheric that they can be accused of “seducing” or “corrupting” their siblings, co-workers, step parents, friends lovers and so on. They have a mysterious nature to them that creates a sort of fearful nature in others, as many often ponder on if they are secretly moving or plotting in silence. These natives are POWERFUL and the scary aspect about them is their ability to dominate a room, a crowd or any relationship by sheer force of will and by existing. to many they are a threat, a bully, a sharlton, a whore, or some wicked vile beast of temptation. early life can be hard especially if Lilith is afflicted from this house and sadly these natives can receive quite a bit of sexual objectification as people often worship and lust after them as if they were a demon of sexual appetite. Lilith here is dangerous as she projects the inner animal in all of us onto the native making the native a target of primal behavior in others. People can act downright like wild animals towards these natives, snarling, kicking, biting, spitting, roaring, and so on just to strike them down and make them feel as small as the native makes them feel just by existing. once mature these natives are physically astonishing, as Lilith’s dark energy courses through the body’s constitution. staying fit is usually fairly easy here. and the mental and emotional faculties are very highly attuned making them incredible readers of character and intent. as these natives age they walk into their Lithuanian image and become truly intense and immovable objects, the men can seem like the devil, like some sly creature, some harmonious gale that weights you down with a simple glare. The women are fierce, and silent, passionately observing the world like a emperor of their bloodied kingdom. she is dangerous and cold, her intentions are far from emotional and her reactions are everything but sympathetic. this can be the coldest and unnerving of individuals to meet.

(Carpenter Brut - DIVISION RUINE)

Lilith In The Second House : The Blackest of Sheep

For Lilith in The second house natives self worth can be a guessing game, sort of like a constant pendulum swing. hatred of the purest and most carnal form can be exhibited towards ones body, whilst at another moment worship and unforeseen pleasure and joy can be derived from ones own body, their sense of self and place in this grand shit show called life. as you can imagine their appetite for the finer things is unmatched, but in many cases these natives love the ruined parts of beauty. This can be the ripped jeans, the broken stilettos. the old and cracked rusty crimson lipstick or the runny eyeliner, the spiked belt or the bareness of skin pale and lifeless after a cold shower. These natives are cold to the touch and tend to have quite the intense relationship with intimacy and touch. in many ways they loathe closeness and lingering intimacy, seeking to keep a mighty far distance from close ties or entanglements that last longer than they should. the other side of this is that once they do let someone in they can be so drawn to touch and sexuality, its sensuous and amorous nature that they become a gluttonous demon for it, eating their lovers alive. they can wear plenty of silly pretend tones, and soothe anyone into a manipulative tactic and make it seem like it was all a misunderstanding. These are the robbers and thieves willing to take and bleed everything and anyone dry if it brings them closer to their obsession “having what they cannot.” These natives are magnetic and their earthy bare beauty lies in the fact that Lilith here is reflecting on her time with Adam, the sex they had, his touch and the stranious and rather euphoric state she enjoyed until she was cast out and betrayed, thus as she lay nude and bare flying in rage in an unknown sky she dammed the world, the world she believed she had once had, now telling her she could no longer own it. these natives don’t value money or materialistic objects rather they value what is not their’s, what has been created, what is so fondly gazed upon by others, they seek to tear down it’s beautiful glow and to in-turn be made beautiful in it’s downfall. These natives by nature are sacrificial and have a almost godly relationship with the plants of the earth, many are gardeners in their pare time or actively partaking in medicinal herbs and many are even inherently nomadic easily reading climate patterns and environmental signs. these natives are also amazing in the field of medicine for their ability to scope out bodily dysfunctions and emotional imbalances. that being said these natives also have the most dangerous singing voices one could ever here do to it’s magnetic and often eerily moving tone. a rejection of the sensuality or body is common with this placement by the self or by others.

(Carpenter Brut - MANIAC cover)

Lilith In The Third House : The Rumors Of Shepard

Lilith in the third is a very subtle yet remorseless position, here Lilith has a free tongue and is delighted at the intricate yet magnified level of mental mind games and manipulation plausible in human nature. These natives may have had a parent or an early influence who was a pathological liar, a schemer or in some ways a com, and false prophet. the children often were fascinated and found novelty in the weakness of the brain and sought later in life to play into this more weakened aspect. Lilith sees weakness in the expression of sympathy and compassion and often preys into these aspects via communication or even things as subtle as certain movements/mannerisms, speech patterns and eye movements to throw off their desired target. Sometimes the lies are harmless while other times they are dangerous and toxic although none of this really matters to the native. These natives aren’t heartless per say but their is an inherent disconnect in the manner that the mind and the heart interact; they don’t. you see Lilith places an almost tar like cable separating the two so she can have her fun, as emotions would interrupt her spiritual mingle so to speak. These natives enjoy vocal banter and sparring as they get to test out their new tactics(subtly of course) on others and test the efficiency. These natives are brilliant writers and can often easily decorate a paper with words and diction that would make a literary scholar and professor of 99 years drop to his knees in astonishment and awe. they can color their words in such a way that can both woo you and terrify you with it’s effect. Many with this placement have seductive voices and can easily charm your clothes off in such a way you could even feel taken advantage of. both sexes are dangerous in this regard because although they can create a pretty little portrait for you, they are secretly knitting you in their twisted and often thoroughly planned web. these natives aren’t plutonion the sense that they actively seek to control their conversations or interactions, rather they do so in such a quiet and sincerely relaxed way that it’s as if it’s instinct to naturally swirl a mass into a a joyed get together, a fight into a compliment fest, or a tragedy into a miracle. They are intellectually 100 steps and 100 lifetimes ahead of you which is what makes being in their presence such a sincerely scary thing as they tend to be alphas in any interaction with everyone around them taking the place of common folk, in the presence of a lord. A rejection of ones thoughts and ideas and even knowledge by the world is common. the arms tend to either be hairless or sporting some dark moles, and scars here and there that seemingly seem to curve into a moon like shape. Lilith working positive here awakens premonition and cerebral awareness that far exceeds the normal person.

(New Order - Elegia)

Lilith In The Fourth House : The Nomadic Evil

Two things should be mentioned be for we carry on, This is Lilith And what we are speaking on is how her presence can effect that particular area of your life by infusing it with her darker scheme but make no mistake where she lay is often the area of life that needs her power the most as to protect the native from being dogmatically bulldozed over by the treachery of the world, she is both a blessing and a great evil. In the case of the fourth house Lilith can make the home life practically non-existent. It can create detachment or loose ties with ones heritage or familial upbringing. In both men and women this aspect can show that the families history is often dark and full of lose of power and regaining of it in darker ways through sexual and emotional expression and this can involve much of the female side of the family. their can be an innate disdain for other women or MEN especially with this but it’s more common to have a disdain for the conventional Mother and Father dynamic if anything. This can make the native feel rejected when home, or as if they don’t really belong, or in some cases like home is not a real conceptual desire. the family itself can seem almost alienated and far, and much of the early interactions may have been tense, overwhelming or the women in the family could've been survivors of dark acts such as rape, murder, abuse, violence, and or anything that would’ve likely been the result of a man or society failing to give them aid. When Lilith rest here positively the above is still true but the connection to the divine feminine and women in general is passionate and endearing and instills a lot of inner will power and drive in the native. the chest can be very boney and rather tight with the way the nerves and organs coil together. so sharp chest pain, and chest compression is common due to anxiety or strong emotions. the heart can also suffer from palpation and sloppy rhythm yet miraculously the heart is in amazing condition and seems to do well enough on it’s own to fix any potentially fatal issues(still go to the doctor if any symptoms get worse though!) the native tends to express emotions in a cold and rather aloof manner and can have a very hard time flowing into their more nurturing qualities mainly because they were never really exposed to nurturing in the same sense most people are, they attribute caring and compassion to being sturdy, independent and steadfast anything other than that is useless and unnecessary. overly emotional or overly clingy types and unfortunately even children can be a very hard battle for these natives as it clashes with their essence. these natives despise intimacy and tend to prefer being alone as opposed to having to connect and get intimate with others. that being said these natives are emotional, and deeply so but this is hidden behind a wall of trauma and a very well created mask. the thing is though the mask isn’t to protect them or anything rather it’s an instinctual action to create distance and to raise themselves above those who would try to dig past their facade. They are rather powerful in nature and have almost demonic/fallen angel like emotions, often feeling wrath rather than rage, feeling pride instead of courage and feeling lust instead of love, these natives emotionally exist on a darker emotional plane than anyone would ever be able to fathom. They are by no means fiction and i tell you this because these natives are genuinely so hard to understand, like a complex myriad of fluttered wings and bloodshed, navigating their pain, and their hardships is nearly impossible and this only worsens the older they get as they periodically build more and more mazes. the mind set is often attentive but far away, they can seem like passerby’s and have a extremely closed of nature making things such as friends or lovers seem a bit difficult. they are caring but rarely ever feel as if anyone is worth the expression, they are warm, but very rarely are they willing to create a sun. these natives are mysterious but not for the “look” of it, mainly because they live in their darkness so much so that it is who they are, and if anything thats the beauty of this placement they are an innocent angel with the whitest glowing wings dancing in the dark all alone, in peace far away from the commitments of the world.

