#they are really going rapid-fire with the sequels

[reccyls]

Licht Act 3 route announced for Winter 2023

#ikemen prince #licht (ikepri) #they are really going rapid-fire with the sequels

[icedmatchatae]

Please Love Me! | JJK

Pairing: Frat President Jungkook x Succubus Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Comedy (my humor is broken), Light Angst (because everyone is an dumbass)

Summary: By thirsty popular demand, I present to you a small sequel to Please Teach Me? Your succubus self has been going back and forth to the human realm to be…friends with benefits??? With your first task, Jeon Jungkook. Though you only see it as him, finding the good in his humanity, and helping you with your training, Jungkook suddenly thinks otherwise. Yet, he's in denial.

Until he meets and sees you with Seokjin and thinks you're in a relationship with him??? But is Jungkook willing to break free from his infamous womanizing ways and finally admit his love for you??

Warning: We’re going on another adventure!, Seokjin is the bestest :D, granola x succubus reader, let’s all guess what the fuck is OC feeling rn, BUT GUESS WHO’S IN DENIAL, I wanna say seokjin x OC but let’s not LOL, jealous/possessive jungkook, someone becomes a straight up LOSER, idk what’s going on half of the time. Sir kink is back, dom sadist jk heyyyy, sub masochist oc, the size kink we all know and love, Ass slapping (once with a belt), tail pulling (remember when I said they’re sensitive ;-)), rope bondage, candle wax play fvhidsvsdil, fingering (lowkey fisting), oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasm denials, clit pinching, nipple pinching, dumbification again :D, dirty talk, degradation, again with the tail sucking…but different (oc and jk licking her tail together like a lollipop), cum play, unprotected sex, creamiest of pies, I tried to make it as nasty as the last time

Word Count: 19.3k (yes, small sequel indeed)

A/N: This can be read stand alone but highly recommend reading Please Teach Me? LOL I really wasn't intending a part 2 like I posted this MONTHS ago and dipped but SOOO MANY of y'all wanted sexc demon things so here we goooooo I really pulled this out of my butt and idk if I lived up to the first part's standard . But the smut was longer than expected hreoiheoihg

Also posted on AO3!~~

Flying through the corridors of the dorms, Seokjin’s mind raced faster than he could exclaim how handsome he was—which was a lot. Right now all his thoughts were from what the higher-ups have said…more or less affecting him. But all in all, it had to fucking deal with you.

And now, he needed to have a word with you pronto but has not heard from you for almost…thirty-six hours, which shocked him because he’d typically hear you bitching from a distance.

Once he reached your dorm door, he knocked fire-rapid fists and yelled, “Little one, open this door immediately! I need to share with you some details!” No answer. Then he began kicking in fury, “Fucking bitch, answer! This is important.”

Aggravated and impatient, Seokjin decided to throw in the big guns. With the light use of his highly-acclaimed incubus powers, the demon blasted an energy ball through the wooden entranceway, creating a rather larger-than-regular soot-filled darkened hole. Some of your things even got destroyed in the process, but nonetheless, he opened your door!

He entered fashionably, scanning if there was any sight of a dense yet adorable little succubus. Everything in your living space except your plants and half of your mirror remained intact and still. Bed was neatly made with the mountain of plush toys you’ve accumulated through the months. Books that you never read but were somehow open laid on your study table with your chair pushed out. 

He groaned, rolling his eyes at the discovery. Of course, you weren’t here when he needed you to be here again.

Sometimes, he regretted permitting you to play around with your little first task. 

-

“Hungggghh, sir!” You moaned as you attempted balancing and gripping the cold tiled wall, yet there was nothing to grip on.

Showers of water pricked your heated skin, heaps of steam circulated the closed space, and the echoed sounds of steady and heavy pumps, your whimpering, and his moaning filled the rest of the bathroom.

Jungkook thought it was an excellent idea to shower after practice to get ready for another school event he had to attend, but also have a little bit of fun with you in there. Think of it as killing two birds with one stone.

So now there you both were—you were going into your sixth orgasm while having to tippy toe to level with his fast-pacing industrial hips. You arched your back, pushing your ass at Jungkook so that his dick can go deeper into you. Since you were a lot shorter than he was, the angles were always harder to reach when the two of you stood up.

The slapping of his thighs to your meaty fat progressively grew in volume as he held onto your sensitive tail and the left side of your wing—the way he loved manhandling you. Your moans went a tone higher as you let out sobbing pleas. “Sir, pwease!” Your cramping legs were trembling, slowly losing their strength by the human. “I-I can’t!”

Though the frat president rolled his eyes, he accepted your begging, finding it absolutely endearing. You’ve grown to be accustomed to his wild kinks and likings, but you finally knew when you needed some care to his sadist ways.

He slithered his muscular arms around your soddened waist while keeping his piston thrusts in control. His front pressed onto your wings and back with your little demon tail swinging to the side. He nibbled on an edge of your wings, causing you to moan sharply before he smooched a kiss onto the same area and then maneuvered to the shoulder to peck more snogs.

“My little slut is tired?? We just started.” He smirked at your disheveled face. You didn’t just start, you were in here for almost an hour. His fingers were pruny!

You couldn’t even speak, just blabbering incoherent sounds. One of his hands steered lower to your soaking center, fingers trying to find your inflamed clit. Once you shuttered, he knew he hooked onto it. Making tiny circular motions, you started heaving heavily.

“Kooooooo!” You dragged your new nickname for him, almost like a warning that you were almost there.

His ears twitched pridefully at your calling as he quickened his tempo. His movements became messier, indicating he too was chasing his cloud nine. “Almost there, angel. Cum with me.”

At the immediate order, you snapped, going into ecstasy. Your left eye twitched as you found spots in your vision. Then, Jungkook slammed into you one last time before clenching his stomach. Your squishy cunt walls throbbed around his thickening cock, milking the cum out of him. He coated your insides with white, getting in a few more loads than usual.

Your tail sprayed like a sprinkler, feeling the orgasm wholeheartedly this time. Some of it goes onto Jungkook’s defined abs. But it didn’t really matter because you were in the shower.

Knowing how weak you were after sex, the best he could do right now was lay both of your bodies on your sides on the shower floor. You respired out so hard, he had to move your head to the water splashing your forms so that you can get some hydration. Once you were semi-stabilized, he finally pulled out of you. You winced at the stimulation but he kissed your forehead and murmured praises.

“___, are you okay?” Jungkook asked. Your eyes were closed, with your chest raising slowly.

You hummed softly with a nod before peeling open your eyes. “Why do you have so much stamina even after your practice?”

The human chuckled at your complaint and shrugged, “Maybe I always have energy when I’m with you.”

“Please use at least 25% of that energy into something else, like knitting.” You mumbled as you turned yourself to face him. “Are we done showering?”

“You still need to clean your body, maybe somewhat more since we made lo—I mean have sex.”

“Please clean me?” You always asked so sweetly, with no rush, no hint of irritation, but super whiny.

Yet Jungkook would always say yes to you. “Of course, angel.”

-

You were finally out of the shower. Jungkook carried your exhausted form back to his room. He puts on one of his shirts on you (you had the habit of sucking back your wings inside of you for this reason only) and even moisturizes your skin with a body balm. Once he finished getting you dressed, you situated on his bed like a starfish. He did the same routine on himself but only threw on a pair of boxers.

“Angel, I have something for you!” He bounced towards his backpack and ruffled the insides to retrieve the content.

“What is?” You were fatigued after the intense session. Even with having someone like a bunny-infused bouncy house like Jungkook, you never improved from your feeble power.

He dramatically pulled his “gift” to you and raised it over his head like he was enacting the beginning scene of The Lion King. Enjoying your entertainment, you went along and stared up, rasping at the big reveal.

You sat up and levitated up in joy, flying towards the human with grabby hands. “Granola!!” You cheered like a child.

“And it has honey-coated pecans and almonds.” He said proudly. “I got two packs…” You squealed, suddenly twirling in the air. “But just one for now. You inhale it and get a tummy ache if you get more.” Once you stopped your twirls, he handed you the bag of your favorite human treat. 

You snatched it off of him before hugging it like it was the love of your life. Distracted and mindlessly, you began drifting away to a corner of the room but Jungkook pulled you back down by the hips to sit you with him on top of his covers. He kissed your temple, gripping his hold around you. 

“Thank you, Jungkook! This is wonderful.” You continued to not face him, staring at the granola so you didn’t see the endearing and longing eyes that the human had on you. “I will save it for home.” You threw the treat into the tote bag that was wide open on the side of the bed. Jungkook got for you a while back when you kept carrying your treats and clothes with your arms. He said it was more efficient for you.

The human laid the both of you down as he nuzzled into your neck. You whined at how touchy he was being and didn’t help that it progressed the more you saw him. “Angel, you don’t like my touch? I thought you loved it.” You felt him smirking which caused you to blush red.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. But I would like my space.” You pouted as you distanced him away slightly, making him grumble. “You radiate much body heat for a human. It feels like I’m back in the demon realm.”

Jungkook hummed, faulty listening to your speaking only because he felt colder without you fully in his arms. “How is the demon realm? Is it nice there? What’s it like?”

There he went again. After every session or when you’re back on Earth (you learned that’s what the human realm was called), Jungkook seemed to be very interested in learning more about you. Whether it was about you, what you liked, and this time it was about the demon realm. Maybe he was just curious, which you didn’t mind at all, you were a succubus after all and it was the least you could do for him.

For the past months, you’ve been sneaking back and forth to Earth after completing your first task, Jeon Jungkook. Still the frat president of Beta Tau Sigma, still an active partygoer, still what humans call a fuck boy, but now your unofficial task helper. One of the reasons why was that you grew comfortable with him. You technically didn’t need to have a different human all the time when you were completing your training tasks, and Jungkook just so happened to be willing to help you without getting anything back besides your cunt and being.

Typically it was not a big deal as a succubus and other demons travel to the realm, but since you were still in training, it can be quite controversial. When you go on Earth, you always needed supervision in case something happens, especially with a demon like you.

Seokjin would be surveilling you or communicating with you through your minds when you do have tasks while documenting your experience. But when you weren’t completing anything, he doesn’t look over you like a child—though, at times, he begged to differ. So when you’re on Earth without guidance, there was really no telling what would even happen. You could kill someone and your authorities wouldn’t even know. You weren’t fully trained, and you obtained some powers, but overall you were still in need of oversight. Which was now. Seokjin didn’t know you were here.

But you didn’t think you were doing anything terrible. Sure, your exams were borderline passing, you still made your mentor uncomfortable, you were fucking a human behind the higher-ups’ backs and at times, you’d accidentally absorb some of Jungkook’s life force (but you always try to give it back), and you may have begged Seokjin to grant you permission to even do what you were doing, but you weren’t doing anything wrong.

In a way, you were surprisingly progressing! You’ve completed many tasks over the months with Jungkook, got to know more of the human culture, and learned new kinks that you liked with him, maybe even only him.

Though Jungkook was a bit rough around the edges, you swiftly learned that he was indeed a sweet human to you. When he wasn’t fucking your guts out and pulling on your tail like naughty mischief, he liked taking care of you. He washed you up, fed you human foods, gave you piggybacks, kissed you on your forehead, stared at you instead of completing his human studies…what else?? Oh yeah! He always complimented you in your dresses, called you beautiful or ravishing, and even exchanged numbers with the cellular device you kept to talk to or video chat with him when you were away. 

All that was listed made you think about how friendly he was to you! Get this—he was usually quite mean to his friends. You constantly heard from other succubi how humans can be really selfish and vile, but it wasn’t like that with Jungkook! He was so kind to you, except in the bedroom.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t believe how much good he had in him to be willing to help you. You couldn’t be any more grateful, such a wonderful human man!

“Oh! It’s much different to what humans think it is, especially when they like to affiliate Hell with us.” You simply replied as you shifted forward and laid your head on his chest. Jungkook liked that, so you did it. “The simplest answer is to say Hell but we’re far from Hell. There are many realms where many creatures like witches, trolls, and us demons reside!”

The human asked while he gently played with your horns, keeping you calm. “And where would that be for you, little succubus?”

“Naameth.”

“You always fascinate me every single time.” Jungkook blushed, but when he realized what he was doing, he slapped it off of his face. Yet you didn’t even acknowledge or see it.

“I guess so.” You shrugged, getting off his chest as you sat up. “I am a succubus and you’re a human. Many things are different from our kinds.”

“Do you think I could visit Naameth?”

“No, absolutely not.” You deadpanned.

Jungkook suddenly smiled smugly, assuming that there was a bit of poison to your tone indicating you were jealous. “Why, angel? You think my amazing human charm will attract other succubi and that I won’t want you anymore?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “No, because you will die.” His fucking smirk vanished and his face went pale. “Remember that succubi feed off human men. I even did that to you on accident. I can give your life force back, but that won’t mean others will.”

Suddenly Jungkook’s eyes lit up, “So you care for me? Care if I die.”

You nodded slowly, “Yes. I need you.” For some reason, his heart fluttered at your reply. His lips curled upwards. “I need your help with my tasks.” Okay, it went back down. “I refuse to find another one.”

“O-oh, okay…” Jungkook couldn’t help but feel upset about that. He expected that feeling to be let go all those months ago, but it stayed and he didn’t like that one bit.

“I can take you to the other realms.” You added in, without realizing what you’ve done. “They’re as lovely as Naameth. We can go to the waterfalls, forests, maybe even hiking, I know you love those things. I can let you try other foods besides human food because…” You rambled on and on but Jungkook stopped listening to observe how eccentric you were being and planning trips in the future with him. It caused him to roar in glee on the inside.

While you kept blabbering off, he encircled his veiny arms around you and kissed your cheek, making you shut your mouth. You slowly turned your head, revealing the bunny smile you enjoyed seeing on him. He then proceeded to attack you with kisses to your neck, making you laugh, a sound that brought jubilance to his ears.

But before you could say anything, you both heard a knock followed by an opening of the door. Luckily, you were dressed, unlike in other instances. These men in this fraternity do not know how to wait.

On the other side was Jimin, one of Jungkook’s close friends, grinning at the both of you as he shook his head with his slit eyes. “Again, with your demon role-play? Jungkook didn’t expect you to like it that much.” You forgot that your tail and horns were exposed again. It was a miracle that his friends bought the whole “demon kink” and you weren’t levitating during the disruptions or else you’d be more fucked than you already were.

Shyly, you parted away from Jungkook and pulled your tail to your back. You grabbed a pillow to hold onto, covering yourself a bit. As a succubus, you were naturally comfortable with your body and showing some skin. However, you also didn’t like letting other men see you bare except for Jungkook.

Slightly annoyed, the frat president leered at his shit-grinning friend and asked, “The fuck do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the event tonight. But I see that you’re nowhere near ready and we have to leave in less than an hour.” Jimin reminded him, checking his boxer-covered friend out.

Jungkook cursed under his breath as he palmed his face and rubbed his skin aggressively. The school event mentioned was a dinner with the university’s board of directors, ensuring a good relationship with not only the dean but maintaining excellent and sufficient status for the fraternity.

“Do you wanna talk out of the room or?” Jungkook questioned.

“Right here is fine.” The shorter man shrugged. “Nothing top secret that ___ can’t hear.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to you while I’ll get ready then.” The frat president got off the bed. He opened his closet and then resumed the conversation with Jimin.

Meanwhile, you too had an unexpected chat but it wasn’t all that exciting as your stomach dropped in fear and scared the shit out of you. “Hello, you little motherfucker! Where the fuck have you been?”Your one and only mentor yelled into your mind out of nowhere.

You screamed and flinched from the ambush, flinging the pillow to the wall as a reflex, causing the human men to stop and look at you questionably. You made eye contact back before smiling and giving a thumbs-up that you were okay. Weirded out (well, more so Jimin), they continued their talk again.

“Seokjin, Seokjin.” You whispered so that the humans wouldn’t hear you. But it was so quiet that Seokjin found it slightly inaudible.

“Why are you whispering? This isn’t a time to whisper, little one!” Seokjin complained. “Are you in the fucking human realm again?” You couldn’t get in a word as he continued his rant. “Of course, you fucking are. That’s where you go if you’re not here. Look, now is not the time to bitch what I say. But you must come back here this instant.”

“Why?” You asked softly and he finally heard you.

“I have important news. In short, you’re kinda fucked.”

“Wait, what? Are you serious right now?” You unknowingly shouted, jumping out of bed as you paced around the room. “What do you mean I’m kinda fucked? What did I even do?!?!”

As you were distressed, Jimin raised an eyebrow while observing you. “Yah, is she okay? Why is she talking to herself?”

Though Jungkook knew what you were doing as you had to tell him when he first saw what Jimin was seeing now, he didn’t know how to explain the situation well. “Uhh, she’s praying?”

“Praying?” The shorter man questioned incredulously. “Doesn’t seem like praying…”

“It is…she does it randomly from time to time. It’s part of her faith.” Jungkook responded the best he can. “Just don’t worry about it. If you interrupt her, it won’t be good.”

Cue back to your freak out. “I say kinda fucked because there is a bit of good news. It may even be a relief for you.” Seokjin clarified.

“You could have fucking said that instead of telling me I’m fucked, Seokjin!”

“Seokjin?” Jimin faced back to you again. “What religion has a Seokjin?”

Okay, that was a name that the frat president heard but never understood but he couldn’t think further into it just yet. “Uhhh, Jinnism. It’s common from where she’s from.” His friend was about to protest but Jungkook beat him to it. “Dude, just fucking ignore her right now. Talk to me about what you wanted me to hear in the first place.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” You can sense Seokjin shrug casually and unbothered by your reply. “Either way, you must come back to Naameth immediately.”

You sighed, “Give me ten minutes.”

“No, you can’t tell me what to do. I’m supposed to tell you what to do.”

“Seokjin, give me fucking ten minutes. I’ll get there, I promise!” Again, Jimin eyed you and your “prayer” but decided to let it go.

“Fine. Do what you have to do before coming. I’ll be seeing you soon.” Seokjin huffed, giving in. “By the way, I made a giant hole in your room door.”

“You fucking dick! AGAIN? I have to get that repaired!!” You complained, but he was already gone and out of your mind. You rolled your eyes before plotting back on the mattress. You kicked your feet up in fury and whined into the duvet. You rolled like a fish on the sheets to exert more of your frustration. 

Jimin couldn’t help but scrutinize you once again for the last time. “Dang, that’s your type, man.” He mumbled more to himself, but Jungkook who was already dressed heard his commentary.

“Fuck off and get out of my room!” Before Jimin could see him in a blushing frenzy, the frat president pushed his friend out without warning. Though the shorter man protested, a slamming of the door sealed the demand.

The frat president exhaled while fixing his tie, loosening it for now. “___! What’s wrong, baby?” Oh my goodness, why the fuck did he say that? He didn’t catch himself before saying it. Fuck, he hoped you didn’t notice.

Though he hoped you did.

But like always, you don’t seem to bother acknowledging it. “I have to go back to my realm now.” You rolled to see him.

Damn, he wore black and grey checkered dress pants with a black dress shirt tucked into them, exposing his petite waist. Buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbow; his forearms were revealed with parts of his tattoos shown on the right of him. The thin fabric practically adhered to his skin as his muscles protruded out. All he needed to do was style his hair, but it didn’t matter either way because he looked so fucking hot you needed to cleanse your mind…and you were a sex demon.

“I think I’m in trouble.” You frowned.

“In trouble? Oh, fuck. Are you okay?” With enlarged irises, panic ran through Jungkook. “Holy shit! Will I be okay? Am I gonna die?”

“No, no, Koo. You won’t die.” You always tried to comfort him because he has had near-death experiences caused by you. That gave him a bit of relief. “I won’t let anything happen to you. If you die, it would be by the hands of me.” Never mind, his stomach churned and he felt like throwing up. “But I won’t kill you! I told you I would never!” You tried to save what little reassurance he had from you.

He exhaled, trying his best to stay positive and lighten the mood. “So you need to go back now?” You nodded. “Do you know why you’re in trouble?”

You shook your head, “No, Seokjin said I’m kinda fucked but he said there might be good in it.”

Again with that name.

The entire time Jungkook has been…friends with benefits??…with you, you’ve always mentioned someone or something called Seokjin. He assumed it was someone since you’ve always been talking to him through your mind, but he didn’t necessarily know who it exactly was.

It was constantly “Oh, Jungkook, I have to go. Seokjin is waiting for me,” or “Hold on, Seokjin wants to talk to me.” Even when you were fucking the human, you would be like “Seo-k-jin! Pl-please n-not right no—ahhhhh!”

The point he was getting at was he didn’t know who the fuck Seokjin was, and it made him annoyed. But he refused to ask about it because he thought you’d probably think he was jealous, which he clearly wasn’t. He was just fucking curious about who the fuck this Seokjin was and how important this Seokjin was for you to drop everything to go to Seokjin and not be with him?

He couldn’t resist it this time.

“Who’s Seokjin?” He began.

“Huh?” You gaped at him confusingly. You noticed how he bit his lip and met your contact with a much more intense stare.

“Who’s Seokjin? You’ve been mentioning and saying that name all the time.”

“Hmmm.”

That’s it? That was what all you had to say about Seokjin?!?!??!

“Oh, Seokjin. Yeah, don’t worry about him.” Him??? “Just another sex demon, he’s an incubus.”

First of all, Jungkook felt his chest twist when he heard it was a dude! Second, he was a fucking demon!! Of course, he would be. What else would he be? A gremlin? But the human betted this demon was ugly and revolting. Lastly, why did it sound like you were hiding something? Were you trying to change the subject to avoid it? What was going on?

Jungkook got pulled out of his mind when you changed into your clothes. “Anyways, I truly have to go which makes me sad because I was hoping to stay with you tonight.” You slipped out of his shirt and pulled over the purple sundress Jungkook bought for you.

His lips quirked up as he slowly walked to you. He patted your head before caressing your cheek. You were so short that you had to stretch your neck up. You reached the top of his chest and it made his heart melt. You made an innocent smile and he wanted to die in moe.

“Unfortunately, I also had plans tonight,” Jungkook spoke out, feeling rather bummed.

“That would have been okay! I would have waited for you in your room!” Now, why would you say that? He was going weak in the knees as is, you made it worse.

“Though that would be fun and kind of you, maybe going back would be good.”

“I promise if I don’t get punished, I’ll come back to see you soon. Okay, Koo?” Your Bambi eyes sparkled, swearing to your statement. You truly did want to stay, but you had duties…or shit that you had to deal with.

Jungkook had so much adoration when you promise things like that. As cute as you were, you kept your promises no matter what and that was one of the purest things about you.

“Of course, angel.” He pulled you into his chest, embracing you once more before you depart.

-

Jungkook walked down and outside with you as a courtesy and he wanted to spend a couple of more minutes with you.

Though you could teleport to your realm, he realized how suspicious his friends would be if you left without them seeing you leave. Most of the frat members liked to lounge around the kitchen and living room. Being in a household filled with testosterone, all the men could sense a woman or any feminine body in and out of the house like a built-in radar detector in their brains.

While you walked down with Jungkook, you had a habit of intertwining your fingers with his. You didn’t think much of it as you grinned casually towards the front door, but the frat president flushed like an idiot and cheesing a little too hard. Playful winks were on the two of you. His frat brothers noticed it, especially when their frat president was with you.

The human opened the door. You stepped out and he followed behind before closing it, giving a some privacy. He observed the area, perceiving that the coast was clear for you. You were ready to go, waiting for Jungkook to give you the go. But the human disliked seeing you off again. It was common for him to do this. You came often, but not as often as how he wanted. You’d come back a day or two later, but sometimes, it would be more than a week. If it was his choice, he never wanted you to leave.

You thought about how winsome he was every time you left. Your task looked so funny and lovesick that it felt so real. You then held his cheeks, pushing them together to puff them up.“Stop being sad, Jungkook.”

“I’m not sad!” He mumbled, leaning into your touch. “It’s just…”

“Do you want me to video call you when I’m done with Seokjin?”

The fuck you mean when you’re done with Seokjin? “Yes.” He said with no hesitation. “Text me when you get home too.’ You grinned, nodding like the adorable demon you were, and let go of his face. He sighed at the sight of you.

Jungkook bent down, closed his eyes, and puckered his lips. He hoped to feel yours on the other side, but the more he leaned in, the more breeze he got. He almost fell forward and ate shit. He peeled back his eyes to not see you in front of him anymore.

His head pivoted to the side, finding you skipping down the walkway. You looked back at him before saying, “Bye, Koo!” You fluttered your fingers at him, then you disappeared into thin air. You basically Houdini’d.

Despite that, Jungkook’s smile grew as he replayed the very memory of you saying goodbye. He loved when you said that nickname. He groaned in amazement and couldn’t wait to see you again.

With his rabbit teeth still on display, he went back inside. When he closed the door, he rested his back on the wooden surface. His eyelids closed shut as he tried stabilizing his heart rate. It was going faster than the last time. 

"Dude, you're fucking whipped."

He snapped his eyes open, finding all his frat brothers half-circling him with Cheshire Cat-like smiles. "Pfft, no I'm not." Jungkook pushed himself off and stood tall on his feet, attempting to be all cool and casual. “Just another fuck…”

“Just another fuck, yeah? What is this, the three hundredth time with her alone?” Hoseok retorted, rolling his eyes.

“Seeing you all bright and dandy like the Teletubbies seeing the fucking sun!” Yoongi mentioned. "She's practically curing you, a fucking angel if you ask me."

"So you think she’s an angel…" Jungkook side-eyed his friend.

“We refuse to hear your rancid details.” Namjoon gagged before making a sour expression.

“Well, I’m never telling you.” The frat president informed. “Not like I wanna tell you anything between me and her.”

“Oooo, keeping secrets instead of stories??? What’s going on? What happened to the Jungkook we knew and put up with?” Hoseok laughed, calling his hands to emphasize his statement.

“Fuck off, Hobi Hyung!” Jungkook couldn’t defend himself on that because what happened between the two of you was really between each other, especially with your succubus status.

"JK, this has been going on for months.” Jimin pointed out, trying to be a little mindful compared to the others. Though Jungkook was the frat president, he was the youngest amongst them which meant they can fuck around and get away with it from time to time. “You're never with the same chick unless…Oh my God, are you in love with her?"

“Jungkook in love? Has the world revolved counterclockwise?” Namjoon teased, raising his fingers to his opened mouth like he was in shock.

"Can't blame him. She's so pretty and kind." Yoongi reflected, thinking back to a memory of you back at the party where you practically met everyone. “A bit of an airhead though and has so much shame.”

Yes, all of us were being reminded of how much of a fuck boy frat president of Sigma Tau Beta, Jeon Jungkook, was. He had a different person at every party, every gathering, every lunch, every day, every hour, it shocked them how he didn’t catch anything. But finally, he did.

He caught feelings for you.

"She eats our granola though. How am I supposed to eat my yogurt?" Hoseok complained.

“Shut up you idiots, I'm not in love," Jungkook stated, shaking his head in denial. “She just wants my dick and she has such a great p…beautiful personality.”

YeAh, hE’S deFINitelY noT iN lOvE.

“You brought her to your family’s house during your birthday dinner!” Jimin countered.

