#probably their dates are making crimes against humanity

[dinopepitah]

This is why I do not ship them

(OC x canon)

[mrsparrasblog]

Barracks Baby

Summary: After sleeping with four of your fellow teammates, you need to navigate through pregnancy and finding out who the Baby Daddy is

You should have listened to your mother, was all you thought when you looked at that bloody positive stick in your hand. Your mother always said, "Don’t whore around; you’re going to end up pregnant and unwed. Keep your virginity until marriage," blah blah blah.

What your mom didn’t tell you were the effects of living on a military base. You wouldn’t call yourself a barracks bunny—you only slept with four guys; there must be more to it for earning that title. And who could judge you? Everyone would if they could. These four men were everything every other man lacked on earth. No one could make you cum as many times as John could, no one could make you feel so stupid like Simon could, no one was as pretty and nice as Kyle—fucking him in any other position than missionary would be a crime against humanity—and no one had as much stamina as Johnny; he could go for at least six rounds, shove a protein bar between your pouty lips, and go four more.

You weren’t sure what to do. That was a lie—you always wanted kids, just not like this, not in this situation, without knowing who the baby daddy is, being employed by the military, and best of all, being broke. Of course, you could call your best friend Conny; she would always support you with the baby, but even she couldn’t help you break the news to the boys.

Your mother would probably kill you—no, she wouldn’t, but she would tell you all about eating liver sprinkled with fish oil, quitting your job, and getting into a relationship with that loser Mark you once dated. He would still take you after being knocked up, but how could you return to that after having these four guys?

You needed to tell them; you knew it. There was no other way around this situation. Maybe one of them would step up. You were sure if it was Price's baby, he would support you mentally and financially, though your military career would be destroyed. Simon would be a different story; he hated kids—or at least that’s what you thought. He never wanted them, never anything more than a fling. Johnny would be the safest choice; he would take care of you, step up, marry you, and make you a cute housewife in the Highlands. No more working sounded good right now to you. Kyle was a wildcard; he would support you—he was a good guy—but he never spoke about kids. He could either love them or hate them.

You stood up; it was enough time sitting on the toilet and overthinking. You walked outside, gripping the stick tightly and holding it against your stomach, trying to hide it from the rookies walking past you. They had too much fun; if you were with Simon right now, you’d make them run laps for smiling. Rookies aren’t there to be happy; they are there to suffer. Fuck, you’re going to be a terrible mom, you thought. You treated rookies badly, you forgot to feed your hamster once, and you’re only good at shooting and fucking—what will you teach this kid? The anxiety inside of you only grew bigger with every passing second.

You reached the meeting room, sat down, and sighed as you took out your phone, scrolling until you found the Group chat 141 + Hot Stuff. You remembered how Johnny changed it after you joined and how the Lt. threw a fit over it.

You: Important things to discuss, please come to the meeting room, now.

Daddy <3: Everything okay?

Emo Boy: Affirmative

Pretty Boy: Can I finish the set?

Bubbles: It’s 7 am, I’m not coming

You: NOW

With that, everyone agreed. You weren’t sure how to break the news. "Hey, I’m pregnant; it might be any one of you. Surprise, Daddy!" wasn’t a good idea. Leaving the pregnancy test out on the table as if it were a loaded gun wasn’t a good idea either. Well, you had to admit it was like a round of Russian roulette, just more deadly.

Simon was the first to join. He looked at you as if he knew but kept his mouth shut. After a few minutes, everyone was sitting at the table, looking at you in confusion. You never called a meeting; it would be uncalled for as a Sergeant anyway.

"Why are we here, Bonnie?" Soap destroyed the silence you had hidden yourself in.

You could talk now, explain it, or say anything to make it sound better, but all you could say was a miserable, "I’m pregnant."

Shocked expressions would be an understatement. John tugged on his beard, Johnny lost the color from his face, Kyle looked as if he were a teenager caught past curfew, and Simon’s expression was unreadable to you.

"I’m not sure who the father is among you four," the second bomb went off.

"How could that happen?" was all Johnny said.

"Yes, how could that happen," you spat out sarcastically.

"Babe, please let me cum inside, need you raw." "Let Daddy breed you, Sweetheart, need you all full for me." "The condom broke again, Bonnie." "I’ll pull out, love." Yes, how could that have happened?

"I’m out of this shit," Ghost’s words cut deeper than a knife as he stood up and left without another word. By your luck, he was probably the Dad.

"My mother is going to kill me."

"You’re 28, Gaz, no one’s going to kill you. You’re not a bloody teenager anymore."Price spoke in a stern voice.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

"I’ll give you financial support if it is mine or if you want to get rid of it," when you thought Ghost's words hurt, then Price killed you. He made you on the edge of breaking down—correction, you broke down. The tears in your eyes already streamed down your cheeks; damn hormones. Price looked at you in guilt. He wanted to speak up, but Johnny went first.

"That’s fucking great news, Bonnie. If it’s mine, oh God, I always wanted a wee bairn. Think of him looking like me, or getting twins—the MacTavish genes are pretty strong. We’re getting a wee lad, probably a 10-pounder like me."

Ten pounds—that’s a whole ass turkey. You didn’t even get the chance to excuse yourself before you ran outside, throwing up again. "Fuck, what did I get myself into?"

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dire iv, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook and his wolf girlfriend are going on a date! Outside!! Not just fucking in his bedroom all day! Who would have thought? (Not me.) Can't get ahead of ourselves though. She has to attended to her official duties and him? Unfortunately, he begins to realize the world around him is much crueler than he thought.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, world-building, the Dire = wolf people, species discrimination / prejudice; maknae line goon antics; smut (fem reader, spit kink (an understatement), unprotected sex (ty biology), m and f-receiving oral, face-fucking, cowgirl, creampie, cum-eating, biting/marking, m-masturbation, doggy); violence; non-idol!AU - werewolfAU / soulmates; werewolf!reader x blond, human!Jungkook; switches between JK's POV, your POV, and the Dire Alpha's POV (your dad), ft bodyguard!Park Jimin and bodyguard!Kim Taehyung

best doggirl and the spit kink king are back! my writing style has changed from 2021, did my best to summarize as you read but if you want the other parts: (i), (ii), (iii) happy birthday JK 2024! enjoy this gift? XD inspired by YOASOBI - 怪物 (Kaibutsu)

--

part iii

-

“You have to admit. You look really cool.”

Those dark gold eyes seemed to burn. The wet, visceral sound of black lips peeling back, revealing sharp, white teeth that could tear holes into his flesh with ease. They glistened in the moonlight, along with her pink tongue that lolled out, curling over the edge of her snout in a slow, predatory motion.

Sexy as fuck.

Jeon Jungkook tried not to quiver in excitement, but he was sure his death grip on the silvery fur of her chest was giving him away. Underneath his knuckles he could feel hard muscle and the heavy thud of his mate’s heartbeat. Well, there was probably some technicality in that wording, but that didn’t stop him from already thinking it.

“I’m starting to think you might like this form more than my human form.”

The female Dire wolf mused, tilting her head, breathing above his hair. He had continued to bleach it the ashy blond with a darker shadow root. His scalp wasn’t happy about it, but Jungkook liked to think of it as complimentary to the love of his life. Yes, uh, the giant wolf with the black-tipped silver fur sitting in his bedroom. Yes. Her thick tail thumped on the hardwood. She was doing that thing.

That thing with her saliva.

“I… I d-don’t…” Jungkook panted, but he was rapidly losing the plot.

The Dire seemed to grin.

“At least during sex.”

Drool slipped down the edge of those black lips and splattered onto his forehead, making him moan and close his eyes. He tried not to writhe, to scream, to collapse. There was no human ecstasy that could match what was surging through his veins now. It was a crime to call it spit. The second the drips hit his skin, his nerves seemed to sing with carnal need, all sensations heightened with a single drop. The wolf dipped her head, splashing saliva down his chest, and, as if possessed, his hands flew up and smeared it all over him, sending himself into a feral frenzy as it felt the slick liquid leak through his fingers, cling to his skin, down his abdomen, hot, burning, intense, his lungs on fire with primal desire. He could not speak.

His knees gave out.

He felt a padded, leathery paw catch him, claws nicking at his arm, and then a tuft of softness by his legs. Her tail. But before Jungkook could say anything, do anything, scramble to screw his brain on right, her tongue descended and pressed flat against his sternum.

“O-O-Ooooh, fuck meeeeeee...”

He opened his eyes to a hazy vision of pointed jaws, sending another surge of violent need through him, but at this point he could do nothing but submit, pinned to the ground, hypnotized by bright gold eyes as the wolf slid down, wrapping her tongue around his achingly hard shaft with teeth bared.

Okay, so, maybe Jungkook was a kinky freak but that was because of biology.

Not by choice.

Er, right.

And he wasn’t a furry.

Right.

The tip of her wolf tongue hoked around the oversensitive head of his cock and made his head snap back, nearly knocking himself out as pleasure tore through his blood. It was similar to human sex, except multiplied hundredfold, nearly resulting in an out-of-body experience. His palms slapped the floor, curling into fists in attempt to ground himself with knuckles into wood. Jungkook could relate the fetishists that obsessed over the Dire and willingly became sex slaves. Not that he condoned it per se, but, well, pot calling the kettle black and all that.

The sound of grinding bone.

A deep growl that turned into a husky chuckle.

Her human form was as beautiful as her wolf form. He marveled how quickly she could transform in front of his eyes, with her mouth hardly leaving his skin. She still retained her silvery ears and fluffy tail, the telltale features of the Dire, along with the wolf tattoo on her left hand. Like all of her kind, she had a serial number. But she was more than numbers. Scarred skin, powerful muscles, a mole under the inner corner of her right eye. An unmistakable air of regality and overwhelming power. She was, indeed, the Dire Alpha’s one and only daughter.

And, in Jungkook’s humble and purely unbiased opinion, insanely hot.

“And you say you could handle me while I’m in heat,” she taunted, licking upwards, spit sticking to his balls and making his eyes roll back into his head. “It’ll take you a few more years, I predict.”

“S-Shut up… aaah, yes…”

Oh, he thought about it. Not that he wanted to be a dad right now, but, someday. She had said before their children would follow the species of the mother. A little of pups, maybe? Or one by one? Jungkook had no idea what the specifics were, but he sure as hell thought about how fucking mind-blowingly intense the experience could be. He could only fathom, because she refused to tell him, instead drenching his throbbing cock with her hot mouth. He came instantly, the orgasm clawing through him from his core, tearing an animalistic groan from his ribcage, desperately fighting the urge to pass out, the high splintering through his muscles in igniting sparks.

Maybe embarrassing, but all shame was wiped away at the radiating sensation of her swallowing his thick load. He could feel the volume, feel the way her throat muscles constricted around him, feel the muscles of his crotch strain, and his cock remained hard, aggressively pulsating from their wanton connection.

Her warm, wet tongue hooked around his balls and Jungkook gasped, his hips snapping up violently, back arching, almost screaming as he felt the head of his cock slam into the back of her throat. Her hands gripped his ass, fingernails digging in, lifting him with ease, forcing him to thrust into her mouth in an absurd form of self face-fucking that would not be possible without her strength, which was both extremely arousing and extremely concerning. But horny canceled out fear, so Jungkook soared towards glorious heaven without a care in the world.

His moan swelled throughout the room, saturating it with his lustful vocalization.

A part of him wished he could describe the impending orgasm that was thundering from deep within. It held the same gravity as terror, the same abyssal depth as love, and the undefined quality of time. It ripped through him and put him back together at the same time, leaving him in tears, stronger than before, a step past alive that walked the line of death, and through the haze of oblivion, Jungkook saw her rise with the look of predator to prey, and she sank down on him, his stiff cock still sputtering residual spurts of cum while her hot, slick pussy tightened around him, sending a fresh wave of blinding bliss through him.

He felt her hands clutch his shoulders, the points of pain from her nails bringing him back to reality.

But only just.

She licked her teeth like royalty about to feast on fine dining.

“Mine.”

-

You dipped your fingers into your mouth and pulled them out, glistening with saliva, and smeared them over Jungkook’s lips. You watched with fervent delight as his instincts took over while you rode him, roughly, brutally, his eyes still conscious, his body bucking into each thrust, his mind on the brink as he tried to grasp onto each sensation. His willpower was breathtaking. No, addictive. You leaned down, hungry to watch his face that was unable to hide wave after wave of ransacking pleasure, his shoulders practically vibrating under your palms.

In the end, you were more animal than human.

You breathed out, your heavy exhale washing over him, and Jungkook writhed, fascinating you with the way his strained muscles rippled, whining, slamming his hips into your crotch with a loud wet smack and cumming again, but you did not relent.

There was such a thing as love among Dires, although you should not partake in such as the Alpha’s sole heir. At least, tradition did not allow you to partake.

Taming you, another story.

You tightened around him, defying tradition, losing yourself to a pleasure that could never be matched.

Like humans, Dire wolves also spoke of the ideal of a perfect mate. Less abstract than the concept of a soul, though. More focused on the concept of matching power levels and building a strong bloodline. There was no room for the weak among the pack.

And yet.

While Jungkook by no means matched you in physical prowess, perhaps that meant that the power of humanity was not measured by pure muscle, but by determination that went past personal safety.

You threw your head back, gritting your teeth, a rising hiss bubbling in your chest, the heels of your palms pressing against his chest. His back hit the floor with a thud, starting a vicious cascade of adrenaline from him to you, and you felt the rising pleasure crash and burst, suspended on the hairline of sanity before the spasms beneath gripped you, ricocheting up your ribcage, seeping juices painted between your connected bodies and you let out a howling moan, your nails digging into his flesh.

Jungkook came, trapped in the jaws of your orgasm, adding a squelch of fluids to the rest buried within you.

You reached between your bodies, opening your mouth, collecting spit onto the tip of your tongue.

It dripped down, down.

His mouth opened mid-moan, his dark eyes unfocused, pupils blown out, and you smeared the mix of his cum and yours onto his tongue along with your saliva, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he drank it, intoxicated, gurgling your name in wet bliss. His bleached-blond hair stuck to his forehead, damp from sweat. Or maybe from your drool from earlier. Ah.

You leaned in and kissed him.

His taste was different.

Like electricity.

You tilted your head, kissing him deeper. Again and again, until he reached the edge of consciousness.

“D-Don’t… stop…”

You kissed him even as he passed out, licking his face, staking your claim, painting him with you.

It might be primitive, but Jungkook loved it, so you did not deny him.

After wiping him down the best you could and tucking him into bed, you cleaned the floor. He slept like the dead, oblivious to your silent movement of mopping his floor. You made sure it was relatively dry before putting everything away, giving his form one last look before gazing out his bedroom window.

The moon blazed above in the pitch-black sky.

The adrenaline still rippled through your blood, but it wasn’t from the sex. You could not see the eyes, but you could feel that the window was being watched. The growl below your collarbones simmered. You felt the shallow presences shrink back a little, sensing your intent to kill on your territory.

They may have disappeared now.

However, you did not relax.

