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miyacults · 4 months

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red, blue and yellow lights.

( ft. satoru gojo. )

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does Suguru has it in him to ever deny you anything and make you behave? Satoru doesn’t have that much power over you. Yet. It’s the other way around entirely. Usually, you have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers… but this time isn’t usual at all.

> part 2.

wc: 4k (unedited im soreeey)

cw: fem reader (afab). only gojo action here but poly satosugu is super implied. +18, explicit content. smut. minors do not interact. slight age gap, reader is younger than both of them but not much and is not stated at all. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be careful!!! rough sex/rough satoru. manhandling. slight hints at dacryphilia. slight chocking. marking (one hickey). unprotected sex, p in v sex. little mention of blood. that should be all! enjoy <3

It was raining the first day it happened—sky practically crying at the sight of you three, already sinking down in the problems to come for such a reckless call. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest ones, so they know better and they pride themselves with this fact. They’re smarter than the rest, both devastatingly attractive, even more so than anyone could ever imagine and…simply superior. But the first time they didn’t knew better.

Or they didn’t care to.

The second time shouldn’t have occurred. They should’ve weighed into the idea of not stumbling upon the same rock again—but they did it nonetheless. How couldn’t they? When the rock herself got the touch of angels, the voice of the gods and a face made in heaven. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same.

And so the third and the fourth come, and suddenly they stop counting how many more times have they been opening the gates of hell for you three to freely wander—toying with the risk of losing it all, as sorcerers always do. Stumbling upon a path of no recovery, stranding themselves into a new kind of addiction capable of surpassing that of what power and glory and the god-like status they hold has been pumping their veins for a while now.

Satoru likes to share everything with Suguru. And Suguru likes to share everything with Satoru. Where one goes, the other follows. If Satoru likes it sweet, then Suguru deals with the bitterness, and if Suguru wants it that way, Satoru will pave it himself without a second thought. They’ve been complementing each other for so long, it was only natural for this to happen.

For you, to happen.

But even them have their own ways of becoming addicted to you.

“Please,” you’re saying—sobbing, actually, clenched teeth chirping, violent tremors ripping inside your chest, glimmering tears staining dainty features—and Satoru already feels the weight of guilt swallowing him whole. Tense lips press each other firmly in a straight line, azure eyes shutting together as lithe fingers ghost the overly sensitive skin of his neck. “Please, ‘Toru—”

“No.”

He needs you to shut up, fast.

The name—his name—is hanging dangerously at the tip of your tongue, too close to being spilled out loud, too close to make an even bigger mess than the one he’s already sitting himself on.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you’re murmuring now against his sealed lips, small cries leaving your mouth, basically straddling his lap as you desperately try to adjust yourself over the growing bulge in his pants—bare, tight little cunt fluttering at the small friction. “I’ll behave, please, just let me ride your cock for a little while, please.”

“Oh, sweets,” Satoru heaves an exasperated sigh through a low, nervous chuckle, hands running through snowy hair crystal clear gaze finally fixing on you. “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that? Suguru told me you were being a brat lately and I didn’t listen to him,”

He’s trying to play it off as best he can, sure, but this is adding up to his temper. His cock throbs painfully inside his trousers. He’s not even sure what time it is—maybe three, four in the morning? He doesn’t know. It’s quite hard to keep the track of time when you’re here to distract him of all the things he should be doing instead, when the blue cotton laced panties—the ones he gifted you like two weeks ago—that are supposed to be covering your greedy, insatiable pussy, are now stuffed in the pocket of his expensive, Tom Ford shirt.

It’s nearly impossible to focus when you’re rolling your hips, humping your needy clit and damping his pants with your juices, causing an unbearable explosion in his stomach, cock hard and full of precum you should be licking off of him.

You should be the one cleaning the mess, not him.

Satoru swallows dry, hands falling in a thump over the armchairs of the couch you’re both sitting at. It takes nearly all of his inhuman strength to keep them there, to not let them travel to the hem of your hiked up oversized shirt—Suguru’s shirt, if he recalls correctly—and place them over the heated flesh of your bare ass. It takes everything in him not to squeeze it, knead it, slap it until the skin is red and tender—an unique piece of art only he can make.

“Is that a yes?” You question eagerly, lashes fluttering and eyes sparkling in awe.

“No, baby.”

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does ever Suguru has it in him to deny you anything? How does he ever gets you to behave, to make you an obedient good girl? Suguru had you perfectly trained, bunch of rules memorized and practically burned into the tissues of your brain you could recite them in your sleep.

That didn’t stop Satoru from spoiling you rotten, so much it’s a difficult task to fuck the brat out of you every time you spend a few hours alone with him (as Suguru likes to say)—but even if baby gets whatever she asks for during her time with the white-haired man, when she is back with Suguru what Daddy says goes, instantly.

Because you’re just too perfect for them. The apple of their eyes, their pretty baby, perfection in all senses. It makes it easy for you to be awfully good, to sit prettily in Satoru’s lap all the time, spreading kisses all over his face as his enamoured sapphire eyes don’t leave yours—to sleep almost every night attached to Suguru’s chest as if he’s the incarnation of the oxygen you need to breathe.

But even with all of that—Satoru doesn’t have the same power over you, at least not yet. You have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers, manicured nails scratching him in what could be a tantrum. He’s incapable of dealing with you all alone, unable to resist your charms, he fails and falls for you hard. You make him sick, you push him off his highs with a mere, chaste kiss, you leave him hopeless to find a cure—pretty, colored sweets popping inside his mouth all tasting of you.

You’re the most powerful drug he has yet to fully taste, a completely new disease that infects his body, mind and soul, so corrosive it sets him on fire and turn his bones into ashes.

“But ‘T—,” you begin, and he has to cut you off immediately, preventing his name to touch your parted lips.

The name is the key—his name in your saccharine sweet tongue is what will lock him away in the gates of the hell you’ve helped create yourself.

“No,” he chastises now rather severely, unnaturally serious for someone like him, hoarse voice sticking at his dry throat. He glances at you firmly as he feels too sober to maintain his posture, hands still refusing to touch you and lips moving away from yours by an inch. “Did you forget how grounded you are, silly baby?” He scoffs, sardonic grin breaking his rather angelic features and turning him into something darker.

You frown.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,”

“You did,”

“I did not”

“Oh, but you are,” Satoru’s tone falls an octave, and suddenly you shiver. You’ve heard about it a couple of times in the past—Suguru has mentioned how, from time to time, those heavenly features of him darken, but to you, that sounds so out of character. ‘Toru is bubbly and jolly and he likes to teased and he even has sweets for dinner with you. To you, that can’t be fully true, right?

His tense muscles relax a little, just a little, as his gaze is dangerously fixed on you. Salty tears wither in your lashes and your cheeks, swollen lips now pouting at him for his harsh accusation and his cold tone. “‘Cause you’ve been naughty, baby, haven’t you?” He insists.

Something definitely shifts, but you notice it. It goes from his flaming eyes to the icy touch, to the calm breathing—previously heavy—, to the devious smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

And you think about what it has been.

Usually, Satoru would have fallen by now. Usually, he would have been already caging you between the couch and his body, pounding into you and brushing your cervix with the head of his thick cock, slapping at your ass, pinching your tits and biting your lips until they’re swollen and bruised. Usually, he would have been chanting about how good you feel, how insane you drive him, how weak he is to you.

Usually, by this time, things would’ve been getting to an end. Suguru would have entered the living room of the big house they both own, would have probably lifted you like a ragdoll out of Satoru’s lap and would have scolded you for your little tricks, for seeking such a lewd activity when you’ve been recovering from the flu, for coaxing the Strongest into your desires. Usually, Satoru would have been scolded too by his best friend, and you would have cried his name while being carried into the bed where you most definitely would have got lectured for your little shenanigans.

But this isn’t usual at all.

“N-No,” you murmur, bleary-eyed gaze blinking at Satoru.

“You sure?”

You don’t know. Are you? Are you really sure you haven’t been naughty? You shouldn’t be chided for anything by Satoru, right? Because Suguru’s been in a really good mood lately, he even peppered you with kisses before bed, tugged you in with his favorite blanket before laying by your side, and before that he made you dinner and watched an episode of the show you’re currently catching on with you while eating together.

“Are—,” you begin, and for some reason you stumble on your words, unsure about how to proceed. Being talked to like that by Satoru was so strange, he never chastised, about anything, ever. All of a sudden you don’t feel so bold anymore, you’re not quite certain you’ll get away with yours this time—and suddenly, Satoru’s touch doesn’t feel warm, his arms no longer being your favorite, cozy shelter, transforming into something icy, devious, darker. “A–Are you mad at me, babe?”

“Oh yeah, babe,” He repeats slowly, slender fingers finding your thighs, adjusting his grasp on you for the first time, hands pressing your skin with a little bit more of force than needed. “You call me babe a lot, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You blink at him, head lolling to the side briefly. Little mewl of surprise scaping your lips due to how strong he’s gripping your thighs—pads digging the flesh and all.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I do. Trust me, I do,”

“You want me to call you something else?”

He finds it amusing. The way your features crinkle in confusion, genuinely concerned for what he’s saying. It’s nice, he thinks, since he’s usually the one that’s dotting on you all the time—while you dot on your Daddy all the time.

“What is it that you call Suguru, sweetheart?” He asks almost conversationally, nose caressing your cheek delicately.

“Uh–huh,” you try to shift on his lap, backing a little from him, but Satoru catches you almost instantly—pushing your face against his torso forcefully. “He’s my Daddy,” you end up answering, voice a little muffled by his cashmere shirt.

And he yanks you up without notice, and you whine at the sudden movement.

“Mean” you scoff, the base of your hair being found by his ivory fingers. He catches the strands between them and tugs a little. “So mean!”

“Oh, I’m mean, I’m super mean,” he agrees with a devilish smile spreading from the tip of his lips to his full face. “But you know what you are? An ungrateful brat. And do you know what happens to spoiled, rude and ungrateful brats? They get punished by their daddies,”

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t get a chance to as he lifts both of you up from the couch and pushes you over the marble counter of the kitchen, whole body against the cold, solid surface. The action alone knocks a little cry from your chest, glistening tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. And he coos at the sight, he mocks you, looks and talks to you in such a patronizing way you’re complaining about how he can’t scold you, that he’s not Suguru.

“You’re not my D—,”

“Go on, finish that sentence, I dare you,” he warns, azure eyes going completely dark as he hovers over you, steady hands ripping you off of Suguru’s shirt. “I’ll make sure you’re not able to sit straight for a month,”

This time, you’re the one that swallows dry.

And, oh, the way your heart pounds violently inside your rip cage. The way your cunt throbs at the mere image of Satoru stripping himself off his clothes and his dreamy blue eyes don’t move an inch from you, the way your tummy flutters and heat descends all over your now naked body in awe—eagerly expecting his touch, awaiting for him, wanting him to take his way and completely obliterate you.

It’s exciting to push the boundaries a little, test the limits of what’s known and jump into the void. It’s dangerous—with Satoru, it’s unbelievably deadly—, but it sends sparks through your veins. It makes your heart roll, makes you want him even more than before.

You sniff, remnants of tears drying your heated cheeks and little squeals still rumbling through your throat.

“Aw, made our sweet princess cry,” Satoru coos at you, freeing his cock out of his trousers—and it’s worth drooling for, in all honesty, with his rosy pink shade and his angry blushed tip, with his irregularly large violet-like veins adorning both sides, and specially with the dim precum that shines beautifully under the kitchen lights.

He gives it a few pumps, and you can’t help but make grabby hands at him—whiny pout morphing your lips as the sobs return, but this time far from covering up the pain, tears now cracking neediness.

“I want you,” you hiccup as he gets closer, grabbing his shoulders as he positions himself over you.

And you feel him, ghosting the tip of his throbbing cock at your little hole, cold digits caressing your breasts—thumbs rolling your nipples and stealing a soft moan from your lips that Satoru catches quickly with his mouth, merging the two of you in a harsh kiss.

“Mhm,” he’s saying and you yelp, teeth biting at your swell and it’s rough, salty, streaks of crimson with a taste of iron coating him. “Now you want me? But I don’t think you deserve it at all,”

“‘Toru—,”

One slap, straight to your thigh.

“That’s not my name, is it?”

You’ve never felt this kind of exciting fire with him before. It had never been so…primal, so needy, so desperate, entire body jolting in anticipation and tummy in knots out of anticipation. It makes your heart vibrate rapidly behind the ribs, mouth practically watering at the sight of him spiraling in such a state because of you.

“You’re not gonna say it?” He insists, tongue catching your nipple. It’s cold and it sends shivers down your spine, provoking delicious shrieks that resonate in his ears and make his blood run faster. He drives the tip of his cock from the entrance, collecting all your juices and directing it to your puffy clit, all to start circling around the bud—one, two, three, four and more times in a nonstop motion.

It’s has you on edge, really. Body trembling and mind going hazy—all the previous lazy dry humping finally getting to your nerves, pussy clenching the air and hot breath colliding viciously against the lanky man.

“Please,” you beg, quivering under his touch. “Please, ‘Toru, I need you,”

“Not my name, sweet thing,” he sighs in a disappointed tone and, for a moment, you think he actually sounds sorry to prolongue this. But you know he isn’t. Not even close, not even a little bit. “Use the right word and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum tonight,”

The word is there, truth be told, dancing curiously at the insides of your mouth, gagging you up and completely searing his whole name.

It’ll just take a little push to make it go out.

“I—I,”

“Say it,” his hand runs to your neck, fingers wrapping around it and mouth printing an obscure mark to your chin—sucking violently at the skin, a combination of gritted teeth and bloodied lips.

He doesn’t stop the movements of his cock on your clit for a second, and you know he’s starting to get too sensitive himself—cracked groans rumbling from his chest, sloppy hips rolling and nearly slipping inside of your cunt once and for all. Your blood rushes to your ears, eyes shutting close as a new sobs rip through parted lips and delicated nails scratch the skin of his broad shoulders. Heat builds in your belly and you know you’re close—so close to cumming around nothing, merely by the fast friction of his throbbing cock over your clit.

And he notices it at the same you do, so he pulls out and flips you over the marble counter before you can reflect on what he’s doing.

“N–No! Sator—,”

“How empty is that pretty little head of yours, uh?” Condescending. His voice his painfully condescending, and so is his touch, so are his hands smacking your ass as the side of your face hits the counter. “You’re not cumming until you say the word,”

It’s a simple word, four letters that you have to spill, wrap your skilled tongue around it and push it through your swollen lips and into his ears. That is all you have to do. So you do.

“Daddy!” You finally yelp, vocal chords shaking the word out like a quake. It’s pathetic, even, how five simple letters merge into cries, becoming an incoherent mess that all can do is say it repeatedly. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. The name buries deeply in his ears and finds a home in the roots of his heart, forcing an explosion of something he can’t quite describe onto his veins. It reduces him to ashes, it revolves everything in his mind and suddenly—suddenly he’s back in control, suddenly he’s not a wandering dog anymore begging go you, suddenly he doesn’t turn into pieces for you to pick up.

Still, you drive him insane. Still, he’s weak to you. But you’re no longer in control and that fuels him like nothing will ever do.

And all your babbling keeps you from catching on his moves until he’s already sinking in your cunt roughly. You sob at the intrusion, pain exploding in your stomach and ache consuming you by the burning stretch.

“S-So good, baby, my baby is so good,” is all he grunts out, pressing his forehead into the back of your head.

He fucks you raw, more than he has ever done before. He fucks you so hard your limbs go numb and the only thing that stays clearly in your mind is that he’s also your Daddy now. He thrusts his hips into yours intensely, so much he basically has you bouncing the marble, and you scream so much it wouldn’t be a surprise if Suguru runs out of the room to make sure no one is slaughtering you, their sweet little princess.

It doesn’t take much after that for you to let go, with body and cervix bruised by his hands and cock, cumming within minutes of hips thrusting into your tiny hole. And he fucks you full of his cum, too. Too many times for you to properly remember the exact number, too much that you feel it dripping from your cunt, all over your thighs and into the counter—marble stained with the sticky substance. And he doesn’t stop at that, either, not until your face, your breasts, your belly and both your holes are so full of his cum you’re close to drooling it, too.

.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.

“You left a whole damn hickey on her face, dude,” Suguru’s snickering and he sounds so grumpy as he checks out your sleeping figure curled around his torso, sulky eyes finding the ones of his best friend to recrminate not so silently. “I’m not even that sure is a hickey. That looks like a goddamn punch straight to the jaw,” He then glances down at Satoru, who leans against the wall of the living room, eyebrows raised and lips chopping mindlessly around a cigarette. “Did you punched my baby?”

“Shut up,” Satoru snorts, crystal eyes rolling in annoyance. “Aren’t ya seeing that smile on her face? She’s sleeping like a baby, thanks to me. And she finally has some respect for me, so, we both win,”

“Pretty sure she had things to do early today,” Suguru mumbles, one hand holding the cigarette and the other mindlessly caressing your back above the shirt—Satoru’s shirt now—that covers your frame. “And in the afternoon, too. Guess we gotta let her sleep,”

“Agree,” Satoru walks to both of you, a shit eating grin flashing his features. “Let her rest and gain some energy. She’ll need it to give a warm morning to her favorite Daddy,”

And Suguru has something to say about that—because he’s sure his the favorite Daddy. But now Satoru thinks the same, too.

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kaiijo · 6 months

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ALL WRAPPED UP — PORTGAS D. ACE

pairing: portgas d. ace x gn! reader content: canon-typical depictions of injury and blood notes: after months of obsession, finally a one piece post

Your eyes drift to the open ocean again, watching the horizon with a hawk-like awareness. You shouldn’t be this distracted, not when you need to be formulating a strategy to propose to Whitebeard and the rest of the Division Commanders.

“You know he’s going to be fine,” Marco reminds you for what feels like the millionth time, giving you that same, knowing look.

You nod back. “Yeah, I do,” you reply but you can hear the tightness in your tone and the voice in your head reminds you that he’s been gone three days longer than expected.