“She was visiting that time! Remember she doesn’t go to school here anymore.” Jungkook reasoned, trying to cover the lies. You both had to create lies about you not being in classes with him and Jimin. “I didn’t want to leave her here!” 

“You could have left her here with us.” Hoseok alluded, a smirk morphing on his face.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

You, a clueless succubus, in a house alone with other men that weren’t Jungkook? Nope!

To be honest, he may have had to because though it may not be intentional, he guessed that due to your succubus aura, you kinda charmed his father a bit.

Of course, his mother was there to smack the sense back to him.

“You cuddle with her and fall asleep on the couch, and when you wake up, you carry her to your room!”

“I see you smiling at your phone and I look over to see you texting her. She barely even responds besides an “ok,” or “sure.” She doesn’t even get your memes sometimes.”

"You also take her out almost every weekend and if we have a party, you're either alone or with her. You don't even try anymore."

"What's your point?" Jungkook muttered, his attention roaming elsewhere but his friends. He even kicked his feet in frustration to ease off his embarrassment. 

"JEON. JUNGKOOK. YOU. ARE. WHIPPED. FOR. ___!" The older group of friends shouted in unison.

“No, I’m not! How many times do I have to fucking tell you that I don’t have any feelings for ___?” The rosy-coated cheeked frat president was persistent, he refused to believe such accusations. “If I did, which I’m not, she doesn’t even like me!”

“Huh, well, we’re unsure about that too,” Hoseok told them. “We don’t see any part of her liking you.”

“She did make him a gourmet meal when he passed an exam!” Yoongi notified, snapping his fingers.

“She does praise you even the smallest shit.” Namjoon scoffed. “But you shouldn’t compliment the bare minimum in my opinion.”

“She even is willing to role-play JK’s demon kink!” Jimin boasted, adding to Jungkook’s humiliation.

“Okay! All of you, for fuck’s sake, let this go. Nothing is going on with us. I don’t love her and…she doesn’t love me.” In that last part, the frat president said it to convince not only them but himself. “We’re only fuck buddies, that’s it.”

“Oh, sure, and if Hoseok and I make out, we’re just bros, right?” Namjoon snorted jokingly. “There’s always one person that catches feelings.”

“And it’s you, bud.” Yoongi patted his youngest friend’s back in empathy. “And you’re downright bad.”

“Yeah, you may be feral for her, but that doesn’t mean she like that back.” Hoseok brutally mentioned, which earned a few glares around.

“Hobi Hyung! Don’t say that. We don’t know what she thinks.” Jimin lightly pushed his friend as his scolding. “But Jungkook, he is lowkey right. I mean didn’t you play with others’ emotions before?”

“Yes, but not for months!”

“So? Girls are much more cunning than we are. She’s probably waiting until she destroys you.” Namjoon shrugged.

His friends were not helping at all. They were throwing shade about how much of a player he was too. In fact, they were making him question his relationship with you, which was good…in a way? 

“I’m not sure if you’re trying to support me or insult me. But either way, you bitches suck ass right now!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“We just don’t want you to get your hopes up if she doesn’t like you. Unlike you, she’s not obvious with her emotions besides confused and whining.” Jimin voiced out. “We've never seen you like this. It’s wild and scary.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, getting immediately tired of this conversation. “Look, Hyungs. I’m not obvious nor do I have feelings, and that is my final answer. You’re all being insane and stalkerish, like observing me and her? Do you even have lives beyond this story?”

“Probably, not,” Jimin answered. “We’re only saying.”

“Well, stop.” Then Jungkook finally ended the discussion as he stomped away from them and back to his room.

When he slammed his door shut, he felt the heat intensify in him. He rubbed his face with his palms as he treaded around his bedroom, thinking about what his friends said. Him being in love with you?? Thinking about that…it would take a deranged enchantress to make him head over heels, with googly eyes, and on his knees to be in love.

Well, for starters, you weren’t deranged…he assumed. As for an enchantress, you certainly weren’t that. You were a demon, a sex demon, a succubus that uses human men to gain power. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was expected to fear you the moment he saw you. But that didn’t happen, considering he threw you around like a cum cloth the first meet.

Yet as time went on, nothing bad overall—highlighting because you would accidentally drain Jungkook’s life and burned him sometimes—happened. If anything, a budding bond flourished between the two of you. How was it that a teeny succubus like yourself was able to get him through your cute smile? Your compassionate presence? Your everlasting patience? Your baffling innocence? Your exasperating oblivion? Fuck, this was bad.

He wasn’t in love, he couldn’t, he can’t. It wasn’t right, it was against all his values and beliefs.

Yeah, right. When did his values and beliefs incorporate a demon into the picture?

Despite getting to sleep with you, any other thing with you was deemed pointless in his upsetting reality. You weren’t as cuddly as him, you didn’t initiate kisses, and you answered his questions objectively. All were similar to what he does to women from his fuck boy mindset.

Yet he hasn’t been with any other apart from you when you came back into his life after the initial time. That’s what’s frightening about all of this. He was willing to drop everything to be with you. He chose not to be with other women. Instead, he thought about what places to bring you like the carnival, wrestling, sky diving, or any rigorous physical activity he could think of to make you fit. He hated it but wanted more.

You know what? Fuck you. Perhaps he should be done with you and your ways. He should tell you that he refused to help you any longer because you’re fucking up his lifestyle, the person he was before and quite enjoyed. He had no regrets prior, and now he was contemplating all his pondering decisions apart from his choice with you.

So basically fuck you and your bomb-ass cunt.

A buzz rang through his room. His phone vibrated on top of his bedside table. He went up to grab his device before unlocking it. It was a simple message from you.

My pretty Angel 😇😩😍🥰: home!

Human Jungkook: Please safe and good luck angel! Text me when you’re done

Human Jungkook: Actually video call me I wanna see your face :-(

Five minutes later…

My pretty Angel 😇😩😍🥰: ok

Jungkook didn’t realize how much he was beaming like a damn idiot. Heart thumping at your two short ass replies. He sat on his gaming chair and giggled like a schoolgirl, swinging his legs up. Oh, how he wished he look at you again. Pulling his phone to his sternum, he yearned for you and hoped you were alright.

Yup, definitely not whipped.

-

“Listen here, you little shit! You can’t keep disappearing on me like that!” Seokjin scolded you as he floated around the office as you sat on his desk with your head hung down. “I already permitted you and hid it away from the higher-ups. The least you can do is notify me before you’re going to your dick appointment!”

“I-I’m sorry. I took advantage of your consent, I should have told you I was on Earth.” You nodded, taking in his yelling.

“Yeah, well. For that, the higher-ups found out and now they wanna expel you!”

“What?!” Your head snapped up with your bottom lips pushed out. How was that even possible? You were a succubus, all succubus had to go through this training no matter what. It was part of your life! Was there even such thing as expulsion within your training? Was there anyone else who got expelled? Were you the first dumbass to get kicked out? “Really, Seokjin? Awww, noooo.” You shivered in panic and you started crying. Tears falling down your reddened puffy cheeks and weeping gradually escalated. You’ll be nothing anymore, you weren’t worthy enough to call yourself a succubus.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you.”

His fucking windshield wiper laugh belted over your softened cries, echoing off his office walls. “You should have seen your face. It looked like I stole a part of you and annihilated it!” He slapped his knee because it was that funny he pranked you like that. But an immediate glare from your blinking ruby-infused irises drilled through your mentor’s delight, causing him to stop himself promptly. His spine aligned upwards and he cleared his throat, apologizing feebly.

“It’s nice to fucking know that my own mentor wants to see me crash and burn!” You hissed, crossing your arms over your chest. You levitated up and rushed to him with your scarlet vision and newly developed fangs that grew last month. Seokjin winced in fright, trying to hide behind his lamp. “That was so fucking mean! You know how much I wanna complete this training!”

“Put those fangs away!” Seokjin shrieked. He wished he developed to be a little bit more mindful. You weren’t as weak anymore compared to when you first started, having obtained powers and other features. You were pretty fucking weak in contrast to him anyways, but it still freaked him out.

You moved backward, morphing your teeth and pupils back to their normal size. Your burgundy wings fluttered behind you while your tail slithered like a serpent. Your mentor got out of his hiding place and adjusted himself before continuing his thoughts. “Okay, consider that as punishment for not telling me where you were.”

“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes but there was still sadness in them. “Am I really expelled though?”

“No, you aren’t,” Seokjin reported honestly, relieving you. “But the higher-ups did find out.”

“How?”

“For the record, I didn’t know. But when I would turn in your completed tasks, they noticed a pattern and got suspicious of how you were able to complete so many with ease.” He explained. “Makes sense, considering you’ve been in this training for years and this is a year-and-a-half preparation.” You shrugged as you understood that part. “They didn’t tell me specifically, because they knew I’d tell you, but I think they hired someone to follow you back on Earth. They saw you with your human.” You gasped. “They brought me in today to inform me about it.”

“What did you say?”

“I naturally said that this was all your fault and that you should take all the blame because that’s what you wanted in the first place.”

So much for him protecting you…

“So am I in trouble?” You were perplexed, creasing your eyebrows.

“This is where the good news comes in. You’re actually not.” He reassured, releasing all the stress that has been built up today. “They weren’t mad because you’ve made tremendous progress in the past months as opposed to starting years. To be honest, all they want is for you to fucking pass and if it involves indirectly cheating or using a human for assistance, they’ll turn a blind eye to your case.”

This was good, you didn’t need to worry about keeping secrets and sneaking around. You could go into the human realm without thinking you’d get caught. A weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“However, they wanted safety precautions, knowing that you are a walking hazard,” Seokjin informed, grabbing your file from his desk drawers. “Seeing that you have a human task helper, they thought it was a great idea that I meet Jungkook.”

“Why do you need to meet him?” You asked, not seeing the purpose of it all. You weren’t killing the human!

“Well, while I instruct, give you advice, and keep a record of your training, it’s only fair I meet the person that’s helping you.” Your mentor clarified. “We’ll be able to collaborate and work together with what’s best for you. You know improve your skills, maintain and enhance your strengths, analyzing in-field observations.”

“Like a damn parent-teacher conference?” You questioned, showing a face of “are you serious right now?”

“Correct, little one.” Seokjin grinned, blooping the tip of your nose. “Plus, I also wanna get to know who Jungkook is besides that task folder. Like how the fuck he was able to get you in a chokehold for him? I can’t even put a leash on you!”

“But who’s who?” You wondered aloud, thoughts going in another direction and ignoring Seokjin. “Would Jungkook be the pare—”

"I'm gonna stop you right there because that's wrong on so many different levels." He interrupted you, trying to steer it back to the main topic. “In conclusion, I must see him. It's only fair if he's helping you and I'm your mentor. After that, higher-ups would want a full report on how capable this human is. They think he’s a wizard since he can even deal with you as is.“

-

Seokjin meeting Jungkook was somewhat concerning. Though your mentor was present at that frat party where you met your task, Seokjin didn’t officially meet him. All your mentor knew was through the paperwork he had for you and that was it.

If you learned anything about Seokjin, it was that he was a fucking menace to you. Though you had a tendency to fuck things up yourself, at times he liked making things worse. He said that it was to challenge you but it was a load of bullshit. Always making damn excuses.

Still, you never saw Seokjin interacting with human men and that idea terrified you. What if he exposed your secrets? Like when you had to practice oral with a cucumber to impress Jungkook! You didn’t want him to know. 

What if he was mean to Jungkook and scare him away? You couldn’t have that; you didn’t want to stop seeing Jungkook. You liked being with the human. His presence made you feel comforted. He always cheered you up when you felt like you weren’t a good enough succubus. He made you feel safe even when being a sadist in the bedroom. You didn’t want anyone else but him!

Like who was also gonna help you with your task??!! You didn’t wanna go through that process again.

But it had to happen whether you liked it or not. If Seokjin meeting Jungkook was the only way for you to get away with in succeeding your training as well as obtaining permission from the higher-ups, then so be it.

Currently, you were video chatting with Jungkook as promised. He kept yapping his mouth about what happened during the school event while you rested on your bed listening in and out. “Overall, it was sooo fucking boring and they expected us to dance on the dance floor.” Jungkook scoffed as he loosened and undid the tie around his neck. “Like how can I shake my ass to Party Rock Anthem? Like at least Gasolina!”

“What are those words?” You rolled over to the other side of your bed.

Jungkook opened his mouth but quickly closed it, “I’ll tell you later. Als—” He stopped for a second, observing your fallen expression. “___, what’s on your mind?”

“Numerous things and one of them has to deal with you.”

The human smirked cheekily, thinking something else about what you said. “Baby, be more clear. I wanna hear the words out that pretty mouth of yours.”

“The higher-ups of my succubus training, aka the succubi and incubi council, found out about you.” You notified. “They saw that I’ve been sneaking to Earth when I’m not supposed to.”

Jungkook felt like he was about to throw up. “T-t-they found out about me? Oh my God, AM I GONNA DIE?”

“No, Koo, you’re not gonna die!” You had to tell him again. “I need your help…”

“What do you mean? Aren’t I helping you already?”

“It’s another thing. I’m sorry I keep asking you for all of this. You must think I take too much from you.” You gloomed, letting out a few of your inner thoughts. You didn’t want Jungkook to think that you were taking advantage of him. You constantly tried to make it up for him somehow.

“Angel, I wouldn’t have helped you if I thought you were taking advantage of me. I know my limits.” He assured but lied because there were no limits when it was with you. “Now what were you going to ask me?”

You paused, breathing in and out before saying, “Seokjin wants to meet with you.”

“Uhh, excuse me. What the actual fuck? Why?”

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to meet Seokjin…wait, that was exactly the reason why. Why would he meet this mystery demon that is very close to you?

“The higher-ups thought it was a good idea for him to meet you since you’re helping me with my tasks.” You clarified further. “If anything, they seem to like you because you helped me progress in my studies!”

“…but why him?” His tone sounded flat but on the inside, he was burning.

“Because he talks to the higher-ups and I guess he knows me better than any other demon.” Your vague answer felt like a shot to his chest. He didn’t even care how you said it, he cared about the words. So this Seokjin demon knew you better than any other demon, huh?

Well, does Seokjin know how you sneezed like a kitten? Does Seokjin know your tail waves happily when you get granola? Does Seokjin know how much joy was in your laugh when you see something funny? Does Seokjin know that you liked to cuddle with something when you’re sleeping? And when you slept over, you’d have your arms wrapped around his torso like a koala?

Seokjin may not know everything about you.

“Please meet him? I promise it’ll be okay. He won’t lay a finger on you. If he does, I’ll try my best to rip him off of you.” You pleaded with your shimmering eyes that you didn’t know was one of his ultimate weaknesses. “Of course, he is one of the most powerful demons in our realm…”

As always, you asked so preciously. He couldn’t say no to that face of yours. It may be the hidden power you had over him or maybe not. Yet Jungkook wasn’t going to sway his decision.

“When do you want us to meet, angel?” He gave in to your request.

You squealed, bouncing off of the bed as you held your phone. “Really? You’ll do it?” He nodded in confirmation before you got elated. He’d do anything to see that stunning pearly whites. “I must tell him now! We’ll have everything set up and I’ll tell you the details, okay Koo?”

“Of course, angel. I’m only a call and text away.” He chuckled, gazing into his device.

You checked the time and calculated how late it was for both of you. “It’s already late, and you have class early tomorrow. You should hang up and sleep.”

Jungkook hummed in response, “I’ll start getting ready for bed soon…but you should hang up first.”

You tilted your head in wonder. “Why? Shouldn’t you hang up first?”

“No, you hang u—”

“‘Kay! Good night!” He didn’t even give you a response as you hung up so hastily. You tossed your phone onto the mattress. You rushed out your door—that was fixed and paid off by Seokjin—and went to your mentor to announce the news.

Meanwhile, Jungkook stared blankly at his darkened phone screen for a good minute after you ended the call. He tightened his grip on his smartphone as he bit his lip in an aggravating manner. He took deep breaths, soothing himself. He needed to relax on this whole thing. 

He doesn’t love you. You don’t love him.

That’s that.

But why does he feel so sad about it?

-

“Why are you in a suit?”

Okay, quick little update—It has been a week later and you and Seokjin decided to have Jungkook meet the two of you at the house that Seokjin stole—you honestly don’t know but you have it again—since it wasn’t safe for the human to come to the demon realm.

You haven’t seen Jungkook since because you prepared for the conference. You planned the dinner, begged Seokjin what certain topics of discussion were off-limits, took a midterm that you probably failed, and overall mentally prepared for your mentor and human to meet.

Though you prepped, with Seokjin, there was no telling what was happening. He was being vague with what he had intended and usually shoved a fucking hundred-page intake form in your face. You were nervous, flying around the living room and keeping your hands busy with cooking just hours prior.

Now it was happening and you opened the front entrance right after Jungkook texted you that he was here and afraid. Mainly because the house appeared otherworldly and resembled a murder scene.

When you opened the door, you raised your brows in bewilderment, seeing the human clean cut, looking too professional compared to your pastel green baby doll dress under the strawberry printed apron you had over and bunny house slippers. 

Jungkook wore an all-grey suit with black Chelsea boots. The attire included a matching fabric belt that wrapped around his waist, accentuating his proportions. Underneath, he wore an ebony button-down shirt and the same colored tie. But the best part of it all was that his hair was gelled and pushed back, revealing his supple sexy forehead and bold brows with his lip and ear piercings on display. Lastly, in his hands, he had a bouquet of purple roses.

This was a prime example of how he can get you naked with the faintest look to you.

It wasn’t that you hated him dressed like that. You pondered why he was so formal for a dinner inside an abandoned building.

“Wanted to dress to impress.” More like dress to feel better than that fucking Seokjin guy because I am better.

“You do realize it’s only us three. I’m boringly dressed like this.” You presented your dress even twirled around. Your succubus form was mellow and revealed. You didn’t like hiding your wings and tail because it can get cramped for you. You felt at peace when you didn’t need to hide when you were around Jungkook.

Your hair was pushed back by a green headband, making you extra lovely in his eyes. Though obvious with the seductive succubus stereotype, it fascinated the human how…contradicting you were. Most of the time you didn’t know what you were doing especially with other human men, there were times when you made the room feel disturbingly awkward, you were shit at flirting, and every flirt directed to you was in and out of your ears.

Regardless, that was what made you you and Jungkook loved everything about it. You had your own charm and approach to things. When others expected you to do one thing, you do it in another way. You kept your kindness high and on lock. Sometimes thinking of others before you.

An advantage that Seokjin may have used in the past…for education reasons of course.

“And you look so pretty, ___.” Jungkook complimented you in awe of your beauty. He hasn’t seen you for over a week and finally seeing you in person instead of on his phone screen, he wished to never part with you anymore.

“Aww, thanks, Koo.” You cooed and felt a little heat creeping on your cheeks. “I guess you don’t look bad yourself. Very handsome.”

“So you think I’m handsome?”

You giggled loudly and awkwardly. That was…concerning to him. “Yeah…” You almost sounded bored and he regretted bringing it up. You paused for a bit until you finally brought up the flowers he brought. “You brought flowers?”

“Oh, yeah. I got them since tonight felt pretty important.” He replied, handing them to you. You examined the pretty petals and blooming of the roses before sniffing the aroma. “They’re actually for y—”

“They’re so pretty, Jungkook! Seokjin’s gonna love them!” You interrupted him as you went towards the kitchen to find an empty vase for them, leaving the human standing like the emoji. He watched your form disappear to another room before you shouted for him to follow.

Once he reached you, you planted the flowers on the granite counter while you searched through the cabinets for the flower holder. As you did so, Jungkook brought up a question. “So…where is Seokjin?”

You finally found a vase when he asked. “He had to do something in Naameth before this. He should be arriving any minute.” You said as you filled it up with water.

“Huh? Late to the meeting? Doesn’t seem like a reliable person…” Jungkook tried to be discreet but he really wasn’t.

“You’re both late. Almost an hour and a half.” You pointed out without thought as you positioned the purple roses inside the jug and decorated them at the center of the kitchen table. “At least he told me beforehand.”

You weren’t scolding the human, though you were blunt and stated facts. It caused Jungkook to feel ashamed because he was indeed late, but didn’t bother to speak up about it. “Sorry, I got nervous so I had to use the bathroom a couple of times before coming here.”

“Oh, Jungkook!” You chuckled at his shy state, turning back to him. You’ve never seen him like this before. “There’s no reason to be nervous. I think Seokjin will like you.”

Why were you making everything about Seokjin? That wasn’t why he was nervous. “No, it’s not that.” He denied, holding the edge of the kitchen surface.

“Then what is it?” You came forth, grabbing and holding his hand with your two smaller ones. You looked concerned, almost like you wanted to take action to make his worries away.

He still was in denial.

Jungkook could only open his mouth when the two of you heard a loud bang erupt, making you both flinch and search for the noise. It came from the front, so you scurried together and passed the living room to find the cause.

In all his fucking glory and shining ego, your one and only mentor arrived like a celebrity on the red carpet. The Seokjin wore a white double-breasted blazer with a dress shirt that matched underneath. The shoulder pads of the jacket made his wide-set shoulders even more like the hypotenuse of a Pythagorean theorem. The right side of it draped down reaching his thigh, giving an asymmetrical look. Instead of going monochrome, the incubus opted for black pants and boots.

Seokjin’s hair was also pushed back, but there was a ridiculously enormous ivory fedora sitting at the top of his head. What made it even worse was a gold feather attached to it. Though it sounded outrageous, the demon somehow made it work.

Seokjin’s eyes strolled around the house until they landed on your puzzled ones. A smile beamed on his face then he spreads his arms wide open before strutting up to your stature. “My darling love!!”

Once he got to you, he pulled your body into his chest and spun you around. After that, he puts you down and kissed the top of your head, leaving you flabbergasted and Jungkook’s jaw clenched. What the fuck Seokjin?

“Uhh, Seokjin, what are you doing?” You questioned, not understanding what was going on. You stepped away from him and moved closer to Jungkook.

“What do you mean, little one? I’m greeting you.” Your mentor responded oh so causally.

“You’re not really lik—”

“Ahh, you must be Jeon Jungkook.” Seokjin ignored what you said when he immediately faced contact with the only human in the room. “It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many things about you!” He extended his hand for a handshake.

Hmmm, that seemed to give Jungkook a bit of satisfaction so he accepted the introduction and shook his hand. “Same for you…but I never knew she talked about me.”

“Yes, of course. She does…when we’re in her room alone together.”

Jungkook’s face sank. His head craned to you to see you…nodding???

“Yeah, and sometimes in his office.” You agreed. Uhhhh, was this going well?

“Anyways, shall we get started Jungkook?” Seokjin recommended. “You and I can chat in the dining area while our ___ here will finish up cooking. She’s making her signature dish! It’s incredible. Believe me. I’ve had it before.” He exaggerated the last parts towards the human while rubbing his stomach.

Jungkook’s right eye twitched and it doesn’t go unnoticed by a close-lipped smile from Seokjin who seemed unbothered.

Meanwhile, you didn’t see anything. “I wouldn’t call it my signature dish, but I wanted to be mindful of Jungkook’s taste. He doesn’t like anything too sour and many of demon’s dishes taste quite sour.”

Again, you were acknowledging his preferences, being so cautious with him. Jungkook’s heart palpitated quicker than before when you ended your statement with a smile and gaze at him.

“Plus this dish doesn’t have garlic and Seokjin is allergic to that!”

It was great while it lasted.

-

While you were preoccupied in the kitchen cooking and listening to this band that shined through the city with a little funk and soul, Jungkook was alone in the dining room with Seokjin. They sat across each other on the long table, one sat on the farthest end and the other did the same on the other end. Their posture was straight with their hands intertwined, resting on the table, almost like they were mimicking one another.

Though it only has been five minutes, nothing was said just glares. More so, towards the nonchalant Seokjin who kept his eye contact, Jungkook leered aggressively at the sight of the demon. All because he had three reasons to act this way.

Number one—Jungkook was pissed off because Seokjin was fucking gorgeous and hot. He was wrong. How was this level of sexiness possible? You informed him that sex demons were born to be visually pleasing, but this fucking dude took the prize of most handsome and went home within the minute. He dreaded it so much but had to give props to the incubus.

Number B—was the way Seokjin held and kissed you…and like you accepted? He never wanted to see you in the arms of another, that idea made him want to vomit his brains out. 

Finally, letter 3—it was almost as if Seokjin indirectly challenged him, eyeing the human out every chance he had. Was that it? Does Seokjin want a competition? What was his catch? Weren’t they supposed to discuss your training and abilities? Why was this turning into who gets to claim you?

Well, you shouldn’t be claimed regardless…but in Jungkook’s defense, you were his.

“So are we gonna discuss ___ and her training?” Jungkook was the first to break the ice as scowling at the strong demon was going nowhere. “I want this to be productive for not only her but myself too.”

“Wow, you seem to care a lot about her, human,” Seokjin commented, slowly nodding his head as he wrote down something on a piece of paper in his opened manila folder. “Do you know why I wanted to see you? Better yet, do you know why I’m talking to you?”

The human cocked an eyebrow. “Uhh, ___ said that the higher-ups said we needed to meet.”

The demon hummed in response as he leaned back into his chair. “Well, that’s the main reason, but there are other answers to that question.”

Jungkook grew confused. “What do you mean?”

Seokjin sagged his head to the side to look past Jungkook to watch you dancing stiffly. “___ is a special demon. So special that she had to get a task helper for her training.” He began. “And so special that she’s important to me.”

Okay, we’re getting to the good stuff because Jungkook squinted his eyes at the demon in front of him. “She’s important to you?”

“Yes, why do you sound like it’s shocking?” Seokjin replied, eyes testing the human. “I mean you had to meet me for her sake.”

“Isn’t it the other way around?”

“Nope, because the higher-ups needed me to see how capable you are. You think a strong, powerful, and handsome demon like myself would willingly want to meet an egotistical zealous human like you? You’re practically a side bug ready to be flicked away if I say you go.”

“What even are you to her?” The human scoffed, not caring if he was being rude to a demon who kill his ass with one hit. “You’re acting so high and fucking mighty. You could be meaningless in all of this.”

“Funny you ask that…” The incubus chuckled darkly. He leaned forward as if he was telling a secret to him despite the one-and-a-half meter distance. But with his powers, Seokjin whispered, “She’s my little play toy.”

Though soft-spoken, his words traveled loud and clear in Jungkook’s ear. The tone mocked the human’s ego and pride, his possession over you. He hated it. He fucking hated it. 

And to make matters worse, Seokjin had the power to replay those words in his head. She’s my little play toy. She’s my little play toy. She’s my little play toy. She’s my little play toy. She’s Seokjin’s little play toy.

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he held onto the table tightly to ease his anger. He needed his positive mindset to overcast the shit Seokjin was doing. You were not his play toy. You weren’t Seokjin’s. You weren’t his to play with.

It should be him. But not as a play toy. But one to be with and to be cherished by him. He should be the one to call you his. He should be the one to hug you and twirl you around. He should be the one to kiss your forehead. He should be the one to call you “my darling love.” He should—

“Dinner’s ready!” You announced flying in all perky and filled with joy. Your horns wiggled in delight at the food. Wings flapping in the air, you patted Jungkook’s head, snapping him out of his trance to gawk at you.