(Big Black Delta - Huggin & Kissin )

Lilith In The Fifth House : The Volcanic sin

Lilith in this house is a vortex of madness, she swarms and dances in the highways and the swamps, in search of god. She’s so angry and filled like a wine glass with sorrow and lament shouting endlessly for him to hear her pleads. She’s grieving constantly, for what seems never ending. always, constantly in pain, constantly burning her wings and re-birthing over and over each time becoming something else, something more, something darker than before. These natives are seemingly passive and bothered by the world around them, critiques of art, disgusted by the things humans passionately wave their fist in the air for, they always seem disappointed or lacking in amusement at the creations of man. these natives can brim with an almost colony of souls the moment they see that desired star power, that human pitfall where all seems lost and someone surpasses their own abilities and broken bones, and armless and all rises even still. these natives value fearlessness in the face of ones own demise and destruction, rising above adversary without wasting a moment to dwell in the sadness of the situation, art littered in pain or trauma and it’s massive weight or the intensity of someone being able to vocalize that pain and it’s darkening wave excites them. they adore man at it’s weakest moments and the fight it takes to come above those heavy waters once more. These natives can be almost demonically cold to weakness in others, turning a blind eye to someone crying or complaints of a hard life, they tend to ice out people with sob stories and even more so they tend to find complete disgust at those who sell their sob story to the masses and are worshiped for their own self pity. these natives are true seekers of sorrow and strength and it’s often why Lilith in this position is almost at the same strength as the Descendant in deciding whom these natives marry. The lover often is a cold one, dark, intense and one whom has witnessed their fair share of sorrows hence their more stoic and serious nature. the love life of these natives can be pure hell, as the romantic partners especially when younger may be attracted and even obsessed with the natives but upon the natives seeking to consummate or initiate the bond past the courting stage the lover can reject the native, coldly as if they were dirt and openly choose another, or avoid the native all together and in some extreme cases the lover could be abusive or monstrous all due to the fear and powerful emotions the native drudges up in the lover. much pain will be felt but many re-births will be the result, the natives get far more cold, far more intense and even more selective as they age. much of the rejection is due to the native unconsciously turning a blind eye to what Lilith is trying to show them within themselves. Lilith seeks to help these natives process their own pain, and to love from within rather than seek it through another person which is often why up until that is learned these natives are given nothing but hate, mis-treatment, and sorrow. The relationship with children can be healing surprisingly, Children often are afraid of these natives (at first) but as time progresses and these natives get older and harness their inner love children naturally gravitate towards them, seeing them as a source of fun and excitement, children are often very protective and fond of Lilith in the fifth house natives often showering them with love and support. the deeper alignment here is that the natives are constantly carrying an energy of sadness and are often disconnected with the world around them due to their incredibly high standards of what counts as passion, they don’t just want love they want to feel it like a raging fire in their souls until it leaves nothing but ash. they want to feel sadness like a suffocating and deafening tsunami on a deadly storm in the sea. they want to love heir children with the force of all mother united, to feel sex like a turbulent storm of water and fire crashing into the earth like molten rock and icy cool. Sexually keeping up with these natives is impossible, they move like a wrathful archangel and can be practically insatiable. Often times these natives tend to find their suitable lover sometimes between their early 20′s or mid 30′s in most cases it’s early 20′s during college or ladder adolescence as the sun is progressed into the incoming sign and its often mid 30′s following the Saturn return due to the fact that these two will be in a close interaction. the back can have moles, beauty marks or freckles or even just sport a few scars and a more darker skin tone than the rest of the body. the Body of these natives is AMAZING. these natives can seem to have model figures or have very naturally erotic bodies that can make even the most innocent person look like a sultry, she- witch the second the clothes come off. Dancing and writing tend to be past times for these natives and they can be some of the most erotic, and talented dances you could ever have the blessing of seeing. Singing and physical activities are also past times and these natives are very obsessed with the body and tend to gravitate towards more physical and martial art like sports, due to their inherent flexibility and natural stamina and vitality. the overall health is deviously good and these natives tend to have impeccable recovering abilities often mentally dealing with sicknesses. These natives can seem like they are constantly bored or unamused which can make them seem intimidating or hard to please which is often why people feel so uncomfortable or as if they must be on their best behavior around them, this includes people above them and children. many people may seem stiff or cautious around these natives due to how stoic and carnal their eyes can seem in disapproval. these natives internally feel a endless state of heartbreak and can suffer from drastic bouts of depression to episodes of euphoric highs only to come crashing down with the speed of a collapsing wave. things don’t necessarily improve rather these natives learn to take these up and down pitfalls and rise and even stronger version, a darker one than before.These natives are not easy to connect to and can be very hard to gain the time of but assuming you have what it takes they are extremely loyal and deeply sown to the ones they give their hearts too. Be careful how or what you say or do to their family, husband or kids they will annihilate you with the scorn of a trillion dead and their are no lengths they fear crossing.

(New Order - Blue Monday)

Lilith In The Sixth House : The Burning Lambs

This Position of Lilith can seem like a backdoor or a darkened curtain off to the side in the natives personality. They can demand an almost unrealistic and un-sympathetic tone to the less then polished things in the world around them. These natives crave perfection and this isn’t something that’s a simple as the clean room, and perfectly tucked shirt, or carefully honed smile, these natives need and desire perfection at it’s core in a almost spotless representation of themselves to the point of which they would rather annihilate all around them that fails to meet this high expectation. these natives condemn the more instinctual sides of man, preferring to use the mind as their highest calling. many find it difficult to work with others, preferring not only to go in alone but they enjoy the weight of taking on a duty even if it leaves them in shambles. These natives have a furious tenacity that makes them bloodthirsty for positions at work, and trying to compete with them will be a fruitless effort as much of their being and dark intellect come into the matter. in many ways they are beautiful, innocent and contrasting as much of their allure lay in their seemingly angelic and pure nature. these natives have a strong level of discipline and self restriction only second to their Lilith in Capricorn and 10th house brethren. These natives can have billions of fires and storms raging within yet present the polished car, sleek black dress and rose-marry scented smile in the phase of an entire gathering as if they weren’t impaled in the deepest of depressions moments before. a certain level of seriousness and intensity cloud these natives as more often then not they make it a point to remain objective, detached and eerily focused on the objective at hand. ignorance is blasphemy to the natives and often a source of immediate disapproval and disgusts. These natives are very intolerant of many things especially those whom are overly dependent on instinct rather than logic. These natives are incredibly sensual and pleasures can be multi-faced much like their minds. they tend to be their most sexually powerful in sexual situations of inequality. They may prefer more dominant or submissive sexual partners and have a strong need for their darkness to be expressed through sex on a constant basis otherwise frustration and mental agitation is the result. the problem here is that this can cause the underdeveloped types to get into relationships mainly for the sexual outlet rather than the emotional growth. They are immensely loyal, but very rarely ever do they commit to someone as many prefer to be alone. the masturbating tends to be aggressive and volcanic in nature and often times these natives have such an earthy and tense sexuality their co-workers and even people in their everyday lives may feel uncomfortable or sexually aroused around the person due to the power of projection. The stomach can have scars, or moles upon it in some cases or may be the source of frequent emotional upsets. the health can fluctuate and reach moments of life or death both figuratively and in reality. feeling reborn after fighting a illness is common even if it’s something as small as a cold. the animals that the native deals with can be Lilithian in nature and have darker more dangerous attributes. the animals will have powerful personalities and will be treated as an equal by the Lilith person. Hunting animals for sport or having a more grudgingly relationship with animals is common here. These natives are incredibly resilient and steady but have a very inner ward pestilence that causes them to despise reliance or support of any kind.

(Hozier - Dinner & Diatribes )

Lilith In The Seventh House : The God In we, The Devil In Me

This position of all Lilith in the Houses is One of the most paradoxical and the most devastating. These natives are like a violent wheel of chance, filled with endless possibilities of both malefic and benevolent inclination. These natives can be the sweetest drop of honey, the warmest embrace and the lover of your fantasies dressed as human. They can be your wickedest nightmare, deepest wound and most prolific demon inhabiting your body and mind. They have a level of control on their environment that would put Scorpio to shame, a level of cunning that would silence Virgo and Gemini and an almost biblical like understanding of the human brain and it’s reactions, it’s fears, it’s pitfalls, and it’s quiet longings in such a way that Sagittarius and Capricorn would fall prey. the manipulation can be quiet and a bit hidden in it’s expression but it happens, sometimes unconsciously, other times in the light of day. these natives no matter how lighthearted their chart or how many grand trines and castle of Davids will have a very unbalanced inner world, fluctuating from nun to sinner. to many outsiders these natives are adorably understanding and patient, arguably the most giving and sacrificing person you’d ever meet but behind the sweetness these natives are deeply self invested and in many ways this isn’t a bad thing but it’s also a means of self preservation at the expense of others. These natives seem closer and more intimate then they actually intend and are one of the most difficult people to get to open up or trust you as they prefer to keep much of their interactions superficial and easy. Deeper connections are usually saved for potential love interest or marriage partners but they more than most people get to meet an entirely different beast. these natives can attract heavily Lilith aspected lovers whom are dark, tantric, intense and downright possessive and sexually demanding like hungry animals. The native themselves can project their own shadow side onto the people they interact with platonically or romantically which can create a hypocritical “why are you acting like that” mentality when the truth is that they themselves are the source of the heavy seated Lilith energy. This house is most dangerous as the natives tend to get that much more intense and dark when married, expressing their “real” self, the sinner, Persephone, the black witch, the fallen angel free of shackled purity. They can end up with marriage partners or lovers who seem completely opposite of them or rather a complete 360. the lover may have tattoos, work in a taboo field of work or the music industry funeral homes, a rock-star/musician, porn,martial arts, or drug trafficking and money laundering, running a prostitution rink, selling drugs, or things like hunting, poaching, lucrative work, government work, FBI, Military and so on. The partner is often serious and Intense but LOYAL. The native can be co-dependent and attract co-dependent relationships which are more dangerous here because of the Lilith like theme. The natives can be seductive and so sexually provocative that many people who may not even be that sexual are actively aroused or turned on by the Lilith in the 7th person, often caught up in their sultry atmosphere to the point where many may be in fear, or disdain of the natives effect on them. The other lot, married, committed or otherwise who cannot help themselves develop strong obsessions with these natives. Love is death for these natives and it needs to be littered with obsession, paranoia, possession, hate, love, intensity, pain, loss, rebirth and struggle for them to truly value it, although they may intentionally reject this and seek more peaceful unions, deep down in their heart of hearts they need that chaos to mend the woes and trios of faces and inhibitions tied to love and romance for them. The buttocks and back can be incredible. the natives may have birthmarks on the butt or darker skin on the area, men may have a hairy buttocks while both sexes may have a mole or scar of some sort here. the waist and hips flow like water and can make these natives excellent at riding or rather make cowgirl-reverse-cowgirl positions their favorites. these natives are dangerously seductive and can set a whole room of men and women in under their spell as this is a gender less sexuality expressed here often sucking up any unlucky fool who dares to gaze their way. the tell tale of these natives is their deep stare, it can feel like god is looking upon you, as if the devil is entrancing you, they seem like a taboo decision that will change your life and leave it in tethers.