You know that Ace is one of the strongest members of the crew; it’s the reason Whitebeard promoted him so quickly to Division Commander, the reason your captain sends him on solo missions often. It certainly doesn’t hurt that he has the power of the Flame-Flame fruit, but even the strongest of pirates have been beaten — Gol D. Roger being a perfect example.

You see a dot in the distance, which grows bigger as it draws closer. You hope it’s Ace but you put your crewmates on alert, just in case. To your utter relief, you recognize the yellow of Ace’s Striker but the relief is short-lived as he comes into focus. He’s gripping the boat’s mast, cuts and dark bruises marring his tanned skin. You don’t think twice as you jump off the side of the Moby Dick, landing steadily on the bow of the Striker.

Ace shoots you a signature lopsided smile, though it’s a bit pinched. “Don’t think you asked permission to board.”

You sigh and roll your fondly, trying to quell your racing heart as you slip an arm around his shoulders. His own arm drapes across your shoulders as the crew hoists the two of you up. With a cursory glance over him, Marco says, “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

Ace untangles himself from you as soon as his feet land on the deck. “I’m fine, Doc,” he says. The way he stumbles a little as he tries to right himself and the blood slowly dripping from the deepest laceration at his shoulder doesn’t help his case.

Marco levels him with a stern look and a firm grasp on his uninjured shoulder, both of which make Ace sigh in acquiescence and follow Marco down into the ship. You chew on your lip, about to follow, but Thatch says, “Let Marco work. We’ve got a Division meeting. Check on Ace after.”

You glance one more time at the way the two men left before following Thatch to the captain’s quarters.

You’re hurrying down the steps towards the infirmary as soon as the meeting ends. You’re not even really sure what you all discussed. You can only assume it’s something about swords and cannons and the Marines, and you’ll get Thatch or Izou to catch you up on it later but you have more pressing concerns right now.

You nearly collide with Marco in your rush. “Sorry,” you say breathlessly. “How is he?”

Marco peers down at you through his glasses, half-amused, and answers, “Good. He’s been whining about not seeing you and it’s my duty to keep patients happy. So…” He slides over and you open the door.

Ace is wrapped in gauze and bandages, reclined grumpily in one of the infirmary beds. His face lights up when he sees you and he tries to sit up, wincing when he does. “Don’t get up,” you say, pulling the chair that is next to his bed closer to it. You adjust the pillow and unconsciously reach up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. They follow your motion and when you realize that he’s now staring at your face, you quickly drop your hand.

There are so many questions racing through your head but the first, and most logical, one is: “What happened?”

Ace groans and huffs, “Got ambushed. Thought I was finished collecting intel and let my guard down a little too early.” When he sees you studying the dressing Marco wrapped around him, he nudges you with his elbow. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

It makes you laugh a little and in turn, Ace’s smile grows wider. “You know,” he says, leaning close. You hold your breath as he puts his face only an inch or two away from yours. “I’ve always heard that a kiss makes everything hurt less.”

He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, a mischievous glint shining in his dark eyes. You gulp down the knot that has formed in your stomach and your cheeks are on fire. He smells like sea salt and the open sky. You can count every freckle that dots his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Ace’s smile falters when you don’t answer and he jerks back, stumbling over his words. “It’s no pressure or anything! It’s just something I’ve—”

Plucking up all your courage, you shift forward and move quickly so you don’t lose your nerve. Gently, you let your lips brush against the worst of his injuries: the cut in his right shoulder. You draw away swiftly and when you survey his face, you push down the pleasant warmth in your belly at the way his face goes red.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes #one piece x reader #op x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #one piece fic #one piece imagines #one piece ace #one piece

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kitten4sannie · 1 year

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19 - ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ - ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ꜱᴀɴ

ꜱʜᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴄᴀʀɪɴɢ

pairing: vampire! yunho x witch! reader (fem) x werewolf! san

genre: fantasy au, smut, a little baby pinch of humor 🤏🏼

summary: you teach your bickering boyfriends to get along with a fun group activity.

w.c: 3.5k

warnings: poly relationship (it’s a work in progress), mxm, dom! yunho, dom! san, sub! reader, olfactophilia, pet names, name calling, degradation, praise, lots of spit involved (surprise, surprise), oral (receiving), breeding kink, slight bulge kink, fingering, kissing, double penetration in both holes (unprotected), creampies

a/n: after i finished typing this up it was like niagara falls in this bitch 😵‍💫 jshdgdhd so it’s safe to say i might’ve actually gone insane this time <3

FFF Masterlist

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

As a witch attending a magic academy, it was only natural that you’d encounter supernatural beings of all kinds. Ones that were bigger and stronger than you. More powerful and a lot more equipped when it came to spell casting. Despite this, you felt like you knew enough about the dark arts to take care of yourself. Whether it came to emotional conflict or actual threats of danger, you could handle it without issues. Though things became difficult in a way you never anticipated.

Halfway through the semester, you decided to open yourself up to two new lovers, ones that were having a hard time getting along — though it was sort of expected. One was a ravenous, moody werewolf and the other was a haughty, refined vampire. They were like night and day. Their clans were mortal enemies, only tolerating each other because they weren't allowed to break the strict laws that were enforced throughout the land, or else they faced governmental punishment. Maybe you didn’t think it all the way through, but then again, you were happy and so were they, but they just needed a little help adjusting to each other.

Lazing around in the unmade bed of your rowdy, rambunctious boyfriend, you buried your face into one of his pillows, inhaling his comforting scent. Strong accents of warm spiced cinnamon entered your system, along with the musky-sweet smell of leaves. He must’ve been rolling around in the woods near the academy again. How cute of him. You slowly turned over to look at the door when you heard a voice that was too light and sultry to be his.

“There you are, Darling.” Yunho sighed, stepping past the open dorm door, taking three large strides across the room, already near your side and running his long, cold fingers up the side of your bare figure. “Why are you at this clan’s house instead of mine?” His nose scrunched up for a second, not used to the musk of werewolf dens. “You said that you were coming to see me today.”

“Hey, Yunnie.” When he sat down on the bed, you reached up to run your fingers up his perfectly ironed, gold-laced button up blazer, unbuttoning the first button to see his chest peak out underneath. “I was going to, but San wanted me to stay longer. He just had a collar delivered, and he wanted me to see it.”

Yunho’s friendly disposition soured at the mention of the werewolf, watching you unbutton the second and third button on his top, but not acknowledging it. “Once that mutt is done with his little show and tell, you’ll come to my dorm so I can have you to myself, alright?”

“You have to learn to share, baby...” Just as you were going to express your disapproval of the word ‘mutt’, someone beat you to it.

“Mutt?” San stood in the doorway, his large canines already on display for Yunho to see. Not wasting a single second, he slammed the door behind him, pounced on the bed behind you and pulled your body back against his broad bare chest, his muscular arms wrapping protectively around you. “You come into my clan’s home unannounced looking like an undead Englishman, insult me, then you try to steal my Y/N? Are you trying to die?!”

“Undead Englishman? This is made of the finest material a dog like you could only dream of wearing.” Yunho scoffed, rolling his bright crimson eyes at the other male, still not saying anything when you continued to unbutton his blazer.

“Call me a dog again,” San threatened in a raspy voice, leaning over your naked body to growl in Yunho’s face, his golden irises forming into slits. “Say it so I can see if you can still talk after I rip your vocal cords out of your throat.”

Wanting to prevent a catastrophic fight from breaking out, you reached up towards San, playing with the shiny new leather collar that adorned his freckled neck. “Sannie, this is so cute! You look so handsome with your new collar~”

San’s large black ears flattened slightly into his wild raven hair, his anger melting away within seconds. “Handsome?” he questioned, slowly lowering himself onto the bed, his half-clothed body pressing into yours, nuzzling your neck with the side of his head. “Do you really mean that?

You ran your fingers through his hair, stroking the tip of one of his ears, causing him to let out a low whine, his tail wagging a bit. “Of course, silly…You’re my very handsome boy~”

“Yay,” San murmured softly, a light blush forming on his angular cheekbones, his fluffy tail wrapping around one of your thighs. “I’m Y/N’s handsome boy, Yunho. Not you.” He stuck his tongue out at the vampire, ears twitching slightly, feeling more playful than bloodthirsty.

“Sannie, baby, Yunho’s handsome too. Try to get along with him, okay? Can you do that for me?” you asked in a gentle voice, pressing your lips to San’s neck just above the collar and stroking his velvety tail, making him nod and whine again, sounding more needy.

Yunho chuckled, taking one of your hands and running his thumb over your knuckles. “That’s all it takes, huh? What a simple creature.”

You turned your head to shoot the vampire a fiery look, gritting your teeth. “Yunho, don’t start that up. Or else.”

“Or else, what, my lovely plaything?” the vampire asked in a low tone, undoing the last button on his blazer and sliding it off, his chiseled porcelain body now on display.

“I’m surprised he’s not sparkling like in that one movie you showed me a couple weeks back,” San murmured into your ear, making you hold a finger up to his lips to shush him.

Not caring to listen to the werewolf’s comment, Yunho laid down on the bed to press himself against your bare backside, his half-hard cock against your ass and his lips near your ear. “Or else what, princess? Or else you won’t let me fuck you until you’re too dick-drunk to function?” He feigned a small pout, nudging your neck with his nose and running his fangs across it, trying to ignore how much San marked you that particular night. “I thought you loved that.”

Taking notice of Yunho’s scent, which was giving off strong notes of oak aged vanilla, with small hints of citrus, you licked your lips and slowly exhaled when he just barely punctured your neck with his fangs. You didn’t bother stopping him from sliding a hand past your hip and in between your legs, allowing him to brush his fingers over your clit. “If you don’t stop being mean to San, I’ll put a spell on you that’ll make you hard forever…”

“Mm, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Darling?” he returned, licking the blood that dribbled from your neck, causally slapping San’s hand away when he tried to play with your pussy as well, causing him to growl. “You’d let me fuck you day in and day out, wouldn’t you?”

Leaning your head back and turning Yunho’s jaw to face you, you pressed kisses along his jaw, replying, “Only if you learn to share your plaything.” When he licked his lips, you grabbed the vampire’s hand to keep it still, allowing San to slip two large fingers inside you to scissor them apart, then quickly pump them in and out. “Yeah, that’s it, Sannie, just like that. Good boyyyy,” you addressed your other boyfriend, giggling at the werewolf’s toothy grin, his tail thumping against the mattress from your praise. Acknowledging Yunho’s twitching fingers, you let his hand go, looking down to watch their hands begin to work in tandem with one another, supplying you an intoxicating amount of pleasure.

With your lower half lifted up into the air with your left leg hiked up over one of San’s solid shoulders, he rubbed and grabbed at your hickey-covered ass, sucking and licking at the bottom half of your slick cunt from in front of you. “Mmn, Y/N, so sweet…” he mumbled against your mound, slowly slurping up your arousal and spitting it back out, then moving the dripping mess around with his fingers. With his back towards you, Yunho sat on his knees facing San, clutching the inside of your other thigh and keeping it out of his way, his mouth latched onto you, swiping at your throbbing clit with his long forked tongue.

“F-uuuck, that feels good,” you breathed out, grabbing and pulling at the sheets, barely able to handle the visual of Yunho and San both lapping at your cunt, the vampire administering longer, steadier strokes with his tongue, which was quite different from the way the werewolf was licking your soaked folds and salivating on your slit like you were a juicy steak he was about to devour. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum, baby,” they answered in unison, their voices low and gravelly, both consumed with their lust for you, not even caring when their tongues began to overlap. Yunho glanced up at San, his wide tongue spreading out over the expanse of your cunt, swiping from your clit down to your pulsing hole. Eyes narrowed, San pushed two fingers inside you to make you feel full, rubbing your g-spot in a way that made you cry out desperately from the intense pleasure. “Cumming! I’m cumming…!” you yelled out, tears stinging the corners of your eyes from how overstimulated you were becoming. San pulled his creamy fingers out of you, but continued licking your cunt to collect your cum, until his tongue started to drag up and down Yunho’s, their spit mixing together with the influx of arousal.

“Give me,” the vampire mumbled, grabbing the werewolf’s hand and bringing it to his mouth to lick the thick strings of cum and spit from his spread fingers. San watched with glazed-over eyes, leaning in to lick at his own fingers as well, their tongues entwining now and then. Yunho slurped the mixed fluids up into his mouth and grabbed San by the jaw, spitting it onto his tongue. “You like that, huh?” the vampire questioned, chuckling when San nodded, watching with interest as the werewolf started to let a thick wad of spit drip down his chin, encouraging Yunho to lap it up and swallow it down.

You whimpered softly from what was occurring in front of you. Not only was it the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life, it felt almost orgasmic to witness your boyfriends finally getting along in such a filthy way.

Once they were both satisfied, they simultaneously licked their lips and pulled out their heavy, throbbing cocks from the confines of their pants. They had a stare-down for a while, ravenous and thirsty for you, wanting to bury themselves deep inside your cunt as quickly as possible. Yunho spoke up first, claiming, “I made her cum when I sucked on her clit, so I should get to fuck her first.”

San shook his head, countering, “She came once I finger-fucked her, so it’s actually my turn.”

Yunho peered at the werewolf, about to argue with him when you interrupted him, “Just fuck me at the same time. It’s not that serious.”

Never considering that to be a solution, Yunho and San exchanged glances, their glistening lips forming perverse smiles. “I’ll fuck her tight little ass and you’ll fuck her pretty cunt?” Yunho suggested, reaching out to shake San’s hand. San nodded his head adamantly, clutching the vampire’s hand and giving it a firm shake, the both of them sharing a series of delighted chuckles.

No matter what background they were from, men were kind of odd. Oh well, at least they weren’t fighting anymore. Instead, they were about to work together so that they could stuff themselves inside you. Team work. We love to see it.

Growling and making guttural noises from his collared throat, San shoved his cock as deep into your cunt as he possibly could, wanting to ensure that he would fill you up with his pups one day. “Gonna breed you, baby…Gonna make you a mommy,” the werewolf huffed out, drool leaking past his lips, angling his head downward, his eyes zoning in on the faint outline of his cock being forced in and out of your lower stomach.

“Sounds good, Sannie,” you moaned out, barely able to get a deep breath in from being sandwiched in between the large men, laying on your side on the warm mattress, thankful that Yunho was holding your right thigh up from behind you, his cock sliding in and out of your other hole. You felt a piercing sensation on your collarbone, knowing Yunho was taking a healthy portion of your life source.

"So sweet...my Darling, your blood..." Yunho mumbled against your skin, licking and sucking at the bruising skin, unable to keep his breathing under control. "God, you drive me crazy. I just-"

San's loud growls and groans interrupted the vampire's train of thought, making him grow irritated. San had his head leaned down over your chest, eagerly sucking your tits into his mouth one at a time, nibbling, licking, and slobbering all over them.

Disgusted, Yunho scowled across your shoulder at San, questioning harshly, “Why do you always have to make such a mess all the time? Dumb dog.”

San pursed his lips and let out a few long strings of spit onto your shiny tits, his golden eyes narrowing at Yunho’s crimson ones. “Because she loves it, onion boy.”

Yunho bared his blood-stained fangs at San, growling, “Onion boy?! That’s literally an old wive’s tale, you absolute d–”

They were both fully sheathed inside your holes, pumping themselves into you over and over again and they couldn't stop arguing even for a moment? How rude. Trying to focus on how heavy and warm your lower half was beginning to feel, your arousal coating the both of their moving cocks, you huffed dramatically, injecting, “Jesus Christ, will you two just fucking focus?”

Rolling his eyes, Yunho started sucking on your neck again, quietly sipping on your blood, still pounding his cock steadily into your ass. Hearing the loud, whiny-sounding moans you were letting out, he chuckled to himself, asking huskily, “You’re such a dirty little witch, aren’t you? Is one cock not enough for you now? You need two now just to cum?”

San nodded his head in agreement, his shaggy black hair bouncing along with his movements, unable to respond verbally, too concentrated on making sure his pre-cum was reaching your womb, desperately wanting to fill you with his kin.

Personally, you didn't want to admit that you were a slutty little witch, in desperate need of being filled by your boyfriends as much as humanly possible. So, you simply shook your head, exhaling, "No...that's not it...It's so you two can finally get along..."

Yunho dragged his tongue up your neck to your jaw, nipping at it, grabbing your ass roughly and sighing into your ear, “Darling, you say that you’re doing this so that I get along with San, but you really just wanted both of your slutty little holes to be filled up at once, huh?”

Inhaling sharply at the sensation of both Yunho and San slowing down their thrusts, allowing you to feel every inch of them rubbing against your slick, plush walls, you searched for an excuse inside your clouded mind. “This is a bonding experience for you two, so you can finally stop–unnh–bickering,” you argued back, leaning your head back on Yunho’s collarbone, panting heavily. “How does it feel being cock to cock with my Sannie? Tell me, Yunnie.”

Leaning his head back, San let out a small howl, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation. Not only was he able to mark you with his scent, and pump his cock into your breeding hole, but he was also able to hear you call him yours. It felt so good, so good he started to drool again.

Blushing, Yunho pressed his cold sweaty cheek onto yours, glancing over at San, not wanting to admit that it felt good when their cocks rubbed against one another. “It could feel worse, I guess.”

San snapped out of his daze to growl, “Liar. I can feel your stupid, undead cock throbbing against mine!”

Yunho blushed harder, the color now reaching his pointed ears. “That’s because I’m inside my Darling’s tight little hole, you dumb m–”

“That’s enough!” you shouted, reaching back to grab the back of Yunho’s head and leaning forward into San’s chest, pushing his head in the opposite direction, now sandwiched tightly between one extremely cool body and one that was radiating heat off of it like it was the surface of the sun. “Kiss and make up, or else I’ll recite a spell that’ll turn the both of you into vibrators.”

It took a few seconds for the both of them to internally admit to themselves that they found each other to be extremely attractive, despite their differences. San made the first move, having to squish you against his large upper half to press his lips onto Yunho's, already swiping his tongue across the vampire's lower lip. One heated kiss led to another, and soon enough, San was lapping at Yunho’s tongue and sucking on it, his drool dripping down onto your face below. Yunho groaned periodically, his cock throbbing heavily inside you, eventually grabbing San’s face to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue inside and moving it around to assert his dominance.