Your puffy smile and crinkled eyes consoled his inner turmoil. How was it possible that the sight of you washed away his worries yet made his heart ache so bad he felt like he was about to explore? What was going on with him on the inside? He couldn’t understand it. He didn’t want to understand it. There was no way.

You flew towards your mentor, ready to slap that goofy grin off his bothersome face when Seokjin grabbed you by the arm and tugged you down. You landed on his lap unexpectedly, making a “humph’ sound. You blinked profoundly at him before saying, “What the fu—”

Usually, Seokjin interrupts you by talking and not caring about anything you say, but today was different. He halted your complaint by kissing you on the lips. Your eyes widened, and you didn’t dare to kiss back. Sure, they were soft but fucking disgusting. It was like kissing an uncle.

It was also different from what you’re used to and you couldn’t help but compare.

You stayed still like a dead fish as your mentor tried deepening the kiss. You were too shocked to even push away. But it was a voice that you knew all too well that ultimately stopped your interaction with Seokjin.

“NO!” Jungkook slammed his palms on the table, standing up from his seat.

Seokjin parted away from you and didn’t even bother to look at your disturbed expression. On the other hand, he was very much interested in finding a furious and raging Jungkook before him. Seokjin swore he heard growls from the human. This human must be a different breed, the incubus thought.

Livid heat dragged down his neck, his jaw sharpened and clenched, and steam blew out of his nostrils. Jungkook charged toward the two of you. Though you were innocent and puzzled by all of this, the human snatched you off of your mentor by the waist with one arm, carrying you. 

With his vacant arm, Jungkook thought it was a fast and effective solution to beat the shit out of Seokjin. So using all the force and techniques he learned through boxing, he punched Seokjin once, causing the demon to fall to the ground.

However, it seemed that Jungkook was done with Seokjin as he began to walk away with you now in both of his arms. You said nothing, not knowing how to contribute to this. But you chose to glance over to your mentor.

Knowing Seokjin, he doesn’t hold if someone attacks him. But at that moment, he watched the two of you walk away calmly before winking at you cheekily.

Seriously, what the fuck was going on?

You spoke no words to Jungkook as you migrated elsewhere into the house. It was when he threw you onto a bed, you realized he brought you into your bedroom. You followed his moves when he locked the door and removed his jacket from him. With piercing irises meeting your fazed doe-eyes, he loosened his tie before taking it off as well. He rolled up his sleeves up to his elbow to his comfort and liking.

He stalked around the bed, eyeing your every move, every facial expression, every breath. You sensed his dominating presence radiating the whole area, growing by the second. You surely understood what was going to happen when he was like this but still unsure of why was it happening right now and before dinner.

You feared him in an arousing way because you were excited to do this with him. It has been a while since Jungkook has been very clingy lately. You thought you anticipated his every move but tonight, you were going to be wrong and sorry that you assumed in the first place.

Your submission gradually exposed itself, afraid to speak up but you needed to know. “U-uh, Jungkook, why are you—”

“It’s sir to you, angel. Have I not been clear from the fucking start?” His dark voice spat venom, leaving no signs of care and cuddles for you.

“Yes, you’ve been clear, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” You hiccuped, you felt yourself shrinking before him. It was the way you both loved it. His mouth twitched but restrained himself from showing anything else but this. He came forth, being on the end of the bed, and leered down at you with that familiar stare. “S-sir, I’m just wondering why you—Eeek!”

Perhaps it was Not Let ___ Talk Day because you couldn’t finish your sentence when Jungkook flipped you over effortlessly by your waist. He pulled your legs and rested your knees onto the mattress, ass raised high in the air. He used his other hand and pushed down your back, bending your spine while your face was smushed into the sheets.

You wiggled as a reaction, but Jungkook wasn’t having it. He lifted the skirt of your dress, revealing your purple lacy thong that barely covered your tiny but chubby pussy. Though he wanted to let out a sigh of please, he was on a mission. With a heavy hand, he smacked your ass to keep you still.

You squeaked at the stinging sensation but felt yourself getting leaking down your hole. You couldn’t help it…he was that attractive, you were a sex demon, and you wanted more.

 “You should know to keep still, you fucking slut!” He spat, giving you another spank and you groaned. “Do I have to repeat myself?”

“N-no, sir.” You sniffled, digging your face into the comforter.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Each slap got harder and harder. You swore your ass cheeks were getting numb from the ache. Your skin probably had his hand imprint, feeling raw and tender from his continuous slaps.

You heard the noise of unbuckling and a belt slithering out. You waited quietly until you voiced out a cry when the leather strap touched your swollen red ass cheek and coccyx. “Nooo, Koo!”

The evilness in Jungkook softened when he heard your pleading cry. He dropped the belt and crawled beside you. He helped you move your head to face him. You were flushed, and tears threatened to fall down your cheeks but he found the lust still in your eyes. He noticed how your ass trembled, but your tail looked in shock by it. 

“Angel, did I hurt you?” With no words, you nodded timidly. Fuck, Jungkook wanted to beat himself up for pushing your limits. “Fuck ___, I’m so sorry. I’m such a shithead. We’ll stop this right no—”

“No, we don’t need to, sir.” You reassured, giving him such a precious grin. “Just no belt, please?”

He saw you, serious and promising as ever. He didn’t deserve you at all. Yet you still took him in with all your might and will. You wanted him to continue, he knew it. It was all over your face.

He smiled ever so gently, truly taking you in. He moved down to kiss your ass cheek and caressed your tail which made you inhale sharply. He went back to you grinning once more before came the cynical expression. 

He stood up from the bed, observing your position. You daringly wiggled your behind once again, releasing any guilt Jungkook previously had. Shit, you’re such a tease.

He gave you one last spank before rubbing your pained bottom. You jolted from time to time, experiencing the ghost of the slaps. Once you seemed laxer, Jungkook turned you over on your back and wings. His stare leering at you while you peered open with eyes that screamed “more!”

“Take off everything, slut.” Jungkook demanded.

So with the blink of an eye, your clothes and undergarments were gone, leaving you bare. One interesting power you obtained from the past months was your ability to take your clothes off when you feel like it without even moving an inch. You were confused by it, even telling Seokjin about it. But your mentor told you succubi can develop special and personal powers on top of the standard skills. It was great for you, extra great for Jungkook. 

He paused for a while, pupils dancing all over your supple body. It was something he knew he would never get tired of seeing. From the top of your head, down to your plush breasts, the curves of your waist and hips, and your captivating legs. But in between your legs laid the cunt he wanted to devour for years.

You were already practically flowing a river, drenching the bedsheet under you. He could see a translucent string connected from your hole to the dampened area. You were always so ready for him. 

He grunted softly, his mouth watering at the sight of your center. He wanted to taste it, yet he still had other plans with you. Grabbing his belt off the floor, he walked steadily to your form. “Arms up.” You obliged within half a second. He hoisted you up the bed. Tying your wrists with the leather, he attached it to the headboard. He tugged on making sure it wasn’t too tight for you, so when you nodded, you were ready to go.

He climbed the bed. Your eyes met with his, his warm breathing hit your cheek. He gulped then clenched his jaw, demeanor hardening the more he kept his gaze. “You deserve to be punished, you stupid whore.”

Your irises enlarged, growing puzzled by his statement. “Why do I have t—“

“Did I say to fucking talk?!?!” He fumed, making you flinch. You quickly shook your head in denial. “You talk when I tell you to, and you do as I fucking say! When I ask you a question, you better answer! I’m not gonna repeat myself. Am I clear?”

You nodded cowardly but it wasn’t the right answer. Jungkook groaned in frustration, which led him to reach over to your nipple and pinch it hard. You winced at the pain yet pleasure of his touch. Your body wanted to submit to him. “Yes, you’re clear, sir!!”

“Good little demon.” He finally complimented and your horns twitched, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him but won’t acknowledge out in the open.

Jungkook had his hands on your knees before spreading them wide to get a clearer view of your glistening cunt. Fuck, he wanted to die. So pretty and swollen, just for him. He bent down to be on eye level. You felt him lingering before he lightly blew into your heat. You moaned softly, the cool air touching you though it wasn’t what you wanted. But you stayed quiet so that Jungkook doesn’t get angry. 

He pulled back and it killed you, almost barking back. But when he shoved two fingers in your sudden hole, all thoughts disappeared and a high-pitched whine snapped out of you. He was not slow and steady. He wasted no time pumping hard in circular motions into your pussy, trying to find your sweet spot. When your voice raised higher, he knew he had already found it.

He then pushed in another finger to help you get more stretched out. It was immaculate how tight your cunt was despite taking in his thick dick. He cursed under his breath, watching you having a harder time breathing from all the mewling you did. Your face was already so enamored with what little he did to you, making him grin like an asshole.

“Such a little slut. Do you like it when I finger this tight fucking cunt?”

You nodded like a child wanting candy. “Yes, I love it, sir.” He kept hitting your g-spot and you got so dizzy. Jungkook decided to test your limit again by adding another finger in you. It was a snug fit but he was still able to continue his thrusts. His palm was practically inside of you getting messed up by the amount of essence you spurted out.

The stretch gave a dull pinch, but you handled it well. You dug your fingers into your palm as it was the only thing you could do besides attempting to break free from the belt which was unsuccessful. But holy shit, so many of his fingers touched your nerves. Each swipe to your rough patch made you go crazy. Your petals sang choir songs to his ears, body, and soul. You felt the knot in your stomach breaking, getting closer and closer to your finish line. Jungkook could feel you reaching your high, so he fastened his pace.

You moaned loudly, knowing what was about to come. However, the human decided to pull out of you a second before you came. You winced as your stretched-out walls pulsed around nothing. Your soaking cunt dripped and ached in pain from the denial. Tears escaped your eyes, your nose getting stuffier than before, and the painful eyes you gave to an unbothered human.

“I didn’t say to cum. You cum when I tell you to.” Jungkook growled, then slurping all of your wetness from his palm to the tip of his fingers. 

“P-puh-please, s-sir.” You tried to speak, but you were getting intoxicated by the horniness you had for that man. “C-can…I…cum?”

“Aww, you’re begging. How cute.” He spoke condescendingly yet you gave no fucks because all you wanted right now was his dick. Which by the way looked insane hard and large in his pants. “But no, you don’t deserve it.”

“H-huh?”

“You wanna cum, you gotta earn it.” He sneered before slapping your inner thigh so close to your wet folds but not close enough. You could only let out a pliant sound, watching his menacing aura boost. “Do you still have those red candles?”

In a haze, you nodded. A while back, one of your tasks was the use of BDSM and you got provided a box filled with toys and other items to use. Besides rope, blindfolds, and ball gags, there were scarlet strawberry-scented massage candles. But they were never used because there was no time and that task went on for AGES.

However, Jungkook thought now was a good time to use them. “Bring them in.”

To his command, you magically brought it from Naameth. They were displayed on your nightstand, unused and neatly placed with the violet-colored lighter next to them.

Jungkook reached over for one of them and the lighter. Concentrated on what he had in his hands, he examined the two. The long candle presented hefty due to its thickness but it weighed light. He wafted the fruity aroma and hummed in delight before igniting the wick.

Ember appeared before him, illuminating a small bubble around it. He waited until he started seeing a small pool of liquid for the real games to begin.

Hovering it over your intoxicated cunt, he titled the candle. The ruby fluid flowed down and dripped onto your sensitivity, making you yelp at the burn. He moved all over your form, going from your nipples, your navel, back to your center, your neck, and any of your parts he knew you were sensitive in. 

The stinging pain electrified your body, cascading a new tsunami of emotions you’ve never experienced before. Streams of wax trickled down and solidified on your burning skin, marking you.

“You like this?” Jungkook interrogated while you measly nodded, quaking as more of the candle wax landed on you. “Of course, you do. You filthy demon.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes before placing the still-lit candle on the table.

Suddenly, he flipped you over in the same position you first started in. Your wrists rubbed along the belt, probably going to get bruises. He wasted no time slapping your ass again once. He retrieved the candle back, which had melted an abundance of fluid that created a deep pool.

Jungkook enjoyed seeing you in painful pleasure when a sinister smirk morphed on his hot fucking face. Without thinking any further, he had the candle over your back and poured all of it on your wings.

If Jungkook had seen your face, he would have seen your eyes shrink into beady dots. An elongating shriek fled out of you, froth foaming around your mouth. Your burgundy tail rested on the side, hiding away from the utter surprise. Your wings fluttered out of control, shaking like two Christmas ornaments filled with mung beans but not at all in a fun way. 

You tried breaking free but you were scrawny as shit. The burn rushed through your blood and went straight to your agonizing cunt and oozing more of your wetness on the bed. A pleasant sight for the human behind you. The sensation didn’t hurt as much as you expected, but fuck, you were about to go pray to the heavens for something to happen. You sobbed harshly into the pillow because though you felt so much but not enough to reach your peak. Your thighs quaked like a wet cat. you wanted to fucking cum, but he wasn’t letting you. 

“I’m impressed that you’re still not talking and taking it like the whore I know you are,” Jungkook commented before blowing out the candle. The smell of smoke mixed with the artificial strawberry scent lingered in the area.

You didn’t bother turning back to him. Instead, you dug your head into the duvet and unconsciously arched your back lower to accentuate your rounded ass. Jungkook groaned at his perfect vision of you. He guessed you deserve something. “Just for that, you deserve a little treat.” Putting his hands in the dips of your waist, he hoisted the lower half of your body up in the air.

Being so small, it was easy for gym rat boxing galore Jungkook to carry you like you were a feather. He settled the tops of your thigh onto his shoulders. You practically were levitating since Jungkook was huge even when sitting down. He pushed your spine down and you don’t even know what position this was. He was lucky you weren’t human because you were practically shaped as a “u.” Thank you demon bones.

Jungkook had such a delicious view of your petaled sex, so bloated and drenched just begging for him. He scooted closer to the headboard, bringing you with him. Now only your head was shoved onto the bed because you hung upside down. His strong arms wrapped around you with your shivering thighs still on him.

He leaned his head before sticking his pink tongue into your cunt, making you mewl like the needy little thing you were. The muscle then swiped up and down, pushing its way into you. Then the tip found your clit, causing you to shudder. Tears broke free but they went straight to staining the sheets. You were too stimulated and not enough to feel the release.  

Fuck, you tasted better than the last time like he was eating sweet cherries freshly picked out from the farm. He loved that you can actually change your essence’s flavor but honestly just as it was natural was the best one in his honest opinion.

Then your horns twitched.

Suddenly the arousal changed to your original taste, shocking Jungkook as his eyes widened but didn’t complain one bit. It only gave him more reason to latch on to your sensitivity and suckled the way you loved. Your legs trembling in ecstasy but he kept you still in his arms. Your moans increased by the second, wanting to speak his name but you didn’t dare to.

Until he gripped your tail.

“Sir!” You wept out, turning your head to breathe some oxygen. Jungkook surprisingly didn’t punish you and continued stroking your appendage. His thumb applied pressure, amplifying the state you were in. If you weren’t a moaning mess before, you most certainly were now. Your mind turned into cotton. Your eyes rolled back as your hips pushed towards his face.

His lapping tongue embedded your shaking center while the tip of his nose poked your aching bud. He ran his fingers from your tailbone to the heart tip. He went back to your base and pulled on it not too harshly but not too lightly either. You swore you were about to see stars from all this stimulation. The build-up in you got stronger and stronger, almost toward the finish line. “O-oh, I gonna cu—”

Subsequently, he stopped again. He released your tail and plopped your body back onto the mattress, bouncing from the impact. “No, you’re not.” He scooted away from you, legs spread open as he felt himself losing patience with him.

You whimpered, hot streams going down your cheeks. Dammit, you were so close. As sadist as Jungkook was in bed, this by far had to be the cruelest thing he has ever done to you. You’d rather have a bajillion orgasms than get denied them.

“Remember what I fucking said, slut. You can’t come unless I say so and you don’t deserve it after what you did.”

You were on the verge of losing the 3% of insanity left in you. You weren’t understanding your position right now. Yes, you loved the pain and the pleasure he gave but why did he do it right before dinner time? Tonight was supposed to be important but now you’re suddenly blamed for reasons you don’t know. So you spoke without caring about the consequences. You twisted onto your back to face his darkened blushed expression. Your wrists were hurt from the constraint. “W-why can’t I c-cum? I ne-never did a-anything!”

Wow, you finally yelled back. It took you long enough. But Jungkook, being stubborn and never wanting to back down, wanted to punish you. Unfortunately, his feelings for you were in the way and he had to let out his thoughts, or else, he was about to explode. “Because you let Seokjin fucking kiss you!” He spat out. “You don’t get to cum until you realize you don’t need him in your life!”

You blinked dumbly, taken aback. What the fuck was he talking about? Seokjin was your mentor, you needed him! Even after you finished your training, he was your mentor for all eternity. “Wh-what? I do need him! He can’t go away!” A bit of logic crept into your brain, trying to understand what Jungkook was getting at.

“Wrong answer, angel.”

Jungkook got off of the bed, pupils never leaving yours. Button by button, he unloosened his shirt, exposing his glistening tan skin and chocolate bar abs. Once he flicked it off of him, his sleeve tattoos were fully visible. He unzipped his pants, freeing him from the clothing. The outline of his hardened girthy dick and the wet spot on his boxers was clearly shown and it made your mouth water. Damn, this human was so defined. You wanted to throw up at how sexy he was.

He cupped himself to relieve some discomfort he went through. He bit his lips while staring into your gleaming pupils, so clueless about how he truly felt yet you still managed to bewitch him regardless. He removed the last article on him, now bare with his curved cock bouncing from his movements. He played with his lip ring, smirking at how you got unconsciously rubbed your thighs together as he played with himself. “What do you want?”

You gulped, “I-I-I want you, sir.”

Jungkook snorted haughtily, “Yeah, right. Go to Seokjin, maybe he’ll give you the half-ass orgasm that you deserved.”

You furrowed your eyebrows again. What the fuck does Seokjin have to do with all of this? You would never let him touch you the way Jungkook does. Why does he sound like he has so much hatred for your mentor? They fucking met an hour ago.

You shook your head naively, “No, I want you, Jungkook. I always have.”

Your voice and words stabbed his heart. How could you even say that when you’re with Seokjin? Wait, hold on…are you cheating on the demon with him? Are you a cheater? But doesn’t Seokjin know that you’ve been fucking him? Maybe it was an open relationship? What the fuck was between you and Seokjin?

But Jungkook realized—he was only your task helper. Nothing more, nothing less. That was why Seokjin was okay with all of this. That was why you weren’t acknowledging what he did for you. It was mindless. You needed a human to help you with your training, and that was what you got.

Your relationship was nonexistent, and it ached Jungkook. Fuck, he can’t do this anymore. He couldn’t suppress it any longer. Demon or not, you were you and he was him. You were vulnerable and dense to everything, you almost killed him by accident every single time, but he loved it because you still had a good heart and you cared wholeheartedly. You were the literal perfect being in his life.

He was in love with you and there was no way of stopping him.

Was this how the hookups and flings felt? Because it was hurting him on the inside very deeply. This was probably karma.

“Jungkook?” You called out, snapping him out of his trance.

The human blinked a couple of times before acknowledging you again. You were naked, legs spread apart. Your perspired skin glowed under the warm light. Breasts were perky and nipples were pointed. Your arousal leaked down your perineum, even landing on your puckered anus.

He thought this was the last time that he would see you like this. He had to stop seeing you. It was no good for his human heart. He didn’t want to go through this unrequited love any longer. He had to give up immediately. Well…after he fucks you into oblivion as a last hoorah, then he’d give up.

Like a hyena attacking its prey, Jungkook was back in bed. He felt his emotions threatening to get to him through his tear ducts. He couldn’t do that right now, he had to suck it up and release all of it through fucking you. He blinked rapidly to keep his cool. His hands reached the back of your thighs, opening you up.

His eye contact was fierce, scrutinizing your soul. It made your demon heart skip a beat at how intense he looked at you. Without breaking, he took himself and positioned it to your slit. He didn’t ask if you were ready as he was already going in but slower than usual. Inch by inch, he disappeared in you and you mewled at the stretch of him. He pushed in once more until the head touched your tiny cervix, promptly making you go unhinged. 

You were drooling, getting the drug you finally wanted. You talked nonsensically as you bit down on your lower lips. You could practically cum, but you knew you couldn’t. How was it possible for a human dick to ruin your entire existence? That, you don’t know but you weren’t complaining.

All you could think about was Jungkook, his body, his cock, his personality, his soul. Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. It was all about him.

He didn’t ask to move; he just did. Knowing you, you also wanted him to start now. However, he wanted to make this last as long as he could. But he felt too stimulated he thought he was going to burst in you once he filled you up. The love he had for you overpowered his control, his dominance. His pace was different, it was slower yet way harder than usual.

Each thrust made you squirm under him. You looked so pretty, cross-eyed, with hair sticking on your forehead, and trying to escape your confinement. You pleaded to get out of it by weeping high-pitched noises. You badly wanted to touch him, hold him. “Pweesh, t-t-toush you!” You yanked on the belt, attempting anything. You were numb on your wrists, only sensing the cock pounding you like there was no tomorrow. “Toush you!”

Jungkook refused for him to touch you because it will only break him into a million pieces. If you laid a hand on him, he wouldn’t want to let go of you. But he was selfish, so so so selfish. He needed this way more than you did. It was for his one last time and his everlasting memory. 

Without contemplating any longer, he penetrated deeper into you. With one hand on your hips for stability, he untied your wrists. When you were free, the weight of your hands felt heavier as they bounced onto the wrinkled covers. They were much more tired than expected but Jungkook took your wrists with his hand to examine the marks that formed around them, noticing the red and purple sores.

He held them to his lips and pecked endless kisses like it was medicine to the pain. It was sort of like that because they weren’t as delicate as they appeared. His tongue lapped around the bruises. Your hands were lighter than before, allowing you to wrap them around his nape. You caught him by surprise as his big bunny eyes widened.

You pulled him near you, your noses meeting. Your lips were swollen and red, relentless moans escaped your mouth. You ran your fingers into his damp raven hair, securing hold onto him. You had no brain anymore, no thinks, no words. You lived and breathe to obey him. You were now and always will be Jungkook’s pocketpussy.

You stretched your head, puckering your lips to finally meet his, also shocking him and his brain. His heart thumped faster than normal, especially when you swiped your tongue over his teeth. The kiss grew messier, slobbering around the rims of your mouths and exchanging and swallowing each other’s spit. 

Jungkook stopped tonguing you but his mouth was still on yours. “Say you’re mine. I wanna hear you say it.” He grunted. His long cock dragged in your battered pussy. “Fucking say it!”

“Y-yours, sir! I yours!”

“No, say my name right now!” Jungkook commanded. Even though he loved his sir kink, he needed to hear his name out of your mouth. “Whose are you?”

“I’m yours, Jungkook!”

“That’s right. Fucking slutty demon creaming around my big cock, you better be.” His pace increased roughly, making the pressure in your abdomen come back again. Your walls ached in hopes that you weren’t going to be rid of another orgasm. The connectedness between you two sounded sticky and wet as his dick collected the ring of foaming white from you. 

“I am—hunghhh! I-I-I’ll always be.” You truthfully said, but Jungkook didn’t believe you. You were drunk in carnality. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” There was envy and wrath in his voice but it was to cover his frail judgments. “You take what you fucking get.”

“But mo’! More! Mo’!” You begged brainlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Pweesh, sir!”

“I must have fucking spoiled you. Begging for more that you can’t even handle, slut! Bad demon!” He ridiculed you, but you loved it so much. Your weakened succubus mind loved his cruel insults.

“I not bad!!!” You sobbed, tears bubbling up around your eyes from the stimulation.

“Yes, you fucking are. Bad to me because I can’t get enough of you! Bad to my body, bad to my cock that only wants to be wrapped around this tight fucking pussy.” He impaled you rampantly, your cunt bawling at the crude action. “Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad!” With each thrust, he emphasized and then pinched your inflated clit in between his index finger and thumb. 

You screamed as you knew you couldn’t hold it in any longer. The knot in you played tug-o-war. Body vibrating endlessly like a cellular device’s alarm, you were about to die if you kept it in. “Cum! Cum! Cum!” You chanted, wishing he’d finally let you. “Cum! Cu—”

“Cum all over me, baby.”

Once he said those words, the sound that came out of you was neither inhumane nor demonic. Your eyes crossed, making you smell the twinkly little stars around. The warmth coursed through your blood while your brain melted into a puddle. You wailed, gasping for air, sounding like a dying pig that was about to turn into bacon. Body convulsed, shuttering every millisecond while helplessly holding onto the solid man above you. He guided you through your high, rocking into you. You clenched tightly around his flaming cock, making him whine that how he was getting closer to his high.

When you finally came, your tail swiveled out and up then sprinkled cum all over your bodies. Jungkook snatched your squirting appendage, causing you to yelp at the sensitivity. He pressed the tip of it into your slightly parted mouth. “Suck up your cum.” Moaning, you succumbed to his command and opened your mouth as he inserted your spewing heart-tailed end. With your tongue sticking out, you tried swallowing your non-stop cum, but it ended up splashing all over your fucked out face.

Jungkook leaned down and joined in on your slurping session. Both of your tongues glided up and down your gushing limb. He followed the pattern of your tail, shaping around smooth ripples. Your muscles met at the tip, drinking in your pool of essence. You were intoxicated and delirious with passion and overstimulation. Your skull was hollow as an abyss. Nothing from you made sense.

He parted away before gripping back onto your hips harshly and faster, causing you to purr. It was too much, but you sucked it up. His dick continued thrusting inside of you, but he was in shambles from also trying to chase his high. 

“Wanna get stuffed?” He grumbled. You could only nod, tongue lolling from side to side. “Get filled by my golden human cum.” You nodded needier. “Are you worthy of it? Are you worthy of me?”

You thought you said yes but gibberish came out instead. But it was his cue to finally cum too.

His head dropped to the crevice of your neck. He pumped into you once more before stilling himself. He whined in your ear, calling your name like a mantra. His trembling abdomen squeezed hard and his grasp on you tensed as he shot out ropes and ropes of sticky white in your battered cunt. He painted your inside, your exhausted body taking in the warmth.

Your eyes glowed scarlet again, absorbing his semen into your powers. Jungkook felt a slight tingle when you unknowingly took particles of his life force again, but he was used to it by now. It was going to come back to him anyways.

He delicately removed himself from you, but you still wailed. He peppered light kisses on your shoulder to ease you. He sat up, seeing how fucked out you looked with his cum spilling out of your wheezing hole. You looked so gorgeous like this and it was all because of him. Not Seokjin. Fucking him.

Fuck, Seokjin.

He didn’t want his cum to go to waste so he scooped the excess from the sheets and pushed it back into you. You let out a long moan, trying to push away his hand but you were too tired to. Once he was satisfied, he lay beside you, gazing at your blushing expression. You were panting heavily, as usual, never going to catch up with his energy. But you were so beautiful, it pained him. 

You turned your head, drooping eyes saw the sparkles in his. He was utterly out of this world. A star shining above the rest, yet he was next to you and you wouldn’t change it anywhere even if you were realms apart.