( Allan Rayman - Crush)

Lilith In The Eighth House : The Way we speak to the fallen

Lilith is happy here, she resonates with Hades and Pluto, she understands their loss and contempt, their lament and dutiful weight. These natives can seem magnetic without much effort. much of their movement and reaction is stalled and cautious, yet never in a way that brings to much attention to them or their actions. They are observant and still much like a spider knitting it’s web and patiently waiting for that one impulsive mistake or haphazardly movement. They are cunning researchers of human nature, often playing fortuneteller when it comes to mingling with others. Their sexuality can feel like a heavy wave devouring you in a atmospheric way. they can be around you, next to you and above you all in one instant without moving an inch. Their personality is deep but mysterious as much of their real feelings and sexual desires are hidden behind screen doors and cleverly manipulated traps set to seduce or adhere those around them. These natives prefer the -nonchalant and rather un-bothered mode of emotional expression as much of their darker or more wild nature is focused and centered only on sex.Lilith here grants these natives the ability to use their darker more traumatic experiences as an battery for their rebirth. The worst in life slides of these natives like tar and from the tar rises a new silky smooth pair of wings with an even tougher exo-skeleton. the ability to heal the pain in themselves and in others is one of their best qualities as they are strongly sympathetic and patient with the darkness and pain in others. Lilith in the 8th house more than most people are deeply aware how trauma and pain can make us lash out or self destruct as a means of regaining control and as a result these natives are the least reactive to emotional displays or darker manipulation or coercive tactics by others. In all honesty these natives feel pity for such people and do what they can to rise above them. These natives aren’t as manipulative or as power hungry as Lilith in Scorpio and tend to prefer love unions built on respect and equality, they just prefer to have control in the bedroom, but have a very open and ardent nature to the sexual ventures in general. sex is VERY important to these natives but they don’t mind waiting years or decades if it means they could find the right person who satisfies their inner sexual need of being respected and recognized as a sexual being and “loved” for it. Here we see Lilith desire to be seen and recognized for her sexuality rather than cast out for her pride in it. these natives are very sensitive towards sexual partners and tend to have deep marriages as they work very hard to maintain the sexual chemistry and love in the union all the while force-ably putting the relationship through upheavals and moments of spiritual and emotional rebirth. These natives are mainly gifted with matters of inheritance and joint business dealings but can still attract money in rather taboo or off the script like fashions. The sexual partner may be the only person these natives share their money or savings with and the family may come second or not at all depending on the relationship with the mother. Many outsiders can be obsessed with the energy of these natives often acting like fan-girls/boys at the acknowledgement of the native which typically puts them off and rather disgust them. These natives fall for the unassuming or the lighthearted free spirits who see the light in everything. the ones with Lilith towards the end of this house prefer more stoic and intense lovers. The genitalia is FIRE! quite literally, men and women with this position have sexual organs that can bring the crazy out of a mountain. They can be very passionate and deep sexually, and will be one of the most biblical experiences you’ve ever had.

( Das Rocs - Maybe, I)

Lilith in The Ninth House : The God You Did Not Believe In

Lilith in the 9th is as massive as the solar system, seeking to spread her wings over all the neatly tucked books, and scriptures, digging her nails in the spoken word and rearranging it’s tones and vibrations to her sense of grandeur. Lilith here is the grand passion and the mighty mind of man. she sees fun and joy in the merriment of dancing in the knowledge and origin of the world and very rarely will you ever catch these natives poorly informed about any subject matter as they do much work to ensure that they know the where,why, how and when of the worlds history. They can seem arrogant or entranced in their own knowledge to the point of stepping on the ideas and thoughts of others. They can have an air of supremacy and carry an air of resistance or loathing of universities or higher schooling in general deeming it as a barrier to delving deeper into knowledge. others tend to dive head first into higher schooling to an almost obsessive quality, treating it like some insatiable candy they cannot get enough of, often returning to get multiple certifications and degrees just because they know they can. these natives have a strong dislike of strings attached or chains of obligations which makes them very unreliable and rather arms length in many of their interactions. to them sex and romance, life and death, love and hate should be experienced like an expansive adventure, a gift from the demons gods of hell to live as you please and grow beyond measure. The emotions can fly UP and DOWN, HERE and THERE but they are never consistent as these natives are always heading to the next spiritual obsession. Lilith here is free, SO endlessly free and she hates being all cooped up in a boring, stagnate environment which is often why these natives can seem like birds, and many share a strong understanding or compassion of winged creatures. The thighs can be darker than other parts of the body, have scars or moles or in many cases the thighs are often plump and thick depending on how deep Lilith sits in this house. the sexual arousal can be VERY fast for these natives, especially the men. they are turned on by the uncharted and many men with this placement love sex so much that they fuck men and women, anyone that has that sexy air of inhibition is everything they’ve been begging for. the foreign travels can be to darker lands, and might involve danger, death or turbulence of some kind so its advised to be safe, and very aware of yourself and others when ever you head out of the country. Lilith is VERY bubbly here so it’s no surprise that this Lilith is one of the hardest to spot.

(New Order - Vanishing Point)

Lilith In The Tenth House : The Suited Black Paint

Lilith here is operating in the cold black visor, the feathers loose and sparingly dancing cross the corporate office like jet black paint. These natives can Seem like a cold shower, or some devastatingly subtle but violent train crash with a almost quiet disharmonious backdrop. The ambitious nature of these natives is their strong suite but also one of their most dangerous past times. these natives seek the top and can often use their black wings to blow away the competition, sometimes through charm, manipulation, scandals, black- mail, sexual liaisons or downright intimidation. These natives prefer to be in charge and don’t stay in the passenger seat of any corporation, business, activity for very long as their natural desire to sit on top triumphs above all else. Their careers can be of Lilith like nature or just be drenched in Lilith like themes, such as sexual objectification which is especially the case with women or, emotional black-mail, power plays and power trips or downright psycho-analytics. These natives are often seen as a threat by their colleagues and in true Lilith story line fashion the workers can act as god and attempt to cats him or her out of the workplace, in some ways out of fear and in others out of jealousy. Many times over the bosses or corporate peers can be perverted, dubious and false in their intent. The natives tend to have a ridiculously thick skin and easily create emotional block aids and emotional barriers as a means of alienating their issues and problems as opposes to facing them. this is not done out of a fear of what they feel, rather to them the time necessary to deal with their emotional issues is time that could be used getting ahead. these natives can be filthy in the means that they go about rising in the ranks and can be even more cold and aloof to lovers whom fail to showcase ambition or a grounded and realistic outlook on their future. These aren’t the types to marry dreamers or people who spend more time talking about their future than creating it. These natives bare Lilith disdain for the lord and because of this they tend not to place things in the hand of chance or prayer, rather they believe in actively going out to create the destiny and circumstance they desire. These natives often have a hard relationship with the father or one that is strained in some way, this can even be a step father or male relative of some kind. their is an inability to submit to the darker expression of their sexuality emotionally rather, they remain objective and steady sexually even when it’s something that should be expressed in a relaxed and calm way. Due to this their sexuality can be very BDSM and Power play friendly, they like to feel in control or be completely controlled by their sexual partners and this can sometimes be in such a way that the natives need to feel emasculated or pain in order to feel ‘alive” though this behavior is only in extreme versions. Much of the darker energy of Lilith is projected towards racing to the top, a insurmountable hill that never seems to end. these natives don’t realize that Lilith is trying to overcompensate for her perceived short comings and is on an endless tirade to prove(god) of her worthiness and power but in reflection to the natives this symbolizes a inner feeling of being inadequate or lacking in worth via their environment and their familial upbringing that is to be addressed before the native becomes engulfed in Lilith Dogma. these natives are as harsh as granite and can often struggle with the softer expression of sex and intimacy as they naturally detach and shut down emotionally from these things out of an instinctual need. That said the relationship with the children unlike their fourth house counterpart is not nearly as strained and is actually very close knit and loving. These natives give their children the world almost to compensate for what the native lacked as they themselves grew up. the kids come first in their lives, before the marriage partner and this can often cause a ripple in their marriages and one they don’t typically care to fix. these natives tend to have sharp peaks and ridges in the bone and can have rather great bone structure. under eye bags or just tightly clenched resting faces is common, beautiful smiles but these natives usually try not to smile in public.