You had hired security detail for Jungkook. Against his will, they lived next door. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin from RJ's Private Security Services. The only reason you trusted them was because the CEO was well-regarded among your father’s security guard. Your father, the Dire Alpha, had human security detail outside of Dire territory, and wolves for around the castle. Crime was handled by the nation of the perpetrator. Between Dire and humans, the wolf was almost always ruled the perpetrator.

Which did not benefit the humans, since punishment was usually death.

It didn’t benefit wolves either, since punishment was usually the Alpha slaughtering you in front of your family.

Very pleasant traditions, yes.

Hring human bodyguards was important for Jungkook, because wolves were unlikely to attack humans and because humans were slightly less likely to attack their own kind when in groups. Slightly. Although you trusted Taehyung and Jimin, they were only human. They could not sense the world like you could, plus their bodies required ample amounts of sleep to be fully alert. Therefore, you had begun to stalk Jungkook’s apartment – much to his delight – but you did not inform him that it was because of the malicious intent that seemed to scuttle along the pavement like cockroaches. You did not mind satisfying his lust, of course. Other than your saliva giving him an almost hallucinatory high, it made your pheromones radiate off him, essentially telling anyone in the vicinity to back the fuck off or you would give him a very nasty bite.

You left out a wispy, heated breath, fixated on the moon.

You would protect him, no matter what.

On his bedside table was your necklace. A pendant of a jagged diamond with a platinum plum flower pressed in the center on a thick silver chain. On the chain were ten silver rings. Rings of conquest. You would have to go back tomorrow. There were at least two rituals scheduled soon. You were both prime breeding age and the next Alpha. Every male wanted to be the Alpha’s mate with the intent of producing the next royal kin.

You, however, were not interested in any of them.

Jungkook snored very loudly from the bed.

You slunk away from the window and crawled into bed beside him. He was warm. Once he felt your skin brush against his, his body turned, haphazardly flinging his limbs over you.

You smiled.

Pulled the blanket over his arm and listened to the sound of his slumber.

For Dire wolves, courtship was completed through combat. There were those that did participate in the gentler rituals common through humans, but marriage could not be viewed as solidified without combat between mates. If they deemed each other as worthy through battle, both wolves could call a truce, thus having their union recognized among the pack. Common wolves could perform this ritual at their leisure. The ritual for royalty was, of course, different. Although anyone and everyone wished to become the next Alpha’s mate, initiating an official challenge was intimidating to say the least. Not only was each match overseen by the Alpha himself, losing was both shameful and embarrassing. Nearly ostracizing. Still, word was also getting out that you were fucking a human. Unsurprisingly, most Dire were not thrilled at the idea.

And so, you were soon to be called to fulfill your royal duty of kicking lupine ass that had delusions of being your husband because your mate was currently snoring into your fluffy ear.

You would not lose. At this point, you would rather die than select a different mate.

Wolf men were overrated anyway.

The problem was, how were you supposed to have your marriage recognized by your people? It was a future issue that needed a solution, but one step at a time. First, kick the lupine ass of whoever was stalking Jungkook. Then figure out how to get your people – well, actually, your father – to acknowledge your mate.

Sigh.

That was already impossible, as Father would most likely bite Jungkook the second he showed his face.

Even from this distance, you felt the tingle of his disapproval from within the stone walls of the castle.

-

“Wait are you guys wearing?!”

Kim Taehyung flashed a dazzling boxy smile that further illuminated the flashiness of his pink-and-orange Hawaiian shirt. Maybe that was why he was wearing those ridiculous large sunglasses. “It’s fa-shun. You wouldn’t understand, dear record store employee.”

Jungkook was flabbergasted.

Park Jimin was also sporting a similarly colorful shirt, slate blue chinos, and big sunglasses. Leather loafers, even. He handed Taehyung a tan sports coat that he slipped on, covering his identification badge and harness that held his, er, tranquilizer gun. Jungkook still wasn’t sure what that meant, but the suspicious gun-shaped thing in the holster was bright orange with a blue biohazard sign on the handle. Jimin had one too, although his demeanor was less unhinged. He seemed more trustworthy with it. The shorter man put on a light green shirt jacket over his yellow-orange floral shirt.

Neither of them looked normal.

Despite this, Jungkook had no choice but to endure the stares of everyone as he stood on the train, squeezed between two men chattering over his head. He tried to look nondescript in his large grey bucket hat, dark red long-sleeved henley shirt, baggy black sweatpants, and black sneakers. Tried being the key word, since it was impossible to avoid looking like an emo child chaperoned by two parents perpetually trapped in the seventies.

He would have felt less weird holding the hand of his wolf girlfriend, honestly.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

Jungkook glared at Jimin, who was grinning with his sunglasses ticked down like a sleazy porn star.

“Aw, someone’s cranky,” Taehyung teased, earning him a similar death glare as they walked off the train. “Missing the missus that bad, huh?”

“Please stop talking like that,” Jungkook muttered, slapping down his train card rather harshly. The gate let out a hasty beep and shot open. “I feel like I’m stuck with the two goons of a half-assed gangster movie.”

“Who’s which half of the ass?” Jimin chirped.

Then his supposed bodyguards both shot finger guns at each other and burst into a fit of giggles, which made Jungkook half-consider jumping into an open manhole. On a better day he might have joined in on the fun. However, he was indeed cranky. This morning, she had kissed him goodbye, apologizing for having to cancel their plans and promising to be back in a couple days. He had almost protested, but then he caught her glancing at her hands. All her fingers were laden with heavy silver rings. A snake head with black gems for eyes. The black stone with a bone pressed into it. The wolf with the opal eyes. The ten-pointed star etched into a hammered silver circle. The simple silver band. The large opal gem inlaid in stars. The skull with the snake. The moth with opal gems as wings. The ring scripted with a single word, FEED. A twisted silver band.

“You replace them as you defeat stronger opponents, right?” Jungkook had asked.

She had smiled, pleased that he had remembered. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Do you think you’ll replace any this time?”

He swore a gold streak flared through her irises but he couldn’t be sure.

“Probably two.”

It mildly pissed off Jungkook that male wolves could just rock up and ask for her hand in marriage, but now that he thought about it again, saying that to the Dire Alpha’s face that you wanted to fuck his daughter sounded shit-inducingly petrifying. Upon further inspection, he didn’t envy them that much. Plus, they all got their butts kicked by his hot wolf girlfriend. The latter might be kinda – ahem, anyway, today was Jungkook’s day off.

He looked both ways before crossing the street, quickly followed by animated Jimin and Taehyung.

He couldn’t help but notice the Dire among the humans as he walked.

They stood out everywhere they went. Pointed ears, some clipped. Bushy tails, some shoved into voluminous skirts and baggy pants to make it less obvious. He used to think the ones that lived among humans were all up to no good. That was the public perspective, after all, similar to humans who were heavily tattooed. Such groups were treated with veiled contempt simply for existing. It made Jungkook feel ashamed for assuming that, especially since he now saw how carefully the Dire approached humans, trying to look as meek and unassuming as possible, moving in and out quickly so as to not disturb the peace. He also noticed how some groups of Dires glared at everyone that passed them, jaded by public perception.

Part of him wondered why they did not live in the wooded area of the main colony. Then another part of him came to realization that he probably didn’t want to know the answer to that. After all, his wolf girlfriend had to leave him to participate in courtship combat rituals, so… yeah.

It was a dog-eat-dog world.

There was a loud clang as the glass door opened and hit a male Dire in the face. Jungkook started. A group of teenage boys snickered and pointed, racing away from the business as the thin Dire in a dirty grey long coat shook his head roughly, looking pissed off but still staring at the ground. Nobody around him said anything. The Dire snorted and turned away from the establishment, empty-handed, quickly shoving his hands in his pockets.

Jungkook opened his mouth to ask if the stranger was okay.

The Dire glared at him, snarling deep in his chest before breaking into an alley.

A deep sense of regret stung within.

“He’ll be fine.” A hand rested on Jungkook’s shoulder. He turned to see Jimin ruefully smiling. “He nicked a wallet from one of the kids.”

Alert perked up his shoulders. “What? Aren’t you guys gonna do something?”

Taehyung appeared beside him with a frown, ushering him along. “For what? Ten thousand won and a drained train card? Besides, our job is to protect you.”

“Don’t you have a sense of justice?” Jungkook hissed under his breath, not liking their lackadaisical attitude.

Even behind the dark glasses, he saw Jimin’s expression deepen. “Justice? Of course.”

“Then–”

“We can’t go around invoking our personal justice on others.” Those plump lips twisted to a morose grimace. “That’s not our job. Our job is to protect you.”

Indignance flared as Jungkook harshly whispered back, “Then why aren’t you taking it seriously–” And he cut himself off as Jimin and Taehyung looked back at him. Faces tense despite their colorful appearances. Once again, he was reminded of how much they stood out.

“People… People are staring at us…”

Taehyung took a step past him, ticking his sunglasses with a sly smirk.

“The more eyes on you, the more witnesses available to testify if we are attacked,” he said under his breath, monotone, with a sweeping laugh to cover up the gravity of his warning. Jungkook half-turned, feeling Jimin’s arm clap over his shoulders, breathless and wide-eyed as Jimin’s pitched laughter rang with Taehyung’s deeper octave. It took a moment for those words to really sink in, but at that point Jimin was dragging him into the department store they had been heading towards all along, and then all of a sudden they became three longtime friends out shopping, noisily discussing the current frivolous fashion trends. Definitely not one dumbass and two dumbass-looking-but-actually-extremely-competent undercover bodyguards.

It wasn’t until Jungkook was shoved into a dressing room with an armful of random dress shirts that he spotted himself in the mirror, his wide eyes trembling with fear.

“I’m in danger,” he mouthed, feeling panic rise to his throat.

His heartbeat raced. He clutched the nice fabrics and shut his eyes, breathing in. Breathing out. No. Don’t cry wolf, idiot, and Jungkook almost laughed at the thought because it was more literal than most would expect. He missed her very much. He knew she could sense him somehow, so he tried to radiate calm, especially when he knew she was busy with her personal preparations. She had hired Jimin and Taehyung for a reason. It just… It hadn’t hit him until now that, yeah, they had been hired to protect-protect him.

Maybe, deep down, Jungkook had wished that it was only silly paranoia.

Then again, before he had security, five Dires had beat the stuffing outta him just because. So, if word was getting out that he was banging the Alpha heir for free…

Oh.

Okay, he was a little scared.

But only a little. He coughed and straightened, dumping the hangers of shirts onto the ottoman in the corner of the dressing room and whipped off his bucket hat, roughly mussing his flat hair. He scowled, hating this feeling of helplessness. Maybe he would hit up the mixed martial arts gym by his house. Increase his workouts to six days a week. He couldn’t be useless forever. At the very least Jungkook wanted to be able to kick human butt.

He yanked his shirt over his head.

“Hey – Whoa! Freaky-deaky!”

Jungkook almost launched himself into the mirror in a mute scream, pressing his long-sleeved shirt into his chest as he spun around to see Taehyung and Jimin cramming themselves into the dressing room, locking the door behind them. He gawked, flapping his jaw like a fish as the shorter male bent towards him, giving him a shifty up-and-down stare as Taehyung tried not to burst into another fit of deep giggles.

“Your back looks like the imprint of a chain-link fence,” the giggly man snickered, tapping his crossed fingers.

Jimin ticked his sunglasses down and wagged his finger.

Jungkook chucked his shirt into Jimin’s face, who promptly slingshot back into the dressing room door in dramatics. Taehyung grabbed his shoulders and gleefully hissed, “Stop, stop, not so loud,” as if this unbelievable ruckus wasn’t suspicious enough.

“Get out,” Jungkook gritted out to the other two. They waved his warning away and began to pick up the dress shirts, hanging them on the bar while very poorly acting as if they couldn’t see the welts and scratches all over him. Waving their hands this way and that, sticking him into a revolving door of various dress shirts while exchanging not-so-subtle looks.

Assholes.

“I can see you.”

His bodyguards-turned-fashion-critics were splitting up the tried-on shirts into two categories. Both tucked their sunglasses into the dip of their collar to begin serious deliberation. Wordlessly shaking their heads at each other. Contorting their faces in various levels of judgement. It was strangely efficient and also weird as fuck.

“Get some slacks. Dark ones, tapered,” Jimin nudged Taehyung, and the taller male was off, sticking his head out of the dressing room in a left-right criminal-level lookout stance before sauntering out.

At this point Jungkook knew it was pointless to protest. A pair of dark brown orbs popped over his shoulder as he unbuttoned the silky black dress shirt with small opalescent polka dots. He noted Jimin had to teeter on tiptoes to harass him properly.

Heh, shorty.

“You got that dawg in you, eh, Kookie?” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows. “Can I call you that?”

“No,” Jungkook muttered sulkily, slipping out of the dress shirt to put on a mid-weight navy one. He felt a little hand slap his arm once he shouldered it on. The upper seams were too short for his broad shoulders. He took it off without even buttoning it, recognizing there was no point in putting on something ill-fitting.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed about, Kookie,” Jimin barreled on and Jungkook realized now that the shorter male must be from Busan. His intonation and blunt talk reminded him of his hometown. “You and I ain’t so different if we get down to it.”

“Uh huh,” but it was a distracted reply. Taehyung spoke smoothly but there was a rough depth to his elegant, low voice. Daegu? Jungkook wondered how they got here. Money, probably. “Why accept this job?”

“Huh?”

He lifted his head and frowned at Jimin’s peeking eyes over his shoulder through their reflection.

“Why protect me?”

Jimin’s dark brows lowered slightly. Even though half of his face was covered by Jungkook’s shoulder, the crinkled in the corners of his eyes indicated that he was smiling.

“Honestly, I was getting really tired of protecting people who only care about themselves and not the world around them. But I don’t know how to make it better either. So, until then, I’ll have to keep looking for people who have the courage to make our shared world more beautiful.”

Jungkook stared at Jimin through the mirror.

For some reason, he remembered fluffy ears and soft tail curling around him, the smile of a leader-to-be by his side.

He turned, then jerked back.

“You’re too close.”

Jimin wiggled his eyebrows again. Creep. “Hey, no pressure or anything, but does your lady love have some fri–”

Taehyung chose this awkward moment to burst through the dressing room door. He gasped audibly and shut it quickly, waving the pants at Jungkook, “Cover yourself, you animal!” And, because Jimin had whipped his head around, Jungkook could now see down the nape of the shorter man’s neck. He had a series of obvious tattoos that disappeared downward.

The moon phases.

Then it clicked.

Jungkook bopped Jimin on the head.

“Ow!”

“The fuck is that for?” Taehyung scolded, jabbing him in the chest with the hanger of the slacks. “Didn’t your parents teach you that violence is wrong?”

But Jungkook paid him no mind, instead giving Jimin a knowing glare. The shorter man stuck his tongue out with a cheeky smirk before morphing back to a hurt baby chick when Taehyung looked back at him. Asshole.

“Get out before I clobber you both.”

Three really was too many to select one dressy date outfit, but such was Jungkook’s life now.

-

“Father, do you hate the humans?”