Your shaking hand engulfed his cheek, your thumb rubbing his sweaty skin. You closed your eyes and moved towards him to close the gap, but you suddenly felt him pull away. Your eyelids snapped open when you saw him staggering out of bed.

“I-I-I have to get out of here.” He announced, rushingly scanning the room for his clothes. He had to leave now or else he was never backing out.

Though you were in a disoriented daze from post-coital, him saying he had to leave triggered your senses. You jolted up, watching him collect his garments. You never saw him this frazzled or in a hurry before. Every time you had sex, he enjoyed cuddling with you or keeping you in his arms. You were baffled and actually peeved off he was acting like this and he wasn’t telling you why.

“Koo, what’s going on?” You questioned, but you grimaced at how groggy your voice was.

“Don’t you fucking Koo me!” He swore at you. Though Jungkook was vile in bed, he was never like that outside of it. This complete 185 frightened and sorrowed you. “You know what you fucking did.”

“No, I don’t.” You informed but it sounded like a question because you didn’t know what you did. Damn, did you fuck up on dinner or something? “Jungkook, why are you so heated? Right now, in bed, more heated than usual.”

His glare on you softened when he realized the dim-wittedness lurking in your pupils. Not a damn thing in you figured out what was going on. You still knew nothing. “Forget it. It’s nothing but I have to—”

"Okay, even I know that's a straight-up lie." You interrupted him, not buying anything he was saying. You wanted to understand his reasoning. He looked so angry and frustrated. Yet you weren’t, so you wanted to calm him down and be mindful of whatever you did to make him this upset. "Talk to me. I've been easygoing, haven't I?"

"No."

"What do you mean?" You pouted cutely, and it only angered him even more.

"You're so frustrating!" Jungkook groaned, then paced around the room with his flaccid dick swinging around like a pendulum. "You really have no sense of what's going on, do you?”

Okay, that offended you. You gasped, “Now you're sounding like Seokjin—“

"Oh, Seokjin now? Wow, me sounding like him. Pfft, you might as well go to him instead of getting someone like him."

“I am confusion!”

"You're confused? You're confusing me!!"

"Jungkook, what the fuck is going on? Be clear with me!” You probed for the last time, losing your unwavering patience. You stood up wobbly from the ruined mattress. Though your legs were practically falling apart, you stood your ground. “Do human men also have periods?"

He paused his steps and pivoted towards you. He encircled an arm around your stature, chests pressing each other. He kept your balance when he picked you up and rested his forehead on your shoulder. He needed to say it before he was free from you. "I love you, ___."

Your jaw dropped, stunning you with his confession. Sadly, for the both of you, you don’t react well so you said, ”Uhhh, excuse me?? What the actual fuck?"

He chuckled but there was so much sadness to it. He knew it was too good to be true. He lifted his head, then touched your forehead with his, smelling his warm garlic bread breath (when did he have garlic bread?), and graze your nose. "I said I love you…and I'm embarrassed and miserable because you're with Seokjin."

You morphed a face of horror when he revealed that. “Huh? I’m not with Seokjin. Fuck that!" Never in your whole life would ever think to be with that conniving, irritating, egotistical, yet handsome incubus. You never had a level of attraction to Seokjin as opposed to Jungkook. 

Now Jungkook grew more puzzled. “Then what the fuck is he to you?"

"He's my mentor!! He guides me through and is in charge of my training. As a mentor, he is with me for all eternity!” You explained.“He's the one who wanted to meet with you. I thought I made that clear!"

"No, you didn't!"

"Oh."

You were flabbergasted, you assumed you told him everything about Seokjin. But when you thought about it a little longer, it seemed your explanations were empty and filled with avoidance. In your defense, you never wanted to think about your mentor, especially when you were with Jungkook.

“Yeah, he's touchy and affectionate with you, even calling you pet names. I assumed you were with him before meeting him too.” Jungkook was distraught, reminiscing about today’s incident in his mind. The way Seokjin held you, and talked to you, it all seemed so real. “Like why else did he kiss you and call you his play toy?”

"Because I like to fuck around!" Seokjin burst through the door unapologetically into the sexed-up scented room, hearing everything that was done and said. You both flinched from the sound, spotting the incubus appearing amused. At first response, Jungkook was quick to protect your body from being shown to another. You weren’t as alarmed. Seokjin saw you naked before due to a physical examination. You glanced blankly at your nosy mentor. "She’s my play toy as in I like to play around and mentally scar her.” Your mentor’s eyes wandered around the mess before landing on Jungkook’s bare ass. “I knew you loved her! Even the higher-ups could see it! You were just being stubborn and ___’s a fucking dumbass to see it!"

“So…Jungkook loves me?” You finally recognized his feelings towards you.

“Did he or I just fucking say that, you dipshit?” Seokjin complained, shaking his head at you.

"But you don't love me either way," Jungkook muttered, peering down at your toes.

"Who said I didn't love you?" You fussed rhetorically. You thought you pointed out your feelings towards him well. "That has to be clear!"

"No, you are immune to my affection. What the fuck?"

“This is spicy.” Seokjin’s commentary was made aware when you leered at him.

“Can you leave us alone?” You yelled. It wasn’t even a question. He needed to leave now.

“Fine, I’ll be right outside by the door.” Seokjin huffed before exiting the broken door and frame. Though he closed it completely shut, the entire door fell, breaking into shattered chunks of wood and leaving the incubus to hear anything you both said. 

"No, I'm sorry! I do love you!" You confessed, taking his large hands into yours. “I’ve always loved you!”

“Finally, fuck!” Seokjin cheered.

Jungkook’s pupils dilated. His heart palpitated faster at your declaration. Was he dreaming? “Stop, no. Really?" You nodded, smiling at his disbelief. “B-but how? You're a demon! I'm a human!"

"So? I love beyond what I am." You simply shrugged before resting your chin on his pectorals, your neck extended to see his face. "I'm also not the first succubus to love a human. Why else did I keep coming back to you?"

"For sex? To help with your training?"

"Well, yes…” He did say something matter-of-factly, so you couldn’t help but agree. But it made him deflate, and you realize it right away. “But also I love being with you because I'm in love with you, Koo!" You tried mending the damage. “I think I can remember my horns twitching during sex. If you thought of something you may like or want on me, I can automatically change it! That only happens when a succubus is in love!” You started saying all kinds of things that were truthful and how much you loved him. “I love spending time with you, I love your kisses, I love your cuddles, I love when you get nasty, and you have very nice penmanship too!”

Your continuous list made his inside warm and flutter like butterflies. He loved every bit of it. He finally glowed brightly with that bunny smile you adored. 

He clutched an arm over your waist before bending you backward and dipping down. “I’m in love with you too." Your noses touched and your lips were only centimeters away. "You've changed me. I don't know if it's because of your powers, or your charm, or your fucking obsession with granola, but I can't think of and refuse to be with anyone else but you, my beloved angel."

“Then please love me, Jungkook?” You asked oh so sweetly and lovingly, curling your lips with the bats you were getting in your tummy.

“Baby, that shouldn’t even be a question. I’ll always love you.” He chuckled before meshing your lips perfectly together. A kiss that was filled with so much love and devotion, neither of you wanted to let go. You were both fucking dumbasses who were in love with each other but had miscommunication to thicken the damn plot.

Fuck you, writer.

Jungkook pecked little kisses on your lips, cheeks, and forehead, making you giggle. He then pulled back and placed you back on your feet. “But you must take responsibility for turning me into a loser who giggles at your short text messages."

"That I will!" You jumped and clapped, beginning to float into the air. Your wings and tail danced happily. “I’m glad to have had you as my first task!" You smooched Jungkook’s cheek, hugging his muscular form.

"You were bitching at me about him!" Seokjin came back into the room with his arms folded into his chest.

Not bothered by your mentor’s interruptions, you rolled your eyes and whined, ”That was beforehand! I didn't know him!"

"Yeah, whatever. So are you all good and together I assume?" Seokjin grinned with the “okay” sign before reaching Jungkook’s attention. "Don't worry, human. She was never my type—whiny and a pain in my gorgeous ass."

"Hey!" You fretted.

Jungkook focused on the sex demon. Maybe Seokjin wasn’t all bad. Though he did it in a fucked up way, the human comprehended how much Seokjin did care for you and he assumed himself too since your mentor helped your relationship finally blossom. He just didn’t like saying how much he cared outwardly. “We're good! Thank you, Seokjin. Sorry for punching you.”

“It’s fine. I felt like I was in a drama and I was the antagonist though I like to consider the anti-hero in this fanfic.” Seokjin glanced at the reader through the screen. You and Jungkook stared at one another, not sure what Seokjin peeked at. "Well, anyways, everything will be fine. I’ll send a positive report to the higher-ups. But Jungkook, you must be okay with helping ___ with her tasks. Some are more far-fetched than others."

"It should be fine with me. We've been experimenting plenty in our love life." He glimpsed at you rubbing your cheek onto his chest, even inhaling his musk. He kissed the top of your head with satisfaction.

Seokjin hummed in response, knowing what he would say may be bad news to the human “However, I did notice the uncompleted tasks that require a bit…more."

"Like what?"

"A threesome, and considering your jealous dick, you wouldn't like that." The incubus informed, making Jungkook’s smile fade.

You halted your cheek rubbing to stare at your official boyfriend miserable at the discovery. “Jungkook, please! I need this for my training." You begged, intertwining your hands together in front of you. "It won't mean anything, I swear!"

Though he understood it was part of your school, he was still wary. ”Does it have to be human?"

"Not necessarily. Just more of a being." Seokjin answered, watching the situation go slightly bad for the human. "But at least one of you has to be a human, which is you."

“Fine.” Jungkook sighed, pessimistically giving in. But your animated cheers put the grin back on him. “So I'm not letting any of my frat brothers near you like that. Do you have any potentials, my love?

"Hmmm, not really.” You replied, tippy-toeing to kiss his cheek. “Many demons try not to perform sexual activities with each other—wait! I do know one!"

"Who is it?" Your boyfriend cocked an eyebrow.

"He's a warlock from Wennale, the witch realm! He goes by Taehyung!"

"Ahh, yes. Taehyung! Gotta love him, so nice and real talker." Seokjin had a hand over his demon hard with the cheesiest yet wicked grin plastered over his beautiful damn face. "Saw him a few times with little one. Real deal if you ask me.“ He directed it towards Jungkook.

"I'm sorry, what?" Your boyfriend asked monotonously.

"It was nothing serious!” You waved it off. “He did take my virginity, what humans call it, and we did see each other a few more after it. He was sweet, called me pretty, gave me flowers, even tied me up and fu—“

"NOPE! I WILL NOT LET YOU NEAR THAT FUCKING GUY."

A/N: The end…for now. AHAHAHA JK PLS that’s it for the couple as an actual fic. Maybe Drabbles who knows. But thank you for reading <3 Also yes, they were talking to seokjin naked ;-;

All rights reserved for ©️ icedmatchatae 2022 (｡●́‿●̀｡)

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #matcha masterlist

[briarlovesclara]

The life series be like hi I'm cleo this is my son bdubs his ... someone etho, etho's friends impulse tango and skizz, and this is my other son scar. over there is his soulmate grian and his brothers joel and jimmy. remember tango from earlier? He's kinda jimmy's ex, but this guy scott is ACTUALLY his ex husband and is also my best friend. Scott’s friend martyn has an ex husband mumbo and an ex Someone ren, neither of them are here rn. Scott’s platonic ex pearl is here and we also used to be besties after my bestie bigb betrayed me. Yeah the bigb she's best friends with rn.

(hi! editor's note: this was made very early on in the ltlsmp, maybe 1 or 2 eps in. i plan to make a sequel to this at the end because things have changed a lot! a few rapid fire things:

grian and scar are now cousins and dont really interact outside of that so i probably won't mention the soulmate thing, or it will be more clearly marked as past-platonic

adding etho of course as a father which means we are no longer listing him as bdubs'... someone

im not going to include the lizzie/gem cameos so that won't confuse things with joel etc

+the flower husbands lore is stronger so i'll bring it back up. as well as the old married couple vibes from scott and martyn /p

ok thank you! sorry to all the ppl who reblogged who now have this on their blog)

#im sure i missed ppl pls add #trafficblr #traffic smps #ltlsmp #3rd life smp #llsmp #dlsmp #3lsmp #clockers #bad boys #flower husbands #too many. to add #team rancher #team ties #nosy neighbors

[lil-tachyon]

Hey logan, i'm trying to get into sci fi more, do you have any media, movies or otherwise you'd say it's a must watch for someone starting to get into it? Thanks

Super broad question! And precisely the thing I love to talk about. Although unfortunately I really don’t watch a lot of movies or TV so the best I can do for you is list some stuff I like and hope that you find something you enjoy. If we were talking sci-fi literature, that’s something I would probably write a full essay on- if anyone’s interested in reading my thoughts on that and getting my really long list of recommendations, just let me know. I might even do it on my own anyway, just for fun…

I guess if we’re going to talk about “must-watch” sci-fi movies then we have to talk about Star Wars first just to get it out of the way. I’ll keep it brief, far too much ink has been spilt regarding this franchise and you can find more in-depth opinions somewhere else. The original trilogy is great- there’s a reason it launched one of the biggest media franchises of the past 45 years. Endlessly rewatchable, somehow still looks better than basically any other big budget SFF popcorn movie and just plain fun. If you somehow haven’t seen the OT yet, get to it. 

You don’t really need to watch any other Star Wars stuff aside from the OT. The prequels aren’t exactly essential and they’re unquestionably worse in terms of dialog, acting, pacing (i.e. the nuts and bolts of storytelling.) If you’ve never watched Star Wars before you won’t have any nostalgia for them so you can skip them. Don’t even bother with the Disney sequels- pointless and incoherent. If you DO for some reason want more Star Wars in your life I can give you two recommendations: 

First is the masterpiece that is Genndy Tartakovsky’s (creator of Samurai Jack) Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) (no, not the CGI Clone Wars show you’re probably thinking of). Split into 25 episodes ranging in length from two to twelve minutes, the whole show is only about two hours long but boy is it sweet. There are no main characters and not much in the way of an overarching plot. Instead the show is composed of a series of rapid-fire vignettes that take place across the entire Star Wars galaxy and tell dozens of unique microstories. It’s pulpy and fun and never takes itself too seriously and the whole thing is on YouTube because for some reason Disney actually hates everything that made Star Wars good and hasn’t taken the time to copyright strike it.

Second recommendation is the Mandalorian. I didn’t believe it when people started raving about it, but it really is great and tells a poignant, self-contained, original story. It’s not perfect and it definitely suffers from the Disneywars curse of really obnoxious references to the OT, but it’s absolutely worth the watch.

Damn that’s so much more time than I wanted to spend on Star Wars. I always forget how much of a SW geek I am until I start talking about it…

Quick list of the other big “essentials” that I’ve seen and can recommend before I get into more personal stuff (in no particular order):

Alien (1979) - Weird and creepy and gross and with impeccable visual design in every single frame. I need to rewatch it, only seen it once.

Akira (1988) - Massive, groundbreaking, unsettling, beautiful. Brought cyberpunk into the visual realm, brought anime to the West in a whole new way. I could rewatch it a hundred times. 

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) - A foundational film that moves at a foreboding crawl and leaves you feeling unsafe and unsure of what you just watched. (Also my dad’s band referenced the monkey scene in their big-label debut music video, so that should be reason enough to watch it)

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) - UFOs, the American West, and the most 70s-looking cast imaginable. It feels more a product of its time than most of the others on this list, but I love it for that and it does nothing to make it any less impactful or engrossing.

The Terminator (1984) and Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991) - I waited waaaaaay too long to watch these. I only got around to seeing them this past year in fact. I had always just written them off in my head as nothing more than cheesy 80s action flicks but my God are they good and so much different from what I expected. The first one is basically a sci-fi slasher film and the second is probably the best sequel film I’ve ever seen and takes everything in a totally different direction that still manages to build on all the groundwork laid by the first. Please watch, don’t be like me and wait until you’re twenty-six. 

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984) - My favorite Ghibli movie. For being a film about people flying airships and fighting bugs in a giant toxic jungle, it really has a lot of important stuff to say and says it very well.

Castle in the Sky (1988) - Hits a lot of the same plot beats as Nausicaä and, imo, suffers a little bit in comparison but still a great anime sci-fantasy romp. 

The Thing (1982) - Disgusting sci-fi horror in the glacial Antarctic wastes

The Twilight Zone (1959-1964) - The first, the best. Sure, it’s inconsistent in terms of quality, but it’s at least consistently weird and inventive and the good episodes are really damn good. Also something I love about it is the acting- it’s very over-the-top expressive and exaggerated. Feels more like it’s meant for the stage than for the small screen. You don’t see a lot of TV like that these days. 

The X-Files (1993-2002, 2016-2018) - Absolutely in my top 5 TV shows. It was great to watch as a 14-year-old because I was still young enough to find it scary, and it’s great on every re-watch because I can really appreciate how much chemistry Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny have and how fun, goofy, and overall weird it is. As I recall it starts to decline noticeably in season 8. Season 9 you’ll have to grit your teeth to get through. The 2016-2018 revival is half composed of unwatcheable “storyline” episodes and half surprisingly good-to-great “monster of the week” episodes.

Cowboy Bebop (1998-1999) - My number one favorite anime, I love everything about it. So much effort goes into small background details and characters that only appear for a few seconds and it really goes a long way to making the whole universe of the show feel so real that you could see yourself living in it. Also the soundtrack is top-notch, I listen to it regularly. 

Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995-1996) and End of Evangelion (1997) - Another one that I took too long to get to and to be honest I probably would’ve been more into it had I watched it when I was younger, but it’s still great and I recommend it. Features a classic “inflation suit” episode

Stuff that’s less “essential” but I really like it:

Planetes (2003-2004) - My second favorite anime. Starts off as a workplace slice-of-life and slowly builds into a really, really emotional conclusion. Can’t recommend it enough.

Forbidden Planet (1956) - A sci-fi adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Tempest (I’m an illiterate piece of shit so I can’t tell you how good an adaptation it is). It’s slow-paced and eerie, and way more atmospheric than its decidedly 1950s visuals would lead you to believe.

Digimon: The Movie (2000) / Summer Wars (2009) - A short story: as a kid I probably watched the Digmon Movie about a million times. It was huge with kids my age and was probably an entire generation’s first introduction to ska-punk. It’s a great movie. Anyway, fast forward about a decade and a half and at some point I sit down to watch Summer Wars with my brother on no other information than that we heard it’s good. And it is! But pretty soon into the movie we both notice something odd- it seems to feature almost the exact same plot as the Digmon Movie. After a bit of digging we find out that they were both directed by the same guy and it seems he just had this idea in his head for a story that he really wanted to make for over a decade because Summer Wars is basically a more mature and less merchandisable remake. Watch them both!

Samurai Jack (2001-2004, 2017) - the first cartoon I saw as a kid that really made me say “finally, something for me!” I wouldn’t get another TV show aimed at me that was “cool” and “epic” and “badass” until ATLA came out. Nothing beats watching a samurai fight a million robots and bounty-hunters on an endless quest to go back to the past. Also the season 5 revival is great and I genuinely don’t get why a lot of people seemed to really hate on it. 

Moon (2009) - It’s been a LONG time since I watched it, but I liked it quite a bit. A lonely lunar miner runs into what seems to be his double and things get spooky…

Prospect (2018) - More space miners running into trouble! Really great costume and prop design on a super small budget (but you wouldn’t know it from how good it looks). 

Mobile Suit Gundam 0080: War in the Pocket (1989) - Listen- I’m not a gundam guy. I don’t care about all the different robots and I’m not about to watch 40 years of TV to try and figure out the story. Which is why War in the Pocket is great because it’s six episodes long and it just tells a really touching story punctuated by cool robot battles and you don’t need to know anything about Gundam to enjoy it.

Royal Space Force: The Wings of Honnêamise (1987) - A story about a space race set on an alternate world. What really sets it apart is the visual design- every detail from books, to currency, to texts to vehicles, to architecture is unique enough to feel totally alien but also grounded enough to somehow feel familiar. It’s quite an achievement. Trigger Warning: there’s a very uncomfortable rape scene in the middle of the film that seems to come out of nowhere. I’m still not sure why they chose to include it.

Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade (1999) - Military police get up to some real nasty stuff in alternate history fashy 1950s Japan. Very depressing, all my friends complained to me about how sad it was even though they went into it knowing what it was about and agreeing to watch it with me. You just can’t win sometimes!

That’s about all I have for now. I know it’s all kind of basic bitch stuff but like I said, I don’t often watch movies/TV. Hope it helps and thanks for the great question!

#sci fi #send me an ask! #long post

[lesser-mook]

Dune: Part Two - Some of the best pieces of Anti-Christ Propaganda I've ever seen. And by itself? A well produced, well made film. Though it is heavy-handed aka long as shit (Movie Recommendation )

Holy Wars, Chosen One rising from the Desert, Third Eye's and shit, Free people/"Fremen" fighting for their desert land, Fall of The House of Atreidas/Collapse of Empires *cough America cough cough*, seeing timelines, Nukes n shit.

The powers that be really, REALLY want nuclear war. If it ain’t a Civil War, us killing each other, they want nukes flying. 

The Eternal's had good cinematography, so did The Ritual but those can't even touch this.

This movie, in IMAX? Was/IS a must see experience, religious experience even. If you haven't seen it in IMAX, Do it. Please. Don’t miss out.

But outside the realm of conspiracy, they're just well made movies on their own. The sequel had way better pacing, Part 1 was just 2 hour setup and it was worth it. So so worth it.

This movie is 2 films in one package, if you paid to see this? You're not wasting your money if you went to see this experience.

My biggest complaint besides the hefty runtime, expansive lore being somewhat crammed & rapid fired at the audience (hence a LOT of exposition), would be the fact that we never get to see exactly how the worm riders dismount or how a caravan riding the worms back- then get OFF the worm in the first place.

Jessica was pregnant, how did she get on the worm?! And how did they get her off the worm? 

See we’re shown how dangerous it is to get on a worm, every step involves mounting it while it’s in motion, it doesn’t stop to let you onboard. So how they transport crowds looks cool, but it in the movie specifically (fuck the books) the movie didn’t show that detail. 

Now, let’s put credit where it’s due: These two movies by themselves are a serious feat, especially in this nauseating cinematic universe era of film-making.

This isn’t Star Wars, this isn’t Marvel or DC. 

This is custom lore from a lesser known title, and a sequel with the magnitude of Avengers Infinity War in just 2 movies, coming off of one film with 2 hours of setup (which is basically what Part One was). All in just 4 years, not enough people are addressing how impressive that these two movies exist & executed in the way they were.

This isn’t DUNE II, but “Part Two”. The same narrative, same story, effortless momentum. Way better filmmaking than Endgame, better story, and better music (Hans Zimmer annihilated this OST, as usual).

This easily could’ve been a storytelling disaster, a contrived, over-ambitious mess with yet another messy Messiah overtone that falls on it's face, but it did well.

And while Paul isn't the most engaging main character (he has some gary stu-ish traits, which was ironically written to be part of the narrative) but he is no boyscout.

He cries, he will train, he is taught, he outbursts, he gets emotional, and when he's serious, it's serious. Not perfect, and is a man of vengeance, not Talk no Jutsu, not punching away the darkness of someone's heart to free their inner child or some bullshit:

Paul is here to handle business. Period. And you slowly see him developing emotional calluses to the point where you see him becoming something else entirely.

And that's ALL imma say, for now. Go watch the movie.

It could've been mess, but it works.

It ain’t no masterpiece, don’t mistake my compliments for hype, the movies are not perfect- but I didn’t expect this to impress, at all.

The music is just the movie's voice. The DNA.

Hans Zimmer's vision for music, coding the DNA for all the films he composes for is: Otherwordly.

Especially post- 2010, it’s like composing Interstellar was a period of transcendence for him.

Ever since that movie, his style entered a whole new realm, it’s almost intimidating how good he is.

Woke culture be damned, Films like this (while propaganda) still demonstrates in a good way, exactly what Hollywood's true potential is capable of.

#lisan al gaib #dune #dune part two #coming of the prince #keep your eyes on israel #propaganda #good filmmaking #movie recommendation #anti christ #Youtube #lessermook #the one

[tropes-and-tales]

In It Together

Characters:  Benny “Borracho” Magalon and F!Reader

WC:  11,307

Other Pieces:  There’s a fluffy, unofficial sequel here.

CW:  HEED THESE WARNINGS.  DEAD DOVE AND SUCH.  Contains controversial material:  frank talk about abortion; dub-con (in the form of mutually drunken hook-ups); angst; smut (oral, f!receiving; PiV, protected).  18+ only.  DO NOT READ IF ABORTION UPSETS YOU.  IF YOU COME TO MY INBOX TO COMPLAIN, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

AN:  This was a very specific request from a dear friend who I met on this hell site of a platform.  You know who you are, bebe.  💕

It’s not a position Benny Magalon ever wanted to find himself in:  sitting in a café across from you, getting less than ideal news.

You can barely look him in the eye when you say it.  You look lower, your eyes fixed somewhere near his chin when you tell him that you’re pregnant.

It’s not ideal at all.  Benny knows next to nothing about you—only your first name.  It was a drunken hookup, two strangers meeting at a bar a little over a month ago.  When you called him yesterday, he hadn’t recognized the number and had let it go straight to voicemail.  

When he heard the message you left, he had wracked his brain to remember the details, though they were hazy and soaked in booze:  flirting with you at the bar, challenging each other over shots.  Getting a car together, getting handsy in the car.  Taking you home to his apartment, recently vacated by his now-ex.  He only remembers flashes after that—sordid little scenes—and then the awkward morning-after.  He had given you his number with the idle thought the he had fun and you might call him, but you hadn’t…. until now.

Now, sober and in the cold light of day, he studies you closer.  It wasn’t just the alcohol that night—you are cute, he thinks, even as nervous as you are.  Your leg bounces rapid-fire under the table, making it shake, and he can see how tightly you grip your coffee mug.

He knows how it feels.  The moment your words sink in, his stomach does a terrific flip, and he worries he might throw up.  A million thoughts flood into his head:  custody and child support and fuck, he’ll have to tell his family…

He got a one-night stand pregnant.  It’s less than ideal.  

“I have to ask,” he finally says after he turns the situation over in his head for a moment.  “Are you sure it’s mine?”

You wince, then nod.  “It’s yours.  My ex and I broke up six months ago, and you were the first…”  You trail off, and he can see how hard you swallow.

“Sorry.”

You shake your head.  “No, it was a fair question.”

“It’s just…I know we were both…”  He trails off too, loses his words.  “I remember using protection.”  That’s one of the flashes he has from that night—reaching into his nightstand, snagging a condom.  He remembers it distinctly because he banged his elbow against the headboard, hit the nerve there, had a purpled bruise for days…

“I know.  I don’t know what went wrong.  I thought I should let you know, since the condom obviously failed.  I wanted to let you know.  I am getting an STD screening and you should too.”

He nods.  He’s touched at your thoughtfulness.  You could have never contacted him.