(New Order - Leave Me Alone)

Lilith In The Eleventh House : The Millions of Lost Souls

Lilith here is Many but also few. Here Lilith understands the human psyche, she understands its’s pains because she understand the worlds pain, she sees it’s cycle. These natives are Em-paths and have a very difficult time separating their woes from the woes of others. These natives can feel the emotions of others in such an intense way that it often feels like a shock or jolt that can energize or deplete them. These natives have a keen ability of harmonizing with whatever environment you place them in but can also create chaos there by crowding up the energies. Lilith here is like a battery constantly debilitating and then re-vitalizing the area around her postivley or negativity afflicting her environment. These natives tend to attract Lilith like friends whom are often, serious, sultry, provocative, reckless, anarchist, aggressive, shady, mysterious or downright evil. These natives are not naive, and tend to be very aware of their energy and how it manifest as a great many with this placement take on a very nomadic and free spirit. Many like to wear chakra stones, and jewelry that furthers their individualistic expression. The ankles and calves of the native tend to be darker then the rest of the body or remarkably sturdy. they may still have scars or just a abnormality to them. These natives make excellent runners and many gravitate towards the sport whilst others may pick up singing or artistic expression. Lilith here is more passive than she is a troublemaker, choosing more so to lay low and experiment with her own individual self then that of others. these natives can express themselves in ways that can turn society upside down, or greatly challenge the status quo. Gender normalties are lost on these natives as they don’t really identify themselves as anything in particular, rather they are energy, constantly shifting through the cosmos. These natives have a sharp tongue that can quickly turn poisonous yet they don’t actively rely on it. Due to Lilith being so self invested in this house very rarely will the dark side of this native produce any dangerous or malefic habits, rather they will seem calm and vulnerable to the world around them. sexually they can be very quirky and new-ons. they see intimacy as a gate way to exploring their raw and darker angel and transverse sexuality in stride. that being said these natives are very odd and perplexing in matters of romance and sex and can easily fly back and forth between wants and needs sexually as Lilith is really just testing the waters. the mind is deep but depressive and these natives can suffer mighty highs and strange lows from nowhere but never anything that debilitates them. these natives are very kind and balance self centered and people centered quite naturally through the help of Lilith.

(New Order - Guilty Partner)

Lilith In The Twelfth House : The Clouds where she Scram A Mighty Scream

Lilith in this house is chaos, the reasoning being that Lilith in this house is grappling with the idea of undoing and self manifested characterization. Lilith doesn’t face her actions she seeks to free herself from them and in karmic fashion the evil in her is sent spiraling back at her. These natives are sensual, calm, intimate, healing, clairvoyant, em-paths, spiritualist, pacifist, slaves of justice and human weakness yet they also manifest as unstable, counter-productive, stagnate, false, and stuck in their escapism. These natives are so afraid of themselves that it becomes an unconscious struggle between their Lilith and them as a person. this aspect plays out like a Demonic possession. The person can feel entangled, low energy, or bouts of hedonism, sexual obscurity, impulsive action, and substance abuse that are all out of character. The thing here is that Lilith in her attempt to commit a grand escape has a chain caught on the native causing her woes and anguishes to be randomly transferred to the native. in many ways this can create an alter ego for the native as the native gets hit with personality shifts that progressively deepen as they get older. the dreams can be very LILITH like and the mind itself and it’s inner psyche can feel like hovering voices, paranoia and dreams of sharing or not being in control of ones on desires and feelings or even actions. This aspect can create a person who can seem moody and unpredictable, especially when the urge to detach and disengage pops in, it can be impossible to stop these natives. the sexuality falls on a spectrum like with all humans but with Lilith's inhabitants their can be an unconscious desire to stay celibate or an association of trauma with sex. Men and women here could've been sexually abused or taken advantage of and their can be issues surrounding the “yes” or “no, i don’t want to” in sex that can make it a very blurred area for the native. Lilith may want aggression, passion and complete domination but the person may not truly resonate or desire that and may feel appalled or fear if the personalities switch during sex. these natives NEED a sensitive and compassionate lover who will guide them and nurture them, lovers who are chosen during the Lilith persona tend to worsen and deepen the wounds of this person causing a higher frequency of escapism. I CANNOT stress enough that parents who have kids with this placement, please ensure your child is well aware of the dangers of sex and try to keep them somewhat grounded in the area as some of the emotional trauma can start very early and these natives do sadly attract the worse of the worse mainly due to how violent and angry Lilith is to be resting in this house. the natives can be seductive but its never intended, they can be provocative but it’s never something they are aware of. these natives are a mirror of the person who views them and can be a dream or nightmare but that is the power of Lilith here, even in her escape she creates a shadow in the clouds that can be anything the heart fears or wishes. these natives can sleep for LONG hours and have a hard time waking up. The nightmares tend to be hard for them to awake from and can make the natives fear going to sleep all together. Insomnia is another manifestation later in life but is not the norm. the brain is powerful but repressed. the natives can be highly sensitive to hospitals or jails and usually attributes jails to danger and naturally stay away from them and out of trouble. these natives have a natural distrust of hospitals and vice versa as in many cases things go array or seem shadier than they should. that being said later in life hospitals are crucial for the native and therapy in it’s own way is very healing for the native. the desire to use sex as a coping mechanism is a dangerous possibility here and one that should be avoided at all costs. these natives are lovers not fighters and that is their loveliest quality but also their biggest weakness. unlike the other houses whom are fusions between the natives and Lilith this house is the only house besides the 11th house in which 11th and the native are separate and because of the natives emotional nature, Lilith readily devours them. These natives must learn to fight otherwise they will fall victim to Lilith's heavy presence. through their battle with Lilith these natives become remarkably strong, often powerful spiritualist and even stronger at protecting themselves from dark energy in their later years.

#Mine #Lilith in the houses

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warsofasoiaf · 4 years

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Have you played Fallout 4? What did you think of it?

Joseph Anderson had a phenomenal video on Fallout 4. Although it is enormous, so be careful. Overall, there were things to like and things not to like about Fallout 4. I’ll start with what I liked first. Throwing a cut in here because it’s long.

Combat in the first-person Fallout games has always been clunky, and enemy AI relatively largely consisted of straight charging or shooting from as maximum range as possible. Difficulty came primarily from enemy quantity, high damage output, or incredibly enemy hitpoints. The last of these has been a particular Bethesda problem in their games, with enemies being incredible damage sponges, making late-game fights a boring slog as you slowly whittle down their health while being impossible to damage in any meaningful capacity. While enemy variations aren’t nearly as high as the game’s fans would have you believe if you conceive of them as AI patterns, the AI activity did have some nice variations. Human enemies used cover, ghouls bobbed and weaved as you shot them, mole rats tried to ambush you. It’s got nothing on games with fully realized combat system, but it does make the combat that you do engage in much more enjoyable.

All of the random crap you can pick up in a Bethesda game having a purpose is another positive. It is a true nuisance to find out when playing a game that I hit my encumbrance limit only to find out it’s because I’ve picked up a bunch of brooms, bowls, and other garbage accidentally while grabbing coin and other worthwhile treasures. Actually having these things mean an object is worthy mechanically, aside from level design; typewriters are useful as items as opposed to something that shows you that the ruined building you’re in was formerly a newspaper. As crafting is a big portion of the game, having these things provide component parts that you use for crafting on their own creates more utility in these elements of clutter which still require modeling, rendering, placement, etc. Now if you need aluminum, you’ll try to raid something like a cannery because it will have aluminum cans, which is an excellent way to create player-generated initiative. It also reinforces one of the primary themes of the game which is crafting and design, where even the trailers of the game suggest building as a key idea of the game. Certainly sensible for a post-apocalyptic game to focus on building a new society upon the ruins of the older one, and given what the game was trying to do with their four factions mechanic, it’s clear that this was their intent, and good job for trying to ensure that things factor back into their principal intent.

Deathclaws look properly scary, the animations with Vault Boy were funny, there’s some pretty window dressing. The voice work wasn’t bad, the notable standout being Nick Valentine. The Brotherhood airship was an impressive visual. I had a little fun creating some basic settlements, particularly in Hangman’s Alley where I tried to create a network of suspended buildings and Spectacle Island where I had room to grant every prospective settler a shack. Bethesda clearly looked to create a game with mass market appeal, and I believe the metrics bears out that they succeeded in that regard. The robots in the USS Constitution quest were very funny, the writers were able to make the absolute ridiculousness of the situation work (curse you Weatherby Savings and Loan!) and framed it well as a comedic sidequest, with a final impressive visual if you side with the bots and the ship takes flight.

Now that this is out of the way, I think that a lot of what Fallout 4 did was not the right move.

The quest design was particularly atrocious in this regard. Most of the radiant quests boiled them down to a simple formula - go to the dungeon, get to the final room where you need to either kill the boss or get an item from the boss chest, return. In this game though, the main story quests often were boiled down to just this simple formula. You need to find a doodad from a Courser to complete your teleporter? Go to the dungeon, kill the boss, recover the item. The Railroad needs you to help an escaped synth! Do it by going to the dungeon and getting to the final room. This really hampers the enjoyment of games because the expressiveness of the setting and elements of an RPG is often explored through quests. Quests are meant to get you out into the world and give you an objective, but they are also meant to connect you to the people that you’re dealing with. If every quest is boiled down to the same procedure, that hurts the immersion, but the bigger sin is that when you return you have another quest waiting for you. That robs the player of the sense of accomplishment because there is no permanent solution to problems, even for a minute. There is no different end-state for the player to see the transition from one to the other and feel accomplished that they were the ones who did it. Other RPG’s always understood this - a D&D game might have a party save a town investigate an illness dealing with a town, take out an evil druid who has charmed the wildlife into attacking supply and trade shipments, slay goblins who are raiding cattle, there are a lot of possibilities that might even feel samey: if you’re killing charmed dire wolves or goblin cattle thieves, you’re still going to the dungeon and fighting the boss, the usual flair and variation came from encounter design. After you’d do that though, the NPC’s might say “Hey, Mom is feeling better after you cured that disease, she’s starting to walk again,” “Hey, we were able to send a shipment of wine from the vineyards out to the capital, here’s some coin for the shipment as reward for your service,” or even just a simple “Hey, thanks for taking out those cattle thieves.” There’s a sense of accomplishment even if it’s a fleeting “we did a cool thing.” Computer RPG’s are tougher in this regard, part of the sense of accomplishment in tabletop gaming is also with your friends, it’s a shared activity, but usually in that the reward was some experience and character growth and going to new content. There isn’t new content here in Fallout 4 though, because of the samey quest design and lack of progression.