The Alpha could smell him. Despite his daughter’s attempt to shower, coitus between highly compatible mates lingered. Sigh. He knew this day would come, and he had dreaded it. His expectations were sadly met. Sigh. He shut his eyes and breathed in, but not too deeply. The urge to chomp on the human boy became stronger than before. He looked down to his daughter, who was still in her human form, wearing the traditional loose robes of the Dire. Silver, to indicate her royal status. It was coincidence that the color matched her natural fur. She was giving him a curious, searching expression.

His scowl must be showing.

“I don’t hate the humans,” he growled.

She remained unconvinced.

The Alpha let out a huff and looked out to the forest. They were on the rooftop on the stone castle, about to spar. The sun was setting, turning the green leaves a cinder-orange glow.

“Human are selfish, cunning, hateful creatures,” he said to the sea of leaves. “Such is the nature of those who perceive themselves as weak. The mouse lives an honest life, for it does not know of its level in the food chain. But humans do. They are not like you and I. The Dire know themselves to be apex predators, and so we act accordingly. That is, until the integration began, poisoning the Dire with their human fears.”

The moon was slowly peeking out, a flirty little sliver in the sky.

“But humans are not weak.”

The Alpha raised his head to the memory of his lovely silver wolf in the sky. She used to say these words to him, back when he was a haughty, arrogant, uneducated young wolf. She was always the wiser one.

“Their bodies might be weak but, unlike the rest of nature who are simply living in their own isolated bubbles, humanity has the ability to comprehend, empathize, and connect all these isolated bubbles. They are creative, innovative, and imaginative. They are the bigger world that the Dire are only a small part of.”

He looked back to his inquisitive silver pup.

It was partly a lie, as the Alpha did, indeed, hate the humans with a fiery loathing.

He would not, however, actively place his emotions onto his own daughter. If she was to lead after him, it should be with her own beliefs and ideals. He was simply there to guide. He still didn’t think he was doing an exemplary job, but he was only one Dire, after all. Sigh. It wasn’t the first time he wished his wife was still here to scold him to do better.

“Are those Mother’s words?” his clever pup asked.

The corner of his jowls raised. “You always know when she speaks through me, somehow.”

She smiled, playful and roguish, and he saw himself in her. Then a flash of guilt clouded her expression. He saw her pause, unsure. It made him feel like a failure. He was a leader before he was a father, unfortunately. His own daughter hesitated to be open with him.

He gazed back to the turning crimson leaves, not wanting his stare to intimidate.

“I know you have been helping humans on nights of the full moon.”

He felt her withdraw slightly. He frowned. But then she pulled herself up, standing straight beside the Alpha.

There was his defiant child.

“So?”

He tried not to smile. “You challenge our right to the hunt?”

“If our people were better hunters, then my impact would be insignificant.”

He continued to stare at the trees despite the pride swelling in his chest. “You wish to end such massacre.”

To his surprise, his daughter hesitated once more.

“The Dire cannot prevent themselves from becoming our true selves on that night. I will not let us be convinced that the core part of who we are is ugly. I want us to be able to hunt the natural way. However, I cannot deny that the full moon night has created mutual resentment between our species. But, perhaps, there is a way for us to contain our hunt to a different prey.”

“Oh?” The Alpha did his best to not sound impressed.

“Haven’t we become too lazy when it comes to the wildlife, Father?”

She had noticed it too. Raw meat had become too easy to obtain.

“According to the humans, the deer have become an invasive species.”

“Is that so?” He already knew. Calling out his own people as idle dogs did not exactly earn respect, although he was getting closer to doing so out of personal frustration.

“Yet I don’t think I can suggest such things until we better improve the bond between us.”

They stood in silence, father and daughter.

“I’m ready to kick your ass now.”

“I doubt you’ll be able to do so, Daughter,” the Alpha barked, his laughter cracking through the twilight. Something only she heard nowadays. “You’ve become soft hanging out with those humans.”

She proved him wrong.

-

He was drooling.

It was a little unsettling. It shouldn’t be, but it was for some reason. Maybe because he was human.

“Jungkook, uh…?”

He started and made a hasty slurping sound. Lovely. You turned a little, swishing your tail back and forth to get a feel for mobility. Checked yourself in the mirror again, satisfied with the tailor’s adjustments to the cobalt blue velvet dress. There was an additional zipper by the hole at the lower back of the dress that allowed your tail to poke through. The dress was a stark difference from the usual baggy clothes you wore. Although the fabric was stretchy, it hugged close in your body with a soft cowl neck and gathered side seams. The wolf in you disliked this encasement, but there were slits along the sides that helped, as well as your mate’s hungry expression. It was quite amusing.

And flattering.

“Wow, you look so… so fucking hot.”

“The open back is making me feel rather cool, actually,” you remarked. The thin straps crossed in the back to hold the front against your chest. Some of your scars and half-healed gashes were visible. You didn’t mind though. Jungkook seemed to like it, creeping closer and closer to you with every second. You pretended not to notice. “I brought some silver shoes to wear with it. Do you think this will be acceptable for the establishment you selected?”

He was not listening. Jungkook was now almost breathing down your back, and then you felt his fingertips trace your recent wounds with gentleness and concern. And a hint of desperation.

No, a lot of desperate horniness.

You stared at him blankly through his own full-length mirror in his bedroom.

“Does it hurt?”

His big eyes lifted to pout at your reflection.

“It does not.”

You had two new rings now. The FEED ring had been replaced with one that held a black onyx heart-shaped gem held down with locked chains. The snake head ring was also gone, swapped for a silver band composed of fused triangles. He was peeking down at them.

“The more intricate ones are from newer families,” you explained. “The older families have simpler designs, as that was the norm at the time.”

“Families?”

“Just as you humans have a coat of arms for your families, we have ring styles. There is a special Dire family of silversmiths that create them. The royal family has a pendant.” You laid your fingertips over the pendant hanging from your neck, a jagged diamond shaped like the full moon with a platinum plum flower pressed into it. “Unlike the families, who are able to swap rings and be indited to new families, the royal family are locked to their fate.”

His brows knitted together. “Sounds complicated…”

You smiled, patting his cheek. “Let me handle such things. You can stand there and be pretty.”

But a shadow crossed over his features. You paused, not expecting that. Jungkook shifted to hold your elbows, pulling you towards him with a rueful expression. He shook his head.

“I want to do it.”

You blinked in confusion. “Are you using euphemisms for sex now?”

He looked annoyed. “The ritual.”

Huh?

Wait.

He was crazy.

“The courtship combat?”

His nodded, making his blond ponytail bounce.

You almost laughed. Almost, stopping as soon as you saw the serious look on his face. “Ah… That’s not possible, my sun.”

Pink dusted his cheeks. “S… Sun?”

You reached up and twirled his bleached bangs. “Mhm. As I rule the moon, you are the sun that allows me to shine.”

He was two seconds away from becoming a blubbering mess. You laughed again as he hugged you fiercely, then received whiplash from him jerking back, gripping your shoulders tightly. His big brown orbs with glistening with brightness. “I want to do the ritual. It is a tradition of your people. I want to respect it. I want to win you.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Oh… well, not win you, but… you know…?”

Still, you considered it for a moment. You could tell him that he had already won, but you also knew that wasn’t what he meant. “The ritual reflects the savagery of the Dire. It is not for the weak.” You raised your head. Jungkook straightened, determinedly setting his jaw. He was far from the frightened young human shivering in the alley back then. The corner of your lips upturned. “You want to fight me that bad, huh?”

He waved his hands, dark eyebrows falling in worry. “No, no, not like that. I just think… I mean, your dad might – uh…” He rubbed his chest nervously.

Oh.

You looked out the window, to the growing moon. “Hm, I suppose there is some way to arrange a degree of fairness. But you will need to become stronger. There’s no way you can win now.” Father will be pleased, perhaps. It was hard to tell with that wolf.

“R-Really?” Then the latter half of your words sank in. “Hey…”

You turned to face him with a wolfish grin.

“Would you like me to prove it to you now?”

-

Well, Jungkook didn’t win the tussle, but he could confidently say he had won at life.

He had one hand pinned behind his back and the other on the floor above his head, her weight on top his thighs, and her tongue sliding down the nape of his neck. His boner was getting violently uncomfortable against the hardwood. He was too absorbed in pheromone heaven to care. The more competitive side of him argued that this was cheating and the horny side of him told the former to shut the fuck up and enjoy the saliva dripping down his shoulders, his skin burning with heightened sensation.

She had the foresight to remove her dress before pinning him down.

Jungkook could never compete with such wisdom, but he was fine with that.

She let go of his hands. He could do nothing. She gripped his lower ribs and hoisted his torso off the ground, too easily, and ran her tongue down his spine, removing her knees from the backs of his thighs as well. His hot skin prickled at the sensation of her teeth nicking him. Somehow he was now on his knees. Her arm snaked around his front and gripped his inner thigh, sharp fingernails digging into delicate flesh. His entire body shuddered, lungs included, her spit in rivers across his shaking backside.

Her tail flicked against his calf, soft fur rubbing against him.

“O-Oh, fuck…!”

Pre-cum was already leaking down his shaft. Hypnotized. His own palm pressed against the swollen, slick head of his cock. Like a spark to a flame, his nerves blazed with delight, prompting him to wrap his hand around the shaft. Her other hand clawed up his chest. And then he felt her teeth sink into his side. Jungkook looked down, vision unfocused.

Gasped.

Eyes streaked with gold gleamed and she bit down, into him, not hard enough to break skin but definitely hard enough to drive him insane.

His head snapped back, vicious lust tearing through his throat in a strangled moan, jacking himself off hard, fast, punishing, driven by the scratches down his chest and inside his inner right thigh, by the teeth locked into his left side, and then pain blossomed into unyielding waves of torrential pleasure. Coiling into his blood. Seizing his heart. So intense he was on the edge of alive and dead. A moan ripped at his throat, nearly a howl, and Jungkook could smell blood, nearly sending himself into a frenzy.

His orgasm shot all over the floor.

His lower muscles clenched and he thrust into his hand, burning all over, sensitivity exploding through his frame, and now he saw it, streaks of milky white splattered onto the hardwood, oh, shit, right before his eyes rolled back into his head to flashing blackness, feeling hot tongue washing over the bruise throbbing at his side.

“Ah, I’m sorry…”

“I d-don’t care,” he immediately choked out, swaying, his head lolling back into place, infernal ecstasy threatening to swallow him whole. His eyes could barely register that he was bleeding from the small pinpricks of her teeth marks. He felt unnaturally good, truthfully. Maybe because her saliva lingered on the wound. A fresh surge of arousal rippled down to his groin.

Her name slipped from his gasping lips.

A low, animalistic huff.

For a moment, Jungkook could not quite understand the image in front of him. One second, he was sinking on his knees, panting, staring at the cum-drenched floor of his bedroom. The next second, the powerful, lithe, crouching form of his wolf girlfriend was before him, on hands and knees. Her bushy silver tail swishing back and forth, her head low to the ground, ears standing straight up, and her tongue flat against the hardwood.

She was licking his cum!

Her tail was wagging!

“O-Ooooh…”

Those gold-flecked eyes fixated on him, watching him with a low, throaty snarl.

“Get behind me.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice.

His body knew what to do, springing into action, probably ungracefully, but he didn’t care, launching off his knees, positioning behind her round, raised ass. His hands gripped the soft curves, the pads of his thumbs slippery against her heated opening, and her snarl morphed into a blissful hiss, the tendons on the back of her hands visible, and he sank in, instantly drowning into suffocating, insatiable fervor.

Violent, loud, wet smacks of hips to hips.

She licked his taste off the floor. Her tail thumped against his thundering heart. His body snapped forward with unrelenting force, breathless, alive, intense, illuminated by the moon, his throbbing cock swelling against her pulsing muscle, snaking shivers seizing his insides.

Synchronized, laborious exhales.

Her head tipping back, the tip of her tail curling around his neck, her ass pushing back against his crotch.

“Ah, Jungkook, yes…”

Then he felt it.

A sublime pull coaxing him from within, otherworldly, not just fitting together on the physical but in a divine perfection, and his grip tightened, trying to hold on, thrusting deeper, harder, there.

He orgasmed in this carnal, dream-like state, moaning to the ceiling.

He wanted to ask what that was, if she had felt it, but his hips continued despite the heightened sensitivity, and he couldn’t stop, kept going, his lungs burning, leaning forward, oh, fuck, this angle was even better, her orgasm spasming around him, his eyelids fluttering from the racing bursts of pleasure, still so hard that it was almost painful, cumming again, the saturated scent of their sex overpowering, slickness dripping down their tense thighs, once again building to another wet, tight, soaring climax.

Jungkook continued until his legs literally gave out.

He slid to the floor, gasping, marveling at the way her pussy glistened, the quivering lips puffy and engorged dark pink, leaking heated slickness.

He inhaled.

Ducked forward.

Pressed his tongue into her and groaned, massaging his sore cock as he ate her out, tasting himself, tasting her, tasting them. Intoxicating, sweet, slipping into wet velvet, drunk on their union.

-

“What… W-What was that…?”

You listened to him describe it to you. And nodded.

“I see.”

“What?”

You rubbed your chin and asked him a question. “Do you ever wonder why the humans that become Dire sex slaves rarely stop such relations?”

His face contorted into embarrassment and confusion. “U-Uh, well, n-no, I’m not–”

“I’m kidding. That has nothing to do with anything,” you hummed, patting his chest with adoration. The look on his face though. “Humans have the concept of soulmates, don’t they?”

His pout turned into wide-eyed interest. “Uh, yeah…”

“Well, that doesn’t happen the nature.”

Jungkook glared at you.

You grinned. And then sighed, resting your chin on his pecs. “Do you wonder why the Alpha bloodline is so coveted?”

“Because you’re in charge?”

You hummed, your tail creating the tent with his blankets. “Well, of course. But we are not simply in charge by blood alone.” You placed your hands on his chest. Your rings and necklace were on his nightstand. “The Alpha position can be challenged by any wolf in the pack. However, we are difficult to defeat due to our blessing from the moon. This includes our amplified strength, heightened senses, increased rate of regeneration and healing… and the nature of our copulation.”

Those big eyes were blinking bewilderedly at you, not yet understanding.

A slow smirk touched your lips.

“The more you have sex with me, the stronger our connection becomes. You will feel the traces of divinity stirring within you to draw you towards orgasm.”

He sprang upward, startled.

“You mean it can feel even better?”

You laughed, sitting with your hands between your legs. “Yes, the sex will feel better and better as time goes on. The Alpha needs to bear children after all. So, to ensure this despite our low ovulation rate of twice a year, the moon encourages us to enjoy the mating process. Alphas in heat are extremely overbearing.”

Jungkook looked traumatized. “Y… You…?”

You licked your teeth in ravenous delight.

“I’m gonna die,” he declared, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I thought you would be happy to know that.”

He looked more stricken than pleased. “H-How can I keep up?! I’ve barely started not going full crazy every time you spit on me!”

You wiggled your tongue at him.

“S-Stop!”