“I’m clean, but I’ll get a test too,” he murmurs.

“Well, I’m clean.  I just didn’t know…we’re unknown to each other, really.  You have no reason to trust me, so I thought it was best to reach out.”  You shake your head as if you’re trying to clear your mind.  “I’m sorry.” You drop your head and stare into your coffee cup, and Benny can see the unhappy frown on your face.  When he looks closer, he can see that your eyes are slightly swollen, like you had cried before you came to meet him.  He feels a wave of something for you.  Pity.  Sympathy.  Something.

“Don’t apologize.”  He reaches across the table, lays his hand palm up.  He leaves it there, and after a moment, you put your own hand in his.  He squeezes you gently, hopes it feels reassuring.  It occurs to him that you must be a brave person, to handle this as you are.  To have the courage to call him.  To sit down with him and deliver this news.

“This is on both of us,” he adds.  He squeezes your hand again, and that’s what finally makes you look him in the eyes.  You raise your head and study him solemnly, then offer him a tremulous smile.

“Thank you, Ben.”

He releases your hand, and he swipes it against the side of his thigh.  His hands are clammy with sweat, he realizes.  

“What do you want to do?” he asks.

You drop your eyes again, and you take a deep breath.  “I looked at it from every angle, and I just don’t see how I can keep it.”  You glance at him, probably to see how your admission lands with him.  Benny Magalon has a great poker face, and he only nods at you, encouraging you to continue.

“I mean, I live in a one-bedroom apartment I can barely afford.  I have school loans.  I just got my dream job two months ago….”  You trail off again, and it sparks against Benny’s memory.  He had been out that night on the rebound, only recently broken up from his long-time girlfriend.  And you…yes, he remembers.  You had been out celebrating a new job at the Jet Propulsion Lab.  That had been his in with you, teasing you, pretending to argue that the moon landing had been faked.

“I want kids one day, I think,” you continue.  “But I can’t make it work now, especially as a single mother.”  You glance at him again, a guilty expression on your face.  “I was raised by a single mom, Ben.  I know how hard it is.”

He nods again.  He knows his neutral face isn’t giving him away, but more than anything, he feels relief.  A big wave of relief washing over him, calming his churning stomach.  

He chooses his next words carefully.  He doesn’t want to say a single thing wrong, pressure you one way or the other.

“I’m in this for whatever you choose.  If you wanted to keep it, I’d step up however much you want.  But if you don’t want to keep it, I support that too.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure.”

-----

The two of you part amicably, and Benny’s head spins with a thousand thoughts.  A thousand feelings.  He feels guilty at the situation he’s put you in, because his working theory—which proves out, once he gets home—is that the condoms he used were expired.  A stupid fucking mistake.  His ex had been on the pill, and he hadn’t thought to check the expiration date, and now you are pregnant and facing down your own guilt and angst.

He also feels that relief.  He doesn’t know you at all, and you don’t know him.  Maybe it could have worked, raising a kid with a stranger, coming up with some manageable co-parenting plan.  Maybe it would have been hell, being chained to another person for eighteen years or more.  He knows that he’s cynical from his recent breakup—three years gone, and if he couldn’t make that work, how could he launch himself straight into fatherhood with a one-night stand?

It’s not the last he’ll hear from you:  you’ve promised to let him know when you make the appointment, and he’s promised to pay for the procedure.  

You call him two days later, and it makes him chuckle, the polite way you speak when he answers his phone.  The way you say your full name, as if he has multiple women he’s impregnated that he’s currently juggling.

“I have an appointment for next week,” you tell him.  “But I have to choose if I want a medical abortion or a surgical.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Well, the medical is cheaper—”

He cuts you off.  “Don’t worry about the cost.  Pick whichever is better for you.”

There’s a long stretch of silence over the phone—so long that he pulls the phone away to look at the screen, thinking the call dropped.  Then he hears it.  Quiet sniffling.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks.

Another sniffle, then a watery laugh.  “Nothing.  It’s just hormones, probably, but you’re being really nice about all of this.  I didn’t think you would be.”

He chuckles at your admission.  “Why’s that?”

“Well, not you specifically.  Just…people in general, you know?  People can be disappointing so much that when they aren’t, it’s…surprising.”

Benny knows exactly what you mean.  He sees how disappointing people are all the time.  In his job, in his personal life.  People let you down.  It gives him the barest bit of satisfaction that he’s not completely disappointing, at least in this situation.

*****

The plan had been for a friend to drive you to your appointment, but the ride falls through at the last minute.  Because you’ve opted for the surgical option, you aren’t allowed to drive yourself….

You grit your teeth and sigh.  You swallow down the remaining crumbs of your pride.  You call Ben.

The goddamned man doesn’t even let you get the entire sentence out.  He cuts you off, asks for your address.  Tells you that he’s leaving work immediately.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.  You swallow hard against the lump in your throat.  You hate the entire situation:  hate that it happened at all, hate that you had to drag this one-night stand into it.  You had struggled with the decision to call him, after all.  It wasn’t his business, really, but since the condom had obviously failed, it had felt important to let him know.  

Though, to be fair, Ben Magalon is proving to be more than a one-night stand.  You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he is supportive.  More than you ever thought a random cop hookup could be.

He chuckles over the line.  “You don’t know my boss.  It’s fine.”

Forty minutes later, he’s at your door.  

There’s no reason for him to help you.  He’s already given you the money for the procedure, so he could easily tell you to deal with it yourself…but he doesn’t.  Your goddamned one-night stand, the darkly handsome cop that you never thought you’d have to see again—he turns up just when you need him like some fucking knight in shining armor.

-----

The nice thing about L.A. is that it’s liberal.  There’s no one outside of the clinic other than an employee in scrubs taking a smoke break.  No raging protestors, no gory placards trying to guilt you into a different decision than the one you’ve already made.

Inside, the people are kind.  No nonsense, quick and efficient.  But above all kind.  Reassuring.

Ben has to stay in the waiting room, and he gives you a nod and a reassuring smile as you’re led back to the restricted area.  You glance over your shoulder as the door shuts behind you, and you catch a glimpse of him settling into a chair as he pokes through a pile of magazines.

Not for the first time, but it strikes you how lucky you are in such an unlucky situation.  It had felt like the right thing to do, telling him, but you never thought he’d be so supportive.  So reassuring, and not a single ounce of friction.  He accepted your decision without second-guessing you.  He paid for it without you asking.  He left work to be your ride.

It made you sad, in a strange way.  You had enjoyed your night with him, but even drunk, you had noticed his strange apartment.  How pieces of furniture seemed to be missing, how his closet door had been open to reveal one empty side.  Early in the evening he had mentioned an ex with a frown, and it was clear then that he’d been rebounding.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t thought to call him afterwards, until you had to.  If he hadn’t been so fresh off of a breakup, you might have tried to nurture it into something more.  Maybe.  Maybe you would have dropped him a flirty text or even called, if you had summoned up the courage.

But it was all maybes.  Just theoretical stuff, because this is the reality:  him sitting in the waiting room of the women’s clinic, waiting for you.  The two of you only together because of a sad accident.

*****

It takes almost no time at all, which surprises Benny.  Less than an hour, all told, and then you’re walking out of the clinic with him, a small bag of pain killers and antibiotics clutched in your hand.

“How are you feeling?” he asks once the two of you are back in his truck.  He glances over, and maybe part of him is afraid that you’ll be filled with regret.  That you’ll burst into tears and tell him that you’ve made a terrible mistake.  But the look on your face, if he has to classify it, seems to be relief.  The frown on your face, the worried look in your eyes is gone.  The relief is almost palpable.

“Honestly?  Not nearly as bad as I thought.”  You patted the bag of medication in your lap.  “They gave me a Valium, and I’m a lightweight.”

Benny bites the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling.  You are a lightweight.  He knows that much about you.  That night, he had beaten you easily in the dumb shots contest the two of you had devised.  The thought occurs to him then, and his held-back smile fades into a frown.

He clears his throat as he merges onto the highway.  “Hey, that night…”  He glances over at you again, sees you looking back at him.  “We were pretty fucked up.  I didn’t…force anything, did I?”

He can see you shaking your head out of the corner of his eye.  “I guess there’s an argument about consent and impairment, but we were both drunk.  If you took advantage of me, then I took advantage of you.”

“I guess.”

“I’m good, Ben.  No worries.”

-----

At your apartment, he helps you inside.  It’s awkward.  He’s not exactly a master of social situations, but he’s usually fairly confident.  He usually moves through the world with a level of calm competence that translates to assurance.  There’s no playbook for this, though, and he stands awkwardly by your door until you wave him in.  You walk into your kitchen and he follows a few steps behind, twirling his keys nervously.

You turn away from him, and you take the pill bottles out of the little bag the clinic gave you.  He watches as you read the labels, and he hears you mumble to yourself about timing the doses for every twelve hours.

“Is there anything I can get you?” he asks.  “Anything I can do?”

“You’ve already done so much.  More than you needed to.”

“Told you we were in this together.”

You turn to face him, and he can see the tears that spring to your eyes.  He’s struck again at how brave you are.  How brave you were to call him in the first place, even if it was probably incredibly difficult.  He was a stranger to you, after all.  He can easily imagine a different sort of man having a very different reaction.

“I don’t know if you’ll ever know how much this all means, Ben,” you tell him, and your voice is shaky with emotion.  “You don’t know me at all, and you’ve been so nice…”  Then you start to cry in earnest, though you try to hold it in, great gulping hiccups as you try to rein in your tears.

The guilt hits him again, so he reaches out carefully.  Opens his arms for a hug, and after a beat, you step up to him.  It’s an awkward hug at first, the two of you stiff and unsure against each other.  He holds you lightly, gently.  He’s unsure of any pain you’re in, but he rubs your back carefully.  Tries to comfort you, and in doing so, tries to alleviate some of his own guilt.

“It was my fault,” he murmurs against your head.  “The condoms were expired.  If I hadn’t been so fucking stupid, it would have never happened.”

He doesn’t know you, and part of him expects you to react in anger at his admission.  You don’t, though.  You squeeze him around his middle, and you echo back his own words, that the two of you were in it together.

Somehow, it makes him feel better.  He hopes it makes you feel better too.

-----

When he leaves twenty minutes later, Benny thinks it’s the last time he’ll see you.  He assumes he’ll never speak to you again.  But the guilt still gnaws at him, and two blocks away, he pulls over.  He pulls up an app on his phone and orders you some take-out, has it delivered to your apartment.

It’s not nearly enough, but it’s something.  It’s another thing he can do for you, because everything else—paying for the procedure, driving you there and back—feels paltry, despite what you say.  You’re the one going through it.  He’s just the supporting cast.

After he orders the food—he has to guess at what you might like—he pulls up your number.

Ordered you some food, he texts you.  You should take the antibiotics with food.

The three little dots appear and disappear as you type and delete and type your reply again.  He can picture you tearing up again, and it makes him a little sick, how grateful you are for him.  He did next to nothing, and anything he did was the bare minimum, but apparently you have low expectations for people.

I owe you, you finally type back.  If you ever have a medical emergency, just call me.

Benny shakes his head.  As if you owe him.  He writes back, telling you to rest and to let him know if you need anything at all, and he thinks that’ll be the end of it.

-----

It isn’t the end of it, though.  Over the next few days, then weeks, Benny can’t get the entire sad event out of his head.

He checks on you, as much as he dares.  He had read up on abortions from neutral, science-based sources, but he still has all the stigmas in his head.  That you’re in terrible physical pain.  That you’re wracked with guilt.  That you’re destined for a life of regret and deep depression now.

How are you feeling? He texts you a couple of days afterwards, and you respond after a few moments.

Better!  I’m working from home, so I’m resting too.

He waits another week, then asks the same question.

Back to normal, you reply that time.  I went for a hike at Griffith Park the other day.

Because he’s LACSD and because he has a burgeoning sense of protectiveness over you, he texts you an entire litany full of safety tips.  They had a case in Griffith Park not that long ago, a string of attacks on lone joggers or hikers, and he lets you know all about it.  He tells you to only go there with a friend.  He sends you a link for jogger’s mace—technically illegal, but better to ask for forgiveness after using it than risk an attack turning worse.

Yes, officer, you text back.  

I’m a detective, actually.

Yes, detective, you reply.  I promise to be extra careful in my solo midnight runs through Griffith Park with my headphones on.

Smartass, he types back, but he smiles at it anyway.

*****

It becomes a thing.  It shouldn’t become a thing:  media had led you to believe that the two of you should have never spoken again, the weight of the abortion a heavy, impenetrable wall between you.  That if you ever saw him again, that the two of you should have shared a look of mutual sorrow and then gone your separate ways to nurse your unending guilt separately.

Yet here you are.  The two of you text back and forth.  It starts with his obsessive concern right after the procedure, which warmed your heart.  Then it morphed into small talk.  Then it turned into little jokes here and there, until you and Benny Magalon are texting each other regularly.

It shouldn’t become a thing, but it does.  

It should also be stranger than it feels.  If you lay out the situation like one of your work problems, it makes no sense on paper.  One-night stand, drunken.  Unplanned pregnancy.  An abortion.  Now the two of you texting, getting to know each other after going through a challenging moment together.

Maybe that’s why, despite it not making sense on paper, it still manages to make sense.  Because you went through it together.  Because you decided to let him know about the pregnancy.  Because he’s just…him.  Benny Magalon, you are finding, is a stand-up sort of guy.  Supportive to a fault.  Not just supporting you with the abortion, but checking on you afterwards.  Fussing over your safety.  Giving you details about crimes that surely must be embellished to scare you into living in a bubble.

It’s not a love story, but it’s a friendship, if an unlikely one.  You smile when you get a message from him, and sometimes when you’re doing something fun, you think of mentioning it to him.  

It’s not a love story, but sometimes you wonder how things could have gone differently.  Maybe it could have been a love story.  Maybe if you’d met him after he had more distance from his break-up.  Maybe if the condom hadn’t failed.  A million maybes, and it drives you a little crazy to think of them, but exploring every possibility is part of your job so it’s second nature.

-----

It moves from just texting when he calls you one evening.

It’s his phone, but it’s not him on the other end.  When you pick up, a deeper voice asks if you know Benny Magalon.

“I do,” you say carefully.

The deeper voice introduces itself as a Detective Connors.  He tells you that he is calling from Ben’s phone.  There’s been an accident.

“His emergency contact was deleted a few months ago,” Connors tells you.  “So we went through his phone and called you.”

You don’t question it, not in that moment.  You only hear that Ben—the guy who supported you so selflessly in your hour of need—has been hurt.  That he needs you now.

“Tell me where you are, and I’ll get there as soon as I can,” you tell him.

*****

In terms of injuries in the line of police work, getting hit by a car while running a traffic checkpoint is the least glamorous.  

Benny never even saw it coming, which is probably what ends up saving his life.  If he had seen the car barreling towards him, he would have tensed up, tried to get out of the way.  As it is, the car hit him from behind, and his body went limp as a ragdoll.  Flew through the air, landed hard on the scrub-grass median.

It’s not nearly as bad as it could have been.  It’s not a career-ending incident.  When he comes to in the hospital room, the doctor gives him the rundown of his injuries:  a broken arm and two cracked ribs.  A long, ugly scrape down his side.  A concussion.  Cuts on his face.

At least they’ve given him the good drugs.  Whatever is in the line in his arm, it makes him feel like he’s floating a few inches off of the bed, despite how warm and heavy he feels.  Everything feels soft and rounded off:  the hospital noise is fuzzy and faraway; the lights are faint and haloed.  

He blinks and realizes that he’s nodded off.  When he opens his eyes again, the guys are there:  Henderson and Z and Connors perched in chairs around the room, Big Nick standing in the doorway, ogling the nurses as they walk past.

“There he is,” Connors says.

“Borracho,” Henderson adds with a smile and a shake of his head.  “Nine fucking lives, man.  Gotta start calling you el gato instead.”

Connors reaches out, grips Benny’s ankle through the sheets.  “You flew through the air like fucking Superman, dude.  Thought for sure you were a goner.”

“Wha’ happened?” Benny manages ask, his words slurred, his tongue thick from the drugs in him.  

The guys tell him, and even though they joke, Benny can hear the tremor of real fear in their voices.  The guys’ relief is unmistakable, even through the haze of morphine.

“We called your girl,” Henderson says, and Benny is too high to really question who he means.  His girl.  The words roll through his head, and it takes a long beat before he asks, “wha’ girl?”

“The one you’re always texting.  Your phone’s screen is cracked, but we were able to pull her number.”

Another long beat to piece together who they mean.  His ex used to be his emergency contact, but he removed her months ago.  Didn’t bother to replace her.  He could have listed his sisters, but they’re terrible in an emergency.  His parents moved to Arizona a few years back.  There wasn’t really anyone else for him to list in a true emergency.

Henderson must mean you.

The drugs loosen his tongue, and Benny almost spills the entire sad history with you to the guys.  Almost says that you’re not his girl, but the drugs also make him tired.  He opens his mouth to argue that they shouldn’t have bothered you, but he blinks again and falls asleep.

-----

When he wakes up later, you are there.  And maybe it’s the drugs or the brush with death, but damned if he isn’t happy to see you.  You are sitting in the chair next to the bed, and you give him a smile when he sees you and focuses on you.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

He holds up his good hand and tries to tilt the palm back and forth, the see-saw motion that means, “okay.”  Instead, his hand seems to float on its own accord, and your smile widens.

“They got you on the good stuff, huh?”

“Yeah,” he tries to say, but his tongue still feels thick and unwieldy.  It comes out yuh, and you reach out to pat his good hand.

He concentrates on his words.  “Sorry,” he manages to get out.  “Guys shouldn’t a’ called you.  Bothered you.”

You frown at him.  “Ben, after all we’ve been through?  It’s not a bother at all.”

“You got better things t’do.”

You reach out and pat his hand again.  “I actually don’t.  A very worried detective put an end to my midnight runs through Griffith Park, so now I don’t do anything ever.”

The joke makes a warmth wash through him, on top of the morphine-warmth.  He can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face.  

“You’re a smartass,” he slurs, but when you go to pat his hand again, he manages to twist his own and capture your hand.  Holds it clumsily, but you don’t let him go, and that’s how he nods off again.

*****

There’s a part of you that would readily admit that this is payback.  That you are paying Ben back for his support from months ago.  That you owe him, and now you are settling your debt.

There’s another part of you that would less than readily admit that there’s more to it.  Despite your unlikely origins, you like the man, enjoy texting him.  That when you see him looking like absolute road-kill in the hospital bed, your heart lurches in a way you hadn’t expected.

You learn why his coworkers called you.  The one detective who called you, Connors…he pulls you aside in the hallway and explains that they knew about you, kinda.  That Borracho—that’s his nickname, apparently—had been caught multiple times texting you and smiling.

“It was weird,” Connors tells you as he hands you a cup of coffee from the vending machine.  “Dude never smiles like that.”

You scoff at him.  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

The guy shakes his head and takes a sip of his own coffee.  “Well, he hasn’t smiled like that in a while.  We guessed he found a new girl after his old one destroyed him.”

You wonder what that means—destroyed is such a specific, strong word—but you are cagey in your response.

“Well, we’ve been taking it slow.”  Not a lie, exactly.  Not the truth either.

Connors claps you on the back.  “He’s a good guy.  And it’s good of you to come see him.”

-----

You don’t just see Ben, though.  It isn’t a one-and-done visit.  His coworkers—more like meddlesome brothers, really—pull you right into their orbit and you find yourself powerless to escape.  Not that you want to.

They think you’re his girlfriend, so they treat you in a way that’s both deferential and familiar.  When you come back to the room, they offer you the seat closest to the hospital bed where Ben is drifting in and out of consciousness.  When they order food to smuggle in, they ask what you want before deciding where to order from.

But they are cops through and through.  They are also pumping you for intel on yourself, on Ben, on your alleged relationship with him.

What can you tell them?  You tell the truth where you can; you keep your lies as close to the truth as possible.  Yes, you met Ben at a bar.  Yes, you’re keeping it casual.  Yes, he’s a good guy.  A great guy, in fact.

The man himself comes and goes.  Sometimes you glance over at him and see his lax face, and you realize how much younger he looks when he’s asleep.  All the worry lines smooth out and he’s left looking almost boyish, save for the bit of silver in his beard and hair.

Other times you look at him and are startled to see him looking back at you.  He’s got a dopey look on his face, his eyes glassy with the good drugs, and a very quiet part of you wishes things had gone differently.  That maybe he would have looked all love-sick and goofy at you without the benefit of strong opiates.

When you go to leave, Ben is asleep.  It spares you an awkward goodbye, the need to act like a couple for the benefit of the other guys.  You do kiss your fingertips and press them gently to his forehead, light enough to not wake him.

*****

Benny doesn’t want to call you, but his ride falls through.  It occurs to him as he’s calling you, though, that it’s a strange bit of symmetry to months ago, when you needed a ride from him.

Henderson was supposed to take him home from the hospital.  Something comes up last minute at work, and since they are short-handed from Benny being out, he finds himself without a ride.

He could call a sister.  He has three of them.  He could even call one of the cousins that lives in L.A.  But he’s weirdly secretive about injuries incurred at work—his parents had been against him going into law enforcement, so he avoids bringing up the bad parts of it…like getting hit by a car at a traffic checkpoint.  He hates having to hear the usual I told you so from his mom.  And he hates how they all descend on him when he’s sick or injured, his mom and sisters, how it turns cloying and claustrophobic within a day.

In reality, he probably has an entire list of people he could call for a ride.  His mind settles on you:  you’ve kept in touch over the past few days, texting him and even calling to see how he is.  He knows you’re just paying him back from before, but he’s too tired and in too much pain to do anything other than embrace the warm flush he gets every time he hears his phone ping.

When you pick up the phone, he explains the situation, and he also walks it back a little.  Says not to worry if it’s a problem, he can always find someone else—

“Not a problem at all,” you reply.  “I have a light workday today.  We’re just cleaning up the soundstage where we filmed the fake moon landing.  I can dip out early.”

He laughs and then bites back a groan, his ribs hurting from the effort.  “Smartass,” he grumbles after a beat.  “And don’t make me laugh.”

You laugh too, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s heard your real laugh.  It’s a nice sound.  It makes him smile to hear it.

“Give me forty minutes, and I’ll be there.”

-----

You don’t just dump him off at his apartment, and really, Benny didn’t expect you to.  He’s gotten to know you better—from the little texts, before, and now with the fallout from his accident—and he’s found that you’re a decent person.  Which maybe sounds like nothing special, but he learned long ago that truly decent people were rarer than one would expect.

You pick him up from the hospital.  You take him to his apartment.  You help him inside, hovering right at his elbow.  Not touching him, but lurking nearby in case he needs help.

You help him get comfortable on his couch.  You remember enough of the layout of his place from that night together, and you disappear into his bedroom.  You bring out pillows, a blanket.  You help him settle on the couch, prop up his broken arm.  You disappear into the kitchen and get him a glass of water, and you hand him the remote to the TV.

“I’m going to take your keys,” you tell him, all business.  “I’m going to get your prescriptions filled and then get you some food.”  You give him a disapproving frown and add, “I snooped in your fridge, Ben.  You’re literally a stereotype.”

“What do you mean?”

“You only have a jar of salsa and old Chinese leftovers.”

You aren’t wrong—he rarely bothers to cook for just himself—but he waves you off.  

“You don’t have to—” he starts to say, but you interrupt him.

“I’m going to, so just deal with it.”  You stare him down, and Benny realizes that you’ve got a steely core to you that is intractable.  When he doesn’t challenge you further, you nod in satisfaction and ask what he might want for dinner.

-----

He on a leave of absence for two months, but his first few weeks home are handled by you.

It should feel strange.  Should feel like a fever dream, being taken care of by the one-night stand he accidentally knocked up.  He realizes only a few days in that he’s stopped thinking about you in those terms.  

He thinks of you now as a friend.

He doesn’t know how you feel about him, but at the moment, you treat him like a project.  Or maybe you’re treating him like a problem to solve:  you come over every evening after work, and you spend the bulk of the weekends with him.  One morning, when you’re at work and he’s poking around in his fully-stocked fridge, he finds a list in your neat printing on the counter.  It says:

Medication schedule

Meal planning

Laundry

Plant

It’s all the shit you’re doing for him.  Unasked.  When he tries to wave you off, or tell you that you don’t have to, you wave him off in return and say that you want to.

The bullet point of plant makes him wonder, but that is answered that very evening:  you turn up at his door with a bag of groceries in one hand, a potted plant in the other.

“Thought it would cheer the place up,” you tell him simply, and you plunk it down on his kitchen table.

-----

The first few days, it’s just Benny drifting in and out of sleep while you tidy up and make him dinner.  You dole out his pills—the antibiotics, the pain pills.  You adjust his pillows.  You sit and watch TV with him, and you chat a little.

He heals.  The splitting headaches fade to dull aching, then disappear.  His ribs ache less and less.

You help him clean the ugly scrape along his side.  It’s on the same side as his broken arm, and he can’t quite twist his good arm to clean himself without hurting his ribs.  

That should feel strange too—the two of you in his bathroom, him shirtless and you bent over his side, swabbing at his cuts and monitoring him for signs of infection.  You have gentle hands, a light touch.  When you press your head close to his shoulder to put fresh bandages there, he can just catch a hint of your shampoo, the clean herbal smell that he remembers from that night months ago.

----

After those first few days, as he heals and as he steps down from his pain pill regimen, the two of you start to talk.

He apologizes for you getting roped into this by the guys.  He didn’t think they knew about you, and he never thought they’d assume anything from his texting with you…but you wave him off, tell him not to apologize.

At the end of the first week, you make a face at his constant apologizing.  You wince a little and ask if you should go.  Are you cramping his style?  Would he rather be alone?  Is it too weird, having you there?  If he doesn’t need help or company anymore, you can go…

Benny is honest in his answer.  No, he doesn’t need your help, he can probably manage on his own with some minor struggles, but he enjoys your company.  

So you keep coming over.

And the two of you talk more.  It becomes its own thing, the way his initial texts became their own thing:  dinner and then watching TV together, either true crime or sports or nothing special at all.  The TV is just background noise for when you talk.

“Do you ever feel guilty about it?” he asks one night.  His voice is quiet, and the question comes out hesitant.  He doesn’t want to offend you, but he also wants to check in with you.  He wants to make sure you’re okay, so many months after the fact.

“Guilty?  No.”  You look at him for a beat, then turn back to the TV.  “I suppose if I feel anything, it’s relief.  And maybe a little bit of sadness.  Scientifically, I know all the propaganda is just flat-out wrong.  That abortion…it wasn’t a roly-poly baby.  It was a cluster of cells the size of a blueberry.  But I guess the sadness is at the potential.  It could have been, you know?  Maybe I would have miscarried anyway, but the potential was there, if that makes sense.”

Benny nods.  “Makes sense to me.”

“What about you?”

He shakes his head a little.  “Mostly relief for me too.  I wasn’t in a good spot.  But I do feel guilty about putting you in that situation.”

“We both agreed—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts you off.  “In it together.  Right.  But still….”