The conversational depth was also ruined, with so much of the voice choices mangled by the system of conversation they designed. By demanding a four-choice system, they limited themselves to always requiring four options which completely mangled interactivity. The previous menu design allowed for as many lines as you wanted, even if the choices were usually beads on a string. The depth and variation, however, are even lower than what could be found in games like Mass Effect 3, and the small word descriptions were often so inaccurate that it created a massive disconnect between myself the player and the Sole Survivor, because they weren’t saying what I thought they would be saying. That prevented me from feeling immersed, because a “Sarcastic” option could be a witty joke or a threat that sounds like it should come out of a bouncer. The character options were already limited, with Nate being a veteran and Nora being a lawyer, but this lack of depth prevents me from feeling the character even moreso than a scripted backstory. You get those in games, but being unable to predict how I’m reacting is something that kills character.

Bethesda needs to end the “find (x) loved one” as a means to get people motivated to do a quest, or if they don’t want to rid themselves of that tool in their toolbox, they need to do a better job getting me to like them. More linear games can get away with this, but open world games encourage the sort of idle dicking around that doesn’t make any sense for a person who is attempting to find a family member. Morrowind did this much better, where your main task was to be an Imperial agent, and you were encouraged to join other factions and do quests as a means to establish a cover identity and get more acquainted with combat. Folks who didn’t usually ended up going to Hasphat Antabolius and getting their face kicked in by Snowy Granius. Here though, what sort of parent am I if instead of pursuing a lead to find my infant son I’m wandering over east because I saw what looked like a cool ruin, and I need XP to get my next perk (another gripe, perks that are simple percentage increases because they slow down advancement and make combat a slog if you don’t take them, depressing what should be a sense of accomplishment). By making us try to feel close with a character but by refusing to give us the players time with them, there is no sense of bonding. I felt more connection to James in Fallout 3 than I did for Sean, but even then, I felt more connection to him because he was voiced by Liam Neeson than because of any sense of fatherly affection. The same goes for the spouse and baby Sean, I feel little for them because I see them only a little. I know that I should care more, but I also know that I the player don’t because all that I was given is “you should care about them.” You need time to get to know characters in game, along with good writing and voicework. I like Nick because he quoted “The Raven” when seeing the Brotherhood airship and I thought that was excellent writing, I didn’t have any experiences with Sean to give me that same sense of bonding.

They’ve also ruined the worldbuilding. The first-person Fallout games have always had a problem with this, with Fallout 3 recycling Super Mutants, the Brotherhood of Steel, and other iconic Fallout things into Washington D.C. Part of this is almost certainly the same reason that The Force Awakens was such a dull rehash of the plot of A New Hope, they wanted to establish some sort of continuity with a new director to not frighten off old fans who they relied on to provide a significant majority of the sales. The problem of course, is that this runs into significant continuity problems, now needing Vault 87 to have a strain of FEV and having a joint Vault-Tec/US Government experiment program there on the East Coast, so we can have Super Mutants. Jackson’s chameleon isn’t native to Washington D.C., but we need to have Deathclaws because they’re the iconic scary Fallout enemy, as opposed to creating something new with the local fauna, which is only made worse because they did do that with the yao guai formed from the American black bear (the black bear doesn’t typically range in the Chesapeake Basin near DC these days, but it’s close enough and given the loss of humans to force them back they could easily return to their old pre-human rangings). Some creatures are functions of the overall setting and can be global, ghouls are the big one here since radiation would be a global thing and fitting considering Fallout is a post-apocalypse specifically destroyed by nuclear war. Others though, are clearly mutated creatures and so they would be more localized. Centaurs and floaters were designed by FEV experiments and collared by Super Mutants, they should really only be around Super Mutants. Radscorpions shouldn’t be around, there would probably be instead be mutated spiders. Making things worse are that the monster designers do develop some excellent enemies when they think about it. Far Harbor has a mutant hermit crab that uses a truck as a shell (a lobster restaurant truck, which is passable enough for a visual joke even if it falls apart when you think about other trucks that they might use) and a monster that uses an angler lure that resembles a crafting component - these are good ideas but the developers needed to awkwardly shoehorn in iconic Fallout things that have no place there. This isn’t to say that I’m in love with a lot of Fallout’s worldbuilding, a lot of the stuff in Fallout 2 I found to be kind of dumb particularly the talking deathclaws, but as the series went on it took objects without meaning. The G.E.C.K in Fallout 3 was pretty much a magic recombinator which makes no sense as a technology in a world devastated by resource collapse, something similar can be said about the Sierra Madre vending machines.

Fallout 4 though, had a lot of worldbuilding inconsistencies that really took an axe to the setting. The boy in the fridge outlasts the entire Great War, but apparently never needed to eat or drink water. This is, of course, stupid, because ghouls have always been shown to need to eat and drink - Fallout 1′s Necropolis section has a Water Chip but if you take it without finding an alternate source of clean water, the ghouls will die. Ghoul settler NPC’s that flock to your player-crafted towns require food and water. The entire thing was ruined from a complete lack of care, to build a quest where you reunite a lost boy with his still-alive ghoulified parents. I think this one bothers me not simply because of the egregious worldbuilding which isn’t even consistent in the very game it’s written it, but it’s done so frivolously for a boring escort quest. It feels scattershot, and that’s the problem I think with a lot of Fallout 4′s quests. They feel disconnected, like every writer worked in a cubicle without talking to any of the other writers. Same with things like the Lady in the Fog.

Are we done with that? Good, because now we’re going into the parts that I really dislike - the main quest and the factions. These are just awful. The developers took what folks really liked when it came to Fallout 2 and Fallout: New Vegas (Fallout 1 did have interesting factions but they were largely self-contained, more towns than anything else) and completely botched it. New Vegas was the clear inspiration for these factions, with the four faction model of NCR, Legion, House, and Indepenedent meaning that there were four different ways to go forward into the future, so we get three factions that fight each other and a fourth more player friendly faction that roughly resembles the Independent Vegas where you can pick and choose which factions you bring in with you and which you get rid of. Thematically, this fits in with the core of the game, crafting is a big portion of what you do and so crafting what sort of world the Commonwealth would be is simply a logical extension of it. The factions aren’t presented well though. The Railroad are impossibly naive and don’t demonstrate any rougher edges like denying supplies to humans in order to fuel their synth effort, even though such a thing should be evident if the post-apocalypse of the Commonwealth is to be believed. The Institute are sinister murderers and replacers without bringing any of the advanced technology that could provide some benefit such as the gigantic orange gourd that can grow. So much of their kill-and-replace mentality seems to be done for no great overarching purpose. The Minutemen are basically blank, pretty much just a catch-all for the player-built settlements, though the player as the leader of the Minutemen ends up getting bossed around by Preston to the point of the faction rejecting your commands to proceed with the main quest, a significant problem with Bethesda factions where you are the leader but never get any actual sense of leadership. There doesn’t appear to be any addressing of the failures of the previous Minutemen whether that be the previous summit, or new problems such as settlements feuding with each other requiring the general to intervene and mediate. The Brotherhood come the closest to a real faction with advantages and drawbacks if you squint, they are feudal overlords with the firepower to fight Super Mutants and other mutated nasties, but also violently reject ghouls and synths as part of their violent dogma except for seemingly not caring when you bring a companion around or killing ghoul settlers in settlements they control. But even then, we don’t really see the Brotherhood providing protection to the settlements that they demand for food, the typical radiant quest to destroy a pack of feral ghouls or super mutants is directed from a Brotherhood quest giver to a randomly determined location, hardly a good way to illustrate whether or not the Brotherhood is actually protecting settlements that they administer. We see little change in the way of the Commonwealth save that certain factions are alive or not because the game needs to stay active in order to perform radiant quests, so not even the signature ending slideshows can give us the illusion of effects building off of our actions. This is contrary to the theme of building a better world in the Commonwealth because there is no building.

Special notice must be given to the Nuka-World raiders because they show the big problems with the factions. You can be a Raider in Nuka-World but only after becoming the Overboss, which is fair enough. But you’re already a Minuteman, but the Minutemen don’t activate any kill-on-sight order and Preston still helps you out. The game is so terrified of people losing out on content that they make permanent consequences rare, and when you do something like order an attack, it can be rescinded automatically if one of your companions is there. As an Overboss, you do grunt work in the Commonwealth, and the factions get mad and pissy if you don’t give them things despite even if you only give one section of the park to one of the factions, that’s more than they got from Colter. It’s like they don’t exist until the player shows up, which is exactly how a lot of modern Bethesda character and faction building seems to be. While in most computer games a sort of uneasy status quo is the desired beginning state because it gives the protagonist the chance to make ripples while justifying the existence of a status that allows the player to change it, it has to be applied consistently.