His body involuntarily flinched at the sight of your tongue. You stayed between his open legs.

“I wouldn’t worry. I’m not sure about the specifics with humans, but I do know our marriage will mean that you too will receive the full blessing of the moon. Until then, the compulsion will strengthen you to your full potential each time we fuck. The moon wouldn’t want you to give up midway, you know.”

“H… How do you know that?”

You frowned. “Hm. I don’t.”

Jungkook almost fell off the bed.

“But I do know that is what my father told me. Alphas used to have a lot of children outside of their marriage, because the sex is quite literally addicting. It is similar to partaking hard drugs. Alphas only marry once, to the suitor most powerful that makes them yield, thus establishing their offspring as the true heirs blessed by the moon. The moon’s blessing ensures fertility between that connection. It does not, however, stop the Alpha from getting around.”

He hesitated and then blurted, “Your dad gets around?!”

You froze.

Then your ears lowered.

“No. I have never smelled another scent mingling with my father’s other than my mother,” you sighed sadly.

-

He could tell he struck a forbidden chord.

“I’m sorry.”

She smiled. Weakly. Then shook her head. “No. Don’t be.” She lifted her head, facing out the window. No. To the moon hanging above them, softly illuminating the world below. Her hand raised.

She tapped above her heart, twice, with her fingernail.

Turned to him. They shared silent expression of understanding. She took his right hand, and directed it to his heart. Nodded when he held his index finger out.

“Tap your heart twice and look to the moon,” she instructed softly.

He did so, feeling a faint, strained pull from within.

“What does it mean?”

She smiled again, and Jungkook could see the sadness. The yearning. A dream broken, a memory never forgotten, a love indescribable that transcended time and space and worlds.

“It is a Dire practice. How we to pay respects to the dead.” Her eyes shone. “She would have loved to meet you, my sun.”

She fell into his arms and he caught her, holding her for a long, long time.

-

You had never been in such a place before.

“Reservation for two? Right this way.”

It was a grand place. Different from the castle. A restaurant. The chandeliers above were massive, but each held small, dimly lit bulbs that resembled stars in a dark ceiling. Tables with starched white clothes and high-backed chairs. The clientele was dressed like you and Jungkook, in elegant dresses and pressed slacks paired with button down shirts. They stared at you and him above their wineglasses, trying and failing to be subtle. You held your head high, one of your hands on his elbow, sweeping past them in cobalt velvet and silver heels, your tail brushed out behind you, silken ears raised on alert.

You noticed the table beside yours had two sharply dressed men. The taller man wore a dark green suit, and the other in a navy suit. They sat across from each other, but both turned to glance at towards you as you approached.

You almost smiled, but tried your very best not to.

Park Jimin winked. You felt Jungkook stiffen next to you as Kim Taehyung raised his wine glass to you.

“Those punks…”

Still, he looked nervous in his silk black dress shirt. He hadn’t buttoned it all the way. The peek of his collarbones added a tasteful touch. His dark slacks were well-tailored, perfectly laying over the leather of his black dress shoes. Even the gold buckle of his belt matched the thin gold chain around his neck. As he pulled out your chair, you noticed his cuff links glimmer blue.

Sapphires to match your dress.

You swept your skirt by your thighs and sat down carefully, your tail brushing by his hand.

Smiled as you heard him suppress a squeak.

He sat down quickly as the waiter patiently introduced himself and set down the menus, bowing low in exit.

You curiously glanced about, noticing a few well-dressed Dire among the tables. In fact, you recognized some of them. High-ranking officials that worked in the human government. Your father had appointed them. They all had their full pointed ears, their soft tails groomed, and a couple had precious metal chains and dangling gems woven into their fur.

“I’ve never been somewhere like this.”

“Really?” Jungkook was gawking at his menu as if he had never seen paper before.

“This is my first time. I’m glad it is with you.”

It turned out the menu had an entire section dedicated to cuts of raw meat. There were no prices on the menu. Frightening.

“Do you want me to pay?” you asked, tilting your head.

Your mate seemed on the verge of passing out. “Ah… Actually, when I reserved a table, they asked for my credit card. So they can charge it when we leave, I guess…” Jungkook frowned slightly, his ears turning red as he glared at you. “I’m treating you. Although,” he muttered under his breath, I can’t do this all the time, clutching his menu so tightly his knuckles were white.

You assured him. “I’m really looking forward to it. You look very handsome, by the way.”

His face brightened. He straightened up, tucking a few strands of his blond bangs behind his ear. Half of it was tied back, leaving the shorter layers to soften his features. His shoulders relaxed a bit.

“I thought you went to these kinds of places all the time.”

You shook your head. “No. Father hates these sorts of places. Excessive pomp and circumstance.” You imitated his deep, gruff voice with a laugh. “We have a personal butcher bring cuts of meat about half the time. The other half, we hunt.”

-

The Alpha sneezed.

It was a loud, hostile sound that echoed throughout the stone castle.

He rubbed the end of his snout with the pad of his paw. Hmph. Someone must have been mocking him.

He growled and continued down the stairs, heading to the dining room for peaceful dinner.

-

“H-Hunt?”

“Ah… Wildlife.”

Before either of them could continue the conversation, the waiter was back. He asked if they were ready to order. Instead of looking towards him, the waiter poised towards his girlfriend first. Jungkook was a little surprised at how the waiter seemed to not react to the silvery black-tipped fur. Maybe he shouldn’t though. He had chosen this restaurant because it had a raw meat menu, after all.

She made eye contact, and Jungkook smiled, gesturing her to go first.

Their waiter was a gentle-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair, sparkling dark eyes, and slightly rounded cheeks. He listened carefully to her order with his hands tucked into one another, a napkin draped over his forearm.

“Excellent selection,” he praised, separating his hands. “I would like to invite you to try our house red wine, specialty crafted and bottled specifically for our dear customers to prefer the raw selection. Its deep, rich, fruity flavor will match perfectly.”

He nudged her foot under the table, trying to convince her to ball out. She did not look at him but tapped the tip of her high heel against the side of his shoe.

“That sounds lovely.”

“Wonderful.” The waiter bowed and faced him. “And what would you like this fine evening?”

“Ah, well…”

He somehow managed to mumble his way through the peppered wagyu beef option. Medium rare. The waiter was unperturbed by his obvious anxiousness. He asked if them both if they would like to share the bottle of wine, then, since the pairing would be excellent with both their choices.

“Oh, we can do that?”

For his part, the waiter did not react to Jungkook’s sputter.

His wolf girlfriend shot him an alarmed look before quickly composing herself and saying, “We would love to.”

The waiter bowed again, and repeated their orders to confirm. He took their menus and bowed out, swiftly disappearing to the bustle of the kitchen.

“He was very professional.”

“I… I made a fool of myself,” he groaned, wanting to hide under his hands. Instead, he clasped his cloth napkin for life support. “It’s so obvious I’m low class. I’m sorry.”

Her chuckle was warm. “Don’t apologize. You weren’t rude.” She reached over and pet his knuckles with her fingertips, her ears perked. “Remember, this is my first experience too.”

He could feel eyes on them. “Do you think… anybody here recognizes you?”

Without breaking eye contact, she said, “I think I’ve been identified, yes.” There was no warning in her voice. “But Taehyung and Jimin are here. And I am not embarrassed to be seen with you. They will need to get used to it.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but peek at their surroundings. “Would you call this a soft launch?”

Confusion brushed over her features. “Launch of what?”

He grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

She scowled cutely. “No, tell me. Explain this terminology to me.”

He sometimes forgot she didn’t know these things. He explained, and the topics moved on to other phrases and sayings she had questions on. He remembered once again that she didn’t own a phone; it was hard to recall because she knew so much information about music, science, and even philosophy. She explained how she received the schooling that all Dires did, but also had additional classes with various occupations such as silversmithing, tailoring, butchering, and shadowing the Alpha when he interacted with the human government.

“How does it work? Are you supposed to step into the role as soon as possible?”

She shook her head. “No. When my father chooses to retire, I will defeat him in combat to assume the title of Alpha. I could challenge him before that, but,” she mused, smiling. “Over his dead body, as he would say.”

“Does everything end in fighting?”

“A lot of things do.” She caught his troubled expression. “I think you are mistaken by the nature of combat. For humans, fighting is generally negative, as it often devolves from conflict and hurt. But, for the Dire, combat is essential to life. How we defend our ideals, how we connect with our souls, how we become one with the earth and each other.” The waiter came by with two polished wine glasses, soon followed by a bucket of ice that sat on the edge of the table. “We do not fight to cause pain. Of course, we bruise. We bleed. Bones break occasionally, but not often. With each strike, we communicate. We understand. We bond.”

Their plates of food followed. His steak and roasted vegetables, plated with a crisscross pattern of delicate, buttery sauce, and her select raw meat sliced to thinly marbled red perfection. With a careful tilt of the wine bottle, the waiter filled her glass first, wiping the edge of the opening with his folded cloth napkin in one smooth motion. Jungkook noticed the label of the bottle was a wax seal of a family crest with a handwritten brush script in looping characters. He could barely read what it said, but it was clearly very expensive dark red wine.

His mate raised her head to thank the waiter as Jungkook prayed for his bank account not to end in the negatives after tonight. But, really, did it matter? He was surprised to realize that he didn’t mind too much, especially after seeing the sparkling expression in those gold-flecked eyes as she curiously viewed her plate. The waiter poured him a glass too before placing the bottle on ice, bowing as he implored them to enjoy their meal.

That was the best steak that he had ever consumed to date.

Jungkook did not know, at the time, that it would leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

He did not know, at the time, that he would never, ever visit this establishment again. In fact, both of them would come to unconsciously avoid this type of place, at least for a long time. Yet, in the moment, he felt a rising, pure joy in seeing her spear her meat and dine with him so freely. So lovely. So normal, just like any other couple on a fancy date enjoying each other’s company. He asked if she was enjoying her meal. She nodded, and took a sip of her wine before licking her lips, her brows knitting together before relaxing.

“I think you’re supposed to swirl it a little and sniff it,” Jungkook whispered, holding his own glass as if it was a bomb. “To let out the aromatics or something.” He did not know if he was right or not.

“I can smell it very clearly,” she whispered back, but rocked her wrist regardless. Even she seemed unsure. “Dires do drink alcohol, but I’m told it has a stronger effect on humans than us. Our muscle density and blood chemistry are different.”

“Oh.” He called the Dires slamming shot after shot in the bars of Hongdae. “That’s why they drink so much…” He took a sip and tired not to grimace. It was smooth but quite intense. Then again, it was made to pair with raw meat, so it must be crafted to suit the Dire tastebuds.

“It’s mild. I like it.”

“Y… Yeah…”

She saw right through him. “You don’t like it?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t think I expected the flavor to be so concentrated.” He took another, smaller sip this time.

“Are you pleased with your selections?”

Both of them started and tried their best not to look as startled as their initial reaction. Their waiter had mysteriously appeared right next to their table, smiling, a little mischievously perhaps. His salt-and-pepper hair gleamed under the starry chandeliers above.

“U-Uh, yeah. Yes.” Jungkook cleared his throat. “It’s delicious.”

“Agreed.” She tipped the wine glass towards the waiter. “The red is wonderful. Thank you for suggesting it.”

“My pleasure.”

The waiter bowed deeply, forearm over his vest to smooth it over his apron as he stood up.

“Please, savor your time with us.”

It was not until later that Jungkook pondered on the phrasing of those parting words.

They ate. They drank. They fell deeper and deeper in love, staring into each other’s eyes.

She still had a few slices of meat left on her plate when he began to notice the gold streaks bleeding into her irises.

-

You were so absorbed in your conversation with Jungkook that you failed to notice the distant, unfamiliar sensation piercing your heart until it suddenly became white-hot pain.

Your palm hit the table with a resounding blow.

"Jungkook."

His name shot out of your mouth like a bullet. The pain intensified, forcing you to double over. His eyes went wide at your terrified whisper. Your other hand covered one of your eyes as the stabbing agony scalded through your veins at warp speed. Fuck, it hurt. And… power. You gasped, knocking over your glass, the white tablecloth hemorrhaging red, and suddenly you knew what it was – every single fiber of your being seized against your will, overtaken by devastating, inhuman, feral rage.

Your visible eye shot to the waiter.

The wine.

He smiled.

It was vindicative and cold. 

You poisoned me!

The wolf inside you tore at your insides, ravaged by wrath, breaking every shackle of internal control with alarming ease. You had never felt broken from your inner soul before, but it was happening, it was happening right now, and you cried out. Helpless. The sound of grinding bone. Fur already shooting through your fingers. Jimin and Taehyung at the other table springing to their feet. The growl in your throat unmistakable now and the other patrons gasped in terror. But not Jungkook. 

Your sun looked scared for you. 

Unlike him, you were dreadfully, horribly afraid.

"Jungkook... don't look for me," you pleaded.

You threw yourself out of your seat as silver black-tipped fur bristled all up your arms. Your back. Your legs. The sound of velvet tearing. The despairing feeling of losing your mind to an unstoppable force. Snapping your teeth, half-wolf, half-woman, blinding pain shooting throughout your body at the forced transformation and you tried to fight it. Tried so hard that you tasted blood as a disconcerting screech was ripped from your lungs. Bones cracking. Startling everyone around you as you crawled on all fours, hearing Jungkook calling after you, almost muffled due to your ears flattening against your head, your lips peeling back, sharpened teeth bared. Your shoulder blades grinded against each other, too big for your human form. Wicked black claws slashed the carpet, creating large gashes and deep channels into the wood underneath. 

You let out a bloodcurdling howl of pain.

The restaurant erupted into screams.

Jungkook shouting your name. 

You bellowed at the top of your lungs. 

"DO NOT FOLLOW!"

You must run. 

You ran. 

-

"Always an animal."

Jungkook spun around and punched the waiter in the face, right before Jimin and Taehyung tackled him to the ground. 

"Catch the bottle!" Jimin yelled as the man tried to swing an arm at the ice bucket. 

He caught it mid-air, not knowing where to look, after you or at this sicko with a black eye who definitely did something to you. There was still some wine in there. Taehyung was on his phone, speaking rapidly, and Jimin unforgivingly slammed his knee into the lower back of the waiter, silencing his horrible laughter. The restaurant was an uncontrolled chaos of wailing patrons.

Another violent, heinous howl silenced them all. 

You. 

Jungkook could recognize your broken voice fading into the distance. 

Do not follow. 

"Do not follow," Jimin wheezed. "Please, Jungkook, I know you want to, but do not follow."

He set his jaw and fell to one knee, landing right on the waiter's writhing hand. The man squealed in pain as the sirens sounded outside. 

"Only humans use underhanded tactics," he spat, his voice so low that it seemed to have a cutting edge. The man in Jimin's grip froze, his eyes wide, finally realizing he had pissed off the wrong person.

Jungkook snapped his teeth. 

"Animals fight head on."

-

The Alpha could smell it. 

Rage.  

Fear. 

His daughter. 

He bolted from his seat, forgetting his dinner. The servants started, but he could smell it, it, the horrible scent from memory. It was coming. Coming right for him. 