He trails off and looks at you, sees you gazing back at him.  There’s no reason this entire weird friendship should make sense, but it does.  He sees you looking at him, not an ounce of judgement or disgust in your expression.  There’s only a small smile, a small encouraging nod, and he’s still on enough pain medication—and tired enough—for his usual taciturn reserve to fail him.

He opens up about his ex.  About the three years they spent together.  How he thought she was The One, capital “T” and capital “O.”  How he felt like he was on a treadmill, though, always running after her, never catching up.  How he struggled to make her happy.  How he never made quite enough money, or had quite enough time, or said quite the perfect thing.  How his ex used silence like a cudgel, making him scramble to guess what he’d done wrong.

“I went out that night because I was furious,” he admits to you.  “I saw that my ex was dating again, only a week after dumping me.”

“So you were definitely rebounding.”

He nods.  He reaches out for his glass of water, grunts at the stretch against his ribs as he reaches.  You lean forward and get it for him, hand him the glass, and he takes a long sip.

“I just wanted to find some woman to sleep with,” he adds, and the shame washes over him to remember his rage and how he’d been prepared to take it out on a stranger.

“And you found me.”  You smile again, this time sad, and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

But you weren’t just some woman that night, and he tells you so.  He tells you how funny you had been, how kind.  How you had bought him a drink, and no woman had ever bought him a drink before.  How you had joked around with him, flirted.  Made him feel good about himself, smoothed over the rough edges of his anger until he forgot that he was there to forget his ex.

“You did that thing that some drunk girls do,” he says quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“What thing?”

That thing that some drunk girls do.  Benny Magalon knows that alcohol can reveal a person’s innermost self.  Angry people are angry drunks.  Sweet people are sweet drunks.  

That night at the bar:  you completely drunk, him well on the road to full intoxication too.  He had mentioned his recent breakup, made some disparaging comment about himself.  And you had done that thing, cupped his face firmly between your two hands, smushed his cheeks together a bit because you were drunk.  You had gazed up at him, eyes glassy but earnest, and you gave him one of those drunk-girl pep-talks.  Told him he was good-looking and smart and funny and a million other superlatives that you couldn’t possibly prove out, since he was a stranger to you, but it still made him feel amazing all the same.  After three years of scrambling to feel worthy of his ex, you had given him a hot-shot right to his ego.  Made him feel hopeful.

That was the moment he had decided to take you home.  Not because you were the random woman he wanted to fuck as a way of getting over his ex, but because you seemed so unlike her, and he wanted you just for you.

He tells you all of that now, and you’re quiet for a long, long moment.  He’s found that you have a poker face too (maybe not as good as his own), and he can’t guess what you’re thinking.

“That’s why I feel guilty two times over,” he adds.  “Because I went out to the bar with less-than-honorable intentions.  I went out just to find someone to use.  And then, what happened afterwards….”

“You have to let go of the guilt, Ben,” you tell him.  You shake your head a bit, offer him another sad smile.  “It’s in the past.  You can’t change it, so take your lesson from it and do better going forward.”

-----

It’s only a few days later when he snaps at you.  It’s not your fault, but it’s his first full day without pain medicine, and Benny realizes that the stuff he’s been on was super-strong.  Now that he’s off it, the pain is in full bloom:  the ache in his ribs, the grinding pain in his broken arm.  The itchy healing of the cuts and scrapes on his side.  He’s been in a shitty mood all day, and when you turn up and make dinner, he takes it out on you.

“You can stop coming over.  If you think you owe me, you’ve repaid it ten times over,” he spits out.  His head is throbbing, and he’s uber-aware of his broken arm.  He can’t get comfortable with it, and even the sling seems to irritate his neck and shoulder until he feels like he’s made of just raw nerves and exhaustion.

“I don’t think that at all.”  You are serene when you answer him, completely unperturbed by his mean tone.

“Don’t you?”  It comes out sneering, and he knows he’s trying to pick a fight.  Some part of him—a small, mean part—wants to fight with you.  Wants to drive you away.  He wants to be alone and wallow.  Because another part of him—a small, despairing part—wants you to stay, but he knows that once he’s healed and able to take care of himself, you’ll disappear…

Better to be the one to push people away than to be the one who is pushed away.

You don’t rise to the occasion of the fight.  You turn away from the stove to look at him, and your tone is mild.

“I’ll leave if you want, but let me finish dinner first.  No sense in wasting it.”

It breaks the spell of his irritation, and Benny hangs his head.  “Sorry.”

You reach out and lay a hand on his forehead, considering him.  “You look flushed.  First day off the pain pills, right?  No wonder you’re ornery.”

You drop your hand and turn back to the stove, to dinner prep.  You tell him, just as casually, that you know how it feels.  That you took a bad fall on a hike a few years back and jammed up your shoulder pretty good.  That you had surgery to repair the mess of torn ligaments, and that the withdrawal from even a short run of opiates was miserable.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats quietly.  Then, a beat later, “will you stay?”

*****

It shouldn’t make sense, but it does.  You and Ben Magalon may have started as a couple of strangers united through a sad event, but you’ve ended up friends.  

From friends, you become something more, but you go so, so slow.  It’s glacially paced, but that suits you just fine.  It seems to suit him too.  Friendship is a good place to stay while he works through his own issues with his ex.  Friendship is a good place for you to idle while you contemplate how wildly out of order everything is:  one-night stand, accidental pregnancy, then affection.

Because you do like Ben.  A lot.  You don’t love him, but you’ve always been slow to fall in love, too measured and wary of such precarious emotions.  Love, for you, is like getting the flu:  there’s signs that it’s coming.  Instead of a sore throat or a bit of fever, it’s little things:  the fluttery feeling in your stomach, the way your thoughts drift to him when you are at work.

It goes slow.  Ben heals up and goes back to work.  The two of you text all the time, and it becomes a thing, hanging out.  You’re both zero frills, zero fuss, so you usually just settle at your apartment or his.  Order take-out and watch whatever game is on, or you switch off on picking movies.  Which is what friends do—they just hang out.  But sometimes it toes the line of being more.

Like when he has a weeklong string of bad work days.  A case that falls apart.  A witness that disappears.  Double shifts where nothing is accomplished and nothing is solved.  He calls you and tells you about it, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“Want me to come over and bring you dinner?” you ask, and he does want that.

The week must have gotten under his skin, because when the two of you eat a late meal on his couch, he sits closer to you.  Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.  After he finishes eating, he sets his take-out container down and loops an arm around your shoulder.  Pulls you against him gently.

“This okay?” he asks.

It is okay, and you tell him so.

-----

Or there’s the time your grandfather dies.  You fly out east for the funeral, but when you return to L.A., you text Ben.

He turns up at your door with a bag of tacos, grease-spotted and still warm from the restaurant.  He sits with you and eats in silence, not pushing you, and when the dam finally breaks and you cry, he holds you then too.  Only this time, he’s giving you comfort instead of taking it for himself, and you consider it later—how the two of you seem to be the other’s safe place, against all odds.

*****

It’s not a position that Benny Magalon ever thought he’d find himself in.  Getting a girl pregnant, then falling in love with her after the fact.  He’s seen a million incongruous things happen in his job though.  L.A. is a vortex of the weird.

Stranger things have happened.

He keeps up the tame lie for the benefit of the guys.  Easier to maintain the lie than to come up with a more complicated lie to explain you away…and certainly easier than coming clean.  They rag him sometimes, and he finds that he enjoys the lie.  He enjoys pretending that you’re his girl, that he’s managed to land someone he thinks is the real deal.

The two of you are friends, and maybe the situation that brought you together helps, in its own strange way.  Trial by fire.  Mutual mourning pulling you together instead of tearing you apart.  

The reality is that the line is blurring.  It’s slow, but the line is dissolving between friends and something else. The two of you start to touch more—you tucked away under his arm as you watch TV or chat, him casually touching your back as he walks past you.  Small touches, nothing overtly sexual, but it’s a cozy intimacy that he finds he really likes, especially with you.  It grounds him.

Sometimes you sleep over at each other’s place, even if it’s never planned.  He nods off on your couch and wakes in the morning to find that you’ve eased a pillow under his head and covered him with a blanket.  You fall asleep against him at his place, and he puts you in his bed.  He gives you a t-shirt to sleep in while he tosses and turns on his own couch, trying to be the gentleman.

There’s the night you both fall asleep together on your couch.  He wakes up in the middle of the night, disoriented, to find you curled up in his arms, your steady breathing tickling against his neck.

That’s the night he chances to kiss you, just a gentle press of his lips against your temple.  Then he falls back asleep too, wondering at the cliché of it, how well he sleeps with you.

-----

A year passes.  The anniversary passes.  He’s working a double shift that day so he can’t be there with you, but when he goes out for a smoke break, he calls you.

“How are you doing?” he asks.

There’s a long pause, and he knows you’re being thoughtful before you answer.  You do that, he’s noticed:  you answer slow because you want to be honest and clear.

“I was sad earlier, but I’m okay now,” you tell him.  “What about you?”

He was sad earlier too.  He had thought about it all day, the potential you had told him about before.  But hearing your voice makes him feel better, and he tells you so.

There’s another long beat of silence from you, but then your soft voice says, “I’m glad to have you in my life, Ben.”  

That makes him feel better too.

-----

It’s a few months after when one of Benny’s cases finally gets solved.  It has dragged on for months and months, leads that led nowhere, witnesses who saw nothing.  He finally gets a pop on some touch DNA, and it unlocks two other unsolved cases.  He gets that flush of pleasure at a job well done, at actually living out his dream of being a cop who solves shit and gets the bad guys put away.

The guys want to celebrate.  They invoke your name.

“Bring your girl, Borracho,” Z says.  “We’ll keep it PG for her.”

“PG-13, at least,” Henderson amends.

Benny demurs.  Mumbles something about not wanting to bother you, and he misses the sly smile between Connors and the Z.

When they end up at the bar they usually go to, there you are:  waiting outside with a shy smile on your face.  Waiting for them.  You’ve shed your workwear and are in jeans that hug your curves, a shirt that shows just a hint of cleavage.  You have a whole cutely sexy thing that he loves, and his heart lurches when he sees you.

Z slaps Benny on the back.  He leans forward and tells him that Connors kept your phone number for just such an occasion, and he smirks as he tells Benny that he can’t hide you away forever.

He has to concede that they have a point.

-----

He knows you well enough to know you’re a homebody by nature, but you can turn on a sociable part of you too.  You’re shy at first—you shrink against him a bit, because the guys are a lot—but you warm up over time.  You know them from the hospital.  It doesn’t take long until you are chatting with them, laughing with them.  

When they try to embarrass Benny by telling you stories about him, you sweetly defend him.  When Big Nick offers a toast to the man of the hour, when the guys give you the sordid details about the cases he just solved, you smile at him so broadly that he feels dazzled.

He lays his arm around your shoulders, and you lean into him.  You lay a gentle hand on his knee.

You both drink, but not much at all.  You both layer in a lot of water between your alcohol, and at some point, late in the night, you both switch to soda at the same time.

Henderson notices it.  He rolls his eyes and gestures between the two of you.

“Gross,” he says.  “You two are already acting like each other.”

Benny flips him off with a grin, but he squeezes you a little tighter against his side.  He knows why he’s not getting plastered, and he can guess that you’re pacing yourself for the same reason.

By the time it’s last call, it doesn’t feel like the two of you are pretending for the benefit of the guys anymore.  It feels natural.

----

Benny takes you home, like that first night together, but that’s where the comparison ends.

There’s no drunken pawing at each other, no giggling when one trips over their discarded pants.  No sloppy kisses that taste like liquor.

He’s gone so slowly with you.  He’s been so careful.  It started that day he was healing, the first day without pain pills when he had been a snappish asshole and you had simply recognized the source of his ire and moved on.  That was the day he started to think, maybe.  Maybe I can win this woman over, after all the terrible shit from the beginning.

He’s never been so careful with a woman.  He builds a friendship first.  He gets to really know you, and he lets his own guard down so you can know him.  

Benny goes slow now too.  He puts his hands on your shoulders before he makes a move.  He makes you look at him, and even though you’ve been only drinking a little, he studies your eyes for any signs of impairment.  He finds none:  just you, clear-eyed, gazing up at him.

“Is this something you want?” he asks.  He thinks he gets that vibe from you, but he’s not entirely sure.  The insecure part of him, leftover from his ex, wonders if you’re just trauma-bonded to him.  He’s heard the term before, and he wonder if it fits your situation with him.

You’re not drunk, but you do that thing that some drunk girls do:  you reach up and hold his face between your hands.  You don’t smush his cheeks together like before, because you’re sober, and he smiles against the memory.  You smile back at him.

“This is something I want,” you reply.

So he takes his time.  He moves slowly, carefully.  He kisses you, and it’s not like before.  For one, you’re sober, but more than that:  he knows you now.  He knows your quirks and likes and habits.  He knows how you deal with tragedy, how you break problems down into manageable bites.  You aren’t just some cute girl from a bar.  You’re a real woman that he’s fallen for, little by little, then all at once.

You kiss him back, the sweet press of your lips against his, the sweep of your tongue inside his mouth.  He’s tentative when he touches you—his palms smoothing over your arms, one settling at your waist to pull you closer to him.  The other slides up to cup the back of your neck, and he brushes his thumb over your throat, over your pulse point.  He can feel your heartbeat, steady and solid.

You touch him back.  Press your palms to his chest, toy with button near his throat.  You undo it, and then you break the kiss to dip your head.  You kiss him, feather-light, in the hollow of his throat.  He exhales a ragged breath and cups your chin to pull your face back to his, your mouth back to his own.  He kisses you harder.  Nips against your soft lower lip, suckles against it when you gasp.

He does everything he should have that first night.  Deep down, he’s not like Big Nick or the other guys:  he’s only had a handful of random hook-ups, almost always settling for relationships over flings.  Now’s his chance to do better with you.  He leads you to the bedroom, your hand gripped in his, unwilling to let you go for even a few seconds.

He takes his time.  He strips you slowly, worships each new part of you when it’s bared to him.  He takes off your shirt and then kisses your neck, your collarbones, your shoulders.  He finds the old scars from your shoulder injury, and he kisses those gently, remembering how kindly you had cared for him when he was injured.  

He takes off your bra and lavishes you with attention there:  cups your breasts in his hands, molds them and pushes them up so that he can lave them with his tongue, nip at your diamond-hard peaks with the edges of his teeth until you whine out his name.  

It goes straight to his dick, hearing his name tumbling out of your mouth in that breathy, pleading tone.  He’s never heard that tone before.  He wants to hear it again and again.

He gets you out of the rest of your clothes.  He sheds his own.  He kisses his way down your body, suckles marks against your soft skin.  He kisses the softness of your belly, kisses the swell of your hips.  He bares his teeth and nips at your hipbone, and you squirm at the sensation.  Huff out his name again, only this time you call him Benny.  Usually you call him Ben (or sometimes Officer Magalon, when you’re feeling like a teasing little shit) but Benny sounds so much better in your mouth.

He didn’t go down on you before; you let him do so now.  You part your thighs, make room for his broad shoulders to spread you wider before him.  You squirm a little at that too, at his heavy gaze, so he asks again if it’s okay.  You nod, but then you say that yes, it’s okay.  Your voice is strained, tight with lust, so Benny bends his head to you.  He puts his mouth on you, and the first swipe of his tongue makes you whine out his name again, makes his dick jump at the sound.

He wants to devour you, but he keeps his careful pace.  Laps at you torturously slow, circles your clit in a lazy pattern with the tip of his tongue.  Eases one finger, then another into your wet heat, and he can already feel how sensitive you are.  Keyed up and twitching against his fingers.  Benny has to shift himself on the bed to give himself a bit of friction against the sheets, a bit of relief for his aching cock.

“Benny, please,” you whisper.  It tears out of your throat ragged, raw.  He glances up and sees how he’s undone you with just his mouth:  your lips are parted and panting, your eyes are shiny with frustrated tears.  

“Got you, sweetheart.”  And he does.  He crooks his fingers inside you, pressing his fingertips searchingly inside you until you gasp and jerk against him.

“Right there?” he asks.  “Is that the spot?”

“Fuck, yes, Benny…yes, right there—”

He bends his head again.  Strokes that spot inside you with his fingertips, and then he wraps his lips around your clit.  Sucks against it, and you’re so keyed up, that’s all it takes.  He feels it a moment later, the force of your orgasm overtaking you.  He coaxes you through it, groans at how it hits all of his senses—your pussy gripping his fingers, the warm slick of your cum coating his hand and his tongue.  The taste of you, and best of all:  you whining his name, begging him to not stop, to never stop.

-----

What comes next could be awkward, given your history together.  But the two of you have taken it slowly, become friends.  The two of you have spoken frankly about what happened, and so it isn’t awkward.

“We can stop, if you want,” he tells you once you’ve both calmed from him eating you out.  He’s stretched out beside you, running his hand over your arm soothingly.  “We don’t have to do anything else.”

You lean forward and press a light kiss to his mouth.  “I want to, Benny.”

“I have new condoms.  Unexpired.”

You nod.  “And I have an IUD.  Got one a few months after.”

“Twice as safe then.”

“Well….”  You shrug against him, and you start to cite prevention percentages in both contraceptives, in perfect use and typical use, and Benny is reminded that you’re also a giant fucking nerd for statistics and numbers, so he cuts you off with a kiss.

And what comes after that discussion could be awkward too, but it isn’t.  He lies on his back.  He wants you on top, controlling the moment.  He doesn’t want even an ounce of doubt in his head creeping in later, when he will inevitably try to convince himself that you don’t want him and only went along with it.

It’s not awkward at all.  You mirror his slow pace, and now that you’re on top, you take liberties and kiss him.  Gentle kisses across his face, down his throat.  Across his shoulders and chest, and you start to drift even lower until he stops you.

“Some other time,” he says, and his voice sounds like yours did.  Ragged.  Raw.

It’s not awkward when you slide onto him.  When you settle against his thighs, the full length of him buried inside you.  Not awkward at all.  You feel like home.

He grips your waist, but he doesn’t drive you to go faster.  He just holds onto you as you ride him, slow and sensual.  You go slow enough for him to feel every inch of you, feel the heavy drag of his cock as you impale yourself over and over on him.

You look like a damned vision.  He probably looks stupid, his mouth agape, a stunned look on his face.  He can’t fathom how he’s here with you, despite the slow and careful tact he’s taken all these months.  More than a year he’s known you, and it astounds him that the two of you have ended up here together.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart,” he breathes out.  You are.  He looks at you greedily, takes in every inch of you.  He wants to memorize this moment.  Before, he was left with only a few flashes of memory, so he wants to take in every movement of your hips, every bounce of your tits as you ride him.  The way you arch your back as you pick up the pace, driving both yourself and him to your mutual pleasure.

This time around, he gets to see you come.  He can’t remember that moment from before, but he sees it now:  the way you squeeze your eyes shut so tightly that a tear creeps out of one corner.  The way you breathe out his name, a tortured whisper.  One of your hands grips at his pec, your nails biting into his skin, but the other reaches higher to cup his face.  To hold him steady as you lean forward and kiss him, hard.  

That’s how you come—a throaty groan that he swallows down as he kisses you back, a tight grip on his cock as you sink onto him and still.  You break the kiss a second later, whispering his name over and over like a prayer, and it’s such an intensely intimate moment—and he’s been holding his own orgasm back—that he comes too.

-----

Before, the two of you had basically collapsed afterwards, a mass of sweaty limbs tangled up together. You’d both fallen asleep; there had been no talking afterwards.

This is…sweeter.  More intimate.  Benny cleans up, and he helps you clean up, and then he settled back down in the bed with you.  Lifts an arm in invitation, and you curl up against him.

He feels drunk now, if he’s honest.  He feels loose-limbed and pleasantly buzzed.  There’s a warm flush offset by the goosebumps you raise on him as you trace your fingertip over the tattoo on his chest, as your breath tickles against his neck.  

Not for the first time, it occurs to him how absurd this is.  This thing between the two of you.  He always thought he’d meet his girl the usual way, do things in the usual order.  

You must be thinking the same thing.  After a long stretch of silence, you say, “it’s weird, right?”

It is, but it’s not bad-weird.  Just…. unlikely-weird.  Unexpected-weird.

“I’m not a one-night stand anymore,” he jokes.

You turn your head and nip at him playfully.  “You know what I mean, Benny.”

“I do.”  He takes a few steadying breaths, the adds, “it never has to be anyone’s business but our own, you know.”

“I know.”

“Because I want this.”  He says it quieter, half hoping you don’t hear it over how hard his heart must be beating.

He almost thinks you don’t hear him, it takes you so long to answer.  But you do.  “I want this too,” you whisper back.

You fall asleep first, and he takes longer to nod off.  He thinks back to when the two of you talked about it, how you had said that you were only sad when you thought about the potential, from before.  

But as he starts to drift to sleep, he thinks about the potential the two of you still have.  The potential you have together because you both took a less than ideal situation and came together over it.  How you became each other’s support and built from that instead of letting the sad circumstances of your beginning keep you apart.