The main quest itself is silly. There’s a decent twist with Sean becoming Father that sort of works, which would have worked much better if we had actually gotten a chance to bond with him, although the continuity of everything gets wiggy quick. When he said that he looked over the world and saw nothing but despair, I was wondering if they were going to actually bring a big question up and a debate between Father and the Player, the idea of what worth the people on the surface have, but it goes nowhere, it’s a missed opportunity. The main quest is just a means to meet all four factions and it’s a barebones skeleton at best. There are some interesting concepts they try, but what they do often falls flat. They try to establish some sort of empathy for Kellogg in the memory den, but it’s lazy and cheap because he kidnaps a baby and wastes your spouse, a wasted effort of empathy only made worse when you get criticized for not showing any sympathy. Kellogg then shows up in Nick’s memory for one second and then that little story nugget is ignored. The half-baked nature of the story keeps being brought back up, which is a pity because we actually saw them do a competent job in Far Harbor. The Followers of Atom are crazy and they really aren’t sympathetic in any way, but some of the folks inside the sub aren’t so bad that it might prevent you from wanting to detonate the sub, or at least you might think enough that you look for another solution. DiMA did some monstrous things, and if you bring him to justice, the game actually takes the time to evaluate whether or not you helped out Far Harbor, with meaningful consequences being taken if you took the time to do the sidequests which imparts far more meaning to them.

While there’s a lot of problems that show up in terms of binary completion, the question of whether to replace Tektus and turn the Children of Atom to a more moderate path is a good question, it actually gives a lot more merit to the Institute if they were ever to have been shown to enact the same level of care. That only makes the Fallout problems stand out more, because it shows that they were capable of it but didn’t. This isn’t the only missed opportunity, synths themselves become a big problem. The goal was to create a very paranoid feeling but it was so sorely under-utilized that I never grew suspicious of folks because the game never gave me enough incentive to be suspicious of them. I didn’t think that Bethesda made synths that would give you false information or ambush you because that would have been potentially missed content. The idea of whether you are a synth or not is clearly an attempt to give the game more depth than it is presenting. You’re not a synth, Father’s actions make no sense if you are one, and DiMA attempting to make you think you are is silly because you know you aren’t one.

I think the game would have been much better if they had dropped the notion of Fallout entirely. If they had instead looked to create an open-world post-apocalyptic game focusing on crafting and building towns, perhaps with an eventual goal state of building many towns, establishing transportation networks, and rebuilding a junkyard society as a decent place (or going full Mad Max Bartertown complete with a Thunderdome for players looking for an evil and over-the-top option). That might have been an interesting game for Bethesda to potentially develop a new IP, even contracting with smaller studios for those who wish to tell story-heavy games in the setting. Instead, they applied Fallout like a bad paint job, cobbling together weak RP elements and story that made the game feel like a hydra that couldn’t recognize it was one being with multiple heads, constantly tearing the other parts of itself to ribbons.

If I wanted to further improve it, I think I would have instead made the spouse a synth. It would require some serious reworking, but I would have made it so that Sean did believe that synths were people, or that they were real enough that the difference was negligible, they had free will. During the initial grab, the Institute took the entire cryopod where Sean was, baby and parent both. They used Sean to create the next generation of synths, but something happened with the parent, and they died during defrost. Sean hates the Institute for what they did, but what happened was truly a medical complication, not malicious in any way. When he learns that the player character is active, he creates a synth programmed to believe they are the spouse. He believes that exposing who he really is to the surviving parent would be traumatic, and as he hears that the player character is thriving, he wants to give them a chance at a normal life, and to alleviate the loss that he had in his life with the loss of his own parents. So the spouse is sent to you, and for a long time, you and the spouse have no idea. You adventure together, you build settlements together, the game encourages you to have a good relationship. It doesn’t have to be hunky dory, and I’d argue it’s actually better if it’s not. Have the spouse be programmed with some rough experiences in the Wasteland, so they’re nervous, skittish, maybe even a little resentful that the player character snoozed their way through everything, but slowly rebuild the relationship. That way, when the quest eventually comes where you find the truth, the player character has to confront that reality. Then when you confront Sean, Sean explains himself and the player is given the choice to forgive him, be understanding but still angry, or be hugely pissed at the manipulation. That’s drama that uses the core theme of what synths are about with the whole kill-and-replace motif the Institute does. There’s a plot twist that batters the player, there’s one that’s just messy and gross and tough to reconcile. There’s one where the conclusion the player comes to is valid because it’s the player themselves deciding what the meaning of it is.

So overall, I see Fallout 4 as a bunch of missed opportunities and clumsy writing wrapped up in the popular shallow open-worlds that triple-A games end up having.

Thanks for the question, Jackie.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#fallout 4 #fallout #video game reviews

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reggiejworkshop · 4 years

Text

Animaniacs: The Trip (part 2)

It was in the middle of the morning as the beautiful sun shone directly over the Warner Bros studio in Burbank. Everyone was out and about, enjoying the day. However, three people were not taking advantage of this.

"Oh, here it comes!" Yakko groaned.

Both Wakko and Dot winced as they heard their brother heave for the third time in a row. They would have been more sympathetic had his puking not sounded like the Tasmanian Devil trying to sing death metal. The sound almost made them want to puke again for themselves. Yakko finally came out of the bathroom, a wave of relief spread across his face.

"Who thought it looked better going out than in?" he groaned.

"I don't get it, I thought it would have tasted a lot better than that" Wakko said, confused that he made a food item that he himself couldn't stomach. He along with the rest of his siblings' mouths were still burning.

"Well, now that nightmare is over, what should we do today sibs?" Yakko asked with a peppy tone.

"Let's go see what our favorite psychiatrist is up too." Dot proposed.

"Good idea" Wakko added.

The Warners climbed down the tower. The bright rays from the mole tipped sun beaming down upon them. They reached Dr. Scratchensniff's office in no time at all.

"Oh, Scratchy!" the trio chirped. They stood outside the door to his office, waiting for him to shoo him away. But nothing came.

"Scratchensniff?" Wakko asked. He slowly opened the door. The person they were looking for was not here, instead, another person was lounging in the sofa, barefoot.

"Oh, hello boys…" she replied.

"Hello, Nurse!" Wakko and Yakko whistled.

"Boys," Dot said, rolling her eyes. The trio watched the dainty nurse get up from the sofa, stumbling on her bare feet. Both brothers' hearts began to beat as her curvaceous body loomed up above them. Hands on her hips, she stared down at them.

"Uh, Nurse did you happen to see where Scratchensniff went?" Wakko asked, slightly taken off guard by her posture. Nurse knelt down to his height with a coy grin.

"No, but I just happened finally see how cute you really are," she said slowly with a husky voice. She puckered her lips. "Well, go on"

Wakko eyes widened with disbelief before shooting a glance at his confused siblings. Without a moment too soon, he puckered his own lips and slowly leaned in. The middle sibling gleefully prepared for what would be up to this point the best Friday morning ever!

BURP!

The blast of her mustard gas smacked Wakko down to the floor, sending Dot into a fit of laughter.

"Oops, must be the beans," Nurse said, as she bent down over him. She barely noticed her lower posterity was facing the other Warner, and that particular Warner was enjoying the view.

"Um, Nurse you sure your feeling alright?" Yakko asked, trying his best to see past her bulbous rear. She cocked her head to look back at him.

"Were you staring at my ass?" she snapped with an odd mischievous grin. Yakkos face dropped, he had not expected that response.

"Uhh…. Not exactly"

"Oh I think you were"

"Nah, I think I wasn't. Whoa!"

Yakko stopped mid-sentence when Nurse grabbed him by the hand and friggin threw him into the sofa. After a dizzy spell of stars and drumsticks, Yakko looked up to see the nurse's butt looming right above his head.

"Would you like to get a closer look?"

"Yes, Wait I mean no!" Yakko began to protest before she planted it right onto his face. He flailed his arms helplessly as he was losing air. Unfortunately, that would be the least of his problems.

BLLLLRRTTTT!

The loud foghorn-like blast rumbled the sofa underneath her. Yakkos body went limp as Nuse finished giving him the royal Dutch oven. She got up and fanned sewage scented vapors towards the siblings.

"Whew, that was a good one!" Nurse complimented herself. Both siblings reeled in disgust.

"When did this turn into a Ren and Stimpy cartoon?!" Dot whined. Green faced and ready to puke, Yakko crawled away from the smoldering sofa and right towards his siblings.

"Ugh, now I know how Smollett's career feels like now…" he uttered breathlessly.

"So, boys…" Nurse said. She pinched the tip of the tongue with her teeth and scratched underneath her armpits "What do you say we do some time?"

"Okay, first off that sentence made no sense, second of all what's up with you today?" Yakko asked, genuinely concerned.

"Is that time of the month?" Wakko whispered.

"Come on Yakko. I thought you wanted me. And I want you too" Nurse cooed, continuing to advance towards them.

"Uh, Aren't you coming on a little too strong so soon? After all, according to Ruegger I'm only 14!" Yakko protested.

"That's never stopped you before…" Dot remarked.

"Not helping Dot!"

"That's okay, age is nothing but a number. I can have fun with all three of you" Nurse said, staring them down with a lustful gaze. She whipped out a stick red lipsticks and smeared the gooey stick all over her luscious lips.

Faster than you can 'Goodbye Nurse!' the Warners vanished out of sight. They stood outside the psychiatrists building, trying to ignore the moaning coming from inside.

" I think we lost her!" Dot uttered breathlessly.

"Whew, I am a man of the pursuit but this isn't what I had in mind!" Yakko complained.

"No kidding! That wasn't the Nurse we know!"

"I wish Scratchy were here, hed know what's going on!" Wakko added.

A loud ringing came from Dot's Ipad on the ground. She picked it up to answer it when she froze in realization.

"When did I get an Ipad?" Dot asked herself.