You almost felt like you were under a spell yourself, watching their tongues and lips meet in a fervid manner, noticing how they occasionally used their fangs to bite at each other’s swollen lips, their mixed saliva dripping onto your flushed face now and then. “Kiss me too…” you eventually whispered to the both of them, watching them slowly split apart, the hatred in their eyes gone and instead filled with intrepid lust.

Without hesitation, San slotted his lips onto yours, moaning into your mouth, his ears flattening down. It's desperate, full of passion and need, his teeth clinking against yours from how fast he’s moving his mouth against yours.

You could barely handle how much pleasure you were feeling, your cunt pulsing and dripping so much slick, you were surprised either of your boyfriends could even stay inside. "Gonna cum..." you moaned into San's mouth, tears forming inside the corners of your eyes.

Yunho suddenly grabbed your chin and moved it towards him, kissing you in a more deliberate manner, allowing you to savor every swipe of his tongue and the faint taste of your own blood. He started to buck his hips up into you, sloppy and desperate, breaking the kiss to groan, "I'm gonna fill this slutty little hole up with my load, princess."

"Fuck, Y/N...I'm cumming...you're gonna be a mommy for me, baby...my pretty mommy...full of my pups..." San grabbed onto one of your hips, digging his fingers into your soft flesh, suddenly emitting harsh, animal-like noises, fucking his own load into you as deep as he possibly could, wanting to make sure it reached your womb.

You couldn't even announce your own orgasm, only able to let out a strained scream, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Your arousal squirted out of you, coating both of your boyfriend's cocks, some of it forming a small puddle on the sheets below.

The three of you laid there in a pile, huffing and puffing, simply looking at one another's flushed, fucked-out faces. The three of you exchanged quiet 'i love you's', until you sat up and jumped up from the bed, a large amount of cum dribbling out of you and down your legs.

"What's wrong, Darling?" Yunho questioned, casually holding his arm out for San to join him, the werewolf laying down on the vampire's chest and looking up at you with a puzzled expression.

"Your cum...it's all coming out of me..." you whined, squeezing your thighs together. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." And with that, you ran out of the dorm room to the bathroom across the hall as quick as you could. When you left, Yunho and San exchanged glances, their lips slowly curling up into the same suggestive smiles.

"Alright, that's better," you sighed to yourself, walking back into the room, only to stop in your tracks, a strong zap of arousal immediately striking your core. Were you seeing things right? You rubbed your eyes and blinked. San was sitting in Yunho's large lap, rutting against the vampire like a bitch in heat with his head leaned back, his tail curled around Yunho's thigh. Not only that, but Yunho had put one of San's leashes on for him, holding the end of it with a tight grip, suddenly yanking on it so that it San down onto him, causing their open mouths to meet.

"Hey!" you called out, a hand on your hip.

They both jumped, pulling away from each other to look up at you.

Your fake angry face disappeared and was quickly replaced with a wide smile. You giggled with delight, closing the door and running towards them to jump onto the bed. "Make room for me!" They laughed in unison and wrapped their limbs around you, pressing kisses to your face and neck.

"Darling," Yunho sighed happily, nuzzling your neck with his cheek, holding you close to him. San nuzzled you as well, giving your cheek a small affectionate lick, adding, "My Y/N....ready for round two?"

Despite the odds, it seemed this naughty fairytale had a happy ending, after all. A very happy ending.

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle

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rotworld · 6 months

Text

The Oldest Dance

you knew a werewolf when you were younger. your lives went in different directions, but you find yourself suddenly reunited under the worst possible circumstances.

->explicit. contains kidnapping, drugging, power imbalance, mentions of noncon and conditioning, biting, feral behavior, mild gore.

You’ve never seen so many stars before.

The thought strikes you only after the sharp burn of adrenaline dies to a simmer. Fear curdles into exhaustion. Time gets fuzzy. Between the hairpin turns of the road and the lush sea of furs and bedding all around you, there’s no way to get your footing or your bearings. You test the rope around your wrists again and there’s no give, no weakness, just an unpleasant, stinging friction where they’ve been chafing your skin. You hear the rumble of the engine, the scrape of tires over dirt, branches dragging like nails across the windows. You can barely see a thing, and it’s not just your blurry, swimming vision, the exhaustion clinging stubbornly to your eyes. It’s dark here and dark outside, the whole world just a mass of merging shadows.

And the stars…you must not be in town anymore. Not even close to it.

There’s nowhere to go but you still fight to sit up, to get to your knees at least. It’s not a dip in the road or a sudden turn that throws you off balance this time. Someone grabs the back of your neck and shoves you down again. That large, callused hand could almost wrap all the way around your throat if it wanted, but it settles on your nape, squeezing with the gentle but firm chiding of an animal scruffing its young.

“First one’s awake,” you hear.

There’s a sharp, amused exhale from the front seats, driver’s side. “The one who barely touched their drink, I’m guessing. You got a grip on them?”

“Yeah. It’s fine, they’re still groggy.”

You run your hands through the blankets, hoping you look confused instead of searching, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Wool. Flannel. A zipper? Someone curled up on their side, breathing softly. Your elbow bumps into a warm body beside you, a bony shoulder exposed by a sagging, oversized sweater. They mutter in their sleep. The hand on the back of your neck eases when you settle and don’t try to get up again, but it stays, thumb gently stroking. It takes everything you have to keep your breathing calm and even.

Three of you back here, you count. Captives. The other two still out cold. And four of them. Two in the front and two in the back, keeping watch.

“Should only be a half hour or so for the rest, as long as you didn’t give them too much.” You recognize the voice from the passenger seat. He was at the club. Smaller guy, not huge like the one kneeling next to you. Dark hair. Dazzling smile. And touchy, always trying to get in your space, talking a little too close for comfort. It all starts coming back in a slow trickle. Right. The club. And that guy, Corbin, you’ve seen him a few times before, thought he was a little weird but he always seemed to know when to back off. So how…why…?

“Wish we could’ve taken the fourth one, too,” the guy holding you down says wistfully. His hand rubs up and down your back in a soothing, absentminded motion. “Such pretty eyes, and a sweet scent.”

There’s a grunt of agreement from the other guy in the back, a hulking figure sitting against the wall further from you. “Bigger hunts are always more fun,” he murmurs.

“Aww, I know,” Corbin coos. “But trust me, they weren’t a good match. These three, on the other hand? They’re perfect.” There’s a glimmer of light in the front seat—the glare of a cell phone illuminating part of Corbin’s jaw. It’s nearly blinding after your eyes have adjusted to the dark, and it suddenly occurs to you why you can’t see anything. Not the men, not much more than lumpy silhouettes, not any trees distinct from the moving shadows beyond the windows; nothing but stars.

They’re not using headlights. These are wolves.

You surge up in a panic, scrabbling blindly for the doors. It’s probably not a good idea—even if they’re miraculously unlocked, you won’t accomplish much more than tumbling out in the middle of fucking nowhere, maybe skin yourself on the road in the process—but your terror is louder than your rational thinking. You fight the hands that grab you, screaming, clawing, biting like an animal, thrashing with all your strength. It takes both of them to pin you back down and you savor that even through the humiliating briefness of your rebellion, wrestled onto your stomach with a hand shoving your head down into the blankets.

You don’t expect him to bite you and that drags a shrill but short noise out of you. You’re not ready for what it feels like, the weight of him across your back and the crunch of his teeth sinking in, a hot gush of blood dribbling past his snarling lips. It hurts like hell and it doesn’t stop. Every time you squirm, every panicked jerk and attempted wriggling movement, makes him growl against your skin. He holds your hands down with his much larger, much stronger ones, fingers pinning yours on either side of your head, and that’s when you finally give in. You aren’t punished for the last nervous shiver that travels down your spine, or the whimper that slips out when he loosens his jaw and pulls away, strings of saliva and sticky blood slicking your neck.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Good human. Stay down.” The gentleness of his fingers stroking your scalp makes a sob build in your throat.

“You got it?” the driver asks.

“Yeah, sorry, I got it. Tried to keep the bite light, but they wouldn’t submit. Might leave a mark.” He traces his thumb over the throbbing wound he left behind, ragged and still bleeding.

Corbin chuckles. “It’s fine, I’ll vouch for you if anyone asks.” You can’t see him clearly but you can tell he’s turned around, leaning slightly around his seat to peer into the back. You can feel his gaze burning into you. “I won’t tell you not to fight. I hope you do,” he says, lowering his voice slightly. Talking to you rather than about you, you realize. “I chose you because I knew you would. It’s a good thing. Good for the pack. Eventually, you’ll learn how to pick your battles.”

“Fuck you,” you say, embarrassed by how shaky and hoarse you sound.

You can’t see what kind of expression he has, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’ll thank me someday.”

It doesn’t take long for the other two to wake after all the commotion. One just stares in silent shock and disbelief. The other starts to cry. The other wolf in the back pulls them into his lap and nuzzles his face against their cheek and neck, as though they want anything to do with him. He grunts unhappily when they cry harder and shove him away. You can just make out a chorus of howls over the sound of the engine. The wolf who bit you starts stroking your back again, a melodic hum rumbling in his chest.

“The heartland joining us tonight?” the driver asks.

Corbin hums softly. “They’re abstaining. A few might come to watch.”

“Ah, that’s a shame. I hoped one of these might be a good fit.”

“Linden needs an absolutely perfect match. It’s my next project.”

You don’t catch what else they say because those quiet, miserable sobs turn to heartwrenching wailing. The other person in the back starts to plead for their life. The wolf closest to them strokes their cheek. “You’re not going to die,” he murmurs. “Hush. It’ll all make sense soon.”

The van slows, relief and terror warring in your heart. You can run—and go where? You don’t know where you are, don’t know the way back to town. Outrunning a werewolf is a tall order under the best circumstances. You’re on their turf, in the dark; you don’t stand a chance. Doesn’t matter. You have to try. The road gets rougher, the foliage thicker like grasping hands. The van rolls to a slow, grinding stop and the engine dies. You’re surprised nobody tries to restrain you before the locks disengage and the back doors are thrown open, but it doesn’t take long to see why.

You’re deep in the woods. The full moon drapes a thin, silver gleam over the silhouettes of shifting figures, animal eyes shining in the dark. There must be dozens of them—thirty, maybe forty wolves, all sniffing the air, growling and pacing impatiently. More are still coming, slipping through the trees in the shape of both humans and beasts. You’re completely surrounded. They form a wide circle around the van, all eyes trained on you and the other two petrified people huddled at your back. You can hear them talking to each other, their voices half-feral with barks and growls.

“Three? Just three?”

“Three’s a lot for the off-season.”

“All awake, too. Afraid and alert. Gonna be a good hunt.”

“And look at that one in front, bristling like that. Think they’ll bite back?”

Laughter. Your stomach churns. One of the wolves gets out of the van while the other leans in close at your side, the two of them gradually easing you out and onto your feet. A door slams. The wolf who was driving gets out, stretches his legs. You see him kick off his shoes and shed his shirt, tossing his clothes into the driver’s seat before he suddenly falls down on all fours and shifts into a wolf. The change is nearly instant, a chorus of unpleasant, bone-cracking sounds, his skin engulfed in dark fur. Corbin wanders into view, glancing at the three of you with an expression of infuriating tranquility.

Golden light flickers in the corner of your vision. The crowd parts and the man who steps forward makes the wolves you’ve seen so far seem small and delicate in comparison. Massive and towering over all the rest, his chest bare and broad, muscled shoulders adorned with tattoos, he comes forward with a lantern in his hand and a sharp grin on his face. The others all have that intimidating air about them but this one truly looks like a werewolf, overwhelming and wild. His sharp gaze flicks to each of you. Your heart leaps into your throat as, one by one, he looks you in the eyes and speaks your names.

“Welcome, chosen,” he says. “My name is Vanagandr, and this is Hoarfrost Falls. The pack is eager to meet you. Are you well?”

It takes you a moment to understand this is a serious, genuine question. He waits patiently for an answer, studying each of you in turn. “Are we well?” you repeat in disbelief. “Are you for real?”

To your dismay, he finds your anger harmless and amusing, a soft chuff of laughter escaping his lips. “Let me rephrase. Do you feel sick or hungover? Any injuries, particularly to the legs or feet? Be honest. We have a medic.”

The two cowering behind you don’t say a word, too afraid to even lift their gazes. One of them is shaking, clinging to your shoulder. Still, Vanagandr waits, and the uncomfortable silence stretches on. Eventually, one of them shakes their head. The other mutters a quiet, “I’m fine.” The wolves around you stare and point openly, muttering to one another about which one of you smells the best, which one looks the softest, the most defiant, the most fun to train.

“I was bitten,” you mutter.

He doesn’t wait for you to show him, grabbing you by the shoulder and turning you in place. His hand is large, his nails sharp like claws. He traces the teeth marks in your neck and growls softly. The wolf who bit you stiffens and turns his head. Baring his throat, you realize.

It’s then that you see Corbin slink closer, pressing himself against the enormous wolf’s side. “It wasn’t his fault,” he says in a soft, demure tone, his head bowed so he looks up at Vanagandr through his thick lashes. “He couldn’t let up because they wouldn’t submit. It took a little while.”

“I figured as much,” Vaganadr chuckles. He rubs his face against Corbin’s neck and jaw, a gesture that strikes you as odd, affectionate, and a touch possessive. “Go on. Your alpha’s looking for you.” At that, Corbin’s eyes light up and he slips away with one last lingering touch to Vanagandr’s shoulder, but he doesn’t rush to leave. He meanders through the crowd of wolves and the others greet him with the same eager affection, grabbing him, passing him amongst themselves like a toy to sniff and touch and grope shamelessly. The display unsettles you and in your haste to find somewhere else to look, you see something that makes your heart skip a beat.

A small group has just arrived. These wolves are younger, noticeably nervous and fidgeting. They’re led by a wolf who looks like he got stuck in the middle of shifting, limbs long and furred, hands and feet tipped with claws, a bushy tail swishing behind him. He’s talking to them in a low, gravelly voice, something about herding and not rushing, but that doesn’t matter. None of it matters except for one wolf who stands out from the rest. Not because he does anything unusual. Not because he’s particularly big or intimidating looking—he always was bigger than you but here, he’s average. Right at home.

You know that wolf. You recognize the scars slashed from his hairline to his jaw, long, jagged lines clawed across the left side of his face. You remember that nervous little twitch of the nose whenever he ran into something new, some situation that made him nervous. He’s grown his hair out longer, let it spill over his shoulders and down his back in thick, black waves, but you know it’s him. The fearful expression on his face transforms into full-blown panic when your eyes meet.

“Flint?” All you can manage is a strangled whisper but you know he hears you. An unhappy, dog-like whine rises in his throat. “Flint? What—why are you here?” You aren’t thinking when you push your way towards him. No one is stopping you but you barely notice, don’t even hesitate to wonder why. You shoulder through the crowd, ignoring the whispers, the uneasy glances, Vanagandr gone completely still and silent behind you.

Flint lowers his gaze, staring at the grass by your feet. You’re further from the lantern and the shadows are thick, his face half-hidden in flickering, lurching darkness, but you can hear him panting the way he always would when he felt overwhelmed. Your name comes out in a needy whine, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “No…no, no, no, not yet…” He has trouble getting the words out, and even more trouble trying to look you in the eye. His voice is exactly the way you remember, low and rough and painfully quiet, like he’s afraid to speak any louder than a rumbling whisper. “I’m not—I’m not ready, I can’t…”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they kidnap you, too?” you ask, your voice raising with anger the more you speak. You know next to nothing about wild wolves, but you know Flint is meek and easy to boss around, the kind of person who got picked on by other wolves when you were younger. The tall werewolf, the one who looks caught between human and animal, steps closer as though he means to separate you. “Don’t touch him!” you snap. He looks down at you, an expression of muted surprise smoothing into understanding.

“Corbin,” he says quietly. The smaller man rushes over, now carrying the lantern Vanagandr held earlier. “You two. Follow.” He doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you. He just starts walking. You’re startled that Flint obeys without question, keeping his head down. Corbin grabs your forearm and drags you along, frowning at your attempts to squirm free and pry his fingers off.

He leans in, lowering his voice. “Remember what I said before about picking your battles?” he asks. You’re suddenly aware of just how quiet the clearing has become, all eyes on you. Vanagandr watches you very carefully, his gaze hardened and threatening. You glance ahead where the tall werewolf has stopped moving, looking back over his shoulder.

Flint is hunched next to him, head down, whimpering. The wolf has a hand on his forearm, gripping hard enough to leave marks. You take a deep breath. Fine. You can play along for now. You’ll do anything for Flint’s sake.

Wolves have their own gods.

Flint knew that when he was little, of course, but it was a vague sort of awareness. Hearsay, rather than knowledge. Wolves, he was surely told at some point, have many faiths and traditions depending on where they live or where they come from. But these things are distant for city wolves, even shameful at times. Why stick out any more than you already, unavoidably do? His family had distanced themselves from any sort of archaic, wild customs long before even his parents were born. When he followed the family tree as far back as it went, tracing those ancient scribbles on the old, yellowed parchment kept hidden in his father’s lockbox, he found strange symbols and names he wasn’t sure how to pronounce. The word ulfhednar was written in thick, black ink.

When he repeated the word to his parents, they looked at him like he’d dragged a human corpse through the front door and dropped it at their feet. “It’s an old, awful thing that you shouldn’t tell anyone,” his mother warned. And that was that. For years, he went on thinking there was something wrong with him, some secret shame he’d unknowingly inherited. It isn’t until much later—until Hoarfrost Falls—that he finds out the truth. Ulfhednar is not a dirty word, but it is something city wolves don’t talk about.

That, and gods. They don’t talk about those either. Not the old ones like the Poised Fang, god of the perfect strike. Some have forgotten and some no longer understand. Sawyer taught him all about that. Sawyer, who leads the three of them now—him and the hrefn and you, he can hardly believe it, you where he least expects to see you, exactly the wrong place and exactly the wrong time. He hadn’t even planned on being there. He was still too new to take part in the claiming chase, still too uncomfortable with the realities of acquiring pack humans to even watch.