He howled. 

Loud, resolute, commanding. The servants immediately ran, dashing away, howling with him. The growing sound carried from the echoing stone castle to the homes into the woods, penetrating into the darkness, rising to the sky. The message was loud and clear. Run. Lock the doors. Barricade them. Stay inside. You will die.

The Berserker approaches.

There was the sound of splintering wood and a heavy thud. On all fours, the Alpha shot through the halls, his silver robes tearing apart as he ran. In his lifetime, this had happened only once before. Only once. The heavy pendants of his chain necklace slammed against his broad chest. The large black wolf bounded into the throne room, snarling, seeing his eyes burning gold in the glass of the window.

A silver blur crashed through the glass. 

Teeth, claws, blood, launching right at him. His beautiful daughter nearly the same size as him, a silver wolf with black-tipped fur, but she was there no more. Even the pupils of her eyes had been swallowed by gold fury. Full beast, no human to control the reigns, breaking his heart.

She looked exactly like her mother on her final day. 

He did not hesitate, throwing himself to the side so she missed. She caught herself on all fours, jaws snapping, viciously growling with black lips peeled back. No remorse. Only attack. She flung again and he twisted, but she was faster, slashing through his fur and drawing blood, cutting almost to the bone. 

The Alpha screamed, but not in physical pain. 

She wretched her claws out, swiping at him. 

No. 

No. 

Not his daughter too.

He dodged, throwing a chair into her path. She smashed it into splinters, roaring, all her fur bristling, awful flat glowing gold coins for eyes. 

Then for a split second. 

The Alpha had excellent eyesight. He swore he saw the slightest sliver of pleading. He narrowed his gaze, baring his teeth too as she began to stalk around him, her tail straight up, her pointed ears rigid. Pure aggression once more. The two gigantic wolves circled each other, their claws clicking against stone.

"I swear on my life I will save you, my daughter," the Alpha declared. "You must fight it."

She growled and slammed into him. 

-

part v

--

masterpost

[galvanizedfriend]

Fic: The Unexpected Grace of Falling Apart

Summary: AH/AU. It's Tyler's wedding weekend and Caroline is back in Mystic Falls for the first time after the most traumatic and depressing year of her life. And it's about to get even worse as she's made to share breathing space with Klaus, The Worst Guy Ever. Except they might have to join forces to save the wedding, and to the discovery that things might not be what the seem. As Caroline teeters on the edge of a breakdown she'd been trying very hard to conceal, an unexpected savior appears to help her through the haze.

---

About a year ago, Caroline met the worst guy ever.

No, really. The Worst.

Men are, as a general rule, pigs. If women were to make in-depth pro-versus-cons evaluations of every guy they met before deciding on whether to hook up with them or not - well. Let's just say the perpetuation of the human species would be in serious jeopardy.

There's only a handful of guys out there of a certain age, still single, who are really worth any woman's time, and Caroline hasn't had the pleasure of meeting many representatives of that rare, dying breed. Those are the real-life unicorns.

It doesn't help that Caroline seems to be a walking magnet for the dudebro kind. She doesn't know what it is about her that gets them to crawl out of sewers and holes in hell to greet her with their Hey there, gorgeous or Have I died and gone to heaven?s whenever she walks into a bar. It's probably the blonde hair. Men tend to get friskier around blonde women for some ancient misogynistic reason.

There have been moments in her life where her faith in the male half of humanity was so deeply shaken that she even - God forbid her - considered going a few shades darker. She's a natural blonde, though, and it takes her hours (and a small fortune) every few months at her colorist's chair to achieve that perfect sweet spot between kissed by sunshine and blessed by the angels for her to commit that crime against herself. Caroline's hair is the one part of her life that has remained absolutely flawless even when everything else around her has fallen apart, including her mental health and self-esteem. She refuses to dye it just because men can't bother to put some honest effort into updating their lame pick-up lines and yet, somehow, still expect her to have sex with them.

And the sad truth is, catch her on a bad night, and she just might. Horny melancholy is where a woman’s dignity goes to die.

It's exhausting to be a twenty-something woman in the XXI century. There's the pressure of making it in this godforsaken world as an adult, there's the pressure from society's understanding that a woman of her age should be looking for serious commitment with marriage in sight, and then there's also the pressure that stems from the very human needs of her hormonal body. It's a jungle out there.

Things would be so much easier if she didn't need men at all, not even for the specific parts of their anatomy that appeal to her. She really hopes next life brings her back as anything other than straight.

In the meantime, in this lifetime... The Worst Guy.

Caroline has met her fair share of jerks and idiots of all shapes and colors, so it takes something really special to shock her. As a seasoned woman in the woes of the dating market, she can 100% state that this guy is no ordinary asshole. This is a king among douchebags. And that's not just her personal opinion; she has shared the evidence with all her friends, and the friends of her friends, and all the women at her work, and even some random people at powder rooms at bars and parties. Basically, every woman in New York's grapevine who was willing to listen.

The collective response to her tale is always a disgusted gag sound, followed by Please, tell me you punched that son of a bitch or Did you gouge his eyes out with a hot poker?

If you discount abusive, aggressive and violent men, who are criminals and not in the same category as everyday lame-ass men, he really is The Worst.

Caroline doesn't like to say she's not over it yet because it implies bestowing a level of importance to His Royal Dickshness that is not merited. The guy was a friend of a friend - her best friend, yes, but still only a notch above a complete stranger. She’d known him for less than a week and, technically, they did no more than make out for a little bit, so it's not like they had any kind of relationship going on. He's not important, just some guy who did something astoundingly douchebaggy, even by someone whose standards are sadly low.

The whole incident was bound to go down as a funny anecdote to be shared among friends, a Oh, you think you've had the worst hook-up ever? Hold my beer kind of story. Provided, of course, that she never had to see him ever and could just wipe him out of her life and memory for good. Given that they live in different time zones, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.

That is precisely why Caroline is livid when she emerges from the arrivals area at Richmond airport to find Douchebag, in the flesh - sunglasses indoors and all, like the proper jerk that he is - holding up a sign that reads Clarisse.

Read the full story here

--

For four years, this was known as Random Fic, and so if you have been following me here, you might have heard me whine about it at some point. I've just decided on the title ten minutes ago. lol I can't believe this is finally done!

Thank you @definedareasofuncertainty for hearing me talk about this for almost as long as you've known me and never telling me to shut up.

As always, your kudos, comments and reblogs mean the world and have been feeding my fic-writing soul for four years so that I could get a grip and round this up. ❤️ Ty and if you read it, hope you enjoy it!

[casuallyanidiot]

Just read The Beta Test and it was really good!

But now I'm just imagining Javier walking in tomorrow, giddy. Only to realize that the plate of food he brought in yesterday wasn't eaten. Much. Our eyes look dark and our lips are parched. Thighs firmly pressing together, when we're awake.

We're on day three of no water or the ability to use a toilet. The food we did have wasn't easy for us to eat, we had to use our hands and probably tried to stick our face through the bars. So not only are our hands vaguely sticky, as are our clothes from trying to use them similar to a napkin. No. We're also sporting imprints of the bars on either side of our face. Maybe we fell asleep trying to eat? So we were pressed against those bars all night. We may even have bruises.

So we're just pitifully asking if we could have water or go to the bathroom.

This could easily lead into him trying to actually have to interact with us, or send down servants once a day to make sure we're doing well.

Also, I know that the girl he's probably trying to get with us us. But I'm just imagining him kidnapping us because we're best friends with a girl who was nice to him once. Little does Javier know, the girl he likes is also a Yandere. Towards [NAME].

Yandere BFF wants to know who to hurt for her friends disappearance.

Javier using maids to send down food and water when he doesn't want to talk to us. But Yandere BFF finds out where we were taken, through a phone tracking app she got us to install in case something ever happened at a party. So she disguises as a maid to bring down food, once she knows what's going on fully, so she can break us out.

Unfortunately for us, she takes this as an opportunity to tell us to move in with her. How she was oh so scared Javier would try to take [NAME] again. How scared she was to be alone in case he tried to go after her, after using telling her about how Javier wanted to date her. Like the ultimate manipulative yandere. And of course we stay with her! Best BFF, I need you're help untangling my hair and I need to pee, damn it. We do a spa night.

With Javier, [NAME] felt like an unworthy mutt locked in a kennel. Not even given basic human decency. But the BFF, whom I'll call Amy, makes us take care of our self and pampers us. She's kinda aggressive with it. Like, constantly doing each other's nails and face care while talking about our day and "Did you drink enough water?"

And yeah, she's clingy and constantly using the tracking app, but to be fair [NAME] was just kidnapped and the authorities didn't believe them when we told of who committed the crime. And she gives us privacy in our own room in the apartment. She just has cameras set up outside the windows so she can see what was outside it. And there was other cameras in the hall, living room, and a Ring camera doorbell for the same security. Not a single one was placed inside the private living areas.

Amy recommends [NAME] to switch to online classes. So we recommend the same to her. All their labs they need done in person is the few times they are seen outside for long periods of time. And they always try to schedule so one of them is free for the other's lab and neither are ever alone. Until finals, where they both have tests at the same time.

(I also personally like the thought Javier didn't like [NAME] like that until he kidnapped us and slowly opened up more. So, before we get broken out, Javier is trying to decide to stick to the original plan or keep us and start taking better care of us. After we get broken out, he bribes police, and [NAME] moves in with Amy; he's questioning if he just became love rivals with the person he previously had a crush on? He's also probably trying to do the mental math of if it's worth it to have both. Then he doesn't need to do much of the mental load. But he now is in increasingly hilarious situations where he's trying to out do an S-teir Yandere.)

I'm glad you like the Beta Test so much 😭

Honestly writing it is so fun and I really love Javier. he's such a gross little guy I can't help but love how insane he is. I think it would honestly be funny as hell to watch him and his like, bajillion dollar inheritance and boyfailure swag try and take on someone who is just as determined to have darling as he is if not more.

I'd like to see him try to spark his two braincells together to try and get back his now beloved "friend" lol

[sucrealacreme]

Supe Busters - Soldier Boy x female reader

Chapter Four

Summary : Vought has many secrets, project W is one of them. What happens when said project turns against them?

TRIGGER WARNING : Mention of sa (🍇), and graffic description of violence. At the second paragraph of Ashley. You are warned

Tonight was a normal one like every others. Same routine, same job. Except this night you were paired up with the “legendary Soldier Boy”.

Joint at the mouth, gun at hand, you couldn’t deny he looked incredibly good. If he wasn't such a dumbass and an assho-

“What did you say?” Ben turned to look at you with an intrigued expression on his already high looking face.

“I said nothing, the fuck you on?”

“Alright sweethearth lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you.” He said before taking a little puff. Who the hell does he thinks he is to talk to you this way?

“Alright, do you even know what we're about to do to act this way? Cause you seem clueless big Guy.” You were already over it with his attitude. For God's sake you were about to kill Shockwave. The guy assaulted three women repeatedly, and since the authorities weren't doing something, you would bring justice to his victims.

“Mind telling me again doll?” Ben said with a smirk. God he looked good. Not in a “I want a Quick fuck with you” way but more of a “I wouldn't mind Building a life with you” kind. He made you feel safe, I mean he’s a supe of course. But knowing he almost killed Homelander was sort of reassuring. She felt like she could breathe with a man like that. If you put aside his crimes, his old viens, and the trauma he comes along with. Oh no, you were lost in your thoughts again. Focus Y/n, it’s a life or death situation, not a dating one.

“Alright uhm, we have to eliminate Shockwaves and dissipate his remains. That’s my part. First, I’ll- hold on. Didn’t I tell you like ten minutes ago?”

“Yeah sorry, I’m just messing with you”He said while laughing.

Oh he was messing with you. You really hated when people did that, reminding you of your high school years. Sure, he probably didn't mean it in a mean way but it always made you feel self conscious. Like you were too dumb to get jokes.

You sudden quietness, made Soldier Boy confused. He heard you were quite the talkative person. Why were you so quiet? Did his joke offend you or something? Women and their times of the month, hormones fucking up everything. Tell you what, if it was his decision to make only, he wouldn’t such a sweet doll on the field like that. Too beautiful and pure to be messed up by war and fights.

It wasn’t the first time he saw you. He often saw you follow him throughout his missions. You always thought he didn’t notice you, but instead of you keeping an eye on him, it was him that was keeping an eye on you. He always made sure no one followed you, always breaking every security cameras. The first time you stalked him, he asked Butcher about you. He told Ben that you were a villain, a new set of toys for Vought to play with. You were unconsciously controlled by them, made to push fear into the population. Making them yearn for a bright hero to save them, salvage them.

Your abilities were simple, you could control atoms. Make them turn solid, liquid, into gaz, transform them, break them in half for energy, really anything. But, like every villains you had many weakness. Using those powers costed you a lot of energy. Not nuclear type of energy, just good old human energy. You could days on end if you pushed yourself too far. If you were his, he'd make sure you'd be at home, cooking, taking naps, and just being a happy little wife. Maybe one day who knows. Maybe one day

Ashley was at home when she injected the V. Her bones broke, her skin teared, her hair all grew back at once and her eyes were bloodshot. She was now on the floor, her breathing barely there. Tears kept making their way down her pale cheeks, just like the rain droplets on her window. She couldn’t move much, so she just laid there looking at them. Despite the pain, it was almost peaceful.

The lighting was warm and low, the sound of the raging storm outside along with her laboured breath and her tears hitting the floor were making her more and more sleepy. Maybe she could take a nap. Her fligjt was in three days after all and she took a one week long vacation months ago.

It was planned a long time ago, the fleeing I mean. After what happened between her and The Deep, she could barely get out of bed.

Why did he do that?

“Alright, we have to be really quiet ok. If he hears us we're fuc-”

*She wants that laffy taffy, that kiss Kiss kiss kiss-”

Your phone was ringing. Did Florence changer your alarm again?

“Fuck, hello?”

Ben had to take deep breaths not to laugh. What kind of goofy pussies would put that as an alarm and expect people not to laugh? It sounded like something the cum guzzler would do. Oh yeah, he probably has some lame ass phone ring.

“Hey,hey,hey, what do you mean a distraction?”

“Fuck,fuck,fuckkkk, we’ll be there in five ok o-o-or even less alright” You stopped the call and turned towards Ben.

“We have to go to the ‘Flat Iron Building’. That’ where your team is, do you know where it is?” You were becoming more and more agitated by the minute. Apparently the whole Shockwave allegations were false, and made to be a distraction for a Vought operation at the building where The Boys resides.

“Hey slow down angel, what's going on?” Ben knew one thing at that moment. If something dangerous was coming, he wouldn't be caught dead not protecting you. For some reasons, he was attracted to you like a magnet. Almost like a gravitational pull. But whatever it was, he wouldn't lose it. It grounded him, reminded him hewasnX't in Russia anymore.

Martin was one thing and one thing only at that moment. Stressed the hell out. If Vought happened to stumble on the files about them they would be dead in the next hour. He couldn't let that happen. No. His daughter wouldn't go through that.