"Just answer it," Yakko told her, ignoring the plot hole.

Dot pressed the device and suddenly the three of them were seeing their favorite psychiatrist on screen in a Skype connection.

"Hello, there kids" Scratchy greeted. His large gourd-shaped head took up most of the screen.

"Scratchensniff, your assistant has turned into a blond-haired Pepe le Pew! What should we do?" Yakko asked with impatience. The psychiatrist groaned with agitation.

"I don't know, maybe it's her time of…" An indistinct voice came from behind him, cutting him off. "Be right there Serena!"

It was here the Warner's noticed that Scratchy didn't appear to have a shirt on.

"Uhh… Scratchy, what's going on over there?" Yakko arched an eyebrow at the screen.

"Yakko, I was actually very busy with a session right now" Scratchy replied. Right as he said that a voluptuous bronze skinned harlot passed by in the background. "An in-depth session. Bye"

The IPad shut off with an electronic sizzle.

"I don't believe it! Scratchensniff just blew us off!" Dot said incredulously.

"Hey, you kids!" A rough voice yelled at them. The Warners turned around, completely surprised to see it came from Ralph. The fatback guard came marching towards them, his gut jiggling over his ammo belt with each stride.

"What the hell are you kids doing out of the tower?!"

The Warners were barely fazed by his hostile demeanor as they simply walked past him. Yakko greeted him with a cheer.

"Hey, Ralphie boy! We'd love to mess with you, but we got a bit of an issue to sort out. Catch you later. Byyeee!"

The Warners gasped simultaneously when the guard snatched up by their tails in one swipe. He yanked them till he slammed their backs into the wall, pinning them to it with his meaty hands.

"Hey, easy with the fur Ralph!" Dot yelled at him.

"I- Is this about the liquid heat incident last week?! We told you we were sorry!" Wakko blabbed nervously.

"Shut up! I wasn't done talking to you damn freaks!" The guard bellowed, causing both of them to shrink. The eldest sibling bore an angry glare at the guard, not liking his sudden mood swing.

"How nice, cause we sure are" Yakko retorted. "Wakko… if you may"

Out of Wakko's hand came his trusty oak mallet. Within nanoseconds, the swinging weapon swooped in the air like a graceful piranha before landing in gracious hands of the mall cop security guard.

Wakko paused to read the run on sentence above him. " What…? Wait STOP!"

"Hammer Time!" said Ralph.

BAM!

The Warners exploded into a restroom inside, causing drywall and porcelain to shatter everywhere. The trio's toony bodies slammed against an open stall. Its occupant hobbled out of the room in fear, not even bothering to wash his hands.

The trio got up from the ground, still seeing stars and drumsticks. They laid their eyes on Ralph who happily whistled in the center of the hole in the wall, slinging the mallet over his shoulders. something seriously wrong was happening today.

"I don't know what hurts worse, getting hit with the mallet or that cheesy line?" Yakko groaned.

"As if you have to ask," Dot said with annoyance.

"Gee, that was fun," Ralph said with a sardonic smirk. "What do ya say we do something else?

"Yeah buddy, if its 'Whack a Warner' well we're not interested" Yakko spat back. He and his siblings broke out their own mallets, ready to pile drive him at the slightest move towards them. Out of character or not, they were not going to let this slide.

"Nah, I want to play a different game …" Ralph replied before pulling something big and black out of his back pocket. And no it's not what you're probably thinking of. The guard began wiping off the barrel of an old fashioned Colt 45 in his hands.

"Ralph, when did you get a gun?" Wakko whimpered. A malicious grin spread across the guard's face.

"Ah, Ever heard Russian Roulette, well this is the California Crapshoot!"

Bang Bang Bang!

"Yikes!" the Warners shrieked as Ralph fired several random rounds in the restroom, obliterating the tile floor beneath them.

"You had to say that in this room?!" Dot screeched. They bounced off the walls like orbeez balls, popped in and out of the stalls and bunny hopped on the sinks, barely avoiding the projectiles.

"You're looking at the original parkour experts folks!" Yakko said to no one. He was immediately thrown off balance when another shot destroyed a nearby sink. A hard jet of sewage water swept the trio off their feet.

Ralph stood over them and aimed the intimidating weapon directly at them.

"Any ideas?" Dot said nervously.

"Wait! Let me try something! Wakko jammed his finger into the barrel of the gun right before Ralph could fire.

BLAM!

Without warning, the colt 45 disintegrated in a large shock wave, sending the guard flying into an open stall. The toilet was liberated from the floor and landed right onto the guard's bald head.

"Whoa! That actually worked!" Wakko said with a delirious chuckle.

The Warners ran out into the hallways, which were unusually empty despite that it was in the middle of the day.

"Help Help! Ralph's gone rogue!" Yakko yelled out right before he froze mid-air, "I can't believe I'm actually saying that!" he resumed running with the others.

They screeched to halt when Nurse appeared at a doorway in a dirty crusty covered wedding dress.

"Oh, you're back!" she moaned before puckering her red lips. "Ready for the honeymoon?!"

"Hit reverse sibs!" Yakko yelled. The trio ran backwards to the point where they were nearly moonwalking out of the damaged building. At this point, the trio had zipped clear across the movie lot. Above them, the dark blemish on the sun above had gotten larger.

"Yakko, what's going on?!" Dot said, pulling at her bow. A stumbling giraffe mooed at them.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"" Looks like we'll have to go to the one other person who can help!"

A quick trip to the park was all it took for them to reach the person they were trying to find. They stopped in front of the largest tree in the park and ran right up to its front door.

"Slappy! Slappy!" the trio yelled as they banged on the door. The door opened.

"Hello, Godchild!" Slappy greeted them at the door in an oversized light blue robe. The elderly squirrel looked at them blankly with a sickly yet sweet smile across her lips.

"Geez Slappy, you heading to a Dugger's convention? What's with the robe?" Dot said, staring into the squirrel hazed eyes. Slappy simply took out a wreath made of daisies and poison ivy and planted it right on top her head.

"No children, I'm heading to the town square for the peace ceremony. Care to come?" she replied in a monotone voice.

"Oh no. Not you too!" Yakko whined as his siblings smacked their heads. Slappy shrugged.

"Oh well, you're missing out on enlightenment," Slappy said before she carefully scooted past them. Birds and doves swirled around her as she frolicked out of the park and into the busy street.

"Oh shit!" A driver yelled as he narrowly swarmed out of the squirrel's path and crashed into a beaver dam.

The Warners stared at the scene, completely slack-jawed and befuddled.

"Did someone finally make opposite day a real holiday?" Wakko asked.

"Doubt it. This has to be a dream…" Yakko replied.

"Warners?! What are you guys doing here?" an irritated voice came from behind them. In a rare blue moon occurrence, the Warners were actually relieved to see that it came from Mr. Plotz. The grumpy CEO stood at attention, waiting to hear whatever excuse they would have for today. But today was not one of those days.

"T.P., I can't believe I'm actually happy to see you," Yakko said, graciously hugging him. This moment of tranquility soon ended when the CEO, actually hugged back.

"Well I am happy to see you three, you three always make this studio great around here!" Plotz said with pleasantness.

Yakko recoiled from him instantly, his blood running cold. Shivers ran up Dot and Wakko's spines.

"You three look like you need your frowns turned upside down!" Plotz pointed them. His nose had gotten larger and turned a bright shade of red.

"No… no" Dot said while shaking his head. The words that came from Plotz's lips plunged the Warners siblings into a fuzzy pit of despair.

"You're not Plotz! You're not supposed to be encouraging!" Yakko pointed an accusatory finger at him. The CEO giggled, yes giggled, as the pale-faced man approached him.

"Oh, Yakko you seem tense. Maybe you should let me give you another hug."

Plotz held out his frilly cuffed arms. His custom fitted blazer turned into ghastly bodysuit of slime green and mustard yellow. his balding hair turned into a twisting mess of orange fur. When the agonizing transformation was nearly complete, the pupils in his demented turned a jaundiced shade of yellow.

"Maybe a game will suffice, a balloon animal possibly?" Plotz continued, his voice sounding more higher pitched and nasally.

"So this is what you see whenever you come across clowns?!" Yakko said to his younger brother while he trembled. Dot held onto him tightly.

"Uh huh, but he's that not that scary, to be honest…" Wakko stated, waving him off.

"Froinlavin!" Plotz exclaimed with a demonic sound. The content smile on Wakko disappeared.

"… but now he is! Hide!" Wakko rushed for the front door to Slappy's house, his siblings were right behind him. Inside the house was Nurse in a revealing Harley Quinn cosplay.

"Hey, there puddin! I'll be your Harley and you can be my Batman!" The nurse said before she pulled a nearby lever which showered her body with cottage cheese. Teeming with ecstasy, she ran for the door.

"Uh… how about neither?!" Yakko uttered before he slammed the door and reinforced it with extra padlocks and chains.

A piercing brumm of a chainsaw came to life eviscerating the California smog around them like butter.

"Seriously, who's writing this?!" Dot said, looking at the statement above. Ralph popped out of the bush nearby with the lethal weapon ready to shed.

"Heeeres Ralphie!" the guard sneered with crooked teeth.

"Ahh! Duck!" Yakko screamed. He yanked Dot out of the way just as the metal from the chainsaw kissed the side of the tree where she stood. All three of them ran away, nearly stumbling from the shower of acorns and bird residue falling from the glorious old oak tree. The large tree shuddered and shook before it came falling down. Both Ralph and the clown unwisely happened to be standing within its shadow, the latter holding a long yellow balloon.

"Who wants to see a sword?!" Plotz said.

Crash!