Sawyer had insisted. He was kind about it. He had waited until the evening lessons were over to pull Flint aside, dusk simmering like dying embers along the horizon. Flint’s peers had all come from loose, disorganized city packs. Like him, they had dulled senses and smothered instincts. Their shifts were slow and uncomfortable because they’d all learned to do it quietly, stifling the popping of their joints and the rearranging of their bones in a way that left them winded when it was over.

There was comfort and camaraderie in being new and terrible at everything together, but Flint knew he was falling behind. The others were just as clueless but twice as eager, embracing each new facet of wild pack life while Flint was still reeling. He didn’t think they were judging him for it—he desperately hoped not—but he wasn’t sure. He was used to being an outcast. His whole life, he’d been the obvious werewolf in a room full of humans. He was tall, strongly built, his limbs thick with muscle, his nails constantly needing to be filed down as they grew quicker and sharper than he could keep up with. He’d tried joining packs before. Things always started well and soured quickly. City wolves would look at him and assume he was something wild, and as soon as they realized he wasn’t, he’d start getting pushed around and singled out. He didn’t like making a fuss so he just did what he was told and kept his head down.

But you—you would fight for him. You always did. You’d find out, no matter how hard he tried to keep these things quiet, and you’d tell him you were going to his next pack meeting. You’d be the smallest one in the room between all those werewolves, and you’d still march right up to whatever loudmouth was calling themselves alpha and tear them a new one. You’d demand all of his stuff back if anything had been taken and placed in communal storage—family heirlooms, usually, fur-lined coats and old quilts. Sometimes you’d manage to get a few of his membership fees reimbursed by citing breaches of contract, listing all the ways his pack had failed to behave like his pack.

You’d gotten hurt doing that, just once. It was the last pack he’d tried joining, the last desperate attempt to find belonging. The alpha had claimed his car as a pack asset and taken his keys, and you’d marched in there and refused to leave until they were put in your hand. Yelling had turned to shoving and someone had bitten you. Flint is ashamed to admit that he can’t fully remember everything that happened, only that he woke up in wolfskin, lying on the tile floor of his shower. You were kneeling next to him beneath the spray of warm water and running your fingers through his fur, wet, partially shredded clothes hanging off your body. Blood swirled down the drain.

“Not mine,” you assured him. “Not all yours, either, but don’t move around too much.”

He thinks about that all the time. He dreams about it. Curled up with his head in your lap and your hands running up and down his body, your touch soothing and affectionate. That’s what he was thinking of earlier tonight when Sawyer stopped him as the others ran off to gossip excitedly with their elders about the new pack humans coming up the mountain. Sawyer led him down a trail that wandered away from the commune’s structures, deeper into the woods.

Flint smelled it before he saw it; perspiration. Excitement. Arousal. A human and a werewolf. The end of a chase. They were up ahead, tucked away in a grove of crooked, towering oak trees. The human was making soft, scared sounds as she was forced down to her knees and made to present herself in proper submission, but she smelled eager and Flint saw a smile before her head was shoved down into the leaves. The wolf growled playfully when he mounted her, nuzzling against the nape of her neck. He whispered something in Old Wolven Norse; a term of endearment, Flint guessed, from the tone.

It felt wrong to stand there and watch. They’d come here to be alone, hadn’t they? But Sawyer looked at him sharply when Flint glanced back the way they’d come. They were going to talk here? In earshot of another wolf and his human as they joined in bliss, rutting on the forest floor? Sawyer did nothing without a reason. There was something Flint was meant to see here, something he was supposed to learn.

“You don’t want to watch tonight’s claiming,” Sawyer said quietly. “I think you should.”

Flint said nothing. He couldn’t gather his thoughts. He was too focused on the human’s alluring scent, their needy whimpers and squirming as the wolf took them. Would…would you look like that, under him? Would you be so open, so sweet? So much had gone unsaid between the two of you before. You weren’t together. You’d never broached the subject, even though he could smell your interest in him. He hadn’t wanted to push, terrified of scaring you away.

“Flint.” Sawyer was studying his face in the subtle way wolves did, a sidelong glance whenever he let his guard down. “Something’s on your mind.”

Flint swallowed. He could feel himself reacting to the couple in front of him, the tender flesh at the base of his cock where his knot swells up pulsing gently, and he was ashamed. “I’m thinking about studying a different trade,” he admitted.

Sawyer said nothing. Flint found himself looking desperately at his face, searching for signs of anger or disappointment, and found him completely unreadable. Sawyer was stone-faced and taciturn most of the time. Flint had to take a deep breath, relax himself, and remember to look elsewhere for answers. Sawyer’s scent was…calm. His tail was still, slightly raised in curiosity but there was no evidence of aggression or displeasure in his posture. He tilted his head slightly and avoided direct eye contact, looking in Flint’s general direction rather than right at him, trying not to make him feel threatened.

Emboldened, Flint continued. “It’s not your fault, it’s all me. You’ve done so much for me since I got here. You’re always patient with me no matter what I screw up. I know I can tell you things and you’ll listen. It’s just…I don’t think I can do this. I wouldn’t be a good shepherd.”

Sawyer grunted. It was more of a wolf sound than a human one, a chiding growl and a resigned huff all in one. “You’re the only one who decides your path. But if you want my opinion, I disagree. You’d make an exceptional shepherd.”

Flint shook his head. “I could never hurt them. I can’t wrap my head around it. The whole claiming thing, the biting, the…”

“Fucking?” Sawyer said it so easily.

“We’re forcing them, aren’t we? They don’t want it.”

“They do. They just don’t know it yet.” Sawyer had barely taken his eyes off the wolf and the human since they’d arrived, something nostalgic and bittersweet in his gaze. He nodded to the two of them, the human writhing in mindless pleasure and the wolf pounding her breathless, groaning into the flesh of her shoulder. “They’re no different from us. Strip the wild out of them and they become caged, miserable animals. Here, they learn to heed their instincts again.”

Flint knew that. He’d been taught all of this before. Alpha Druian told him that most humans lived in societies of suffering, and Flint knew he was right because he’d seen it himself, had lived in it for most of his life. Taking pack humans, teaching them everything they’d forgotten after centuries of isolating themselves from wolves—it was all natural and beautiful. It was the steps in between that he had trouble rationalizing; the claiming and the training. The fear and the pain, how new humans shivered at the sight of him and whimpered when he came too close. He was told that this, too, was perfectly normal, a necessary and expected part of the process.

He heard a quiet chuckle. A smile tugged at the corner of Sawyer’s lips. “This is why you’d be so good at it,” he said. “I stopped shepherding a long time ago, but those instincts never go away. I know what to look for. All that thinking and worrying, that’s what we’re best at. The pack’s most tenderhearted are the ones who should be closest to our humans. Confidence is important. Being able to make difficult choices and administer discipline, that’s also important. But you have to care, more than anything. You have to want what’s best for them.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he hadn’t said anything. Sawyer had simply stood beside him as the shadows grew and the sky darkened, night draping across the mountain. They watched the wolf bring the human to climax once, twice, a third time shuddering and wailing as her toes curled, the wolf’s hands roaming her sensitive body. When he finally spilled inside her, he sank his teeth into her neck. The spot was already marked and the precise way he angled his head, tonguing at the indentations before biting down, told Flint that was his mark. His human. A bond, renewed and made even stronger. He thought of you again and realized he was fully hard.

And now—here you are. He’s not ready. He can’t meet your worried gaze. Sawyer leads the way to the guest house, a large cabin where friends and allies stay while visiting the territory. Neutral, scentless ground. You’re wary, probably because you can’t see very well. Corbin sets the lantern down on a table but the light is dim, unable to crawl into all the cozy nooks and crannies in the spacious common area. Flint is happy that you go to him, sticking close to his side, but he doesn’t like how stiff and standoffish you are. He risks inching closer, pressing himself against you—and he smells another wolf on you. Saliva. Blood. A bite? Without thinking, he tugs at the neckline of your shirt, nostrils flaring at the sight of the wound.

“I’m sorry, Flint. I had no idea,” Corbin says softly. “The bite happened on the way here. It was intended to force submission.” He reaches out, trying to offer comfort. You slap his hand away. Flint’s hand twitches at his side, instincts warring within him. He wants to soothe you. Wants to scold you. Wants to protect you. Wants to protect Corbin. Paralyzed by indecision, he does nothing. Corbin’s attention shifts from Flint to you, his expression thoughtful. Part of Flint lurches in fear at the thought of Corbin getting his hands on you. Training you, the way he helps Druian train all the new arrivals. He sees that eager look in Corbin’s eyes, the way his gaze roams. He’s sizing you up. Finding weaknesses. Memorizing all of your movements, conscious and unconscious, how you carry yourself, how long you can look him in the eye.

Another part of him, deeply buried, considers it with alarming calmness. Before Hoarfrost Falls, he’d blame those thoughts on his “inner wolf,” but Sawyer has cautioned him against that kind of mental partitioning. “Don’t cut yourself into pieces,” he’d say. He is a wolf and a man and the melding of those things, all together, all at once. He is the clear-headed human understanding that you have every right and reason to be terrified right now, and he is also the feverish need to wrap around you in wolfskin as though his closeness can take all of your worries away.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Corbin says. An absurd statement, intended to be disarming. You make a sound that’s not quite a laugh, sharp and guarded, not taking the bait. Flint is proud—excited—for reasons he is afraid to identify. “I’m serious. There’s been a big misunderstanding. I know how it looks from your perspective, but—”

“You slipped something in my drink,” you say, accusing. “You kidnapped me, and two other people.”

“‘Kidnapped’ is a really loaded word.”

“Sit.” Sawyer’s voice comes from the far end of the room, by the windows. He’s got the long, draping curtains pulled shut to hide your view of the woods, just in case the chase comes this way. Corbin drops where he’s standing, immediately settling onto the soft rug. Flint seats himself on the couch, dismayed when you don’t follow his lead. You’re still standing, looking Sawyer in the eye and glaring hatefully. Flint understands suddenly what’s happening here, why you’re not just uneasy but furious.

“It’s not like that,” he tries to tell you, tugging at your hand. “This pack, they’re not like the others.”

“That’s what you always say. And then they boss you around and take advantage of you,” you mutter. And that’s true. He would always say that everything’s fine. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of his problems, and he didn’t want you getting hurt trying to defend him. It was all backwards. He was supposed to protect you. The ulfhednar didn’t just have pack humans, they had human allies, human trade partners, human settlements within their territory they defended from harm.

And yet, here you are with another wolf’s bite on your neck. Here he is, failing you again.

“Sit down, human,” Sawyer repeats. “You want an explanation. I’ll give it to you.”

“Are you the alpha?” you ask.

“Beta. Sit, please.”

Flint lets out a shaky, relieved breath when you finally obey, sinking onto the cushion beside him. Sawyer makes his approach slow and indirect, pacing, pretending to fuss over the decor. He straightens out a blanket draped over the back of an armchair and returns a book left on the table to its proper shelf. It works. You don’t relax completely but you follow his movements with your eyes, curiosity rounding the edges of your annoyance. You try to hide it when Sawyer finishes his minor adjustments and comes to stand in front of you, towering over Corbin beside him, but your sweetening scent gives you away.

Flint knows he should let the pack beta speak, but the guilt is eating him alive. “This is my fault,” he blurts out. You look at him the same, soft way you always have.

“That’s not true,” Corbin insists. “It’s mine. I should’ve been more thorough—”

Sawyer growls quietly. “It’s nobody’s fault.” He mutters in Old Wolven Norse, “It’s fate. Keep your fangs poised.”

Flint’s heart skips a beat. He can’t. He can’t do this. He’s not ready. He feels a whine building in his throat and bites it back, embarrassed by how readily his feelings show. He’s always been bad at keeping growls and barks out of his speech, especially when he’s particularly nervous or excited, overwhelmed by emotion. Sawyer glances at him, holds eye contact for a meaningful moment, before he returns his attention to you.

“This is Hoarfrost Falls. We’re what you would call a ‘wild pack,’ although we welcome wolves of other backgrounds if they’re willing to make the lifestyle adjustment. My name is Sawyer. You’ve met Corbin, our hrefn—”

“Your what?” you say.

Sawyer visibly bristles at the interruption but doesn’t comment on it. He runs his hand through Corbin’s hair and Corbin melts under the attention, nuzzling his face into the dark, thick fur on Sawyer’s thigh. “It’s his rank,” Sawyer says, pausing to consider his word choice. “He’s a pack human with authority over our other pack humans.”

“Pack humans? That’s a real thing?” You sound horrified. You’re looking at Corbin like he’s something wounded on the side of the road.

“It’s real. It’s why you were brought here. Normally, you’d be enjoying your initiation right now, but I pulled you out for the pack’s safety.”

“The pack’s safety?” you echo, disbelieving. “How are you the ones in danger?”

Sawyer says nothing. He doesn’t have to. He just looks at Flint, and Flint looks anywhere else, and you know. You remember. He’s territorial. Obsessed, people used to say, as if they’d never yearned for a human before. City wolves like to pretend they don’t have instincts. He tried to pretend, too. But any little thing could happen—you could scrape your knee on the pavement, or someone could raise their voice a little too loud while talking to you—and he’d feel himself growling, bristling, ready to fight and die for you.

When he saw you earlier tonight, knowing what would happen, imagining you stumbling afraid through the woods with some other wolf lunging and pinning you and leaving marks, he felt that reckless urge rise up like an inferno beneath his skin. He’d nearly thrown himself at Alpha Vanagandr—would’ve, if Sawyer and the others hadn’t talked him down.

“It’s clear to me that you’re Flint’s. His…friend,” Sawyer amends, seeing your expression pinch in confusion. “I don’t know much about you. He doesn’t like talking about his old life and I don’t like to dredge it up more than necessary.”

Flint bows his head, feeling guilty again. “I left someone behind.” That’s all he could bring himself to say when the subject came up. It wasn’t entirely true; you’d both gone your separate ways. But he’d left first—decided to try his luck with distant family in another city, relatives his parents rarely spoke to. You’d tried to keep in touch but things had fizzled out. You were both busy with your own lives and your talks became less frequent. You left messages for each other on occasion; pictures from you, embarrassingly long and heartfelt texts that felt more like letters from him. He wanted you to know he was okay. He was strong and capable, and you didn’t have to worry.

“So can we go?” you ask.

The corner of Sawyer’s mouth twitches, the movement very quick and very slight but unmistakably a suppressed snarl. “We?” he repeats stiffly.

“I’m not leaving without Flint.”

Flint feels like he’s going to burst out of his own skin, terrified by your open defiance and how you won’t drop your gaze, even more afraid that he’ll lose control himself at any moment. He trusts his mentor but Sawyer has a reputation. He forgets to go easy on pack humans sometimes. He can be harsh, less forgiving of trespasses, dangerously aggressive in the heat of the moment. He’s not sure what he’ll do if Sawyer comes any closer. Flint knows there’s an old, awful story behind all his scars carving through the thick wolf fur he can’t fully retract. It’s not always easy to tell what’ll set him off.

It’s just as hard to predict what he’ll laugh off and deem unthreatening. Flint sags in relief when Sawyer lets out an amused huff, his posture loosening somewhat. Whatever he was looking for, whatever it is that reminds him of his scars, he doesn’t find it in you. If anything, he looks a little fond of you. “You’d better stay put,” Sawyer says. “The claiming hunt isn’t over. Won’t be for a little while. No one would purposefully antagonize Flint, but nobody is thinking clearly during a chase, either. Do you want something to eat or drink?” You glare at him. “Suit yourself. I have to speak with the alpha about this. Corbin, you’re dismissed. Let’s give them some space.”

Corbin never takes his eyes off you as he gets to his feet, returning your scowl with a sweet smile. “It was so nice to meet you,” he purrs.

Your frown deepens. “Feeling’s not mutual.”

“Mm. Give it time.” He winks before Sawyer herds him out the door with a playful growl.

Sawyer pauses on the porch, looking back at you with a sharp gaze. “Stay,” he rumbles. He smirks. You think he’s making fun of you, but his gaze shifts to Flint just briefly. Flint’s heart skips a beat.

Because Sawyer does nothing without a reason. All of that, every little thing, had a purpose. Getting you accustomed to hearing commands. Keeping his distance to put you at ease. Bringing Corbin along showed you that the pack keeps humans, that they’re fed, cared for, permitted some mischief from time to time. Giving you an order he knows you won’t follow wasn’t for you, though. That was for Flint. Because Flint is a shepherd, and when you disobey, it’s his responsibility to do something about it.

Your shoulders sag, a long sigh slipping out when the guest house door slams shut. The silence that follows is deafening. It’s just the two of you now. You and Flint. His hands shake. He tries to take deep breaths to calm himself but every inhale is full of your scent, the sharpness of your sweat and worry. He’s not ready. He’s petrified. What is he supposed to do now? What is he supposed to say? He wants to tell you so many things but the words won’t come. They never do. You’ve always understood what he tries to say, even when he can’t say it, but you don’t understand the situation you’re in now.

“Come on,” you say. “He’s probably bringing the alpha back with him. We have to hurry.” You rub your face on a few blankets and pillows—decoys. He recognizes this trick. You’ll take those with you when you run, toss them around to hide your trail. Then you rush to the kitchen and he follows nervously, reminded of a dozen other messes you’ve gotten him out of before. You turn on the sink and lather up the strongest-smelling soap you can find in the cupboards, scrubbing your face, your neck, your wrists, any exposed skin. Your natural scent isn’t gone but it’s smothered in earthy musk because all of the pack’s homemade soaps smell like the woods. Clever. Worryingly so.

“They didn’t…kidnap me,” he admits. “I chose to come here.”

You pause to look at him, your stony focus softening with sympathy. “Yeah? I bet it wasn’t what you thought it’d be,” you say.

You’re right. Just not the way you think you are. “This isn’t like before. They’re different. The alpha is good. I know it seems strange. They’re not like the packs we’re used to. But—”

“Flint.” You look up at him and his voice catches in his throat. “Come here. Your turn.”