Martin was aware of how it felt to live with an absent father. He would and will fight without anything stopping him to make sure Janine could live the best life.

And if that meant he had to flee the country or betray Butcher, the choice would be easy regardless.

It was 10 pm when Ashley finally broke out of her transe. Forehead covered in sweat, head pulsing like a heart, she went to take a shower. She felt so happy to be able to wash her hair again. To be able to put shampoo and conditioner on them and then let her hands brush through them. After that, she did her nightly routine before going towards her bedroom.

There, she started packing a few things for her great departure. Passport and essentials. She wasn't bringing her phone, her clothes or any cards with her. Cash only. She’d buy a new phone and clothes in Berne. She was scared Vought might have put airtags in her clothes. She saw them do it to even the most insignificant employe like the guy at the coffee shop in the building. So why would she be spared?

“Going somewhere Ash?”

That voice.

No.

Not again.

Ashley lunged at The Deep and the fight started.

“YOU RUINED MY LIFE YOU FISH FUCKER! I WASN'T AWARE YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?” A hit.”

“I WAS DRUNK AND HIGH OUT OF MY MIND! YOU RAPED ME YOU DISGUSTING FUCK! FUCK YOU KEVIN FUCK YOU YOU BASTARD” She screamed while beating him to death. She suddenly let out the loudest, most primal, guttural scream he heard. And in an instant, Kevin was gripping his ears, under the mercy of an unbearable pain. His ears, his eyes started bleeding. Ashley screamed louder and louder while punching him like a gorilla.

“STOP” Down. Up. Down. And up. his legs were broken, bones poking out like branches

“ASHLEY PLEASE I'M SORRY” Down. And up. And down. And up. Ashley felt euphoric, like she was freeing herself from years of pain. Kevin Torso broke under the hits, a rib stabbing his hearth.

“Ashley, please…” his face was now pale, his mouth pooling of the scarlet liquid. Then suddenly, nothing.

Ashley killed The Deep.

Ashley killed her rapist. With her own hands and voice.

Justice was finally served.

When Y/n entered the Flat Iron Building, she smelled the compound V. Actual compound V. Not temp V, not the thing flowing through the Supe Busters veins. No, real, fresh compound V.

Oh how she could recognize that one. She had been tracking that one for a while now. Along with Soldier Boy of course. Ben was a side quest, something to occupy her free time. But that one? Tek Night? Now that was another thing. She had been careful with that one. After all, his senses were extremely heightened.

She had her smell covered, Florence bending the light for her to be invisible, her sounds also muffled by the latter. So to know she finally had a chance to end him, she was more than ecstatic. He was a violent, racist piece of shit. He had caused multiple tragedies by accusing the wrong people, exploding things left and right, abusing both men and women. The whole abuse thing was common in the supe community. That's why Vought protected them so much. Can't really sell the whole hero narrative if 90% of your “heroes” have sexual assault cases uh?

Pulling yourself out of your thought you signalled Ben to go before you. After all he had super strength, not you. You needed someone to distract the guy while pulling out the compound V.

Walking up one stair at a time, shield at one hand and gun in the other, Ben was ready to attack. When they arrived at the right floor, Ben put you at a safe distance before opening the door. There, he saw Tek Knight looking out the windows.

“I heard you miles down, you aren't very subtle you kn-” He was cut off by an unending agony. It was spreading through his head, hands, legs, everywhere.

“HEY HEY HEY STOP IT URGH..W-WE CAN T-TALKK”

“I don't speak to supes .” You said before ripping the V out of his body. You turned it to the simples thing : water.

“NO PLEASE PLEASE” He didn't know what he was begging for, but seeing how Soldier Boy was walking forward slowly like a predator at his prey, he knew he was dead.

And he was. Ben put the gun at his belt, took the shield with both hands and crashed it agaisnt his skull. His bones made a loud cracking noise. And Ben repeated the action four times. You were now in charge of putting the body away. That wasn't hard. You simply turned him into air. No traces. No evidence. No suspect.

Just panic that would surge in a few days.

A/n : I wrote this as best as I could, again leave 10 notes in order to have the fifth chapter, hoped yall liked it😊

@demodemo909 @weaponxgames

[mechanicalriddle]

OCtober DAY 3: Old OC (i know im posting this on day 5. I know. I dont know what to tell you V_V):

I'm playing a trick on you because this guy is new AND old. Mostly old, because he actually dates back all the way to shortly after the creation of the FIRST EXALTED CHARACTER I EVER PLAYED. which may actually be like seven fucking years ago at this point. Anyway, meet Niraj.

Cynis Niraj is a dynast, a member of the ruling class of the (standard) Exalted setting. He belongs to a dynasty known as the Scarlet Empire, frequently shorthanded to the Realm. The Realm is made up of a family of Exalted called Dragonbloods, these being the weakest but most numerous sort, as their exaltation is ostensibly 'carried in the blood' rather than bestowed.

This creates about as many problems as you would expect it would.

Anyway, dragonbloods are aligned to one of five elemental dragons- fire, air, wood, water, and earth. A lot of them are descendants of the powerful figurehead known as the Scarlet Empress, and they tend to be rich as shit and probably inbred to some degree.

Niraj is no exception to the dynastic stereotypes; House Cynis made its fortunes on the imperial drug trade, as well as partnering with the guild on their... human trafficking ventures. He is a pothead wizard and a snobby little bitch, and the best friend of the Anathema Ledaal Tedeo, though that's on a need to know basis, and maybe three people need to know that. As a matter of fact he was at the scene of the crime when Ted was Chosen, except-

-Well there's an important thing you should know here, which is that in Exalted lore, Heaven deposed the Solar Deliberative thousands of years ago. By killing... Pretty much all of them. And then capturing as many of their exaltations they could find, and putting them in a big vault under the sea. And then creating a new religion which would brand anything that looked like a Solar (or Lunar, for that matter) as a demon-cavorting wild and wicked monster that must be hunted to extinction. By the Dragonbloods. Dragonblooded are not supposed to be friends with Solars. Solars aren't supposed to be human. Solars are supposed to die.

By association, one could also be branded as an anathema for his aiding and abetting a known anathema such as Ledaal Tedeo.

But we're not talking about Ledaal Tedeo. We're talking about Cynis Niraj, who is like, a little bit gay. Just like a leeeeeeeeettle bit gay. He's just gay and just sentimental enough that he's decided he doesn't want his best friend getting put down like a dog, even if it means turnabout is a fair excuse to also get put down like a dog. Every day his house of cards adds a new one to the stack. But it's fine, because water aspects are supposed to be good at the cloak and dagger courtly espionage thing. Its sort of their whole schtick.

Like any young dragon of the realm, Niraj is desperately obsessed with appearances. If you thought your highschool experience was bad, DBs are on a whole new level of psychological warfare being that the honor of their house is constantly on the line. They're trained from a young age to engage in cutthroat social combat with their peers, preparing them for a future where nearly anything about them is assumed to be weaponized against them. Niraj spent a long time teaching himself how to be """cool""". Stay on the periphery of drama, never be embroiled in it. He provided the benefits of a direct mainline to quality Cynis intoxicants to his peers as a social lubricant to keep himself out of trouble. He learned to let insults slide cleanly off of him.

This didn't really fully work for a couple of reasons; one being that there are certain personality types in Dynastic schooling that see a guy like that and wonder exactly what it will take to make him snap. Secondly, he did take an unusual fondness towards one of their mortal peers, widely disliked for continuing his schooling after failing to exalt (....as a dragonblood) during his adolescence. Niraj simply appreciated his capacity for earnestness, a trait which was vanishingly rare in his circles, and would inevitably rub off on him - at least a little bit.

All Niraj asked for in exchange was his charge's complete confidence.

Ted always thought of Niraj's companionship as sort of like having a pet leopard with an admirable track record of not mauling him. He certainly has the capacity to, if he really wanted. He chooses not to, for reasons one can pretend to fathom, but will never actually understand. It's almost as though he enjoys the sensation of human hands running through his soft fur, but its hard to say for certain.

Currently Niraj is stuck participating in a Wyld Hunt- the sacred mission partaken by dragonblooded shikari (and their immaculate coterie) to find and successfully bring down threats to the Order. Niraj is indispensable to this mission on account of valuable information he may have due to his proximity to the target (Or at least, the leader of the Wyld Hunt, Sesus Varen, seems to think.) Fortunately nobody on the team seems to think that the young water aspect would have the fucking cojones to feed them a constant influx of false information for several months, something which is rapidly driving him toward his breaking point. Unfortunately Ted is no longer answering his calls, and things are getting weird quick. To top it all off, perhaps the strangest detail is that the person Varen is hunting to the ends of the earth also happens to be his own son. And while Varen has never been a particularly attentive father, it almost seems a bit weird, the zealotry with which he pursues his mission, and the lack of hesitation at the prospect of completing its penultimate goal.

Will Niraj lose it all for the sake of authenticity? Or will Ted's lousy anathema hunter father finally get to him?

Only time will tell.

Some fun facts now, cuz fuck it.

He/him, 21yrs. Essence 3 ish, 5'8" tall

He's the son of lesbian drug magnates, and the last of a prodigious wood aspected lineage, and nobodys sure why it suddenly decided to veer into water territory, but Blood of the Dragons is Blood of the Dragons sooooo....

Went to The Heptagram (foremost academy of sorcery in the Realm, and probably all of creation) seemingly on a whim

just kidding he subconsciously wanted to trans his gender with sorcery. later he wanted to consciously trans his gender with sorcery.

and then he did it ^_^

Exalted while playing chicken on the seawall in his hometown & almost drowning, miraculously managing to not kill anyone in his essence fever-rage

(not for lack of trying)

Despite not being a wood aspect, likes plants a lot. And not just the ones that make you funny, he also has (or had) a painstakingly maintained orchid collection back in school

I didnt talk about him publicly for a very long time specifically because I loved keeping my fellow players in suspense about what this guy was actually like. All they got was occasional magical correspondences and a name, no face, no house for a long time, no other identifies. It was fun. But I'm also very happy I get to talk about him finally :3

I consider him an old oc because Ive had him for like seven years. He's new because I only recently started a pbp with him! which, speaking of, I should really get to responding to. so...

ta ta~

[neppednep]

Dating Elsa Granhiert HCs

Content warnings: Mentions of gore and cannibalism.

》 First, congratulations for winning the heart of the Bowel Hunter without losing your intestines. Though she may not have killed you, you can not fix her. You may be her S/O, but she will not stop killing for you.

》 It's probably best you accept that before you find yourself as another name on her list of victims.

》 If you manage to look past the whole killing people thing, she can be very sweet. She's not the best at showing her feelings or really anything romantic, but she tries.

》 You're probably her first relationship, so be patient. After growing up on the streets of Gusteko, only to get out of there and go through all the things that she did, you can't really blame her for how she turned out. She can sometimes remind you of a child with their first crush or a puppy glued to their owner's side with how she acts around you, though.

》 As stated earlier, she really tries to show her affection towards you, definitely not in conventional ways. Whether you're a noble, commoner, or something in between, she'll make sure you're well taken care of.

- You're a merchant who has a rival trying to steal your customers? Dead. Body proudly displayed in front of their shop.

- You're broke? Here's a bunch of coins and other various expensive items she took from her victims.

- If you're a noble, having the notorious Bowel Hunter doing your dirty work and keeping you safe is definitely a plus.

- Cold? Very touch starved. Her body is surprisingly warm and soft, so enjoy it while you can. (Try not to bring up that time she decided to cover the two of you in fresh intestines.)

- Maybe, you're just as crazy as she is and just want to kill people every now and then. Well... let's just say you'll make attacks from the three great mabeasts look like nothing in comparison to what'll happen to the citizens of Lugunica.

- She is also great at sewing. She can help you with clothes, blankets, or whatever else you need. She even made dolls of the two of you.

》 Speaking of Lugunica, there are very few people who can keep you safer than the immortal assassin. With how clingy and possessive she can get, unless you somehow manage to provoke the wrath of the world governments or the Witch Cults, you can sleep easy knowing that Elsa has your back. Even if some innocents may get caught in the crossfire...

》 Do not let her anywhere near a kitchen. Her crimes against humanity does not just stop at murder.

》 Elsa doesn't really do much. If she's not on a job, which can last for a day to a couple of weeks, the two of you are usually lazing. So long as she's by your side, she's content, even if you two aren't really doing anything exciting.

》 Dates include... anything, really. Walking through a market, riding a mabeast, or going on a family trip to the capital with Meili. She's not picky. She may even take you on one of her jobs to show off a bit. Even if it may be a little disturbing, praise her and act impressed. She'll light up and be a happy Elsa for the foreseeable future. There is nothing better than two of her favorite things together.

》 Speaking of Meili, take care of her. She's like a little sister to Elsa, so it would mean a lot to her. Wherever Elsa goes, Meili is likely to follow. Play nice with her, and Elsa will only grow to love you more. It'll be like her own little family, something she's been depraved of her entire life.

》 Plenty of pet mabeasts to go along with that.

》 Basically, dating Elsa is a rollercoaster. One second, she's the equivalent of a housewife trying to patch in a hole in your pants, the next she's slicing open the stomach of some poor schmuck who looked at you the wrong way. Much more wholesame than you may have expected, though.

》 Just don't let Mother find out about your relationship.

[anteroom-of-death]

Spin in the City, chapter 1

Synopsis: Malcolm Tucker is back in London and trying to gain employment. He grieves and plays himself openly.

A/N: another story from ME! I layer and add symbolism. There's many things wrong with me. Comments and thoughts appreciated...

Malcolm brushed his teeth, a task that got harder every day. Fuck, his depression and his arthritis starting to flare up every day for making it harder to operate this useless sack of cum.

He fucking understood he was sixty-two. He fucking got the message. Loud as the tinnitus he had from decades of screaming into a phone.

The taps stayed on as he paced in his old home. Sam convinced him to keep his Tottenham home when they got married and moved into their cottage in Wick. Storage and they could rent out the parking for a small fee.

His chest began that familiar widower’s ache.

Here he was back in the radioactive shithole that was England, yet alone London, their little home for a few years on the market. He couldn’t bear to keep it. A happy little thatched-roof where he saw his niece married last year. The place where they genuinely tried to live a life far removed from the cunts who framed him and used his existence to pass legislation.

The cozy little sitting room where the best fucking woman to ever exist breathed her last in May. (Possibly even the best fucking human to ever exist, but Malcolm admitted he may have heavy biases.)

He couldn’t bear it.

Fuck that.

Fuck this.

He just needed out and for something to do. Someone else to be for a bit.

He was shocked to find someone who was willing to interview him. Especially so quickly.

Maybe it was just because it was an American woman… no one from this Island or Northern Ireland would probably have him.

She sounded posh and mature, if not a tad bit full of herself.

He googled her separately from the firm she partnered with when he first saw the offer slide through his inbox from the recruitment service.

Confident, blonde and everywhere. She embodied the social elite of New York City. Dated celebrities and moguls, was friends with sex columnists and lawyers, hosted extravagant parties and had an endless string of sexy outfits. She seemed plenty intelligent and had eyes like a hawk with the posture befitting and outclassing any model.