You and Benny Magalon.  You were in it together, both then and now.

~~~Tag List~~~ @bananas-pajamas  @massivecolorspygiant​   @imspillingcoffee​   @amneris21​   @paintballkid711​   @mad-girl-without-a-box​   @bestattempt   @rosiefridayrogersunday​   @strawberrydragon​   @hoeforthefictional​   @greeneyedblondie44​  @leannawithacapitala​   @stardust-galaxies​  @buckybarneshairpullingkink​   @harriedandharassed​  @thatpinkshirt​@melaniecraig80   @thesandbeneathmytoes​

#benny magalon #Benny Borracho Magalon Imagine #benny borracho magalon #benny magalon x reader #benny magalon x reader #Borracho Magalon x Reader #borracho magalon x reader #borracho magalon #den of thieves

[damnation-if]

I would love to hear you rant about dnd demon cosmology 👀 what potential do you see? You seem to be really good at cool concepts (i.e. the game), soooo what about for dnd?

oh dear... you've activated my trap card XD the question of what potential i see in d&d's cosmology is almost too broad in a way because. they do literally nothing with it. the vast majority of players don't know a thing about it - some might know small parts, from perhaps a book where it came up, a popular podcast that touched on it, or maybe a DM that fell down a rabbithole. but it's IMMENSELY difficult to really put together a proper picture of why the fuck the entire universe of d&d... Is.

i know a shit-tonne more than most people and even my knowledge is largely confined to some of the outer planes, specifically the evil-aligned ones. i couldn't tell you shit about the half-dozen good- or neutral-aligned ones and how they came about, and wizards of the coast doesn't seem even vaguely interested in helping anyone find anything out. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this, to my abject and utter disbelief, extends to the PEOPLE WRITING OFFICIAL FORGOTTEN-REALMS-COMPLIANT CONTENT. meaning that wizards is putting out campaigns and content via official licensing that break or make NO sense within their own canon.

i'm going to put a cut here because be warned... this WILL get long. i'm going to explain... briefly-ish... about the Abyss and some aspects of the Hells, and then i'm going to talk about... briefly-ish... what an absolute TRAVESTY Out Of The Abyss was, lore-wise, and hopefully illustrate how wizards are wasting the potential that exists by NEVER EXPLAINING ANYTHING. (spoilers for Out Of The Abyss also)

okay, whew. rapid-fire. i can do this. briefly.

there's a guy, a god, named Tharizdun - you might know him from some books - and he wasn't always evil or mad. originally he was pretty put together but he liked knowing Stuff and Things so he basically built the equivalent of a telescope to look into the realm of Chaos that existed beyond the known planes. in d&d cosmology, chaos is a force in and of itself that acts as a counter to law; chaos springs up naturally in places like a vacuum or void whereas most physical planes tend to collect law in kinda the same way planets collect an atmosphere.

however, Chaos is different to Entropy. entropy, like in real life, is the force that's eventually going to implode the universe and cause the opposite of the Big Bang (they call it the Big Crunch lmfao). maybe. physicists go back and forth on this but in d&d it's more set. eventually, every plane will be consumed by Entropy and everything will End. (this is expanded on a lot in Starfinder, a scifi sequel of sorts to Pathfinder.) the closest thing to beings aligned with Entropy are the Great Old Ones, your Hasturs and Shub-Nigguraths and Cthulhus... it's why 5e Great Old One Warlock is entirely separate to Fiend Warlock. different guys, different power sources

so anyway Tharizdun built himself a telescope into the Chaos beyond the planes and he found out there were people! living out there! people made of Chaos! and one of them was a sexy tentacle lady! surely her intentions are nothing but pure!! this can't possibly go wrong!!! sorry buddy... try meeting sexy tentacle ladies on your own plane next time

the Queen of Chaos, Tharizdun's new internet girlfriend, was an elder type of demon called an obyrith, who are now the least common type of demon and rarely ever come up in official material at all despite being OBJECTIVELY WAY COOLER than the younger tanar'ri. the vast majority of obyrith are so otherworldly and alien that simply looking upon them is enough to drive mortals mad. knowledge of their names is enough in some cases. whereas the tanar'ri are mostly just mean or gross dudes

unfortunately for Tharizdun, he wasn't immune either, and his telescope relationship with the tentacle lady from the black void started to rot his mind, which was probably supremely awkward for his friends. she was trying to cajole him to let the demons into the plane he lived on, partially because demons like fucking shit up and partially because the swirling chaos void had no protections against the encroach of Entropy and none of the demons wanted to get Eaten.

eventually, between his madness and his desire to meet up with her in meatspace, as 'twere, he was persuaded not to let the demons into his plane, but create one for them to move into, called the Abyss. the demons said "great! we'll pack our bags" figuring that once inside they could just use plane shift to hop over to wherever (plane shift only works if you're On A Plane lmfao) but Tharizdun had the presence of mind to basically build into the Abyss a secret rule that prevented creatures of pure chaos from leaving it. it worked perfectly from his point-of-view - he'd just pop over for a booty call whenever he wanted, and also he doesn't get bitched out by the other gods for letting lowly chaos people into the plane.

the demons. did not take getting tricked well. Tharizdun is currently imprisoned in a layer of the Abyss, frozen eternally.

however, in the brief time before the demons figured out they'd been had, the Queen of Chaos conceived a child with Tharizdun, everybody's favourite 2-baboon-headed badboy, Demogorgon. this is why he's often called the first of the tanar'ri, because he was the first demon born in a physical plane - but he's not REALLY a demon, he's half-god. which is why He and Only He can plane shift (this will be important later). the next guy who is maybe more accurately the first of the tanar'ri is Graz'zt, who was Built by his obyrith mother Pale Night who basically went "eh, screw giving birth, i'm just gonna Make A Guy" but Graz'zt also sort of doesn't count. so. who knows who's really First

the obyrith didn't fare great being in a physical plane for the first time ever so these new demons who didn't need to adjust quickly eclipsed them in power. to this day, Demogorgon and Graz'zt are the two currently most powerful demon lords with any sense of style behind them - the third guy who competes with them is Orcus, who is important purely because he is some writer's Evil Wizard OC, Do Not Stial, and no other reason. i shrimply do not have the time to get into Orcus right now LMAO

the two big boys started beating down the obyrith who wanted to bring them down a peg or two, most notably Obox-ob the former Prince of Demons, who is like. the coolest guy EVER by concept and TOTALLY WASTED, and the Queen of Chaos, who wanted her new boyfriend (she moved on quickly) The Wolf-Spider (i don't know anything about him? he could just be a spider. i Do Not Know) to be the new ruler, and all-out war basically broke out between camps of demons fighting each other.

a bunch of gods saw this and were like "okay, perfect! kill them while they're distracted" and sent a bunch of angels and other powerful celestials to the Abyss led by Archangel Asmodeus (yes, really. yes, THAT Asmodeus). the demons rallied against their common Snooty enemy, and the war turned to angels vs demons. so, how did the powerful archangel turn into the Prince of Hells we all know? well...

he met a guy, who looked Mostly like an angel (probably fine, don't worry about that Asmodeus), called Pazuzu, who was muscular and hot and Asmodeus liked him A Lot. A Lot.

Pazuzu was an obyrith, and he literally Seduced Asmodeus to the Dark Side lmfao. YES, REALLY. that's really canon!! and Nobody knows about it XD that's how devils started! they're just angels!! Pazuzu and Asmodeus are still on good terms!! please for the love of god wizards. do something with Any of this!!!

anyway, that's the Basic history (yes, basic. i know, i'm sorry lmfao). for a perfect explanation of why wizards is wasting All Of This, let's look at a campaign module called Out Of The Abyss, which touted itself as an exploration of the Abyss and its lore. it LIED, believe me. i was SO excited by the concept of Out Of The Abyss, but it disappointed me on SO many levels.

the writer, who i don't personally blame of course, seems to have been given a list of names of demon lords, not been able to do Any research, and just been told "make them all fight in the end." the basic premise is that Lolth, who exists lore-wise purely through the power of boobies. tricks a guy into summoning 8 demon lords to the Prime Material Plane. this would be an Extinction Level Event if it took place within any reality even vaguely resembling proper Forgotten Realms canon.

but for whatever reason, they all instead just sit there twiddling their thumbs (grossly out of character for all 8 that are involved), except for Demogorgon, who... rampages around the Underdark stomping on people because he wants to go home. Demogorgon. who can Canonically. Plane Shift. Canonically. so he doesn't do so for NO reason.

Graz'zt fucking VANISHES, literally isn't MENTIONED, for the entire campaign. the guy who has the biggest cult following out of all of them and the largest power base In the Prime Material Plane? he's just sitting in a closet somewhere i guess. he's got nothing worth doing. what is he, some kind of masterful demon schemer looking for a leg up on his age-old enemy?? haha no... closet time

and what's EVEN WORSE is that none of the demon lords left back in the Abyss DO ANYTHING during their absence. Obox-ob, who swore vengeance against Demogorgon and that he would get his throne back AT ANY COST, is just kicking rocks for the MULTIPLE YEARS the campaign can take place over. doing nothing. Queen of Chaos and the Wolf-Spider? same. she doesn't take the opportunity to try and free her boyfriend from Demogorgon's prisons cos. it would be rude i guess? every demon politely sits there waiting for the mortals to sort things out, because if there's one thing we know about demons, it's how orderly they are! even Lolth, who supposedly did this in an attempt to gain power? doesn't?? do anything?????

-the CRs for these demon lords in the big fight at the end are also WILDLY out of canon alignment with previously used CRs for other demon lords. so completely bonkers i can't even get into it or i'll Never stop-

imagine how cool it could have been if this event that should have impacted huge amounts of story, shaken up the ENTIRE political structure of the Abyss, brought the obyrith back to the fore, forced the gods to finally REALLY confront the fact that Graz'zt and Lolth each have a worship count that rivals their own, explored Demogorgon's half-divine nature, explained the Link (and subsequent Rift) between the Abyss and the Hells, really examined what it means for a demon lord to be so powerful as to possibly become a kind of god.

but no. everybody just sits there in a t-pose until the players push all the buttons to make it go away. why actually do anything Interesting

shortly after (i think?) presumably as a result of what a wet fart of a story this campaign turned out to be, they had Lolth leave the Abyss and become affiliated with an evil god plane. and that's It. it wasn't in a story. they just changed A Word on her wiki entry. that's it

so yeah... hopefully that conveys why i feel the way i do about wasted story potential lmfao. on the extremely unlikely chance that you read all the way to here, thanks for sticking with me. i love to talk about things i'm passionate about... and this one's pretty complicated (hence the wordcount). sorry<3

#long post #SERIOUSLY IT'S LONG DON'T EXPAND IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ D&D LORE #what does the chaos mirror see #anon #thank you for your question! and oh god i'm so sorry<3 #out of the abyss my behated... #yes i personally Destroyed orcus from the ground up when we played it but only because i Know Things lmfao #i feel like it must have been the most miserable experience Ever for everyone else #much like reading my wall of text! badum-tsh

[unpassive-viewer]

Across the Spider-Verse Review (mild spoilers)

I have finally seen the long-awaited sequel to my most favourite movie. Y’all, I am in love with what Sony is doing for Spider-Man these days. I have literally not been this excited to see a movie since I was 12 years old waiting in line in a themed outfit to see Catching Fire for its opening weekend, and I think this film lived up to that hype. I have some critiques, but overall it was really good. I won’t include any major plot spoilers, but I’ve tagged it as mild spoilers just in case you’re the type of person who doesn’t like to know a single thing going into this movie. 

The good (not in order of importance): 

1. More Gwen character development. She’s in this one in a much larger capacity than the first one, and all of her parts were awesome. 

2. Soundtrack. I started listening it to it before I even went to see the film. It’s good music already, but it is such a different experience to hear it over the movie. The art direction for these films is SEAMLESS, the different elements blend so well. 

3. The visuals. The animation is genuinely so beautiful, I would use literally every frame of this movie as a screensaver, and I would tattoo them on the inside of my eyelids if that didn’t mean I’d have to pick only one. I want to give the animators a big kiss on the mouth because this film is so visually incredible. 

4. The fight scenes. I love animation because you can capture things that cameras just can’t. The pacing of the fighting was so, so good. It’s one of the only movies I’ve seen that keeps the momentum of its fight sequences and really lets you feel the energy of the actions you’re watching. It was unique from movies like the second Captain America, whose fight scenes I also LOVE, because of the way it followed characters with such fast and dynamic movement. Whereas the Winter Soldier had great representation of real fighting styles, Across the Spider-verse was able to make use of a lot of its characters uniquely-inspired movements like Gwen’s dancer style. It could also follow them while they did insanely complex movements - if you’ve seen Gwen’s first fight scene, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. 

5. The new characters are unbelievably cool. All of them. From the design to their personalities to their theme songs, they were really well thought out. In particular Spider-Man 2099 and Spider Byte are so beautifully visually contrasted with the rest of the movie. The characters also felt very honest to their backstories. By that I mean it felt like the animators and storyboard writers really did their research into the people they were trying to emulate, both from a source material standpoint and a cultural standpoint. 

6. Miles’ story in the sequel is still really interesting, despite him being established as a character now, and the additional dimensions this film brings to his character are super cool. 

7. The humour is top notch, and very true to Spidey humour that has carried through all of its iterations. I especially liked the first altercation between Miles and the main villain. It reminded me of Letterkenney and VEEP in that I felt like I needed subtitles to get all of the jokes because they were so rapid-fire and because the characters were talking over one another. It’s a very organic brand of humour that I appreciate. 

8. The inclusion of so many Spider characters was well handled. The MCU movies now essentially make no sense because of how much background knowledge you need just to watch one film. Comparatively this handled having literally hundreds of similarly designed characters really well. 

9. It seemed like altogether (much like the first one) there was a lot of creative license for this film. My biggest critique of Disney movies is that they’re soulless because of how much they’re supposed to appeal to a wide audience to maximize profits, but this movie and its predecessor have actual soul. If I learn that all the animators were treated like trash and they considered this film their personal hell I will be crushed, because it looks like something that is the product of a lot of amazing minds coming together for an incredible project. 

10. A lot of fun nods to the other Spider-Man films and games. Spider-Man PS2 is in there, and I think Yuri Lowenthal even does a voice cameo. I’m a big fan of the “don’t get me started on Dr. Strange and that little nerd on Earth-199999″ line. 

The less good:

1. Way too long. This film did not need a 2+ hour runtime. After about 1h40 I started thinking at the beginning of every scene “this has to be the end now, right?” wrong. This film had a “first book of the Lord of the Rings technically just being exposition” feeling to it. 

2. Too many heart to heart scenes. One of my least favourite things in cinema lately is trying to force feed you character development through dialogue. There could have been like... 10 fewer drawn-out heartfelt conversations and the movie wouldn’t have changed. 

3. The two major conflicts kind of got lost in one another. I enjoyed both but after a point I was confused as to what the real issue was. I know we’ll see the resolution in the second part, but I felt at least from my first viewing that I was watching a second movie after a point. 

4. No comparable “what’s up danger” scene. To be fair, I think that scene from the first movie is my favourite in literally all of cinema. I want to inject it into my veins, I want to breathe it like perfume, I want to wrap it around myself like a blanket. It is beautiful and perfect and amazing and I don’t know if it can be topped, but it was strange to have so many smaller moments that were supposed to be cool that were sort of lost in one another. HOWEVER I have to assume we will get another one in the second part next year. Miles’ character arc is obviously not done, so it makes sense that we will get something like that closer to the climax of the next movie. 

Anyways, I will be seeing it a second time in theatres. I usually don’t see films in the cinema because it’s so expensive, but I will happily give this franchise all of my money. I cannot overstate this - I am genuinely looking at getting a tattoo for this franchise. Sony owns me and I am okay with that. 

#across the spider-verse #miles morales #gwen stacy #peter b parker #spider byte #spider-man 2099 #mild spoilers #film review

[rakumel]

Raku Plays Her Faves: Pocky and Rocky 2

Part 1: The Changes

Happy New Year, tumblrites! At least, I hope it will be.

Anyway, today I'll be discussing the sequel to Pocky and Rocky on the SNES. If you don't know anything about what happened in the previous game, no worries: you don't need to have played it to understand what's going on here. It's more of a new episode or a self-contained story rather than a continuation.

While the basic gameplay is mostly the same, the developers made some noticeable changes, with mostly okay results. I wouldn't say it was a huge improvement, but they didn't ruin anything either. Gameplay's fine, is what I'm saying.

Before getting into the story of the game (there's not much, really), I wanted to go over some of those changes that they made.

Since the gameplay is a little different from the previous game, the first stage is just for practice, to help you get used to the controls. You can skip it completely if you want to, though.

Pocky still uses cards as projectiles and her wand at close range. But screen-clearing bombs are no longer a thing, and they took away the ability to slide. (They also took out the ability to charge close range attacks, but I personally never used that, so I didn't miss it.)

What they added were partners. At the beginning of most of the levels, you can choose one of three friends to accompany Pocky. You can find up to four more throughout the game. Each has their own abilities, both on their own and in a couple new mechanics.

One of the ways Pocky uses her partners is through the Magic command. What this amounts to is Pocky merging with her partner temporarily in order to use special abilities, some more useful than others.

By default it's mapped to the A button; press it to merge, press it again to revert back to normal. If you don't revert back after a few seconds, the game does it automatically, but penalizes you by taking the partner away for a short while. (You also come apart and lose your partner for a bit if you get hit by an enemy while merged.)

It's almost exclusively used to get items that ordinarily Pocky couldn't get to by herself; it's never needed to, say, remove an obstacle that keeps you from progressing though the game. So theoretically, you could finish the game without ever using Magic. If you made that choice, I wouldn't blame you. Aside from the whole "taking possession of your friend's body" deal, the animation for it looks kind of painful. The partner is flung up off the screen, then lands right on Pocky's head. Not sure if the rainbow effect is the result of magic or a concussion...

What am I saying, of course it's magic. This is a cartoony, cutesy game. None of that stupid realism here.

Which is a good thing, because Pocky can also just straight up hurl her friends at bosses. If the throw connects, the friend turns into an animated graphic (usually a column of magic) and delivers a short burst of rapid-fire hits to the boss for lots of damage. If you miss, her friend just bonks against the wall, sees stars for a second, and disappears for a little while.

Being Pocky's friend sounds like a rough business. I can see why they didn't appear in any other games. (Which is too bad since they're all pretty cool, but I'll get to that in the next part.)

They also added these shops in most levels, where you can stop to buy powerups and keys to open locked treasure chests. The prices get increasingly higher as the game goes on, though. In a few of the shops you can also buy hints on how to defeat an upcoming boss, but they're usually not worth the price.

They also put in a couple of auto-scrolling levels. The first one, Demon's Corridor, Pocky rides on the back of a guardian lion (or "Mad Dog" according to the game) through a long covered bridge. It's not too terrible - a little difficult because it moves fast, but entirely fair.

But the second, Dragon in the Sky, tends to be a lot harder for kind of a dumb reason. Don't get me wrong, flying through the clouds on top of a dragon named Gordon is awesome as hell. But Pocky can move around a little bit on the dragon's head, and this can actually be a problem when you're just trying to move the dragon sideways to dodge a ghost or enemy fire. It would have been better (imho) to have Pocky just stay in one spot and turn as needed.

That's about it for the major changes. (Well, aside from the password system, but you can get through the game in like, a couple of hours, so it's not really necessary.) But I don't really like the game because of those, or even for the story. What makes the game for me are the little characters that Pocky meets along the way.

I'll introduce you too, in the next post.

#raku plays her faves #raku plays her faves: pocky and rocky #pocky and rocky 2 #don't worry this one's only a two-parter #it's not a terribly complex game XD

[miloscat]

[Review] Sin and Punishment: Successor of the Skies (Wii)

A cool and hip sequel.

With my TV setup all repaired, it was time to revisit this mini-series of Treasure rail shooters. Released nine years and two console generations after the first game, the visual and technical prowess on display have had a huge boost and there's more control options, but the plot doesn't make any more sense!

The year: irrelevant. In fact the only link back to the original seems to be that the star is Isa, the son of Airon and Saki, who can also transform into a kaiju thanks to the cursed blood inherited from his father. Since I have a proper translated manual this time I was able to get some background... oh wait, nothing in the story blurb really comes up in the game... in fact, I would say it just raises further questions! The plot of the game itself starts in medias res and never really slows down to explain what's going on. Suffice it to say you play as a pair of anime tween supersoldiers who are on the run from various interdimensional factions of superpowered biomonsters and have to blast everything in sight. That's all you really need to know.

Accompanying Isa is Kachi, a defected alien double agent hard light hologram in human form... or something. You can choose to play as either of them; Kachi has a sort of auto-lock on aim assist and a multi-lock charge shot, while Isa has an explosive charge shot. I opted for Kachi and had a grand time on Easy mode, finding it plenty challenging enough (very nice to have the option!). You spend the entire time in Japan but with sci-fi trappings, fighting through ruined cities, deserts, underwater tunnels, a yokai dreamscape, a militarised volcanic Mt Fuji, and finally a cosmic boss rush where each boss gets new forms.

Much like the first game, it's a genre-hybrid rail shooter/gallery shooter/platformer, only the platforming is much reduced. You can still technically run along the ground but the pathetic jump might as well not exist, and both characters can at any time float anywhere on screen (Isa has a back-mounted hover sphere, Kachi a hoverboard), and their mobility is further augmented by a dodge move. Staying on the ground does get you a point bonus for whatever that's worth; the game is always prompting you to upload your scores to the now-defunct online leaderboards. But despite allowing for hardcore score-chasing and high-difficulty challenges I like that it remains accessible: there's still a stage select, and lives have been abolished as you can now freely retry from checkpoints at the cost of a score reset.

The stages are always full of action, the 16:9 widescreen display flooded with enemies to blast at, your multiplier filling up as you prioritise between chunkier mechs, vehicles, or creatures or the floods of creatures and soldiers, in every moment deciding between rapid fire, charging your lock on, or the melee attack for up-close big damage or reflecting projectiles. I rarely felt overwhelmed though as the action is communicated and paced well, and the game's solid and consistent 60fps framerate both helps keep things clear and is impressive on a technical level. Each level is long, with multiple miniboss fight setpieces strung through them with the shifting perspective keeping things fresh. If there's one criticism I have it's the occasional use of bullet hell-like patterns during boss fights because in these moments where it's most important, I wasn't clear on what my character's precise hitbox was. But the melee attack and dodge can help to get you through these waves of projectiles so you don't have to be a total movement wizard.

Multiple control schemes are on offer: the Wii pointer style works well for a shooter like this and all the functions are bound sensibly. I preferred using this for the level of control you have over your cursor, although it's hard on the wrist in long sessions. When my cat happened to be sleeping on my lap and I couldn't use cushions to help prop up my pointer hand, I switched over to Classic Controller mode which worked fine too. It's certainly a more straightforward scheme than the N64 controls of the first game even despite having new functions, thanks to dual-analogue being the new standard.

I'm very pleased with how much this game built on the foundation of its predecessor. The brief seems to have been to constantly have something cool happening, and it certainly succeeds at that. The battles that you get in the middle of make the world feel alive and dangerous, and the shapeshifting boss characters give a nice sci-fi feel. The character models don't have the distinctive pinched marionette look of the first game; rather, there's an attempt at realism mixed with large anime eyes and prepubescent proportions for the protagonists that I don't think works as well, despite the upgrade to voice acting and mocap. Still, it's a brilliant sequel in most ways, an exciting action thrill ride with good options and an amusingly careless approach to coherent story.

#sin and punishment #sin and punishment successor of the skies #sin and punishment star successor #treasure #wii #review

[idkaguyorsomething]

Five Nights at Freddy's Fic Recs

In honor of the movie coming out, here's some rapid-fire fic recs for a fandom that definitely has a lot of high-quality stuff! (It'll mostly be retellings of the first game, with a couple of exceptions. And, since a lot of them were written as the main games were coming out, none of these are 100% lore accurate, whatever that's worth to you)

Starting with a classic, this one begins as some surprisingly sweet "Mike befriends the animatronics" stories before digging into the lore and giving us a really sweet resolution to a dark story. If you just wanna spend some time with some characters from your childhood, I'd highly recommend it. Definitely not as focused on the plot as some other fics on here, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing!

This one leans a lot more into the horror aspects of FNaF, and it has more of a focus on plot than After Hours, but it takes time to develop the bonds between its characters that make for a powerful emotional core with some surprisingly sweet moments. In regards to Mike's family in particular, let's just say that a lot of it is especially heartwarming (and funny) in hindsight. It's got some really cool and unique ideas in regards to how it tells its story, and Foxy is super important too!

This one probably has the most going on by way of themes, and the messages about family it has going on are very similar to a lot of the generational trauma stuff Disney's been putting out recently, so if that floats your boat, or if you wanted that but with more ghosts and child murder, this one might be for you. It's definitely the most deliberately AU, if that makes any sense, but it's a really really good AU.

This one's my personal favorite retelling of the events of FNaF 1. It's got more in the way of action than the others and falls between After Hours and Poor Little Souls in terms of plot-to-vibing ratio, but in my opinion it's one of those stories that just gets better and better as it goes. Mike gets a nice friendship with Jeremy Fitzgerald, and it feels very earned at the climax when he's able *SPOILERS*. It's super good and has a bunch of sequels, go check it out.

Aaaaaaand, this one probably has the least to do with the actual FNaF games themselves, but I couldn't leave it out. This one is actually post-games (mostly) and centers around Mike adopting the ghosts of the kids haunting the animatronics. Like After Hours, there's a lot of just spending time with the characters and getting to watch them have fun with each other, though this one is way, way, waaaaaaay longer. If you're interested in Dad!Mike, the ghost kids getting to live the lives they never got, and some great use of a very overlooked antagonist in the franchise that I'm not going to spoil, give it a read!

(Also whoa, I wrote a FNaF fic too! And it's a crossover with Disney's Cinderella, of all things! Sorry for the shameless self-promo)

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf fic #fic rec #go check them out

[yuusaris]

Look At Me

Heyy, I was gunna do a sequel to Nice Face at some point and never finished it. Here y’all go, have the draft. Not finished, tho, sorry. Maybe someday.

-=-

Washington rips the helmet off and props it onto the ledge nearby. His head is light and his heart's aflutter and the sweat's stinging his eyes, the hairgel's broken down again and if he's going to start breathing properly again, he'd prefer fresh, unfiltered air.

Deeply in.  He rubs at his sweaty cheeks, streaked wet from the close confines of the helmet and redder than usual thanks to....whatever the hell that was back there.

Slowly out. He wipes his eyes clean of sweat with the heels of his gloves, and he feels grains of dirt brush against the corners of his eyes. The canyon looks still but the blood rushing through him keeps him sitting and looking at the ground. In and out, as calmly as possible.

Well that.....hadn't been a problem until now.

What the hell happened there?

It was a simple thing, just the one compliment in a fit of....whatever the hell that was and the next thing he knows Tucker believes it. Really takes it in and...processes it and....thanks him for shit, he's doing it again.

It's going to be fine, he reminds himself. It was a compliment. Tucker appreciated it. Maybe Tucker's motivated by it. That's all. That's a good thing. That's what it was for.

Still... it was nice to hear a thank you. A nice thank you, an earnest one. But he'd never heard Tucker so... quiet? Before? And... not just quiet but... but...

He... actually doesn't really know what. But thinking about it is getting his heart going again and his head's starting to reel and it all needs to stop.

I'm over-thinking this. Washington tells himself with an exhale. I've been feeling more and more uneasy the longer we stay here. It's been harder and harder to get things done lately. Protocol's been broken more and more the longer the teams have to settle in and think nothing is wrong.

Which is worrisome in it's own way. Everyone else is treating this like a relocation as well as a crash-landing and here's Washington monitoring supplies and fixing the tower and training troops on his own.

He's starting to look paranoid. He's starting to feel paranoid. So one brief lapse in paranoia for one brief moment of... gratitude on Tucker's end... and pride, that wasn't just Washington, right, Tucker felt proud? Glad? He sounded glad.

Of course he's glad, you complimented him. He corrects himself, though something about that doesn't soothe his heartbeat entirely....actually, just kind of makes it worse.

But he has a few minutes to calm down, and longer if Tucker's consistent pattern of slacking off will pull through today. Whatever Tucker’s feeling, Washington doesn’t actually need to be there for it. Tucker’s a big boy; he can be happy on his own.

And…as far away from Washington as physically allowed in a small, boxed canyon. At least until Washingtons’ own pulse decides to take a break. Just a small break, not a permanent one, enough of a break so the rapid-fire thudding heartbeats and dizzying blood-pumping can stop, thanks.  And the sooner he stops thinking about the earnestness to Tucker's voice - the quiet pride and honest gladness - then the sooner all of those symptoms stop.

I'm tired. He thinks, exhaling one last time. I'm nervous. I'm over-complicating a moment where someone isn't complaining or mouthing off and takes an earnest compliment to heart. Be grateful that Tucker is taking this with stride. Maybe he's starting to get it.