He shouldn’t. Shouldn’t encourage this any further. He has to be honest with you, has to make you understand. “It’s not safe out there,” he says weakly. “Sawyer wasn’t lying about the chase. It gets…intense. If anybody catches your scent—”

“They won’t,” you insist. You take one of his hands in his and his resolve crumbles bit by bit, eroded by the tender smoothing motions of your fingers over his palm and knuckles and joints. He’s thinking about that shower you took together years ago. The warmth. The safety. The certainty that he was home at last, pack or no pack, that he had everything he wanted. Hoarfrost Falls is where he belongs, but something has been missing all this time, something important. He can’t help it. When you tug on his arm, he kneels, letting you smooth your hands over his face and neck, shutting his eyes and savoring your touch.

He’s not ready. But Sawyer told him he doesn’t have to be. Now and then, when the other lessons are done, they sit under the moon and talk about gods. “The Poised Fang is old. Very, very old,” Sawyer told him. “In his time, wolves had no names. Humans were prey. Smart, vicious prey, worthy of respect. The hunt is the oldest dance, and he is the best dancer. There are others who came after—gods of hearth-keeping and shepherding. But when you see a human—your human—you call on the Poised Fang first. That’s why we have that saying in Old Wolven. ‘Keep your fangs poised.’ It’s an invocation. Do you know the key to hunting humans?”

Flint hadn’t known. The topic made him squeamish. But Sawyer reassured him they meant it differently now. That the Poised Fang, timeless and eternal, was pleased that the hunt continued, even if its end had changed.

“The key is patience. It’s not strength. Not readiness. Patience. You’ll see this firsthand someday. You don’t have to be ready. You just have to wait. The moment will come.”

Flint opens his eyes and you’re staring at him, your palms framing his face. He nuzzles against your touch and you blink, startled, pulling away. It makes him want to growl but he holds it in. “We should get going,” you tell him. You’re embarrassed. He can smell it. You shouldn’t be. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He wishes the two of you had talked about it before—all of it. Your feelings. His instincts. The desire to hold you close and leave you drenched in his scent. The throbbing need to sink his teeth into your neck.

“It’s a long way to the nearest town,” he tells you, his voice low but steady. “Hours. Too far on foot, for you.”

“Shit. They didn’t take your keys, did they? Guess we could steal theirs.” You laugh. Flint smiles. He’s not ready. He’s a storm inside, hope and fear and revulsion all crashing against one another. Some part of him has always known he would come back for you, but he wanted more time. More certainty. Then again, hasn’t he already had all the time he needs? Nobody knows you better. You peer through the front windows, then the back.

“Is there a river nearby?” you wonder aloud. “It rained the other day. Should be able to cover our scent with mud, if we have to.”

Flint inches closer. Afraid. Excited. He’s panting. He can’t help it. The truth is that he’s going to have to hurt you. Just a little. Just enough. You’re going to scream and cry and it’s going to feel like a knife in the heart, but he knows you’ll feel even worse. And that’s okay, he tells himself. That’s normal. Natural. Part of the process. Like when you were children, and he got a splinter stuck in his paw, and you sat him down with a pair of tweezers and scratched under his chin while he whined. He didn’t want you to touch it but you insisted. It had to come out. It would hurt just a tiny bit one last time, and then it wouldn’t hurt anymore. It’s just like that.

“Look!” you’d said, pointing up at a tree. “Squirrel!”

He knew, logically, that you were just trying to distract him. But he’d perked up anyway, took his eyes off of you, and then it was done. Over in a blink. It’s just like that, he tells himself. He whispers a prayer in Old Wolven Norse to the Poised Fang, begging to know if prey can ever forgive the predator for the sharpness of his teeth.

“I love you,” he says.

You freeze. Your palm hovers over the door handle. Looking up at him with wide eyes and mouth parted in shock, a question starts forming on your lips. And like the oldest of his gods stalking a primeval forest, Flint does not waste the moment.

#rotpeach writes #meanwolves #inspired by an ask i got a while ago about what happens if a new pack human recognizes a wolf as someone they knew before #im extra behind on asks gonna try and get to some of those tonight or tomorrow #this time of year is always pretty busy for me and this year is no exception #corbin #sawyer #flint

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the-derpy-duck · 6 months

Text

The TFA universe is a fucking nightmare and I wish people would actually talk about it. Long rant incoming.

Don’t expect good spelling or grammar I’m sorry

Like the show didn’t even care enough to address how fucked everything was. Like all the little baby robots just don’t have names until they go through the military/boot camp, which doesn’t make a lot of sense as the whole point of basic training/boot camp is taking away one’s identity and individualization aka what a lot of cults and extremist groups will do to get people to go along with whatever they want them to, as it’s a lot easier for group think to occur when there is a group. The whole “small cog in a bigger machine” bullshit speech is literally just that but dressed up to look and sound pretty (propaganda). But half of the names given at the boot camp are insults and that’s really fucked up. And it’s almost implied that the other transformers recognize Bulkhead and Bumblebee’s names as being insulting in nature because when Sari introduces herself to Bumblebee it sort of goes like this:

“My name is Bumblebee” “I’m Sari” “Oh don’t be, I like my name.”

But that would also imply that the show was thinking about acknowledging how messed up its own world is and I don’t really think it is. I think that’s a joke, was meant to be taken as a joke, but could be read into as world building or something.

It’s been a hot second sense I’ve rewatched season three of tfa but from what I remember, Ultra Magnus was sort of a dictator? Like I know that there is some form of election, but the main way anything gets done is through the council of primes and in TFA it is established that “prime” is a military rank, and those who advanced to “prime” have to be approved by the council, which Ultra Magnus is the head of. He doesn’t have full dictation over it (he wanted OP to not be horribly punished) but he does have a sizable amount of control (op was still given a job and got to keep his rank). The election cycles are nonexistent as the only time anyone thinks of trying to replace Ultra Magnus is when he is on his death bed. So is it like the Supreme Court? The people technically elect a leader but the council that would decide on important laws and if they are constitutional is chosen by the leader, not the people, can serve until they die, and can do fuck all and no one will challenge them because they have the final say on the law? For a thing like economics or the Supreme Court it would make sense to have these be not elected officials for the sole purpose of “they wouldn’t be pressured by potentially not being re-elected and so they would be able to do their jobs without worrying if it would please the people.” A lot of things done to fix and adjust the economy will look really bad at first but it ultimately serves to balance everything. But the people in charge of the FED and other economic shit also don’t serve until they die. Long tangent to say, not a lot of democracy in this word.

The only way to gain power in cybertron seems to be to either join the military or do a hyper specific job. Also how long has ultra Magnus been the leader? Was no one ever unhappy with how he lead? Sentinel Prime was but that was seen as a bit of a taboo. Also Sentinel’s Cybertron immediately turning into an Orwellian styled red scare nightmare was a choice. Establishing curfews during a time of potential war where the planet/country/city could easily be targeted for an attack isn’t in itself unreasonable. It’s immediately taken to 11 but the general idea of curfews makes sense. As well as reporting potential spys for the main reason that spy’s had been proven to have infiltrated the prime counsel thing. It goes to fear mongering almost instantly but the general idea isn’t bad.

Im interested to know how Ultra Magnus would have handled the situation because the show just sort of is neutral about him. He’s just there most of the time and tells OP not to try and be a hero. I want to know if he would have done something similar to Sentinel and I want to know if the show would address it. Because the general difference between UM and SP is that UM is better at hiding how much he manipulates power. He’s still a dictator even if he isn’t an antagonist force. He’s not a benevolent dictator because dictators, by definition, cannot be benevolent. If they were truly benevolent then the people would get a choice in the world that they live in.

All this to say, “dictator bad”

ALSO is there no trial system? Wasp just was sent to prison and they didn’t think to look into any of the evidence? Did no one think to maybe investigate the people who would have had the codes or spare keys for the locker things? Do they just send people into solitary confinement without any sort of hearing or evidence or was Wasp just waiting for his court date? Why does Optimus want Bumblebee to apologize to the guy who clearly doesn’t want to speak to him? He literally watched Bumblebee give an apology and a reasonable explanation for his actions. He wasn’t making excuses he was manipulated by a person who he thought was his friend and the main reason why he was able to be so easily manipulated was because the person in power was actively antagonist towards him. He did the right thing. He asked a person, who would have known how to make a report, how to make a report. If shockwave wasn’t the person who was in that roll then Wasp probably wouldn’t have been framed. And even if Bumblebees wasn’t the one who found the things in his locker, Sentinel still would have found them because Shockwave planted them. I’m sorry but asking a person how to make a report so you can go around the person who is acting aggressive towards you and holds a significant position of power over you isn’t the same as purposefully ruining someone’s life. Bumblebee was going off of evidence that was 100% circumstantial, biased, and highly questionable, that doesn’t automatically mean that he was trying to frame Wasp. If he had reported that he overheard a spy communicating with the decepticons and had reasons to believe that it might be Wasp, then I would assume that whoever the fuck would do an investigation and either clear Wasp or just arrest him because due process and fair trials is for babies. In which case, it still wouldn’t be the fault of a person who isn’t in control of anything. Blaming Bumblebee for what happened to Wasp is like blaming doctors for how expensive medical treatment is. He trusted the wrong person and that person used his trust against him. The people in power did not think to do an investigation into any of this. And even if the whole Wasp thing was open and shut why wouldn’t they look further into this? Maybe there was other spy’s? Did anyone think about that? No? It also isn’t Bumblebee’s fault that Shockwave got to the position of Prime. The security system and the people in charge of screenings didn’t pick up on the fact that there was a spy. That is not the fault of a random cadet who trusted someone. Shockwave’s actions and the people who died because of them are the fault of Shockwave. Bumblebee’s fuck up did help him not get caught, but it was also the closet we see to him being caught before he becomes a prime. If the people in the TFA world weren’t so fucking stupid then this wouldn’t of happened because maybe this hyper advanced world would have fucking security cameras. If they can figure out how to bend time and space then I think they can figure out how to install things that would record a conversation.

WAIT- doesn’t Bumblebee use something similar to that to figure out the decepticons plans and relay it back to earth? And they have computers that have screens so why don’t they have cameras installed?

Anyway, Wasp blaming Bumblebee makes sense. It makes sense that he is angry at him and it makes sense that he wouldn’t forgive him. That’s not the issue I have with this the issue is that OP also blames Bumblebee. Which I guess would also make sense as animated Optimus seems to be deeply rooted in the military and is a string supported of Ultra Magnus. It is stated in the first episode that he watches propaganda and repeats the military speech about being one big machine. He lies to save his friend and he sucks for that because his friend abuses his power whenever he gets the chance to and he knows this. Optimus lying for Sentinel is much more egregious to me than what Bumblebee does because Bumblebee didn’t know that Longarm was a spy. I understand why Optimus would lie for Sentinel, he is a loyal friend and he definitely did blame himself for what happened. That doesn’t change the fact that he KNOWINGLY let a person who he knew to be irresponsible and who got others into dangerous situations into a position of power. I think Ultra Magnus knew that Optimus was lying and like- why are you people like this?

Bumblebee could have been called out for so many different things that he actually did. Like is he a bad friend? Yes. He treats Bulkhead badly, most of there interactions are just him insulting Bulkhead and Bulkhead never insults him back. If they both were insulting each other then I wouldn’t really have an issue but most of the time they are seen together it’s just Bumblebee being an asshole. He’s willing to abandon his team and objective to chase down Blurr, he doesn’t listen when people tell him not to do something and it often leads to problems. There are reasonable things to call Bumblebee out on but the Wasp thing doesn’t make sense. If Optimus wanted to address Bumblebee never taking responsibility for his own actions, then why not do that when a consequence is the result of Bumblebee’s actions in a meaningful way. What the hell was he supposed to do? He didn’t know how to make a report so he asked. This is one of the only times that Bumblebee stops to think and consider his options, he could have immediately began spying on Wasp and the other cadets but he didn’t. He wanted to pass it off to the right people who would be able to handle it.

Animated OP frustrates me because I come so close to liking him and then he does something that personally annoys the hell out of me. I get why he would lie for his friend who was manipulative and generally awful towards him but its still just like— you have seen the consequences of his actions. This is no longer just hurting you or him, it has maybe killed a person and he has not changed. Optimus thinks he can change but he has an obligation to not let him hurt anymore people and he just needs to tell the truth. It’s really hard to leave friends behind, I know that. Even when they hurt you and actively make your life worse it is still extremely difficult to let that relationship go. I appreciate how Optimus has issues in that regard. But it’s gotten to a point where Sentinel’s poor judgment and refusal to listen to others puts himself and others in danger. Optimus gave him the opportunity to continue to cause harm to others, and he really wants to sit here and say that Bumblebee was making excuses when he just wasn’t? And he never and would never be called out on this.

One last thing, Ultra Magnus and the rest of the high command clearly don’t give a shit about the cybertronians who were fighting (they were so willing to just kill Arcee for the activation code) in the war and also don’t ever try to investigate any issue further. Potential spy? Eh sure throw him into solitary confinement. One of our top cadets went missing and might have died but no body has been recovered? Well fuck, gotta just say she died and not look into it to make sure there wasn’t any malpractice.

So in conclusion:

The name thing both doesn’t make sense and makes too much sense

Ultra Magnus is kind of a dictator kind of not a dictator

Optimus prime spew’s military bullshit and propaganda and no one cares

Wasp is a dick, didn’t deserve what happened to him

Bumblebee is an asshole, he still didn’t try to ruin a persons life.

No one cares about investigating serious crimes and accusations

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crescentfool · 3 months

Text

so you want to use OBS

hello! i’ve decided to compile information on my OBS setup and some resources that have helped me along the way. this is mostly for personal reference, but maybe others can make use of this information!

some notes before i get into it:

i use OBS for both offline recording and (twitch) streaming. any footage i record is edited using DaVinci Resolve 18, which is free.

most of my OBS captures are of video games (through a USB capture card, specifically elgato), and the occasional screen/application capture (like clip studio paint, and sometimes PC games).

as such, the information here is reflective of these experiences. this post is not comprehensive to all of OBS’s features- this is just an overview of the settings and configurations that are most relevant to me.

with that out of the way, all the information will be under the cut!

Basic Setup

file format:

how to change: settings -> output -> recording -> recording format -> press “apply” once finished!

I save most of my recordings as .mkv files- it supports multi-track audio! i prefer .mkv over .mp4 because if your power goes out, you still have a recording to work with.

.mkv files can be read by DaVinci Resolve without an issue- but for Adobe software, they'll need to be remuxed to .mp4 within OBS! (file -> remux recordings -> press the … to select a file -> press the “remux” button)

video resolution and framerate:

how to change: settings -> video -> output (scaled) resolution

my obs canvas is @ 1920 x 1080p (16:9)

i switch between 720p and 1080p as needed! if you're concerned about space, you can probably just go for 720p. i also record at 30 fps, simply because that’s what my capture card supports.

video bitrate:

how to change: settings -> output -> encoder settings (located in both the streaming and recording tab) -> press “apply” once finished!

bitrate is a bit of a doozy to explain, but the most important thing to know is that bitrate affects your video’s quality. lower numbers = lower quality, while higher numbers = higher quality.

generally speaking, you'll want higher bitrate when you're recording things with high depth of information (e.g. you’d want a higher bitrate for something fast-paced like splatoon, compared to a slower-paced game like animal crossing).

my video bitrate is either set to 3000 or 4000 kbps! and here's some of my other (related) settings while i'm at it:

you can put your bitrate at much higher values than me if you're a stickler for quality- but keep in mind that a higher bitrate means:

bigger file size

more information to upload (when streaming)

your computer will need to encode more

i’d recommend reading twitch’s guidelines on encoding, bitrate, resolution, and framerate to get an idea of what values to pick. for people who are doing offline recording or streaming on a different platform, i suggest googling the appropriate resources!

multi-track audio:

this is mostly applicable to anyone looking to do video editing!

multi-track audio basically allows you to separate your audio sources (e.g. discord, game audio, and your own microphone) into different tracks.

this is an immensely helpful tool because it lets you adjust audio levels in post-production (editing). some examples of how this can be used:

increasing someones microphone volume if they speak too softly

increasing/decreasing game audio

muting swear words/sensitive information

completely muting voice call + microphone if you want to upload a no commentary video

and more!

to set this up, take a look at your audio mixer panel, and press the ⚙ icon. this will bring up advanced audio properties.

by checkmarking a track box, it puts the audio on that track. to make the above screenshot easier to digest:

track 1 consists of ALL three audio sources- desktop, elgato, and microphone.

track 2 only has the microphone audio.

track 3 only has desktop audio (i use this for voice calls)

track 4 only has the elgato capture card audio (game audio). the volume has also been lowered so that any speaking voices can be heard clearly.

tracks 5 and 6 are unused.

you might be wondering, “why do all three of these have 1 checked off?” this is what i call the universal audio track. i recommend having a universal audio track for a few reasons:

when you stream from OBS onto twitch/youtube- you have to select ONE audio track.

it’s also a nice backup in case you didn’t separate your audio correctly.

if for whatever reason you need to move around your individual audio tracks in editing, the universal track acts as a nice reference point.

mark off your audio tracks for each audio source as you see fit! once you’re finished with the advanced audio properties, go to settings > output.

for the streaming tab, you’ll want to have the number of your universal audio track selected. in my case, that will be audio track 1.

for the recording tab, checkmark all the audio tracks that are applicable to you (in my case, audio tracks 1, 2, 3, and 4). by default, only audio track 1 is selected.

if you don’t check off the additional audio tracks in the output > recordings section, you will not have access to those audio tracks in editing, and you won’t be able to edit your audio tracks independently of each other. so don’t forget to do this! 👍

custom browser docks

custom browser docks are a great tool for when you’re streaming and want to have access to your twitch chat and/or activity feed! (or if you wanted to have some other web browser on OBS).

to create one, go to docks -> custom browser docks.

you’ll be given a table interface that asks you to put the dock name and URL. for streamers who want to have chat and alerts available, do the following:

on twitch’s homepage, go to the upper right and click your icon

then, click creator dashboard

once you’re on your dashboard, go to stream manager

click the vertical “...” on my chat OR activity feed.