Meanwhile, the Warners hid inside a nearby booth a few blocks away…

"Wait, phone booths still exist in Burbank?!" Wakko wondered.

They hid inside a nearby phone booth and anxiously watched the guard come down the street a few seconds later, cackling at the top of lungs. The chainsaw still running in his hands. Yakko added in a couple of coins and picked up the phone. It rang.

"Hello?" Scratchy responded.

"Scratchy, you got to get back here now!" Yakko said to him.

"Ugh, why?"

"The whole studio seems to be going crazy, it's like everyone we know has contracted Nicholas Cage fever!"

"Yakko Puh-lease, I'm very busy!"

"Doctor? Sire are you ready for another round?" another voice answered.

"Hey, wasn't that Michelle Phiffer?" Wakko asked. Yakko jaw dropped in realizing that he was right.

"What the- Scratchy! That's my crush!" He huffed with indignation.

"You snooze you lose Yakko," Scratchy said before he hung up. Again.

"This dream better end soon, it's giving me a headache…" Yakko rubbed his forehead. He barely noticed the red glowing dot on his temple.

"Aw, let me fix that," said Ralph.

BLAM!

Yakko ducked his head just in time. The entire phone fixture exploded from a projectile blast that came from across the street. They looked up to see Ralph had ditched his uniform and was now in full camouflage and commando gear, complete with grenades on his belt and a smoking Uzi in his hands.

"You got to be kidding me!" Yakko exclaimed.

Ralph unloaded on them with nonstop fury, all while letting out a guttural wail that would have made John Rambo tremble. They bolted out of dodge, seconds before the rest of the phone booth and the surrounding area was peppered into minuscule pieces.

The Warners ran all over the place, desperately trying to find someone who hadn't gone full retard just yet. The dark blemish on the sun covered more than half of the sun.

They spotted a crowd in the center of the town. All of them were wearing more of the ghastly light blue robes Slappy was wearing. Without a moment too soon they muscled their way into the crowd. A sea of blank faces and drooling smiles were all they could see.

"Hello, all you glorious creations, time of reckoning has revealed itself unto us" A speaker bellowed above the crowd, one the Warners immediately recognized as Brain.

"Oh no- looks like those years with Pinky finally made him snap" Dot whispered.

"Oy, potato Oy, potato" The crowd chanted.

"Give us not your money, but your unwilling duty ship to love everything with peace and cheese sauce"

"Oy Laredo, Oy Laredo!"

"And let us forever be together through whatever obstacles may appear, let push them into One Direction!"

"Fried tomato! Winnebago!" the crowd chanted.

"Surprisingly these guys are less nuts than Flat Earthers" Yakko muttered. He winced briefly when a larger cult member completely covered in robes brushed past them, stepping on his toes.

"Hey, manners are still a thing you know!" Dot snapped at him. The man looked back to give an evil grin. Their faces dropped when they realized it belonged to Ralph.

"Yeah, we're not sticking around for this!" Yakko commented before he and his siblings climbed onto various cult members, not caring that they were ruining perfectly good haircuts or giving full on concussions. None of that mattered. They had to get away from Ralph, for the first time in a while they were actually scared.

The fat guy whipped off his robe, revealing that he had on nothing but a roll of dynamite around his waist. Yakko's eyes widened in shock as he made a mad dash to catch Wakko and Dot. All while The Brain continued to preach.

"And as we pray to out suns who we rejoice from afar. They bring us enlightenment as we say…"

"Admiral Akbar!" Ralph yelled.

BOOM!

The Warner hunched together, shielding themselves from the blinding light that came from the nuclear explosion searing the air around them. It rumbled the ground like fruit roll up's on a hot day, and vaporized anything within its path.

When it finally stopped. The Warners got up to see the entire yards of nothing but a scorched flat wasteland. And its only occupants were the Warners themselves and Ralph's sparkling blue spirit. The dimwitted guard looked at his own predicament with shock.

"Huh, I guess those old instructional videos were right. All you have to do is duck and cover." Wakko said.

Ralph could nothing but pout as a flying nimbus cloud lifted him high into the heavens, all while he glared at the Warners and gave them the middle finger. He disappeared in the cloudy marmalade sky, barely missing the sun which was now fully eclipsed by the dark spot. The Warners didn't care as they gleefully waved him goodbye.

"Bye bye!" the trio chirped.

"Whew, glad that's over," Yakko said.

"Yakko …" Nurse's voice cooed from a distance, hearing it made the eldest Warner flinch with an ugly grimace.

"Oh no!"

"Oh boys, I have enough toys for everybody!" The nurse came sprinting at them like a drunken gazelle. This time she wore spike studded leather boots and lingerie. And draped around her neck were anal beads and ball gags.

"Yakko, what were those two things the narrator just mentioned?!" Dot asked, her face wrenched with disgust.

"Something Fifty Shades of Grey probably touched on in better detail," Yakko replied. They quickly started moonwalking away from the potential blond dominatrix in making.

"Kids!"Mr. Plotz yelled. Behind them, Plotzo the clown came running towards them with an army of multicolored balloon animals in his wake. One of them, a pink giraffe, brayed at them. "Do you want to sing a happy song? Froinlavin!"

Just above the trio, the blue spirit of Slappy Squirrel came flying down from the sky carrying peace doves and unicorns. The Goodfeathers dive bombed with her, ready to decorate the Warners like old statues in a train station. The Warners trembled together as they watched the pandemonium descend upon them.

Suddenly, as if their prayers had been answered, a car pulled up nearby. Not bothering to check who it was, the Warners seized the opportunity. They burst through the car window action Bond style and face planted into the backseats.

"What can I do for you?" the driver replied with a Brooklyn accent.

"Take us anywhere but here! And step on it!" Yakko told him.

"The car driver slammed on the gas pedal and breezed away just in time. Nurse, Plotz, and Slappy's armies all collided into a shower of shrimps and clams.

"Will this dream ever end?!" Dot sighed, as she threw her head back in the seat.

" I hope so, I don't how much of this randomness I can take" Yakko replied.

"Can I change the radio?"Wakko asked the driver.

"Sure" the driver replied. Wakko tuned the radio dial to different stations.

"...Despite the growing hole in the sun's surface, it is getting hotter than MY MOOOOM…!

"...Get Scwifty...!"

"...Mississippi Queen, if you know..!"

"And now, this is Mordecai and Rigby live from LA with our musical guests today, Rita the Cat and Eddie Vedder will be performing a song."

Wakko sat in the back with the other two Warners and sighed in relief. "Oh good, something normal for once."

The hair on the back of their necks rose as they heard first few guitar notes of Black Hole Sun eerily plucked from the speakers.

"In my eyes, indisposed, In disguises no one knows...", Rita sang.

Realizing this was a sign of worse to come, the driver looked down at radio with dread.

"Oh fuuuck no!" The car screeched to a stop. The driver kicked them out with a swift kick. "You kids aren't roping me into this craziness."

"Hey come back!" Wakko and Dot shouted at the guy as he speed away high speed, barely missing a semi-truck skidding across an intersection. Somehow they could still hear the music.

"...And my youth I pray to keep, Heaven, sent hell away"

"We're not giving you 5 stars!" Yakko yelled at him.

An ambient drone undercut the music with a vibration that rumbled the entire ground beneath their toes. The large dot on the sun had completely overtaken and had now blocked out all of its bright rays. Instead, the head of Flavio the Hippo appeared in the dot, smiling down at them with a toothy grin. It then opened its mouth and began sucking in air like a straw. And the music at this point was deafeningly loud.

"...Black hole Sun, won't you come. Wash away the rain…"

Trees and skyscrapers squished into purple pus-like orbs, floating their way into the ginormous void above them. Bloodshot eyes in the skies stared down at them, screaming for vengeance and lustless agony. Tears filled with clams and shrimp glistened down its victims.

"I think whoever is writing this dream has officially checked out!" Yakko said, covering his ears.

"We're dreaming? Then how come I can actually taste this shrimp?" Wakko held up a half-eaten shrimp he'd picked up off the ground, it was the size of his head. For extra measure ,both Yakko and Dot pinched their cheeks. They hurt.

"Oh, God…"

The sun descended in the west upon the sparse horizon, the Flavio shaped star widened his gaping mouth and increased its gravitational pull, sucking in anything in his path. People, prairie dogs, pets, and including the Warners themselves.

"Hang on!" Yakko yelled over the apocalypse, his terrified siblings clutching to him tightly. The ground below them pulled away like crumbled cookie crumbs, spilling away into a sea of a dark blue ocean.

The water tower they'd come to call their home had smashed against a nearby gas station. Some of the gas began leaking out and flooding into the street. In a desperate attempt to stay afloat, they grabbed onto the broken legs of the tower and held on with their feet helplessly dangling in the wind.

The girrafe knocked into the trio, loosening Dot's grip on her brothers. She could do nothing but scream as she disappeared in the swirling dark void.

"Dot!" Yakko screamed.

"Yakko, I don't feel so good." Wakko croaked. He started to disintegrate in a haze of chili powder and pepper. Yakko watched his brother disappear like an open KoolAid into the black hole.

"...Won't you come, won't you come..."

"Wak...?"

The final guitar chords were coming near. An earspiltting rumble came just above his numb head. He looked up. On top of him was a planet-sized pitcher of the Mississippi Queen drink falling from the sky, topped with a nice Molotov cocktail. Yakko closed his eyes just before it connected to the ground with a final earth-shattering smash.

original link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13263720/2/The-Trip

#animaniacs #cartoon #fanfiction #crack fanfic #humor #horror #wtf am i doing #yakko wakko and dot #Hello Nurse #dr scratchansniff #Slappy Squirrel #ralph the security guard

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