His breathing is almost normal again. And his pulse is slowing and he feels his cheeks calm down and soon, everything’s not so dizzyingly light anymore.

His dirty gloves run through his hair, a vain attempt to keep it back when he donning the helmet once more. A few strands fall in front of his face, but really, he'll live.

For now, it's time to actually set up the course he designed. If Tucker's in such a  good enough mood, maybe they can get through it without a hassle.

---

He was wrong, it was nothing but a hassle. From the start of the course to the end and all the sass and disrespect Tucker could summon despite pure exhaustion. From the quip before the course about Washington taking so long to the grunt about him being inhuman. All very Tucker, all expected.

Though, what he doesn't expect is the look on Tucker's face when Washington returns to lead him to the course. His helmet has been removed during his time away and wide brown eyes are glancing him over.

"Tucker?"

He looks over to Washington again at that, "Ready?", and takes a second to glance him over again. Washington thinks he catches the odd end of an odd smile. But with how fast he turns to lead Tucker away, and with the sun glaring down as harshly as it is, it's probably his imagination.

---

---

If Tucker’s got one thing going for him, it’s that he’s never confusing. He’s blunt. He’s honest enough for someone who can’t manage to talk about his emotions very well (Not that Washington is one to talk). He’s straight with his words, simple and clear and it’s… it’s reassuring at least, charming at best. Depending on what level his nerves decided to act up to today. Said nerves have settled on a relaxing six out of ten for the moment, meaning Tucker’s ‘charm’ (An attention-pulling air to the soldier that regularly balances between ‘annoying but bearable’ and ‘annoying, just plain annoying, so fucking annoying god damnit go do some push-ups’ on a regular basis) is more potent than usual. Washington takes a glance out the corner of his eye, under his visor, because technically he’s working on the Com Tower while Tucker does his push-ups, occasionally ‘breaking’ to ‘breathe’ - which wouldn’t be in quotes if Tucker didn’t waste said breath with sassing back. “Hundred.” Tucker breathes out, almost on cue, and hits the ground, flopping onto his back. “That was fifty, Private, I counted.” Washington says from the top of the tower. “Don’t bullshit me.” “Don’t you have a job? Aren’t you working?” Tucker growls tiredly from the dirt. “Focus on saving our lives, you fuck.” “Focus on your job and I’ll focus on mine.” “Jesus Christ…” Tucker groans out and grumbles for a few seconds. Eventually, he rolls back onto his front to start again. He really has accomplished… more than Washington honestly thought he’d actually do. Tucker’s still decidedly against the idea of doing any kind of training, sure, he’s going to have a different build than Washington. It doesn’t change that whatever training Tucker’s done (By force or extra force) has certainly brought him up to speed. Part of why Washington’s nerves aren’t as on-the-ball as usual – there’s still a lot to do, but Tucker’s been a comfort so far. He really hadn’t had to do much to begin with. Tucker has a durable body-type, sturdy and stocky, despite still keeping a sort of softness to it all. Sure he’s smaller than most military personnel, especially those in the canyon right now, but the Tucker’s years in the alien desert gave him an edge that most of the SIM troopers (And Freelancers) missed out on from years of rank-and-file.  Washington’s everything comes from basic and beyond. He’s ‘standard issue’. It’s not a bad thing, or shameful, it’s fine, it’s enough. But there are plenty of marines who look like Washington and only a handful that look like Tucker. He glances again. He’s short and his waist and legs are thicker than either of Washingtons’. What Tucker lacks in form or fashion he makes up for in durability and grounding. Tucker’s not moving unless he wants to; Washington found that out the hard way. He doesn’t have the detail that Washington has, but he’s still strong and the muscle he has is trained at least, and firm from consistent use (that knowledge was acquired in ways much less romantic or perverted than it sounds, it’s okay that he touched Tucker, it was only his arm and waist and it was for training, he reminds himself). Okay yes, there was softness to his belly, but it’s not that big of a deal if the rest of him is fine. To be honest, Washington thinks the soft, subtle sag is… charming. Actually charming, not like Tuckers usual definition of ‘charming’. A little too charming.  Scratch almost, he’s been looking at Tucker for… a lot longer than intended. That’s the marker for too charming, isn’t it? When you’ve stopped focusing on work to stare and think about how nice they look? Definitely too charming. “Hundred!” Tucker says loudly before dropping again. “A legit hundred too!” he takes a deep breath. “Before you start chewing my dick off about that.” And now he’s reverted back to ‘charming’. “Unless you were ‘counting’ then too.” “I was,” He lied. “Good job, Private. Take a minute to breathe.” “A minute?” “And then we’ll start squats. A hundred of them.” “What’s with you and a hundred of stuff?” Tucker gasps as he pushes onto his back. “A hundred push-ups, a hundred sit-ups, a hundred flexes of my sweet ass in your face-” “I’m going to assume that means squats.” “It means you watching me squat like you watched me do push-ups.” Washington swallows, grateful for the armor. “Even in my armor you can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?” He can hear the shitty, ear-to-ear grin in Tucker’s joke. “I mean, go right ahead, I like that shit, just lemmie know if the angle’s right for you.” End this. Now. Somehow. “You know what?” Washington starts. “You’re right; giving you a hundred every time is a bad pattern isn’t it?” He doesn’t need of an answer. “Let’s add another fifty.” “Aahhh, it’s fine,” Tucker starts with a nervous trill in his voice. “I can live with you ogling me for only a hundred.” “No, no, no. You have a point.” Washington jumps off the side, considering work wasn’t getting done anyway. Besides, he might as well keep a closer eye out for slacking off. That’s easier to do without the imminent reminder of a possible slow death malfunctioning right in front of him. “If I keep giving you a hundred it’ll become too easy to complain about.” “Very fuckin’ funny.”  “I’m serious, actually. Repetition without variation in the training will eventually cause the muscles to stagnate and bottom out. Think of this as a testament to all your hard work.” “I’m gunna come clean here and say I didn’t really finish those push-ups…”  “Don’t worry about those. Besides, you’ll need the energy for your hundred and fifty squats.” Tucker groans. “Your minute is up.” He says, holding out a hand for Tucker. Tucker looks at Washington for a beat, sitting up now and resting on his hands. He shifts to lean on the other hand, extends one and grabs Washington’s hand and let’s himself get- No. No, let’s Washington pull and pulls in return so Tucker stands and Washington finds himself very close to Tucker and leaning down with Tucker’s mouthpiece right next to Washington’s earpiece… “I mean it.” Tucker squeezes his hand. When did his voice get that low? “I like it when you look at me.” That…. Washington feels like his brain just scrambled for a second, he hopes to God that it was from malfunctioning neural implants and he’ll wake up in the base and not in this situation. And then, even lower still, “I want you to look at me.”  ….Oh shit. Ohhh no. Nooo, no, no, no, no. “You…” He swallows. “Aren’t funny.” Washington says because it’s the only thing he can think to say…. Or think at all. “Good,” Tucker’s grinning again, Washington can hear it, he can feel it. “I wasn’t joking.”  Washington should say something because this is getting uncomfortable and exciting all at once and frankly, he’s not trained to respond to this situation.  Buuuut, considering the most educated noise that came out of his mouth when he tried to speak was an amalgamation of vowels and mouth-shapes that resembled words the same way watery oatmeal does…. that might not be happening anytime soon. “Holy shit, Wash.” He chuckles like an evil asshole. “I didn’t even do anything yet.” Yet. “…Y’know what?” Tucker says. “Take a minute to breathe.” He cracks the shittiest, appealing smile. “You’re all worked up.”

#unfinished #red vs blue #tuckington #rvb #lavernius tucker #agent washington #not gunna finish #my writing

[sporksaber]

Since it's practically that time of year again, please share your favorite childhood holloween movies. I will go first. These arent in any particular order.

♡♡♡

First off, the one I was thinking about before posting, daddy I'm a zombie and its sequel mommy I'm a zombie. Please tell me other people remember it. It's a super wierd movie, the animation looks terrible, and I love it dearly.

While on the thought of wierd animation, scary godmother and scary godmother 2, revenge of Jimmy. I loved them so much and still watch it every year. The second isnt as good as the first, but is still really charming in it's own way.

The holloween town movies have to be on here. They dont really need an explanation as they were a disney staple. It's super wierd to watch on a tv now though, the quality is really blown out even without filling up the whole screen. I was genuinely tempted to fish out an old box tv from my garage.

The little vampire. It was one of my two all time favorites as a kid, I watched it every time it aired without fail. For that reason, my siblings hate it.

While on the subject of vampires, I feel like I should throw in all those wierd vampire movies from like 2009 to 2015. Mainly my babysitter's a vampire. Rory is still a mood.

Another favorite was mostly ghostly. I think it was on nick? I remembered the scene of the dog splitting open being horrifying as a kid, but when I rewatched it as a teenager I judged my younger self so hard. It was about as graphic as an Easter egg being popped open.

More rapid fire:

Spooky buddies

Casper

Paranorman and coraline.

Hocus pocus was obviously a classic and a yearly watch

Corpse bride and frankenweenie (I always watched nightmare before Christmas more around christmas than holloween)

The scooby doo movies (my favorite was ghoul school, another least favorite of my siblings)

Twitches

Billy and mandy great boogey adventure

Recess taking on the fifth grade (it counts)

The monster high movies

Monster house

Addams family and addams family values

And the curious george fall special, baby me loved that silly monkey. I will never be as at peace as I was watching it during library time in elementary school.

Theres probably more I dont remember at the moment, but this list is pretty long anyway.

#halloween #halloween town #scary godmother #the little vampire #mostly ghostly #daddy im a zombie #my other all time favorite as a kid was bedtime stories #i also rewatched it as a teenager #it didnt hold up that well but it held up enough that im hesitant to ruin it by watching as an adult

[mhmains]

Borderlands the pre sequel grinder recipes

#Borderlands the pre sequel grinder recipes mod

While I know that Order won't make you invincible, it should increase your effective health. Some don't die, some get second wind, but either way that is too fragile. when you seem them use the build, you see them dropping to 20% health over and over, nearly dying repeatedly. Even with the builds that people are claiming that you kill so fast your shield barely takes any damage. Those are fine up to a point, but I really hate dying so often or whatever. I've been running through a lot of youtube builds and almost everyone is going glass cannon builds. I'll do what I can with the shift codes that are listed around. Tying it to the double jump is just insult to injury, but I'll see if it causes me trouble or not.ĭoes anyone have words of wisdom or a link to good tips and tricks? One thing I really hate is getting a one of a kind gun too early so that it is useless later. I really don't like the O2 countdown, despite being able to refill it with ease (so far). I haven't gotten any level 60 DLC yet, depending on how much I enjoy the game will determine if I buy that. The best (offense/defense) is a good (defense/offense), so it is possible they are largely interchangeable. A good defense can keep you alive longer and a good offense often means fewer bullets per bad guy. On one hand I hate dying and on the other hand I hate running out of ammo. When just starting out, do you focus on Law and Order or Fan the Hammer first? I don't know how tough stuff is in the game, and it seems that Law and Order is mostly a defense tree and Fan the Hammer is mostly an offense tree. I even have my second skill point, which brings to mind my question: I've gotten my second OZ kit (the one that heals). I am starting with Nisha like I said from page 1 of this thread. So last night I plugged in my Logitech G13 and copied my key binds from BL2 and started up. I've had it installed, but wanted to finish off Dragon Age: Inquisition and Saints Row: Gat Out of Hell first. But it eats bosses like nothing else.Īnd what I use on Iwajiru with Double Penetrating 88 Fragnum. It isn't any good at stuff like the Holodome. So you better have a good fallback weapon of a different type. The good is that this gun/build puts out an unbelievable amount of damage. I will go screenshot my skill build in a bit. I think he was talking about my Double Penetrating 88 Fragnum. Then again the Hyperion low-acc until a few rounds have been fired is more detrimental to my playstyle.

#Borderlands the pre sequel grinder recipes mod

The biggest drawback is reload speed (which Nisha has a couple of skills and a class mod for) and the Jakobs' loss of accuracy upon rapid fire. What skills does Nisha have that would buff fire rate such that it's faster than you can press the mouse button? None of the other pistols I have empty their mag anywhere near as fast as my Jakobs'. My orange pistol isn't half as nice because of the way Jacobs doesn't really take advantage of your skills since you have to manually pull the trigger.

#Borderlands the pre sequel grinder recipes

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Broken Nomenclature

{{A sequel, of sorts, to this. Humanformers designed by Crim.}}

“Heard you hollered at the Sniper.”

Brainstorm rolled his eyes, huffing to move pale hair from in front of his eyes, “Yeah. I was tired of hearing about how hard things were for Mister Volunteer Service-”

“Volunteer? Thought you yelled at the Sniper.”

Brainstorm looked to Blaster, feeling an ice cube in the bottom of his stomach.

“Care to uh, care to clarify there, Mister Deejay?”, said Whirl, one eyebrow almost to his hairline.

Blaster winced, looking everywhere but Whirl’s face as he spoke, “...Look, lotta things changed when you got booted, alright? And, well. You know how the hazing can be and all that and uh... Well, y’see what had happened was-”

Brainstorm shot a hand out, catching the music dealer turned deathbringer by his collar with his... fear scrawled plainly over his face, “Stop. Dancing around here- I just full bodied shrieked at Percy that he was basically a whiny bitch because he keeps venting about his time in the Wreckers and I really CANNOT afford to be wrong right now!”

Blaster swallowed hard, “ Prowl ordered him. After Kup got... patched up or whatever clonin’ bullshit you did Prowl ordered him to run with us. He nearly died.”

“Yeah, yeah I KNOW that part-”

“We left him behind.”

One could feel the air thicken.

“We left him behind; Drift brought him back. He was... It was bad. He shouldn’tve survived but he did and he reclassed after three months of self training. And then Prowl wouldn’t let him leave.”

Whirl’s steel finger creaked as he loosed the fist they had curled into, “Bein’ a Wrecker is SUPPOSED to be a fuckin’ choice Blaster, Springer knew that-”

“....Springer lied. He lied about proximity sensors, it was obvious. He never alerted, and it was him and Kup who said to leave him.”

Brainstorm swallowed hard, hand going to his commpiece as a ping from Perceptor let him know the sniper scientist was in the shooting range for his break.

The chair nearly spun on its bearing with the speed at which he bolted, careening down halls and dodging daily duties until he near skidded to a stop. He chewed his lip, nearly swearing when his eternally awkward fanged teeth nipped too hard; and then entered his code for the door to hiss open.

Perceptor stood, surrounded on all sides by the doublethick bulletproof glass that encased the ends of every firing line. He stood stock still, rifle flashing every few seconds as he fired in regular intervals and Brainstorm glanced downrange to see only one bullet-hole in the target.

Then the flashing stopped, and he turned back to see Perceptor looking at him; looking him from head to toe before his good eye rolled and he turned away.

The rapid knocking on the locked entry made him jump, however, and Brainstorm’s hands continued to rap at it until it opened.

“Come to air more grievances? I believe I have made all the apologies I could-”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME-”

A twitch of a dark eyebrow, “Tell you what.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY PROWL FORCED YOU INTO THE WRECKERS, I NEVER WOULD HAVE SAID WHAT I DI-”

A finger over Brainstorm’s mouth.

The scientist blinked, surprised, at the almost tender action of the sniper; and he fell immediately silent as he tried to process. Unfortunately, that was the moment he realized Perceptor was speaking through gritted teeth and there was an unnerving twitch to the sniper’s bad eye.

“Yes, Brainstorm- you would have. I did not tell you when I came back because that is how classified information works; however... I have told you multiple times. But, as you previously stated, my ‘whining’ seemed to have... gotten on your nerves.”

Brainstorm wondered if that manic glint had always been possible, in a blind eye and through that reticule.

“And while I understand your trauma, your grief... I have a question for you too.”

“O-Oh?”

The finger moved away from Brainstorm’s lips- only for the hand to return and grab tightly around the scientist’s throat- surprising given their difference in height. The worst part was Perceptor being able to hoist his fellow scientist up enough to slam him back against the wall while he squeezed- peat-dark eye burning like hellfire as he spoke in a voice burned alive on an altar to cruelty.

“TELL ME, BRAINSTORM, WHAT’S IT LIKE BEING ABLE TO FUCKING RUN AWAY?!”

Brainstorm gagged, grabbing at Perceptor’s wrist as panic infused him in a way he hadn’t felt since his Awakening.

“TELL ME, GO ON! SO FULL OF ARROGANCE YOU CAN’T BEAR TO THINK THAT PERHAPS I SPOKE SO FRANKLY OF MY SERVICE WITH YOU FOR A REASON?! THAT YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE I COULD TRUST?!? THAT OF ALL PEOPLE YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE BLOODY SACRIFICED?!”

“P-Perc-ce I can’t-”

He was slung aside, bouncing over the floor and scrambling for the door and fumbling with the codes as he heard the sound of a pistol cocking.

“What’s it like, dearest lab associate-”, spat the sniper, the fire in his eye scorching over the spiderweb of scars that showed where one was lost, “Tell me what’s it like to grow your ribs and fucking innards under anesthesia?! Come now, little braggart, TELL ME WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE BANDAGED INSTEAD OF WATCHING YOUR OWN FUCKING HEART WRITHE-”

The door slid open only for Brainstorm to run full faced into Whirl; Whirl, who blinked in concern and then looked up to lock eyes with Perceptor and feel his mouth go dry.

“And you- little veto, warbird supreme!”, laughed the sniper, “Come to coddle your wreckerbait?! DO YOU THINK I DON’T REMEMBER THAT, YOU CYCLOPIAN ERROR IN GOD’S JUDGEMENT?!”

“Stormy, Storm we need to go, we need to go NOW-”

“I KNOW THAT!”

And that’s when the hallway went dark. The gunshot made them both jolt, and the emergency runners flickered on, underlighting the scars and highborn angles of Perceptor’s face.

“I opened up to you Brainstorm, out of trust. Out of understanding. Because you told me I could; that you would listen...”

The manic frost in Perceptor’s smile was haunting- hellish and brutal and like oil.

“But you just wanted the Old Me back, didn’t you? You wanted to be scolded and praised and told you were the very best.”

The reticule flickered, and Brainstorm felt Whirl push ahead to block the sniper’s line of sight.

“Percy, c’mon- Mistakes were made on both sides, yeah? Put. Put the gun down, this ain’t you-”

“Oh, oh but it IS, dear Whirl!”, laughed the sniper, “You of all people should know what’s left after a stint around G9. Ah, my mistake- Tantrum throwing asses like YOU get stuck in G1.”

The words hit like a death knell, and Brainstorm was frantic on his comms as Perceptor continued to advance. He looked up, peering around Whirl’s broad frame to see The Least Warlike of them all standing like the Grim Reaper whispered in his ear. The reticule flickered as the arm holding the pistol extended.

“Now. You will move, or I will fire- unlike Brainstorm there is no nostalgia attached to your existence. Makes it easy to make you disappear.”

Brainstorm felt like his ears were betraying him- how could the Percy he knew, the person he shared lab and laugh with... be hiding this kind of behavior behind a reticule and a clipped accent?

“Perce, c’mon. This ain’t you and we all know it.”

“You have ten seconds. And mind you- I owe him for trying to crack the weak side of my skull with a utility pole.”

::Drift to Brainstorm-you don’t usually comm, what’s crackin’?::

::DRIFT PLEASE I FUCKED UP I FUCKED UP AND PERCY’S GOING TO SHOOT WHIRL AND ME-::

Up on the bridge, Drift paused- it wasn’t uncommon for Brainstorm’s antics in the lab to earn a threat of bullets but it was never intentional- And then the alarms began to sound. Magnus sat bolt upright, pulling up security footage and swearing under his breath as Rodimus swore aloud.

Perceptor stood in full view, slowly lowering his pistol as Whirl tilted sideways, swatting at the electrical sparks firing from the now destroyed prosthetic on his left arm.

Drift ran, he felt the flat soles of his shoes seem to stop touching the floor as he ran under every flashing klaxon and screaming warning of shots fired. He hoped he wouldn’t end up being too late; he’d seen Perceptor like this before, watched him fall like this before.

He didn’t know if the sniper could come back if it took him over again.

Brainstorm blinked in shock, looking slowly from Whirl’s destroyed prosthetic to the now advancing sniper.

“You... You SHOT him-”

“I’ve done worse.”, was the nonchalant answer, “You were born into a bullet storm, Brainstorm. I was lured into one with the intent of never being allowed out. You of all people should understand.”

Brainstorm backed up a pace for every step forward Perceptor took.

“Perce, c’mon let’s... let’s just talk this out okay? Let’s just talk this out and clear the air- I’m sorry, I’m sorry I bottled everything up and took it out on y...you...”

“You stepped to my pistol barrel after accusing me of whining. Of ignoring your words, your experiences...”, said the sniper, flat and deadpan and cold and emotionless in ways Brainstorm had never seen, “And you had the GALL to physically attack me. And I held back, and I tried to understand where you came from.”

That dead stare- no feeling, nothing behind it but a warped sense of duty and old nightmares, “But it was never about me. It was all about your stupid, childish obsession with validation.”

A tilt of his head, and a slow blink, and Brainstorm tapped at his comm piece again.

“You never saw my suffering as SUFFERING. You saw it as a show. You weren’t mad that I spoke of it- you were mad that you couldn’t ONE-UP it; you insanctimonious and self centered GIT.”

The pistol raised, like it had when Brainstorm had come down with his brimstone words and stardust tears, “I have never been an equal to you in your eyes- merely a competitor in a rivalry I never agreed to or wanted. You will always see me as someTHING to overcome, never someone.”

A glanced from head to toe- Brainstorm felt like the sniper could see down to the threads of insecurities he no longer remembered and shivered in place as he felt his feet stop moving.

“Surprised Prowl didn’t recognize such a similarity between the pair of you- Maybe that’s why he put you on the Pretender Project with me.”

A finger tightens on a trigger at the same time a ventcover is kicked down and the crash makes the sniper turn on his heel-

“Thank fuckin’ God Skids-”

Whirl detached his overheating prosthetic and tossed it aside as Skids raised his hands amicably, inching towards Perceptor like a caged animal.

“Well what do we have here! Just the sniper I wanted t’see, I’ve been havin’ a helluva time with my sidearm and I just don’t know what’s going on with it-”

The pistol lowered just enough to show Perceptor blink in calm confusion before the real calvary arrived in the form of Drift barrelling through the door a few feet behind Brainstorm and charging forward to bowl the sniper over- Using a lifetime of hand to hand and fang to fang combat to his advantage and kicking away the pistols Perceptor had carried like an extension of himself for years upon years.

The sniper swore in Altihexian- vulgar and sharp and acidic against his normally composed voice and Brainstorm felt his knees shake before giving out and letting him drop in a heap on the floor. He looked over to Perceptor and jerked back at the absence of remorse in the sniper’s remaining eye.

“Once again saved by the bell- oh to have your LUCK.”

Drift hauled the sniper to his feet, Skids snapping cuffs around Perceptor’s wrists and both muttering something about the medibay and chemical restraints. Whirl looked over the dead prosthetic, swearing to himself before he sighed.

“...Stormy, I think we hand delivered a whole fuckin’ bouquet of whoopsie daisies.”

“He. He would’ve SHOT me-”

“I was wondering when he’d snap.”, continued Whirl, “...Maybe they’ll count it as the start of his three D’s.”

“His what?”

“Only way to leave the Wreckers. Dishonorable discharge, dementia , or death. Hopefully... Hopefully they’ll deem him unstable. Unfit for duty. Let him go.”

“Let him g- But he’s been retired from the Wreckers for YEARS Whirl.”

The ex-Wrecker himself laughed bitterly, unable to meet Brainstorm’s eyes, “No, he wasn’t. We aren’t. He was allowed to go home, for a while. Allowed to take a break but... He ain’t out. And if they clear him, he never will be, not till his heart stops again- for good this time.”

And in a single moment, Brainstorm realized just how cruel it had been- to accuse Perceptor of choosing the service that still bound him.

#humanformers #perceptor #brainstorm #pastelwrites

[fruitcoops]

did i miss something or when did Hestia tape loops’ face back together? i would read the heck outta that

Hello anon! One of my first fics was called Blood On the Ice, and it was about Remus getting injured in a game when he got hit in the face with a stick. It ended before I went into specifics about the recovery, so here’s a sequel to clarify! Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for blood, bruises, swelling, mentioned panic attack (previous fic)

“Easy, Loops,” Hestia murmured as she carefully taped the gash on his lip. He clenched his jaw to suppress a wince, but that just made it hurt more. His whole face throbbed with pain and he really couldn’t feel where she was touching him anymore—his left eye was completely swollen shut, and the right was on its way to join it.

“No concussion, right?” he managed around his puffy lip as she pulled away.

“Nope.”

“Didn’t think so.” Remus tentatively prodded his cheekbone and flinched at the swollen heat. “Oh, ouch.”

Hestia batted his hand away and handed him an ice pack. “Don’t poke it, dummy! You know better.”

“I do. Thanks.”

“Drink water. I’m going to get a snack and then load you up with tylenol, alright?”

“Sounds good.” His jaw was starting to ache from moving it so much, and he still tasted blood whenever his tongue touched his lips. The TV was too far away for him to make out much more than vague shapes, but the reddish blobs seemed to be doing well. “Are we winning?”

“Yep. Sirius is one away from a hat trick.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” Hestia pressed an open packet of goldfish into his palm. “You can still chew, right?”

“Yep. Teeth all feel fine, it’s just my…” He gestured to his general facial area and she laughed.

“Good to hear. Eat, you’ll feel better.”

He cracked a smile, or at least his best imitation of one. “Hey, that’s my line.”

Hestia kept a running commentary on the game like the absolute angel she was while he ate and took his medicine, then changed out his ice pack and made sure he didn’t accidentally fall off the PT table as he laid down. “If you wake up with anything more than a moderate headache, or if you start feeling nauseous, tell me immediately. No toughing this out, Remus.”

He gave her a look out of his less swollen eye. “Come on, H, I’m the last person—”

“You are the first person who would try to shake off a stick to the face.” She flicked him playfully on the shoulder. “I’m not falling for any of your bullshit.”

The relief was instant and magnificent as she guided the ice pack over the upper half of his face once again. “You are literally my favorite person ever.”

“That’s the tape and Tylenol talking. Take a nap. I’ll wake you when the game’s done.”

“No, you won’t.”

“True. You need rest, so go to sleep.”

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and settled back against the soft pillow, letting the rustling sounds of her moving around lull him into drowsiness. The smell of the PT room was familiar and comforting, if a bit different than before; he couldn’t smell much, though, so it may just have been in his head. Easy does it, Loops, he reminded himself. You’re going to be fine.

The panic attack had been embarrassing, to say the least. His shoulder was completely untouched, but the adrenaline and dull ache radiating through his head set his whole body on fire. His nose still pulsed with pain if he concentrated too hard.

But Hestia had been kind, and careful, and smart. She worked quickly, taping up the scrapes and his split lip before feeling for any breaks. She gave him another piece of gauze for his nose, though he didn’t really need it. First rule of PT: keep the patient’s mind off their injury. When he started hyperventilating again, she stopped working and held his hands until it passed.

Something warm laid heavy in his palm when he dragged himself back to the land of the living; his vision was still blocked out by the ice pack, but he could tell it was someone’s hand. “You’re the best PT,” he said, giving it a squeeze.

There was a low laugh. “I’d be a terrible PT.”

“Sirius? Hey!” Remus tried to smile, but stopped as soon as his face screeched in protest and the cut on his lip began to sting. It was at a horrible in-between point of numb and prickly still. “Hey, baby, did we win?”

“We did.”

“Did you get a hat trick?”

“No, I was one off.” He folded his other hand over Remus’ and rubbed his fingers gently. “You sound like you have a cold.”

“Just my nose. And cheeks. And everything else.” They both laughed and he waved toward his face. “Could you take the ice pack off? I wanna see you.”

Sirius paused. “There’s no ice pack, sweetheart. Your face is just really swollen.”

“Oh.”

“Did Hestia do a good job?”

“Of course she did,” Remus scoffed. “She’s Hestia.”

“True. Did you lose any teeth?”

“Not even one. My only badge of honor is a face full of bruises.”

“It’s quite the badge,” Sirius said under his breath. One of his hands disappeared and Remus felt something brush his cheek a moment later; he turned into it, pressing against the familiar warmth. “Can you get up? I think we should go home.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Sirius gently held on to his forearms as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Remus stumbled a bit when he stood, but Sirius was steady and pulled him close to his side.

“Alright, this way.”

“Is Hestia in here?” Vague shapes of light made their way into his vision.

“I’m over here,” she said, touching his elbow.

“You’re the best PT ever.”

“Thanks, Loops.” He could hear a smile in her voice and gave her hand a quick pat.

Two steps later, Sirius let go of him. Startled fear bolted through Remus; the world wasn’t much more than black and blobby colors, and while the floor was solid beneath his feet, he had no guide wall. “Sirius? Where’d you go?”

“Shit, sorry.” His hands returned to Remus’ arm and waist in a smudge of motion. “I was just opening the door.”

“Don’t let go, please,” he said quietly as they walked into the hall. He was tired, in pain, and completely disoriented—he didn’t want to be alone as well.

“Hey, Loops, how’re you—holy fuck.” Kasey. Rapid footsteps and a new blur of lighter colors came closer. “Shit, man, are you alright?”

“Never better.” There was a beat of silence and he sighed, reaching out to smack Kasey on the arm. “You guys can stop talking about me while I’m right here, you know. I’ll be fine in a couple days, tops.”

“You do realize half your face is taped together, right?”

“It’s not half­—”

“It’s enough,” Sirius and Kasey said in unison.

“Hestia said two weeks.” Sirius wrapped an arm further around his waist and began walking again. Not having peripheral vision was making Remus dizzy and he pressed a hand to Sirius’ chest.

“Slow down a bit, babes.”

“Sorry.” A door opened up ahead and he heard a few new voices whispering.

Remus sighed. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey,” James said tentatively, drawing out the word. “You okay?”

“If one more person asks that, I’m going to throw something,” Remus grumbled. “Yes, I’m fine, just bruised.”

“Do we need to go beat up that rookie?”

“Please don’t, I’m sure it was an accident.”

“Alright, drive safe.”

One, two, three, four hands landed on his shoulder as the group walked past, murmuring well-wishes and clearly sending Sirius looks. He caught a flash of red and some blond—Finn and Leo, and maybe Kasey if he hadn’t left. The last person was just a blob, but Remus didn’t have the brainpower to play ‘Guess Who’ with all the brunets on the team.

The cold of the outside world was a welcome reprieve; he took a deep breath and let the chill soothe his skin, lacing his fingers with Sirius’ as they crossed the parking lot. “Sorry I’m so slow,” he said as the car’s lock clicked.

“You don’t have to apologize, mon loup,” Sirius half-laughed. “I’m just glad you’re up and moving.”

He carefully buckled his seatbelt and leaned his head back in the seat. “I look like a mess, don’t I?”

“Pretty much. You’ll heal, though.”

“Thanks for being honest.” He fumbled a hand over the gearshift and rested it on Sirius’ thigh.

“Sugarcoating never helps. Do you want your ice pack?”

“You carried it?” Remus asked, surprised. Sirius turned his hand over and placed something cold in his palm. “Thank you.”

“Ne rien.” There was a shuffle, and then the soft brush of lips over his cheekbone.

“Kissing it better?” Remus teased, pressing the blessed cold against his eye.

“Always.”