press “pop-out chat” OR “pop-out activity feed”

copy and paste the link into the table back into OBS

press apply once you’re done

click and drag the docks around at your leisure to put them where you like!

if you ever decide you don’t want to have something on your OBS dock (or want to bring something back), go to the toolbar, click “docks,” and click the appropriate dock!

third party things

a section of optional things that you may enjoy having.

streamlabs alerts

this is basically for anyone who streams and wants to have their chat and/or follower notifications visualized on screen!

streamlab alerts can be added to OBS by adding a browser source into your scene, and the specifics can be customized on streamlabs itself. it’s pretty self-explanatory, so i’ll just leave a link to streamlabs website, where you can log in using the streaming platform of your choice: https://streamlabs.com/

discord overlay

this is a browser source that can be set up to show people who are in a server's voice chat and who speaks. i recommend this to people who make multiplayer content- it can help viewers distinguish who is who but also it can be helpful in editing.

to set this up, go to https://streamkit.discord.com/overlay, click “install for OBS,” and after logging in with discord, go to “voice widget” and click the server and voice channel you want.

you are able to apply CSS if you'd like more control over the visuals, but the standard layout tends to work fine for me! a search of “discord overlay css” on youtube can help you get more information.

veadotube mini

this is a pngtuber software that a friend recommended to me! no webcam is required- mouth opening and closing is based on your microphone input!

you can download it here (it’s pay what you want!): https://olmewe.itch.io/veadotube-mini

for a proper tutorial on how to use it, i recommend checking out the app's documentation, which you can read here: https://veado.tube/help/

source record

have you ever wanted to stream something with a chat overlay/layout, but wanted your recording to ONLY be the gameplay? or maybe you wanted to record BOTH your gameplay AND your webcam so that you can have a crisp zoom-in on your webcam!

source record is a third party plugin that can help you with that!

the general gist of source record involves applying the “source record” filter on either a scene or source, and customizing the encoding settings accordingly. the exact details of how to set it up is beyond the scope of this post, so I'll just direct people to this video instead (it was very helpful to me):

youtube

⚠ a quick note about source record: this plugin can be intense for your computer. be sure to do test recordings and the like to see what your computer can handle (and see if the recordings come out the way you like). it took me a few tests before i settled onto something i liked!

you can download and install source record here: https://obsproject.com/forum/resources/source-record.1285/

vdo.ninja

have you ever wanted to do a collaborative video or stream where you feature someone else’s video on your stream? or maybe you’re doing a multi-person streaming event! vdo.ninja is the perfect tool for you!

vdo.ninja turns your OBS virtual camera into a browser source link- which your collaborator can add on their stream! this is a new tool that i’ve added to my arsenal recently- since my friend and i are planning to stream a side order challenge together! i’ve still got to iron it out a bit more, but i like what i’ve used of it so far.

try it out for yourself at their website here (with documentation and demos available on the homepage!): https://vdo.ninja/ (no downloads required!)

ok! i’m set up! what now?

and with that, that’s all of the settings and tools that i thought would be worth mentioning! while most of my setup was written with video games in mind, some of these plugins and setups may be applicable to other types of videos (e.g. tabletop gaming with a physical camera)!

now that i’ve outlined all these settings, i have one more thing i have to say: regardless of what you're using OBS for, do a test recording before doing anything “official” with it. this recording can be as short as 30 seconds. it’s a good habit to develop that can make sure your streams/recordings turn out the way you want them to!

here are the kinds of things i like to check! it’s not an exhaustive list, but this can be a starting point:

video:

does my video look the way i want it to (and can my computer handle that)?

can my computer handle the load of encoding? - OBS will note in the bottom if the encoding is overloaded. if it can’t handle it, turn down your bitrate or adjust other encoding settings (e.g. i had to toggle psycho visual tuning OFF because it was causing lag)

this is especially the case if you're recording PC games- you don’t want to have slowdown on either your game or the recording!

audio:

are my audio sources (e.g. desktop audio and microphone) correct? - if you plug/unplug devices a lot, be sure to check this (settings -> audio).

are any of my audio sources muted? - make sure you don’t have anything on 🔇 if you don’t want it to be muted! otherwise the audio will be lost forever… (i lost my friend’s VC audio once… it was sad)

are my audio tracks separated properly? - requires you to boot up your editing software, but it's worth doing! for the test recording, just have something from all your sources playing at once, and see if your editor has things separated into tracks.

can i hear the voices clearly? or does the music and/or game overpower them?

if for whatever reason your OBS crashes, or you want more information on anything “critical” or “warning” worthy in your set-up, you can go to help > log files > upload current log file > analyze. crash logs currently can’t be analyzed by the log analyzer- but they’re a valuable tool when asking for help on the OBS forums!

and that’s all! for real, this time. i hope that some of these tools and settings can help anyone wanting to get more out of OBS. there’s definitely other things i didn’t touch upon (e.g. audio filters for noise compression, suppression, etc.), so i suggest doing your own research and trying things out!

happy recording/streaming, and thanks for reading! ✨

#lizzy speaks #this was a fun little write up!! i've been slowly getting some of my friends into video making teehee and its SO FUN!!!#(digital) video is like one of my other passions next to art. everyone say thank you splatoon for getting me back into it again <3 #i've been using obs since like 2018 so i wanted to share some of the things i learned for funsies... i really love video...#but also i like having reference posts like this in the case people have questions they want to ask me...#because i don't always remember what video tutorials i watched and it's nice to document that somewhere...#warning to anyone who reads it this is like 2.1k words. i do want to stress that this isn't comprehensive but there's still a lot of info #that i wanted to put for this post...! that said topics like designing your own stream layout + assets for it are NOT in the scope of this #post and nor is this a beginner's guide to obs (i wrote this with the assumption that you know how to record and/or stream and that-#people already have an idea of how to use scenes and the different types of sources obs can use).#i hope everyone's had a lovely march 5th! i would love to look at the fanart but im still not done with reload...#but im hoping to finish it by the end of the month!!! yipee!!!#Youtube

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twistedstoryteller · 2 months

Text

let’s meet our heroes!

(who we’ll call by their well known names for simple sake)

————————————————————————

Wild(Link Azure Rune)[Age: 17]{Civilian nickname: Azul, Cook, Champion or “Champ”, “Cub”/Only Twilight calls him this/}

he’s technically our ‘pink lead’ or ‘mini leader’ of the ‘main’ team. He lived in the suburbs of Hateno with his parents and own younger sister. He befriended Mipha and Daruk when he was little around the age of 4 when his family had visited both Mipha’s and Daruk’s homelands respectively. He later gets to know Flora, Revali, and Urbosa when he was around 12 and sure things were a little rocky with Flora and Revali at the start of things but later they became thick as thieves, and with three more to add to the friend group(they still stay in touch even after he befriends the rest of the “chain”). Fast forward to 17 and he’s now in high school, one that’s he’s just transferring into due to having to move to Central Hyrule City because of his dad’s new job working as a castle guard for the royal family. While he is grateful he technically gets to be in the same class as Flora, Mipha and Revali(they’re helpful too). He pretty much still imitated by pretty much everything else around him. Such as not only the school being way bigger than his former one, not to mention the multiple number of students too. Sheer number is way intimidating than he can ever imagine, luckily he ends up meeting Wind and Tetra by literally bumping into them, they both actually help Wild. He was also pretty much there during the first attack cause it literally happened on the first day of school, just literally after school too(Seriously he was going to meet up with Flora, Mipha and Revali too). So there’s a Lynel wreaking havoc and Wild almost got caught up in one of the attacks if it hadn’t been someone pulling him out of the way, this someone being Warriors, and getting scolded a second later about why Wild was just standing there and it’s dangerous here so he should run. However Wild soon spots a familiar face. Wind and Tetra were both in trouble, and seeing he rather not stand by and do nothing. He rushed straight into the battle with one of the dropped bow with their extra arrows on the ground. Even though Warriors pretty much told him to just freaking run and get out of there. That actually triggered something in Wild as the moment he shot that arrow at the lynel, that arrow was engulfed in a bright glow making it enough to piece and stun the lonely in place, giving Wind and Tetra more than enough time to get out of there(Wind however noticed there was something familiar about the one that saved him and Tetra just now). Wild newly grabbed bow began to transform into something else. A transformation device that lets Wild turn into his hero form, and Wild doesn’t even think twice on whenever or not he should use it or not. The moment he does, Wild has a rush of memories he doesn’t even remember having before(Memories as the Original Wild) and powers he wasn’t even aware he has awakening as well. He uses this new power to actually fight the lynel and actually holding up pretty well(got to quickly rescue Mipha for a quick second), especially having way too much fun snipering lynel with a bunch of arrows, before soon finishing it off with his finisher move. Lynel is defeated and taken down, Wild and Warriors find a spot hidden from the public as Wild got a whole lot of media attention being that “The Hero of Wild has somehow returned to save the day” and “Does this mean the other nine heroes of courage will show up”. Wild is definitely a handful regardless he still has a lot of things to learn to actually adjust to living in Central Hyrule City, especially now having hero duties too(plus being reminded that he needs to keep his identity secret too).

Warriors(Link Leo Griffin)[Age: 24]{Civilian nickname: Captain or “Cap”}

He’s pretty much lived in Central Hyrule City for his whole life(his family too but still) and currently while he’s one of the newer castle guards just recently assigned to watch over one of the royal family members(Legend). He sometimes acts as the ‘main’ group leader, he actually awaken his memories prematurely compared to getting his actual powers upon one day running into Time when he was younger, so he knows the ins and outs of what they are dealing with, he just needs to figure out how to trigger his own powers as well. He awaken his powers when Wild was in trouble while fighting Gohma, and not only that but Time who just happened to be there at the wrong time also got captured too by said monster(Mr Lon Lon cannot exactly transform unless he wants his identity as “Time” to be downright exposed), he didn’t want to be stuck on the side lines as he couldn’t do anything to help Wild or Time(Mask|Sprite). Warriors was going to save those two if it the last thing he’ll do. His powers finally trigger in that moment and he’s finally able to transform to not only get both Wild and Time out of that webbing the two were trapped in before(and Time being able to escape, he however doesn’t transform seeing Warriors have things handle, and not just because he wants to see Warriors in action, nope 😶) but manage to work together with Wild in dealing with Gohma but also got to use his own finisher move on the monster too. Having save Wild and Time, and getting out of there(don’t want to accidentally reveal himself after all). He’s more than happy of having his powers had unlocked, of course regardless he’s just glad the both of them are okay and alright, he even got to hug both of them properly once they were properly hidden from public eye. So, now that he is able to help out more than ever(he didn’t just want to watch from the sidelines and be unable to do anything to help, heck, he even loathed the fact of being unable save the ones he cares for before too). Unfortunately he still has royal guard duties aka he needs to guard a certain someone from the royal family and that someone also seems to really dislike him(or potentially seems to hate his own guts, this luckily gets solved later).

Wind(Link Zephyr Kainalu)[Age: 14]{Civilian nickname: Sailor}

The youngest of the team. Wind lives on one of the close by islands with his grandma and little sister. Though he also stays with his best friend and fellow partner in crime Tetra when staying on the mainland with her, he been staying there a lot more recently cause of the new school he’s attending with her. He awakens to his memories and powers after noticing Wild been acting old, and had also been going straight for this odd little cafe with that guy that follows that “Felicity” guy more. Followed them all the way to a nearby port, gets caught by them both, later gets to see Wild and Warriors literally turn into the two heroes of courage that literally been making a huge buzz at school to fight that huge octo that just appeared(something about that monster felt familiar to Wind but he doesn’t know why), see them doing awesome before the giant tentacle ensnarls the two making it not awesome, spots Linebeck’s boat that has a cannon, uses that cannon to blast the thing to oblivion(Well tries to, also Wind will remember to apologize to Linebeck later if he accidentally wreaks it), oh past memories and powers come back, now he can actually put that octo in its place. Battles the thing with the powers, and than eventually uses his own finisher move on octo monster. So after that fight Wind pretty much collapsed(being caught by Warriors) looking pretty much shocked and yet very much amazed “That was f****king sick and awesome”, well was until he saw Linebeck’s boat uhhh, wreaked(Uh oh, no wonder Wind used his wind waker to quickly get all three of them out of there seconds later). Wind now part of the team! He definitely makes things more exciting by being here, he is more than eager to be with the others again even if not exactly all the chain yet. Random side note he does have an older cousin that is just two years older than him, who Wind noticed been acting slightly off since the start of this whole mess. Wind is not stupid to not notice how his cousin looks at certain things and than gets a headache afterwards(also Wind still curses cause well 🏴‍☠️, doesn’t stop some of the older members giving the sailor a certain look for said cursing).

Legend(Link Felicity Hyrule)[Age: 18]{Civilian nickname: Veteran or “Vet”} and Hyrule(Link Le Fey)[Age: 17]{Civilian nickname: Traveler or “Trav”, or “Fae”}

Both Legend and Hyrule are considered a duo and actually work together as a team pretty well(plus it’s not too uncommon to see the two of them together either). Legend and Hyrule met when they were kids being the ages 7 and 6 respectively. Due to each other’s influence, they were not as quite alone or lonely compared to their time as the First “Legend” and “Hyrule”. Sure Legend is still technically snappy but Hyrule helps reeling in Legend before he goes overboard(plus is the only Legend is willing to be soft around and not be as snappy. There are others, like Ravio Lorule[and Marin] but Hyrule is the first), and Hyrule has the tendency to apologize for things even it isn’t his fault which Legend helps stick up for him(Legend can’t tell you how many times he stuck up for Hyrule since he knows Hyrule can be too nice to say otherwise, especially when Hyrule says it’s fine and leave it be. Legend doesn’t believe that). However the two will always be grateful and thankful for each other’s presence in both of their lives. Plus they’re quite a fearsome pair when they work together. Also Legend has more than once wanted to punch Warriors in the face for the constant following and guarding the older does(Just because Legend’s technically part of the royal family does not mean he needs someone to follow him like a baby duck), Hyrule always stopped him from doing so. They both awakened to their past memories and powers when Legend notices Warriors isn’t as going as following crazy as he normally does, and actually decides to go confront Warriors about it because it isn’t quite like him to be acting this ‘off’ with Hyrule coming along as well just so Legend doesn’t turn it into a shouting match between him and Warriors. Long story short hijinks ensures as not only do Wild and Wind get to see what Warriors does in this life but who he supposed to be technically ‘watching’ over too, they plus Hyrule get to see Legend and Warriors butting heads. A lot(clear deja-vu for our team as the banter was quite familiar too). Later a monster Gleeok(something both Legend and Hyrule clearly feel a good amount of deja-vu around) shows up and Warriors tries to get Legend and Hyrule to leave/run. Legend and Hyrule obviously refuses as what exactly would that mean for the three staying behind. Wild and Wind already rushes in to transform with Warriors warning them a little too late about uhhh, Legend and Hyrule still here. With both now pretty much in shock. Despite that they do manage stay out of the way fighting till, one of the heads from Gleeok tried to crush both Legend and Hyrule, Warriors and Wild get the two out of the way but is instead nearly crushed instead if it weren’t for Wind’s quick thinking by him using the phantom sphere. Either way Legend and Hyrule have to deal with the fact that Warriors and Wild just saved their lives however regardless both of the two now really want to help out, especially when at some point Wild, Warriors, and Wind don’t seem fast enough to keep up with the monster. The duo become more desperate to help upon seeing Gleeok nearly crushing the three heroes, wanting to be fast enough to save and protect them.

Around this moment both Legend and Hyrule’s past memories come flooding back, plus their powers too. They transform into their heroes forms while also suddenly getting a whole lot faster than before as not only does Legend and Hyrule get the three out of the way very quickly, but also managed to make the Gleeok back off with their powers too. So after working Legend and Hyrule into the plan, they all work together to take down the monster and the new duo use their finisher move on the monster together. Taking down the monster, Legend and Hyrule get a now whole chance to process, well everything(I will not deny they did end up hugging each other greatly after this fight). With Legend and Hyrule being part of the team now, it actually makes things easier on Warriors’ guard duty for Legend as with both of them being the heroes of courage, as this technically means Warriors’ is filling his duty of being a guard to Legend and Legend doesn’t need more random guards that aren’t Warriors to follow him(heck even Hyrule if the other was with him) everywhere either. Doesn’t stop Legend and Warriors arguing about it. Also Legend technically lives in a grand lavish mansion now(still has an apple orchard in the back and cause Legend upright refuses to live in the royal castle) cause he’s technically part of Royal Family(Hyrule even technically gets his own room due to constantly visiting Legend too).

Twilight(Link Twil Ordona)[Age: 23]{Civilian Nickname: Rancher or “Ranch hand”}

He’s from the countryside of Ordon. He only recently moved to Central Hyrule City due to a new job opening that allow him to make more money for his adoptive family at home. He actually met up with someone who actually his blood related older cousin(Time) that allowed him to have this job. He awakens his memories and powers after returning from a job errand he ran before and just so happen to already met the rest of ‘main’ team on said return. He actually gotten along with them alright(thought Legend might have been prickly but gives him the benefit of the doubt, especially seeing the others trusting him so much). Anyway, he went looking for them after getting pretty worried about them from a recent attack by a monster with a weird shaped stone face, a shadow beast.(Doesn’t help Twilight feels an uncomfortable familiarity with said monster too). He shouldn’t exactly know where he was going with it getting dark and he can’t see. However he somehow still know where exactly to go, like being guided by instinct(that strange yet beautifully enchanting woman’s advice is ringing through his ears again) so he follows said instinct. He almost seems faster than normal. He finally gets to the others, and sees the five heroes instead however all five were hurt and can barely get up. Clearly struggling to fight this monster, and yet despite that. Something at him screams “HURRY TO THEM, SAVE THEM” and than Twilight’s eyes almost get more wolf like “PROTECT YOUR PACK WOLF!” and without even thinking he runs to get to them as fast he can, and howls getting both the group of five and the large beast’s attention(and in made it stop it’s approach to the heroes). From this his powers and past memories immediately awakened as he ran to them. He also immediately transformed into his hero form and not a second later that, he immediately shoved into his wolf form and managed to knock back the shadow beast away from the heroes. Plus is the only one to easily navigate through the darkness as well, he has “walked” through it before. With giving the heroes a fighting chance and Twilight shifting back to his hero form to use his own finisher move on the beast. He nearly collapsed once the adrenaline wore off after seeing the beast was completely vanquished. However It was only after this battle and sees that the others were safe.