Not particularly his type. He always liked demure brunettes with something deeply wrong behind the surface. Both of his wives were.

Not that Sam and Elaine were anything alike. No, Elaine was some hag bitch journo from hell whom he frequently thought of trying to start some political movement her for the entire goddamn world’s protection. Sam just was both a sadist and a sweetheart at once.

He shoved those thoughts down as he called an Uber and collected the folder he made of his accomplishments over the years.

He didn’t want to cry before his interview.

Or give off the impression that Malcolm F. Tucker was someone who had the capacity to cry.

The suit felt itchy and constricting against his being. Not unlike a noose, it felt so alien to wear one after years of Aran sweaters and jeans with flannels. The man who wore suits was executed for his alleged crimes in 2012. This man? In 2021? No.

This man was a new man, older, tired and more timid than he liked to admit.

He just needed to do something, be something. Anything but some begrieved widower with increasingly dead eyes.

The firm was a stone’s throw from his old stomping grounds in Number 10 and Westminster.

Nonetheless, he trudged onward into the office.

It was modern and luxurious inside. Nothing too ostentatious, but the bright lights and plush chair the receptionist led him to wait for Samantha Jones but his teeth on edge. Her desk was simple and glass, only a small stack of papers, a pen and a sleek laptop were on display.

He would have thought something vulgar, but he was trying not to. He was also on display.

The woman glided in, clad in something that seemed custom-made. He was no fashion expert, Sam always just bought him his suits and gave him the bill to forward to treasury for reimbursement. Once in a while he’d recognize a name from one of the designers on the high streets or the luxury shops in richer areas that were bespoke.

His perfect Sam. Knew him better than he did himself…

Malcolm got up and offered her his hand. She took it, her handshake firmer than any man in politics and twice as assertive. She had a bizarre smile on her face. One that was un-fucking-readable.

Probably some American blow-off look. They did love their meaningless grins and fucking pointless niceties.

It was fascinating to him how an entire country operated on the same system of etiquette as pointless cabinet members with worse agendas.

She sat down and clicked something on her file and looked at his CV. The half-second she held each in her line of vision seemed to go on for eternity.

“Cut the bullshit, Malc. Why does someone like you want to demean yourself working for me?” She leaned back and bore her eyes into his soul, (he highly debated that he had a soul, but if he did, Samantha Jones was staring straight at it…) her index finger resting just behind a broach cleverly disguised as an earring.

Now Malcolm had the luxury of choice. Did he tell the truth or did he fabricate and spin a nice little falsehood?

What did he say to that emaciated Oxbridge twat that stole his place? Rabbits and hats? That rant came barreling back and hit him clearly between the eyes.

He had to act.

“Retirement isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, isn’t it, love?”

She clearly didn’t enjoy that response. Her eyes narrowed and he felt like he was melting quicker than a cone in the hand of toddler with ADHD during a heatwave. He had to amend his statement and do a little backtracking.

“Samantha, can I call you Samantha?” He felt his hand extend and the glimmer of his old self surface.

“Miss Jones.”

“Right. Miss Jones.” He nodded along. “I don’t expect you to care, but I can’t live how I was living. A man’s got to have a purpose. Can’t sit by the sea waiting to fucking pass from Parkinzeimers, can he?” Blatant honesty covered in bravado.

He thought he saw a flash of something behind her eyes, he didn’t want to dig himself a bigger hole. So he left that statement at that.

She was judging him. He felt cornered.

He didn’t like this.

“Don’t play games with me. I know there’s more than- “She gestured broadly towards his entire being, “Being purposeless.”

He deflated and decided to tell an unvarnished truth. No spin, no anything, he even pulled himself back from swearing. “I’ve worked since I was 8. I haven’t not worked my entire life. I spent a few years living a life I didn’t know a boy from Gorbals could get. It’s dead and gone. Give me something to do.” He gave plaintive plea as a firm demand.

He could physically see the gears turning in her mind. He obviously was a risky investment.

She pursed her lips.

“Trial period, I’ll have my assistant send you a temporary contract.”

Thank fuck, he relaxed.

“Don’t pull anything like you did to Mr. Tickel or I’ll have you unable to even run the tills at Iceland.” She levied against him as she got up and offered him a hand. The interview was over and she wanted him out of her office.

“Fair fucking offer.” He took her hand, yet again noticing her grasp and the fact you could feel her obviously well-earned cockiness radiating from the cells in her hand alone.

He felt himself crumple in the lift ride down.

Maybe it was too soon to work?

No, this was the right thing to do. There wasn’t anything for him left. Might as well fucking slide back in the old skin suit and concern himself with every wanker’s business except his own. Would keep his mind torn off of his intelligent, beautiful and loving bride dying from breast cancer than neither of them knew she had. She got the diagnosis too late and the chemotherapy was too rough.

It fucking shattered her.

She took the peaceful route, die with dignity in her home, surrounded by loved ones.

That was the type of woman she was. Quiet, simple and dignified. She did the job and did it well. Even dying was a class-act from her.

He missed her more every moment.

He got home and let himself cry, first time since he watched the life slip away from her eyes. It took hours and he felt literally disemboweled after it.

The email app on his phone pinged.

It was Miss Jones’ assistant. His contract was in for him to review and sign.

He didn’t know how he’d spun this far out of control…

[saltyr3mix]

DROP THE TELEVISION LORE FOR THE STEVEN UNIVERSE AU DO IT NOW

well if you insist anon :)

SO! Damien and Oliver are just guys. Regular humans like Wiatt who live in Dream City doing every day things with no worries or concerns ever.

Damien is still a detective but there's not a lot of crime here. He just has one case from a few years ago connected too here that, he couldn't solve, it bothers him enough to make him not want to leave. So he does most of his work online. He lives with his sibling Celio.

Oliver is just sort of around? He's lived here his whole life after his parents abandoned him at a gas station here when he was younger. And so he knows everyone. Everyone knows him. He's still super anxious and shy, but when it's needed he's a really good communicator. Lives by himself and probably works at the local amusement park/, board walk.

then one day as their catching up over coffee their good friend wiatt kicks open the door and excitedly starts screaming about.... Aliens?

Wiatt never been the most serious person and so they ask to see pictures, as their good friend carries around a camera to an almost uncanny degree.

Sure enough those are....real photos of creatures that certainly aren't human.

Wiatt then rambles on about he's been talking with them for a month or two and how all of them have different personalities and how their like a family each other and can do a bunch of weird shit. But most importantly, he wants Damien and Oliver to meet them!

Oliver's immediately like absolutely no way. But Damien says sure, he's curious. And Oliver decides that if Damien can then he can too!

When they get there Damien becomes a lot more intimated by the creature, but once Oliver realizes how friendly they are he starts making jokes and talking along with them nicely.

Time passes and the more they see the gems the more comfortable they are with them. They help around the city and apparently wiatt lives with them. In a house the rest of the city helped build fire them. So what's the harm?

today they were supposed to be having a game night. Oliver was looking forward to it, Damien wasn't. But they mange to get up to the house about 45 minutes late.

This was the worst mistake of their lives.

They knock on the door. And there isn't an answer. The lights are off. did Oliver get the date wrong? He pulls out his phone to check and Damiens muttering his name trying to get his attention.

Oliver's trying to pull up the calendar and ignores him but Damien just puts a hand over the device and gestures to the ocean in front of the house.

There's a large pink thing laying down in the water. And an even larger pink gem, coming over.

She's massive and looms over them. Bigger than any of the other gems by far. They had thought this small group was the only one. How were there more!?

They try talking to her, and apparently she came to visit to mourn her brother. A gem who was supposed to be as big as her but yellow. He had died in a war? There were enough gems to have a war!?!

She laughed at their fear. She said they were cute, that she....thought they were interesting.

And then their trapped in unbreakable clear, pink tinted spheres and be carried out to space.

Apparently the gem, diamond is what she called herself? But also referred to others as?

Their just going to call her pink.

Apparently what being interesting meant was being locked in a cell with the bare minimum of food and water they needed to survive on, for a week or two.

They're in the cell together so it's fine. They can only hope they we're good enough friends with the other gems that they'll come and save them.

Then this really annoying purple guy comes in and drags Damien out with some flamboyant threat. And Oliver is helpless against it.

Damien is taken and forced on to a medical table and is strapped down with some crazy technology that's unbreakable.

They don't knock him out. Or explain what their doing. Pink only hums to herself as she starts the surgery. She cuts out his eye and replaces it with a shard of a sparkling blue gem. He passes out from pain.

When he wakes up agian it's very difficult to see, not because his eyes is missing, but because he is seeing too many things. He sees pinks assistant in the cell with him, he sees himself talking to a really weird looking gem. He sees Oliver going through the same treatment- not even in the same room as him. And it all feels so final, yet not real.

he doesn't get time to calm down from his panic as that annoying purple gem from earlier bursts in and starts interrogation him. Only Damien, has a little time to prepare - he- he knows what the alien is going to ask and can control himself just enough to answer with out breaking down.

"Can you see the future?" Was one of the final questions.

Damien didn't answer

"Sapphire" the pearl calls out. And he has to respond to authority. Especially a diamonds pearl.

"yes."

AND WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT- his head spins. All of that gem gibberish suddenly made complete sense to him. And he knew all the names and classes and that he was a sapphire- and he knew exactly what that meant. Not only is he dealing with visions of the future but memories and feelings of the past. Ones that aren't his- like how thankful he should be that a diamond chose him for this. Or how happy he was to support their loyalty system.

Damien wanted to strangle those memories and throw them into lava.

Oliver goes through something very similar but with Nephrite. And instead of being home world loyal, he despises the diamonds to no extent. He hates them more than any other creature in the galaxy. He becomes so consumed by hate and anger he nearly looses himself. But luckily he's put in the cell next to Damien so they still have eachother.

And it's just Oliver and Damien, and Damien and Oliver and that one really weird guy in the cell across from them-

What.

THATS RIGHT CHAT!! TWINS TIME!!!! ONLY TOOK WAY TO LONG TO GET HERE LOL.

When talked to it becomes very clear that it's actually two gems! Just....stuck. they help exposition dump and explain how since the war there was been a high increase in shattered gems, higher than ever before. Their economy is taking a hit from it. Gems aren't meant to die in bulk. So Sara is trying to find ways to recycle the shards.

She tried using some fusion tactics and her healing powers to get different gem shards together to work, but most of those experiments became mindless and not effective enough. The twins are the only result that hasn't turned into a cluster amalgimation type thing yet.

Yeah the 4 truma bond and are subjected to different other unethical experiments? Can the humans fuse? Yes- they don't like to talk about it. How long can they go with those weak human necessities? Long enough that they stopped getting fed entirely.

They have a set of three ruby guards whose job is to whatch over them. Their actually pretty sweet, just doing what their supposed to do. No matter if they wince and pout Everytime they see one of the experiments get thrown back in the cell looking worse than before.

Damien knows they get out at some point. He can see it. But it's going to take a while.

This goes on for several months. Then the lab is attacked by something! Either way an opportunity presents it self and they escape!!! Are taken back by the CG but are so irreversibly changed mentally, and physically by that point that they feel just entirely different on them, then from how they were before they left.

They take the twins with them too. Cause they can and Oliver really likes them. You don't just abandon your trauma buddies.

From there nothing really important happens to speficly them. Their there for all the important events but nothing else is really centered on them, they go back to being like the C plot once Carly and the Triplets are doing there thing and then the whole thing with Morris happens and yeah they just kinda went thru all that.

Over time they start to get more traits of their gems the more it sinks into their system. Celio has been finding different ways to abuse Damiens ice powers, for better and worse. Oliver sorta just makes the twins his responsibility. They also have just so many issues. And so they live with him because reasons.

Both the Semi-humans hair becomes super fluffy and Oliver can drive just about any vehicle and has a new fascination with the sky. Damien is left with new crisis every day as he just sort of knows when everything bad is going to happen and plays Carney in a coal mine almost and starts warning people of things.

Hey! At least he ended up solving that case! Well it sort of solved itself but he caught a glimpse of Alyssa looking at the memorial service and was like . Oh. That that makes sense. No shit I wasn't able to solve aliens were involved. I'm not Letting that count on my record.

And then everythings fine for now! Still working on the plot so things might change but thats them!! Hope you enjoyed the television rant!!!

[ewingstan]

A post you reblogged earlier tonight made me wonder what was going on with Beast and Krakoa lately. So I did a little research and got fewer answers than I'd like.

I found a bunch of Reddit posts vaguely alluding to Hank McCoy "going Walter White" or running "the mutant CIA" or committing crimes against humanity. I found a blog post which made a quick list of Hank's specific crimes and gave a quick summary of his history which doesn't explain why he did any of those things. I found another blog post which went into more detail...about how Beast's history doesn't actually line up with what he's doing now.

(It also has the line "THIS RACE WAR COULD HAVE BEEN AN E-MAIL," which made it worth reading even if it didn't answer my specific questions.)

It sounds like X-Force was a critical point in Hank's face-heel turn (or whatever happened). And it sounds like he's been a mutant-supremacist dickwad since...probably 2020 or so? But that's about all I've been able to figure out.

Is this a simple case of the writers making Beast act like a different character because they need that character more than they need Beast? Is it something complicated that can't be explained to someone unfamiliar with the context of X-Force? Or is it somewhere in the middle?

I’ll be honest, I haven’t been keeping up with Krakoa stuff since I got locked out of my Marvel streaming service and was too lazy to figure out where to pirate it. Sometime after the Judgement Day event. If my response below is out of date, anyone reading can feel free to update me.

What I can say is I read a lot of early Krakoa x-force, and it involved a lot of Beast ordering people to brainwash countries and assassin are babies and what have you, and the whole thing being a bit “we stay dirty so the world stays clean” with him doing things that Xavier wouldn’t sign off on, but Xavier putting him in charge so he wouldn’t have to know and sign off on them. Though most of the atrocities were completely unnecessary, which in the one hand kinda works as a criticism of that attitude but on the other hand made the fact that he was doing them all the more bizarre.

I don’t know much about the history of Beast as a character, but from what I understand while he has had a slide into being a bit darker and more unpleasant a character over the years, but it was more in a “self-destructive with his relationships” kind of way, or even a “I’m gonna do a big science thing without really thinking about it because the author wants something to happen but doesn’t want to work hard justifying it” sort of way. Not really in a “I’m gonna tie people to trolleys to justify pulling the trolley lever” kind of way. I think Benjamin Percy is just an edgelord.

[daylightdreamscape]

unsolicited opinion

Every time something new happens I get asks about what I think of this or that, I never understood why my opinion (and of other blogs) matters so much, am I some kind of Influencer or what? (cadê meus mimos brasil) so I decided to make this post to clarify some points once and for all.