He realized something, and after soon leaving the group of five heroes behind(greatly startling them by doing this) , he immediately goes to look for the woman he recognized as “Midna” from his past life. However, she was no where to be found. As if she was never there at all. The others later catch up to him, they all get a proper conversation(Wild already bear hugging Twilight at this point) and lead Twilight back to their home base(while making sure normal folk don’t spot them). They didn’t realize the one Twilight was looking for watching off from far off with a small smile of her own. Random detail though, He still calls his family in Ordon when he gets the chance to as even though he isn’t there in person with them. That doesn’t mean he can’t stay in contact with them. Especially telling them how he himself is doing. Twilight can also tell how eager his adoptive younger brother is to not only getting to see him(especially the rare chance of Twilight coming back to Ordon for a visit), but also it slowly seems more and more likely that the little guy would want to visit too.

Time(Link Kokiri Lon Lon)[Age:*Looks physically around 30 ish but uhh age is debatable for this guy as well, he won’t exactly bother to say nor tell said age*]{Civilian Nickname: “Old man” or “Mr Lon Lon” or “Mask”/“Sprite”Only Warriors calls him this/}

He’s not part of the ‘main’ team and instead served as the mentor to our little group. He is considered to be one of the “legendary cures” and is technically the first of to awaken to his past life memories and activate his powers at literally the age of 16(be glad it was not 9 or that would have been a whole different mess) as he unlocked them saving his girlfriend(Later wife) Malon(who also later get her past memories after the night she and Link got married). He’s more been help protect the city from the shadows and has been able to stay under the radar for quite a long time before he went more official when, well , lynel but before he can get there to transform to save Warriors and quickly deal with the situation, boom Wild, and the rest of the ‘main’ team following suit. Time does get his own chance to shine, not telling you how exactly(*COUGH*Mask festival*COUGH*)

Sky(Link Caelus Loftwing)[Age: 21]{Civilian Nickname: Caelus or “Cal”}

He is also not exactly part of the ‘main’ team and also a mentor for them despite his age. He also considered to be one of the “legendary cures”. Like Time there still moments or events either he or Time or both do jump in to help out the ‘main team’ whenever he can. His small time cafe “The Chain” that he runs with Sun(his girlfriend of at least 5 years, were childhood friends long before that), is actually where the base of operations or “Home Base” for the heroes(what better cover for our team of heroes than to be at the cafe working part time as waiters that just so happens to be very popular with customers). That aside he can technically summon his past life Loftwing partner “Crimson”. Luckily for Sky, Crimson really good at hiding from people that shouldn’t exactly know he exists.

Four(Link Serenity Smith)[Age: 16]{Civilian Nickname: Smith or “Smithy”}

Four here, is considered as our “Sixth” ranger. He actually doesn’t join the team for sometime as originally he’s a very unique case. Unlike the others, his past memories and powers as the original ‘Four’ were separated from his current self due to a very unique case, that unlike what happened with the rest of the original chain. Four’s “self” was still around as a Sword Spirit(who managed to look more human compared to other sword spirits) in the Four Sword(More will or might be explained in separate post). So cause of that Four had a normal ish life(Sure he felt things that were strangely familiar, his thoughts felt like they want to go four different ways. Not to mention the recent “Heroes of Courage” that showed up recently and people began to talk about them left and right, so despite that), it’s all good, not like he has anything to do with the weirdness(No the occasional headaches at weird times that are totally not connected with each other don’t count). Well, that was until he actually finds out who the “Heroes of Courage” were by mere accident after watching his younger cousin transform into “Wind” thus figuring out who the rest were(Four is definitely inner freaking out, this whole time his younger cousin and those odd group of guys said cousin been with. Had been the heroes of courage the whole time. Give him a few minutes), he soon begins to help with behind the scenes as he isn’t capable of taking part of the fighting himself as how can he possibly help out on the frontlines again? Didn’t stop from Four also becoming a part of the group as well too(aka friend too). He only began to truly help out with the battles by awakening to his past memories and powers. This relates to the fact his best friend “Mira”(or Shadow) being forced to work for the villains(More details will be explored on a separate post) and Four was protecting Wind at the time. Four’s defiance in refusing to give into fear or despair allowed Shadow to find the courage to take a leap of faith and throw Four the four sword back after having to steal it in the first place, which allowed Four’s past memories and powers to be awaken. Shadow got pulled under the curse that was inflicted on him because of the betrayal he just did, and Four refused to let “Mira” suffer for something that was never his fault. He immediately transforms and easily falls into his new(old) battle instincts very quickly as he manages to not only be on par with Shadow and the monster that was also there but give the others enough time to recover too, during this battle he did manage to chip off a piece of the control on Shadow however he was taken away before Four could actually set Shadow free from whatever control it was. Four is pretty much devastated(tired too) having lost his best friend to the villains. However he has the others there with him for support, and thus the last of the “Nine Heroes of Courages” are finally back together at last. Four was already part of the group by than so it’s more official now(he did get the very awkward experience of how his own memories are supposed to fit together, at least he wasn’t bedridden like a certain past split of his in his previous life). Side note, he apparently can summon a large bird like creature(Another loftwing like Sky) named “Zeffa” so. Now Four has a pet bird he’ll have to pretty much take care of and not let anyone else(that’s not the chain plus Malon and Sun as well as anyone else that already in on that little “secret”) know he has said huge bird, especially his dad(which is already awkward enough as it is. Four doesn’t need to add fuel to that fire by his dad accidentally seeing Zeffa somehow).

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu modern au #lu au #lu wild #lu warriors #lu wind #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu twilight #lu time #lu sky #lu four #Magical Nine Courages #Magical Nine Courages AU

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itstheoneshot · 8 months

Text

Kinktober Day 7

Pegging: Zhang Hao

!sub Hao

“Just relax.”

You soothe the man below you as you add a second finger, “You’re doing so well.”

Hao whimpers but he pushes back into you, impatient and desperate, excited and nervous. It is not the first time he has had anything inside him, but you are the first trans man he has been with, and that excites him more than he really let on. He has experimented with toys before, but having someone strap one on, and fuck him with it, is a completely new experience.

You continue to warm him up, from two to three fingers, he adjusts easily, soon begging for more, back arched, hands grabbing at you to pull you closer. You are fully naked, synthetic cock strapped to your body, and you move to douse it in lube before again readjusting so that you can line it up with his now very prepared hole.

“Fuck,” Hao cries, throwing his head back as you slowly thrust in, “God, baby, feels so good.”

You admire him under you, already a mess from barely any stimulation, barely any effort so far. It is so enamouring, watching him fall apart like this, he looks so pretty with tear stained cheeks, an ass full of your cock, mouth hanging open with pathetic cries of your name over and over as you fuck him. You haven’t been together for long, maybe a few weeks at most, but the chemistry and desire for each other was too intense to wait any longer, like you have in past relationships, needing him more than you needed to breathe, and he you.

Between kisses, you feel his cock twitching with every thrust, the friction of your skin against his has him reeling as he takes your strap so well. You pull out just before he finishes, much to his complaints, you roll him over onto his stomach and guide him up onto his knees, allowing you the space to fit between his spread legs, finding the perfect angle to re-enter him, and with the ability now to go deeper, and control your movements better with your hands on his hips.

He is such a good boy, revelling in your praises and taking everything you give to him with so much gratitude, needing to prove himself to you, wanting to be everything that you ever dreamed of. He is exactly that, sweet, kind, with the perfect amount of aegyo, just enough to make you want to do what you are doing right now, bending him over and fucking him with no reprieve or care about his own sensitivity. You cannot get over how beautiful he looks like this, full of you, lower stomach bulging slightly as he further arches his back, cat-like and eager.

“Look at you, baobao,” You coo, reaching under him to take his cock in your hand, “So well behaved, my perfect angel.”

He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, eyes wide and blown out, lips pouted with endless moans and whines as you stroke his cock in time with your thrusts. You can see how close you have him, as he tries to maintain eye contact but repeatedly squeezes them shut with each repeated hit of his prostate, each tight-gripped ministration of his cock with your hand. You want him right here, you couldn't care less if he finished right now, only wanting him to feel good, needing to know that you are making him feel so good that he can’t control it anymore.

“Baby,” He warns, his tone breathy and hard to understand, “Close, I’m close.”

You smirk at him, pushing down on his lower back as your other hand speeds up, thrusting too, but not responding with words. Changing your mind, wanting him to hold back just a little longer, you know that it will feel even better if he does.

“One more minute, baobao,” You soothe him, “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Hao squeezes his eyes shut again, pouting bigger than before, shaking his head and shoulders in his ultimate aegyo, the way that he always does when he doesn’t get what he wants. It is so hard not to give in, but it is mere seconds now until you will. God, he is so fucking cute, and oh boy does he know it. He holds all the power over you, he has you wrapped around his finger, and neither of you would even try to deny it.

“Okay, my love,” You sigh with a soft smile, “Cum for me now, okay? Be a good boy and show me just how incredible you feel.”

With escalating cries, Hao throws his head back as his cock twitches in your hand, and he releases in thick, hot spurts. All over the bedsheets, but neither of you care, all that matters now is pulling him through the orgasm that he so desperately needed. You keep going until he is shaking, running dry with no more in him to give, kicking his feet and whining, pleading and begging you for mercy.

You slow down to a stop and carefully pull out, inch by inch to not hurt him, and you lean back to admire him again as he collapses down onto his stomach, head turned to the side to lazily smile at you, blissed out and exhausted after such an intense session.

“Just stay here,” You order him, trailing your fingers down his back before you stand up, “I’ll get you a towel, we need to clean you up.”

kinktober masterlist

#kinktober #kpop kinktober #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 fanfic #zb1 smut #zerobaseone fanfic #zerobaseone smut #Zhang Hao #Zhang Hao fanfic #Zhang Hao smut

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herotome · 10 months

Text

Finally-official-devlog #112

Also known as FOD112 hi-ho, Wudge here.

Gosh there's just. So much. I'm actually drafting this devlog a few days early so that I'm not suddenly overwhelmed on devlog Tuesday again. But without further ado-

This is the big cheese right here -- each character has their own layer, each character's clothes and expressions have their own layers, and there's a separate layer for the soft orange lighting on top of it all. 😭

On that note, here's most of the individual image files that create the CG with their powers (and my code) combined:

And since this is a cropped version of a BIGGER CG (featuring ALL the love interests sitting together), I had to tinker with the position code a great deal to properly feature these three goons Of course it was worth it of course twas merely at the cost of all my energy and sanity at the prospect of eventually possibly also adding in blinks and expression changes--

Mad props as usual to the sweetwonderfulamazing Remnantation who first completed this CG -checks watch- sometime last year! With some additional edits by me since then~

And, did you happen to notice something new in the lower right?

Tadah... a brand new click-to-continue icon animation! I made (mostly) all by myself! The lil sparkle burst is free from production crate, but I drew the star and added the rotation code... ... Honestly, the hardest and most time-consuming part of this was finalizing the design. Originally I was gonna make it rotate 45 degrees, flip, rotate 45 more degrees, flip, etc-- and messed with that concept for several hours before scrapping it for a simpler, more graceful idea. :| Part of the process, I gots to tell myself, part of the process...

Next up is Jade's powers, as you may have seen in the preview last week. Much like the CTC animation, I did a lot of research on other ideas - various glowing VFX like vertical veins across the cheeks and smoky rising from the eyes, as well as a bigger low opacity character zoom effect - before settling on something simple. Jade's power usage here is... pretty mild in context, and I figure I can always store the more dramatic animations for later in the story.

Here's a still of the effect btw:

Her eyes look like headlights lmaooo. Honk honk!

Do I have more to update with? Believe it or not, yes.

I made some icons, which took a fair amount of trial and error: on the left you'll see an earlier draft, on the right are my more final redesigns from the same day(...night. midnight. I worked on these until midnight).

I had to look up some guidelines because most of my previous icons did NOT look good or legible when sized down to 50x50 pixels. What I learned was, tadah, I had to draw with an unprecedented line width of 200 pixels! (For non-artists: I typically draw with a pen width of 12 pixels at most).

I also studied the icon styles of Persona 5, which saved me a lot of time - they had a cool stylistic choice of diagonally tilted color blocks and thick black outlines.

Here's yet another gif of icons in action...

Did you see them? Did you?? For a split second, in the upper right.... Still gotta adjust some of the text overlap, don't look at that.

Oh and the "How to play" page is brand new. I coded it from scratch... That also took all night...

... Oh. Oh. And remember your MC's phone?

This old thing? Yeah. Visual upgrade:

Also rendered and colored in by Rem <3 Where would I be without them...!

The text, though, can be updated in code!!!! I spliced the phone into layers, with the screen on top and code-generated text just below it, so I can update the caller ID at any point in-game without making any new images.

Took a little while to get it to work... honestly it doesn't look 100% centered... but it's fine. This is fine...

And then... more code. After much tears, blood and strife, I got a musical crossfade to work. It shouldn't have been challenging but it was a nightmare -- when calling the crossfade the second track would either not play at all or its volume wouldn't change and I was starting to develop a preference for eating gravel. But I persisted, found a much simpler code that actually works. After the tearsbloodstrife.

And...... lastly... I simplified this big block of code:

vbox: pos (269, 76) add "sprites/MC/mc[mc_number].png" hbox: if mc_number ==1: text "DEFAULT" style "MC_label_text" elif mc_number ==2: text "LAVENDER" style "MC_label_text" elif mc_number ==3: text "PETUNIA" style "MC_label_text" elif mc_number ==4: text "SUNFLOWER" style "MC_label_text" else: text "TBD" style "MC_label_text"

...(not properly indented bc tumblr is mean 2 me)...

down to these lines, to make my future life easier:

default PrintMC = ["Default", "Lavender", "Petunia", "Sunflower", ""]

text PrintMC[mc_number] style "MC_label_text"

Two!!! lines!!!!!

🎊

Instead of typing out additional if/else lines, I only need to add new names to the PrintMC list. Won't really affect the player at all, but it's a HUGE quality of life update for me!

...Anyway that's it, thank you for checking in. <3

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

PS screw it I'm gonna queue post this early.

PPS have you listened to our composer's new single yet? No?!?!?!

youtube

Every click, every listen helps, and every song of his is a BOP that deserves recognition!

ok that's all for real now xoxoxo,

wudge (again)

#herotome update #interactive fiction #oelvn #visual novel #otome game #english otome #otome #amare game #amare #amareteabreak #indie otome #indie dev #indie game #Youtube

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faytelumos · 1 year

Text

Know Thy Enemy

I've decided I'm tired of waiting to post this.

the request ask

cw: bondage (in a sense), self-deprication

---

Hero ran alongside the cluster of citizens out of the park, looking over her shoulder to be sure no one was following them. "It's just ahead, now!" she huffed, putting a hand on a gentleman's back as he started to fall behind. The lot of them got to the edge of the street and the array of emergency responders and EMTs came into view. Hero helped everyone over, but she didn't expect any injuries. "Everyone okay?" she asked with a bright smile, doing a quick headcount. She got several nods and mumbles. That just wouldn't do; she couldn't let these people walk away from this scared or shocked. "Hey, now, that's no way to sound," she said with a smile. She looked over the gathered as a couple of them got their vitals checked. "You just ran a quarter mile with yours truly! And you didn't even have to pay admission." She got a couple smiles and chuckles for that. Then she spotted a kid and broke out an even bigger grin. "I bet what you guys need after all of this is dessert."

This time, she got some laughs. She smiled brightly, but then her earpiece chirped. She looked to the side.

"Hero, new orders incoming."

"Go for Hero," she replied.

"Villain is still in the area, you're to subdue and retrieve him."

Hero squeezed her eyes shut and held back a curse. She'd only been around Villain a few times, but he wasn't exactly her favorite. She glanced at the others.

"Any chance we can just send in a lion tamer?" she joked.

"That's a negative," the operator replied with a smile in their voice.

"Worth a shot," she muttered, turning back to the park. She took a deep breath to steady herself before jogging back towards the trees.

She didn't have to look hard for Villain's little trap or whatever it was. A big, black, metal box with flashing lights and some kind of vent on it. She looked around, searching the thick tree line along the path and behind the bench and picnic area for him. She didn't see him, so she approached the box.

She couldn't touch it until she knew what it was, just in case it was trapped. If Villain wasn't around it then that was a very bad sign. The lights didn't have any real indicators on them; a couple green ones and a yellow one, but there were no symbols or text. Him and his stupid tinkering. She looked around it for any kind of external power source, and as she rounded a corner, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked up into the treeline and locked eyes with Villain.

She bolted, turning and running as fast as she could, but she only made it three steps before that all-around pressure caught her like a vice and she was suddenly completely immobilized, still as a statue mid-stride.

"I swear you get faster every time I see you," Villain said, walking up behind her. She struggled and tried to move, but he had her well and truly fixed. She couldn't even flinch when he was suddenly beside her, drawing the comm from her ear. "I hope these don't come out of your paycheck," he almost chuckled before sticking it his mouth and smashing it between his molars. Then he spat it out and grabbed Hero's wrist.

She tried to squirm as he effortlessly turned her around to face the box. He let go of her chest and head with his powers, allowing her to breathe and talk and look around. But nothing more.

"Come quietly," she threatened with no real confidence. He grinned at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Now, now, Miss Hero," he tutted, crouching down and physically putting her feet on the ground, "I know you're smarter than to threaten a man who's got you all bundled up." He adjusted the position her legs were in, though he didn't reach up past her knees. "And anyway…." He fixed her torso with firm and quick hands on her waist, ribs, and shoulders. "I was more hoping you'd come with me."

Once again standing upright, Hero withheld a sigh. Villain went over to the box and typed something into the control panel, and her breath caught and her heart raced. It clicked open like a chest, and he lifted the lid and reached in to grab… a water bottle.

Oh, lord, it was just a lunch box?

"I'm not joining you," Hero reminded him. She tried again to squirm as Villain withdrew a pair of protein bars.

"Now, you keep saying that." He closed the lid on the box and sauntered over, waving the protein bars around to emphasize his words. "But I don't think you mean it. A smart woman like you has to see that she can be doing better for herself than some…." She blushed as he paused right in front of her, looking off to the side. She couldn't back out of his space. "I wouldn't say 'goody-goody agency', that place is worse than I am," he mused.

"I can help people there," she snapped quietly.

"Oh, honey, I know you think that," he said, and it just made her cheeks warmer and her head louder as he pushed the granola bars into her hand and pulled her arm to be out in front of her. "But that place just uses up good people like you and then spits them out when they're not useful anymore." He drew her other arm out, took back his granola bars, and made a couple adjustments to her pose before climbing into her arms and settling into a bridal carry. She blinked, looking down at him with wide eyes as he rested his snacks in his lap and opened the water bottle. "The truth of the matter is, darling, you're far too good for that place."

He looked up into her eyes, giving her a movie star smile. He was close, and she noticed the freckles across his nose for the first time.

She looked away as much as she could. She wasn't the best hero at the agency, not even close. She had a good confidence score, but it was only because of her jokes. She'd botched plenty of missions.

"The way I see it — and I'm right, by the way —" he took a drink and then started opening a granola bar, "you could be changing things." She glanced back at him to see him looking at her like she was beautiful. "You've got the brains and the attitude to shake the world." He gave her a crooked grin, an almost goofy, lop-sided thing, and it just made her stomach ache. If she was so smart, why hadn't she been able to properly negotiate that hostage situation? Her cheeks burned at the memory of Superhero stepping in to rip the crumbling situation out of her hands.

"Nobody can change that much," she grumbled.

"See, now, that's exactly what I'm talking about," he said before taking a bite of his food. "You're thi' s'unningly brillian', go-ge'er of a gal," she scoffed quietly as he paused to chew, "and they've go' you thin'in' your callin' is, wha'?" He waved his protein bar around and swallowed, "Changing tires?"

"I'm just not that smart," she snapped. She wished he'd stop talking. Every time she ran into him it was like this. She was not smart. She was not capable. He acted like she could do no wrong when her file was half-full of failures and cleanup reports. She'd only been an official hero for a year and she'd already cost the agency a fortune. She just couldn't figure out how to do things right, how to do things like they said.

He was staring at her.

She looked away again, gritting her teeth. She hadn't stopped blushing from embarrassment since they started this conversation.

"You remember the first time we met? You got me distracted, got me talking, and I dropped you and you punched me out before I realized what was happening?" She tensed her jaw, nodding. It was the one and only time she'd managed to do it. She'd completely wasted the opportunity to capture him, evidently. She should have secured him better. "You're the only person who's ever tried that, much less pulled it off."

"So?" she whispered. It wasn't a hard maneuver. He loved talking, and people were statistically less focused when they were talking.

He just kept staring at her. Like she was some kind of weirdo. She looked away, wishing she could just drop him and run off. She hated talking to him.

"You honestly don't believe me," he whispered. It sounded more like it was to himself than to her. She quirked an eyebrow and he looked down thoughtfully. "Okay," he said suddenly, loudly, looking up at her. "Go on a date with me."

She choked.

"What?!"

He stuck the water and food in the air, and she blinked when they just stayed there as he adjusted his position so he was sitting on her waist, his legs around her hips, his hands on her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes.

"You don't believe me, and that's a felony — don't look it up." She opened and closed and opened her mouth like a fish, trying desperately to come up with something to say. "Obviously we can't have you getting arrested, so you're going to go out with me —"

"I am not —"

"Just twice!"

"What?!"

"Two dates, two instances for me to show you that I'm right, and then if you're still unconvinced, well…." He shrugged, making a face, tilting his head. "Then, I guess I'll just have to lock you up, myself."

"Hold! On!"

He finally stopped talking, looking expectantly at her. She stared at him, just trying to come up with the words to tell him how insane he was. Besides the fact that he was a villain, this was entirely unprofessional. She was already having a hard enough time with this job without dating the enemy.

"Tell you what," he blurted, nodding firmly. "You're right." She blinked. "Two dates is a big commitment when we've only talked through work." What?

"That's not —"

"One date, I'll set it all up, and when it goes well, then we'll agree to a second one."

Why was he like this? He opened his mouth and it was like stepping into a tornado. She didn't want to date him, she just wanted him to stop lying to her.

He adjusted his position, and with the way his powers worked, all she could feel was the warmth of him close to her chest. He wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders, and his face was closer now than ever, and he looked down at her with a softer gaze.

"Think of it as a free night off?" he whispered. "I won't even kiss you." She glanced down at his lips, which were dangerously close and soft-looking.

She… she could really use a night off. She didn't get many weekends anymore, at least not real, restorative, two-days-without-work weekends. And as long as Villain knew not to expect any affection or other romantic gestures, she could probably convince herself this was recon on the enemy and not fraternizing.

Because it was. Recon. If she spent an evening with him, she'd probably get a good idea of how he worked.

"Okay," she whispered. He grinned — he beamed — and he hopped down off of her and snatched his partially eaten granola bar from the air.

"I'll pick you up at your place at two."

"Wha— two?"

"Something nice, but nothing fancy."

"Wh-wait, business casual?" He was already walking away, his water and food in his hands, and when he lifted the giant metal box off of the ground with a light touch, it stayed in the air.

"See you then, beautiful!"

---

#Fayte writes #hero and villain #hero x villain #writing #writeblr #part 2 may take longer than I thought #life + unsatisfied with the current status = maybe a week at most?#(hopefully it doesn't take me that long)

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rilannon · 8 months

Text

What if...?

Caster curls into a ball, trying to protect his core and head from the vicious blows raining down on him. His right knee throbs, his neck and shoulders are screaming at him, his left arm tingles in a way that will probably worry him later, but all he can focus on is the boot thudding into the back of his ribs again and again and again. He should regret getting into this situation, but he doesn't. With the pool of sharks circling MJF getting bigger almost every day, and the man himself still stubbornly refusing Casters help with Bullet Club Gold, he had gone after one of the other threats to his boyfriend's title reign. Maybe stepping up to Wardlow and telling him that he had to go through Caster to get to MJF wasn't the smartest decision in the world, but no-one has ever accused Caster of being that smart, especially when it comes to Max. The fact that he had somehow won, blocking the Superplex that would have spelled disaster before managing to push Wardlow off the turnbuckle and following up with a Mike Drop and collapsing dead weight to get the pin, seems to mean nothing now that he's getting his spine pulverised.

He's just debating if the pain of rolling towards the ropes would be worth it when the assault stops. Caster manages to shift onto his back just enough to see what's going on, even as his shoulders scream at him as he moves his arms. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the glare of the overhead lights, and two silhouetted figures. As his eyes adjust, the figures resolve into Wardlow and a smaller figure, gesturing angrily at him. It takes Caster way too long to realise that it's Max, fury etched into every angle, face red. Over the ringing in his ears and the screaming of the crowd, Caster can just about make out the words flying from Max. '...ake out your frustration on someone who deserves it, you worthless loser-' Wardlow cuts him off by grabbing the front of his shirt, but before Caster can weakly reach out to help, Max punches him square in the face. Wardlow crumples like a wet paper bag, and Caster spots the shine of the Dynamite Diamond Ring on Max's pinky finger. He stares up at Max in disbelief as he looms over Warlows fallen body, barely noticing the hands reaching to help him. It takes Anthony grabbing his face, turning it away from Max towards himself to check him over before Caster snaps out of the awestruck daze he was in.

Between Anthony, Billy and his own remaining strength, little as it is, Caster manages to get out of the ring with some of his dignity intact. Moving under his own power seems to be enough to keep the hovering medical staff at bay, at least at ring side. He's got one arm looped over both his team mates, ignoring the pain dancing up and down his spine, when Max rolls out of the ring and comes up to the three of them. His eyes dart over Caster's body, a frown forming when he spots the large boot shaped bruise that Caster can feel beginning to form on his side. Max makes eye contact with Caster again, eyes filled with something that Caster could almost convince himself was concern, before the shutters come down. Max snarls. 'This changes nothing.' He turns to stalk back up the ramp, not looking back, but Caster can feel the giddy smile on his face. He sees Anthony shoot a worried look at Billy over his head, but he doesn't care; Max came and saved him, and even if he likes to pretend otherwise, that does change things. Caster doesn't stop smiling, even as his body aches and pain screams across his nerves as the three of them make their slow walk to the back. Max cares, and that sliver of knowledge is enough to power Caster for as long as it takes.

#max caster #mjf #max squared #fanfiction #the idea came to me and i couldn't help myself #the acclaimed #wardlow #anthony bowens #billy gunn #max²

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flowersarefreetherapy · 2 months

Text

Shadow of Stars: Cameron pt. 2

CW: Creepy whumper, unhealthy relationship dynamics, power imbalance, implied past violence, mentioned past dubcon, age gap relationship (not underage), Cameron’s mind is its own little warning

The carriage ride is perfect. The man, who introduces himself as Patrick North, sits right next to Cameron, hand high on his thigh. Cameron doesn’t pay attention to anything he says. He’s overwhelmed by the proximity of Patrick, the smell of his cologne, and the hand resting so close to between his legs. It takes all his strength to not slide off the bench and beg Patrick to choke him.

The carriage approaches the largest house Cameron has ever seen. Three stories tall, with a large winding drive and surrounding gardens that would be beautiful if it weren’t so late in the year. Cameron peers out the window, mouth open as he watches the house get closer. The last building he saw this big housed forty families with rotting staircases and covered windows.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Patrick asks.

“It’s huge,” Cameron breathes. “I’ve never seen a house this large with only one person living in it?” He pauses and glances at Patrick. “Do you live there alone?”

Not like it would matter. There have been a few couples who have enjoyed his company at the same time. But for some reason he doesn’t want to have to share Patrick. Just sitting with him is enough to sense his commanding presence and Cameron doesn’t want to share it.

“I do live there alone,” Patrick says. “Aside from my servants, but they don’t stay in the house.”

“All this space all to yourself? That must be lonely.”

Patrick shrugs. “It’s not awful. I enjoy the silence, it helps me think.”

“Well then, I’ll shut up.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Oh. Cameron shifts a little closer to the carriage door, ignoring how casually Patrick is able to do that. No other man has stripped away his defiance so quickly. The knowledge both terrifies and excites him. What else is Patrick interested in? Is he like Cameron’s first, who accidentally bit him too hard then left when Cameron asked him to do it again? Or is he more like the tavern owner who threw him down the stairs and fucked him over a wine barrel as spinters dug into his legs? If Cameron asks him, will Patrick choke him? Will he slip a knife into his skin with each touch?

Another glance at Patrick. He carries himself with the grace of someone who knows their own strength and isn’t afraid to use it. It’s likely the answer to all his questions is yes, and he is willing to do so much more.

The carriage pulls to a stop and a servant opens the door. Patrick gestures for Cameron to step out first and he does, staring up at the house towering above him. It’s so much bigger now, one corner tower blocking out the sun. A warm hand rests on his lower back and Cameron shudders.

“I apologize.” Patrick’s hand returns to his side. “Follow me, I’ll show you around before dinner.”

Cameron follows, adjusting the collar of his jacket. It may be threadbare and worn, but it’s still his, and he actually paid for it. There is no reason to be ashamed of who he is and his status in life.

Actually, no, there was a major reason to be ashamed. Cameron stepped inside the mansion and instantly was aware of the grease in his hair and the dirt under his nails and the butter stain left in his pocket from the rolls that are most likely flattened. There is not a single speck of dirt on the polished marble floors stretching in front of him. He swears he can see his reflection in the mahogany foyer table to his right and to his left a large painting fills the wall, the gilded gold frame catching the afternoon sun streaming in.

Patrick glances back at him with a smile as he hands off his jacket and cane to another servant. “You look shocked.”

Cameron tries to smile. “I-that’s a lot of marble.”

“Oh it’s nothing. The dining room floor was more expensive. Follow me, I’ll show you where you can clean up.”

Cameron does follow, barely paying attention to the servants who move quietly through the halls. The main floor consists of a large dining room, a library with more books than Cameron has ever seen before, a parlor, and smoking room. When he asks where the kitchen is, Patrick laughs and says he doesn’t need to know that. They walk up a large oak staircase to the second floor, where a long carpeted hallway leads to yet another sitting room and several large bedrooms. Cameron winces as he steps onto the rugs, each of them thick and clean, nothing like the threadbare ones at the tavern that attempt to cover up old beer stains. Every surface is spotless and the air is thick with the scent of lilac.

Patrick stops in front of a seemingly random door. “Here. This is one of the guest rooms. You may use it.”

“Thank you,” Cameron says, stepping close to Patrick. “And where do you sleep, if I may be so bold?”

Patrick smirks. “You may be. I sleep up on the third floor. Perhaps I will show you in person soon enough.”

“I-I would enjoy that.”

“Take the time you need to get ready. Dinner is in two hours.”

Cameron nods, watching Patrick walk away before opening the door. The room is huge, far bigger than any he’s stayed in before, even in the other nobles’ houses. To his right is the large bed covered in throw pillows. Cameron moves closer, daring to touch the duvet. Silk. Probably down pillows as well. He swallows back a curse, then moves to the rest of the room.

There is an armoire directly across from the door, full of clothing. Cameron picks up a few pieces that are in bright colors and smiles. There has to be something in here he can wear. On the far left of the room is another door and he steps into a bathroom. The bath is already full of water, steam rising into the air, with several towels stacked next to it.

A knock echoes through the room. Cameron hurries to the door, excitement twisting his stomach.

A young woman stands there. She dips into a bow when he opens the door. “Hello, sir. My name is Alice. Lord North assigned me to take care of you.”

“Oh, alright. My name is Cameron.”

Alice smiles, but it is just practiced, lacking any real emotion. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron. If there is anything you need, please ask me and I will be more than willing to get it.”

“I-I don’t think there’s anything I need right now. Other than a bath, I suppose.”

“Of course. Have you found the bath?” When Cameron nods, Alice starts walking to the bathroom. “Good. I will show you what soaps you have and which ones I would recommend. Lord North has a few favorites, if you prefer them.”

Cameron’s stomach does another flip as he follows her. Patrick has favorite scents? He’s that particular? Oh, Cam, you found yourself the jackpot here.

Alice sets out a few glass bottles, explaining what each one is. Cameron barely listens. He just wants her to leave so he can spend some time alone and scream about the golden opportunity handed to him. Then he realizes she’s stopped talking, watching him expectantly.

“I’m sorry, I missed what you said.”

“Of course. I was merely asking if you were ready to bathe?”

Cameron nods. “Oh. Yes. Of course.”

Alice doesn’t leave. Cameron glances at his feet, shifting his weight. Is he supposed to ask her to go? Is there something he’s supposed to give her? He shrugs off his jacket and hesitantly hands it to her, hoping that’s enough.

Alice takes it and remains there, still watching him.

“Um, is there something you need?”

“The rest of your clothes. I’m supposed to take care of them and help bathe you.”

The blood rushes to Cameron’s face. “Oh, that really isn’t-”

“Under Lord North’s orders.” Alice flashes a real smile. Her words lose their stilted edge. “Mr. Cameron, I have a wonderful husband and three children at home. I am not interested in anything other than helping you relax and adjust to this new situation.”

Cameron’s shoulders slump. “Oh. Okay. I’m sorry, I’m just not used to all of this.”

Alice nods. “I understand. I will take care of your clothes and will be back in ten minutes.”

Cameron quickly undresses. It’s not the first time he’s been fully unclothed in front of someone before and typically he doesn’t care, but there’s something different about it happening when there’s no lust behind it. He knows how to take off his shirt in a way that perfectly accentuates his body, but just pulling it off somehow feels harder. He shimmies out of his pants and hands them over to Alice. She takes all his clothes with a practiced smile, then leaves.

The water is just as soothing as he expected. Cameron sinks down up to his neck, letting the hot water relax his muscles. He can’t remember the last time he took a bath, let alone a warm one. Maybe a year ago? When that nice noble had him over for a few days and wasn’t a fan of dried blood staining his bed? No, that water was barely lukewarm. Nothing close to the heat enveloping his body at this moment. Cameron sighs and his eyes slip closed.

Alice breaks the silence a few minutes later when she comes back in. “Mr. Cameron, I’ve laid out new clothes for you on the bed.”

“Thank you,” he mutters. I don’t want to think about leaving right now, all right?

Alice doesn’t push like expected. Instead, she nods and closes the door, leaving him to the peaceful silence. At least the silence of the room. Inside Cameron’s head, his thoughts careen around his mind. As the water cools around him, he already knows this opportunity is not one to pass up on. He will do whatever he has to in order to keep this position. Whatever this exact position is.

Cameron hums as he scrubs at his skin, trying to rub away years of grime and dirt. He avoids the scar by his ankle that still hurts on cold days. Patrick doesn’t have a spouse, so he isn’t here as a side piece or to invoke jealousy. Good, then there won’t be glass vases thrown at his head. Maybe he is lonely? Cameron tips his head to the side, curls sticking to his neck from the steam. No, very unlikely. Patrick has power and position. Who wouldn’t want to be around him? Merely companionship? That is a little more likely, but he will have to bid his time and figure it out later. Right now, he doesn’t have enough information to make a judgment. In a few days time, and with some patience, he’ll know exactly what Patrick wants from him.

If you last here that long.

Shut up, I will. I will. Whatever it takes, I’m going to stay here.

Tagging: @blood-is-compulsory @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @pigeonwhumps @whumpinggrounds (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

#creepy whumper #intimate whumper #unhealthy relationship dynamics #power imbalance #implied past violence #mentioned past dubcon #emotional whump #cameron #patrick #shadow of stars au

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