So here we go

Will I leave the fandom or him for some reason?

probably yes, in the same way that I gain interest and become obsessed with something very quickly, I also lose interest very quickly (hello my fellow Aquarians, how are you?), at the moment I'm focused on a hobby that I love and had long since left behind, reading! (Hey Devil's night fans, who's your favorite horseman and why is it Kai?)

are you losing interest because of her? NO! Do you like her? Nooh Oh, it's because you are jealous

over a man that don't even know I exist? (o que é isso, um filme)

I just don't like her, her personality, her energy, and that's it Do I think she is a racist? It's not my place to speak, and I feel sorry for anyone who was offended by her actions. Do you talk about her on private groups? yes, who don't gossip with friends, It's human nature

are you on LSA?

YES, and I already talked about it here, but apparently some people were dying to share this informatio, I was chrisevans there but now I'm 12AM RAIN (midnight rain the best song of the album) that place sure can be toxic af, like any other place, the problem is not the plataform, it's the users, and that's why I'm not on the main thread anymore, I made great friends there and I love my group (one of the girls reminder of me right after Taylor shared the international dates and she sent me a realy nice message about the show, isn’t good when someone see something they know you like and remember of you? ). and I'm also on discord groups, that's not a crime.

but some people cross boundaries here, you don't like her? I get you, I swear I do, what I don't understand is why you spend so much energy and time talking about something you're not going to change no matter how much you talk about it.

you are a hypocritical stalker.

this is my favorite one, I do know a lot of information about him that I learned against my will, I was wrong to trust this information to some people I trusted, lesson learned.

and

I think I said everything I wanted to, have a nice day/week/year

[goodluckclove]

I spent a long time avoiding Breaking Bad. I knew it was good - prestige television and the like. It just. Felt like a lot?

But Riley got me to watch Better Call Saul around the time we first started dating because I found out it starred Bob Odenkirk and I'm big into Mister Show (my love for improv and sketch comedy is vast and gross and the reason why I met my wife). I was crazy into it. It took me a while after that, but Riley brought up checking out the original show (The Bad as we Hardcore Fans call it) and I agreed to check it out.

So imagine my surprise when, after hearing so many assholes on the internet talk about how Badass and Cool Walter White was for like ten years, I realize immediately that he is probably the biggest loser in that era of television.

For those of you unaware, Vince Gilligan's Breaking Bad follows family man and resigned high school chemistry teacher Walter White. He is diagnosed with lung cancer and proceeds to spend five seasons of TV barely able to do a single crime without fucking it up. Walt fumbles pretty much every step of the way and is shocked when there are consequences to his actions, even though he does no research and makes a point to do all his worst felonies in the same dedicated Crime Hat.

I hate this hat. This hat is so, so dumb. While I fully think that the vitriol against the character of Skyler White (Walt's wife) is absolutely unfounded and a lot of her behavior is justified within the context of her being a super pregnant mother whose cancer-ridden husband starts acting unstable - the one fault I have with her character is that she saw Walt walk in with his New Crime Hat and didn't immediately burst out laughing. The hat sucks. On multiple occasions Walt is recognized and prevented from doing Crimes purely on the basis of someone recognizing his Crime Hat.

"Oh it's a reference to the French Connection" - yeah man and I bet Walt did that on purpose because he is absolutely insufferable and terrible at crime.

Legitimately every other character in this show, none of which are characterized for their Sick Crime Skills, are better at crimes than Walter White. They make better alibis. They're more thorough. They have - you know - skills and capabilities. Eventually a baby is introduced and I bet that baby could distribute meth better than Walter White.

I am not immune to depictions of toxic masculinity that people accidentally consider cool. When I was 13 I made my sister help me record a shot-by-shot reenactment of Paul Allen's death scene from American Psycho where I played Patrick Bateman. I still remember most of the monologue.

But honestly. Honestly? I cannot figure out why so many people found Walter White cool. I cannot see it and I feel like I'm going insane. I keep asking Riley to confirm that at one point he was like a prototypical Joker figure in culture. This reverence is unfathomable to me. Not only do I not see Walter White as a cool guy, I'm nearly certain the writers and directors and Bryan Cranston himself don't think he's cool.

Riley called him an antihero but I argued for that to be accurate he'd have to exhibit behavior that could be considered heroic in an unconventional sense. I'm midway into season four and I haven't seen do anything that wasn't based in ego at best.

I feel tempted to think that the Mandela Effect is real and my reality split from a prior one where people thought Walter White was awesome and would be willing to spend Human Currency on a silicon mask of what is essentially just a middle aged white man. No other explanation makes sense.

Anyways it's a really good show. Fantastic performances all around, including Aaron Paul's portrayal of Jesse which is actually way more sympathetic and nuanced than the memes online at the time made it sound. Writing is great, acting is great, the directing is a little on the nose sometimes with the Symbolism but it's pretty thought out. Very fun watch.

[oumaheroes]

helloooo, i was wondering if you have any fruk birthday headcanons teehee. like do they get each other gifts, do they plan a party of sorts? btw i really super duper love your fics and ficlets!! thank you for writing and posting them <3

Thank you! 🥹❤

In nationverse, I think they'd give each other gifts but probably not for birthdays and probably not every year.

Mainly this is because I don't think they have fixed birthdays in the sense that humans do, or that the ones they use now are really modern in comparison to how old they are. Gift-wise, I think they're far more likely to be consistent with welcoming/ host presents, and festivities such as Christmas, rather than birthday celebrations.

It was a big deal once upon a time to travel -what we consider to be only short trips today used to take hours or days on horseback- and cross-country travel over the English Channel would have been an ordeal that resulted in staying somewhere for a while, several months at least. No quick trips across the channel for a weekend- oh no! You were there for a season or half a year at times (It's why in period dramas and books there's always someone staying in someone else's house for a few months. It took so long to visit friends that you expected, and would be expected, to live with them for a while)

Visiting with Royalty, visiting as ambassadors or nobility, or visiting as themselves with little better to do than see how the idiot across the water is getting on, Arthur and Francis would bring each other gifts as the formality of the occasion dictated. If someone important was watching, the gift was usually expensive, rare, and probably a chance to show off something new and desirable from one culture that the other didn't have. If they're alone together though, or in quieter, calmer times, the gift would be more sentimental or personal. Spices or fruits from somewhere new that they genuinely want the other to try. A new type of textile weave, dyed in blues and purples for them to wear. Something hand carved of an in-joke, or a beautiful piece of furniture that they know will suit the other’s taste.

This is going very far off tangent from your original ask lol

For birthday parties, in previous centuries no, they didn’t throw one for each other. Not enough money to waste, or they’d just committed war crimes against each other, or the politicking was too thick- it wasn’t a done thing and they wouldn’t wanted to in the slightest anyway. 15th century onwards it's still 'no', in terms of throwing a party on the other person’s behalf but Francis cannot help himself; Francis will throw himself a party. For little reason other than because he can.

Every other year or so (very consistently in the 1700's and much less so as the decades have gone on) Francis will open his house to the world and it will be the largest, flashiest, and most extravagant fucking thing you've ever seen. It would have been the talk of the European nobility for the year and Arthur would oftentimes have been found sulking in the gardens or on a balcony if he'd forced himself, or had been forced, to go. He's not a big party person (especially not of the sort Francis so enjoys), more so not one for throwing a party simply to celebrate himself and he would never even think to throw Francis one.

Nor Francis for him. It's not really their scene to be so public for each other and if they ever were to do it, it would be viewed with great suspicious and unease.

Human AUs though, yes 😌 They would give each other the best gifts and Arthur would make sure to throw Francis surprise birthday parties (which would be his favourite and what he would appreciate the most), and Francis would take Arthur out somewhere on a quiet date.

[dearestones]

Yandere! America x Dictatorship! Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Yandere behavior, mental manipulation, slight power imbalance, etc. 

Anonymous Request: How would yandere America, who loves freedom and liberty, deal with an obsession that is a dictatorship or at least authoritarian?

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Oh, America does not like you.

At least, not at first.

As a Nation and a person, he firmly believes that everyone should have a chance to follow their beliefs and to live life as they want. However, while he can live with Nations who oppose him on certain ideas, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hold animosity towards those who flagrantly survive off human rights violations. 

Of course, all Nations are beholden to their governments and their people’s way of thinking. You probably have a history, a downward spiral perhaps, of how you eventually became a dictatorship. Every Nation has no say in their governments; the only thing that they can hope to achieve is to keep themselves up to date and retain hope that their people—true patriots—will eventually come through.  

America can’t exactly blame you for that, can he?

He may look like a child—an upstart to some of the older Nations—but even he knows that he can’t see the world solely through a black and white lens. The hero complex that he has burdened himself with may rear its ugly head when it comes to you. After international summits, he’ll approach some of the Nations who are classified as dictatorships and he’ll mistakenly believe that they’ll be wanting his help. Sure, there might be a few who will entertain his ideas of a peaceful world, but there are others who would rather be left alone. Besides, it’s not his business now is it?

When he reaches you, you’ll find that even though he speaks at length about the virtues of freedom and the mounting allegations of crimes against humanity (whether true or not), his eyes hold disdain for you. If you’re the sort of person who is willing to be civil, you might be able to escape the conversation relatively unscathed except for a few verbal barbs that you have little hope of going over America’s head despite his pointed blustering. Then again, if you’re the type to fight back against any perceived insults, you’ll either feed into his ego or exchange fisticuffs before someone—likely Germany—pulls you both apart.

For the most part, that’s how this non-relationship of yours starts. He’ll badger you during meetings, fascinated with your reactions. Whether it be by your silent rebellion or furious shows of force, America will begin to prepare his political attacks in advance. Before meetings, he’ll spend time researching your history, your culture, and if enough time has passed by, he’ll begin to look into your private affairs. 

Why are you friends with this Nation? Why do you insist on strengthening relations with this country? How dare you share this many cultural ties with your neighbor? 

At first, America might be confused and maybe downright terrified of these thoughts. He doesn’t mean to sound like a monster, he just wants to help you see that the best way to rule yourself is not through dictatorship. However, as time goes on and the more you either refuse him outright or ignore him, the more America realizes that he wants to save you from yourself. 

Never mind trying the diplomatic route. What better way to reform your entire country than to start with the Nation’s human avatar? If talking to you during meetings won’t help you see the light, then surely it would be better if you were exposed to America one on one for days on end. 

It’s a plan months in the making and no one, including you, could have ever seen coming. When you finally wake up in one of his many houses in one of his lesser known States, he will gleefully start regaling you with all of his hard work and start teaching (brainwashing) you into thinking like him. It’s for your own good, he explains, as he has you reading through several books and documents about American history, the basics of human rights, etc.

If you ask why he didn’t bother sending diplomats or going through the legal channels first, he’ll shrug and impart platitudes about freedom and liberty. 

He’ll keep you with him, regardless if you finally see the light or not. In America’s house, he is always right and you have no say. The only thing that you can hope for is that your government sends out a search party soon because if you don’t, he might spin enough lies and create evidence that you’ll like your training sessions with him. 

And, if there is a revolution in your home country and you become one of the free Nations, America will still keep you around. The best way to make sure that you stay on a path that is straight and narrow is to keep you under observation, right? Don’t worry, he won’t insult you anymore for being a dictatorship. 

He will scold you for not being a “good” Nation from the start. If it weren’t for that, America would have been with you right from the beginning! 

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DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

HETALIA AXIS POWERS/WORLD SERIES MASTERLIST

[azzydoesstuff]

something that bugged me about hakita (creator of ultrakill) is that he himself said "there is literally zero evidence that v1 or the machines killed humanity"

uhhhhhh, "the crimes thy kind have committed against humanity" hellooooo???

i'm getting a feeling that he's just trying to keep people away from that theory so he can save it for the big reveal at some point, cause that's just straight contridictin' yourself, unless minos meant something else by "crimes against humanity", buuut nothin' comes to mind.

i think it's kinda like how the gravity falls team juked people into thinking the "stan has a twin brother" theory was false so they could have the same surprise effect when they eventually did the plot twist, despite people predicting it.

i mean, maybe the "great war" or whatever was what minos referred to, but i mean, that's more "the crimes humanity commited against itself" rather than the machines doing the committing of crimes, 'cuz to have a machine war, humans gotta start one first. plus, humans made that machines to do the fightin' and killin'. double plus, that was all a while ago. there was the entire "new peace" era and the fall of humanity and the period of time where the machines just sat at the surface doin' nothin' before deciding to yeet themselves into hell, so minos had a lotta time to forgive & forget all about that war.

and don't even think of pulling the "well minos doesn't know it's not the machine's fault" card because that implies that minos is one of the following:

clueless

straight up dumb

like an old grandpa that isn't really up-to-date with all this... "technology" junk.

the first one can't be cause if he was clueless, he wouldn't know there was a war to begin with.

the second one... i mean, come on. do you really think someone who uses "thou", "thee" and "thy" would be portrayed as a dumb idiot?

and the third one... is pretty fucking funny i'll give you that. but there's no way that's what it is.

to be honest, i guess it's not IMPOSSIBLE that minos was referring to the war, but it'd be a bit disappointing because i'm pretty sure that when we all heard minos say something about our "crimes", pretty much all of us immediately thought either "Oh my gosh, machines did somethin' bad! They're probably what killed humanity! Woah!" or "what crimes".

i mean, what's more likely:

minos was referring to the great war with all the machines, even though it's technically all humanity's doing, because he doesn't know exactly how sentient the machines are, and believes that since machines were the ones who took actions and went into battle, they are responsible for the deaths and destruction so they must be held acountable

or

machines went haywire & killed humanity & that's why mankind's dead & minos was pointing out the very much obvious crimes we committed

i don't think hakita was playing dumb or just genuinely forgot about that line. i think hakita was, on purpose, telling us that there's no evidence so we go "well, hakita said so, thus there really must be no evidence!" and that way we'll stop looking and forget all about minos's line.

well guess what hakita? i rember'd!! i rember'd it all!!

alright alright, i know, i'm looking way too far into this one line from minos and this one screenshot of a hakita discord message.

...buuuut i still have another thing to talk about. some "inoffensive" machines seem to have been... er, "repurposed" ingame.

streetcleaners would just suck up all the toxic gasses polluting the air. now, in hell, they're using those same flammable gasses as fuel for their makeshift flamethrowers which they burn us with.

drones are just supposed to be floating security cameras, equipped with non-lethal ammunition in order to incapacitate any potentially dangerous individuals. however, here in hell, that ammunition... well, it's not so "non-lethal" anymore.

and mindflayers.

um.

i don't know what they do, actually.

but i can't think of anyone who would make a robot whose only objective is to protect its plastic boobs. (don't even UTTER anything along the lines of "sex robot" because dem boobs n' cheeks are HARD PLASTIC ain't NOTHIN' fitting in there)

sooo the mindflayer's literal existence contributes yet another point towards the "machines can and did go against whatever boundaries they were supposed to respect" theory.

so, these now-repurposed weakling machines are pretty damn suspicious. humans had no reason the weaponize air-cleaning and security bots, since there weren't any more wars after the big, great one, so i got reason to believe that it wasn't humans who changed them, but rather they changed themselves after going mad.

i don't have any more evidence, but i mean, i think what i got here is enough alone. alright fellas, essay's over. azzy out!