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#❧ 「 general 」 ⸻ answered
hcllsraiscd · 2 days
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@damnedrainbows asked: You’d be hard pressed to ever call the radio demon sheepish, but it’s almost what he appears right now. Shy even, as he fiddles something in his hands. A box. Niffty is there as well, her one inquisitive eye peering over the bar counter as she tries to take a swipe at the box now and then.
Alastor hears the embarrassment in his voice and he hates it. “I, ah, procured something for us!” He clears his throat at Husk, smile almost twitching in nerves. “It’s nothing, really!”
unprompted asks || always open
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ALASTOR'S APPROACH IS already enough to make husk a little suspicious and put-off— but admittedly, niffty being there does help a bit. he's inclined to think that nothing too terrible can happen while she's there. hopefully. though the hint of nerves in alastor's demeanor only adds to his own nerves, because what could possibly make that ever-smiling radio demon anything but calm and in control? it can't be anything good, right?
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❝...IF IT'S NOTHING, then why are you all shy all of a sudden?❞ his tail flicks behind him, as if unsure what to do with itself. the feline is caught somewhere between curiosity and his earlier suspicion by now, though it seems the latter wins out when he taps his clawed fingers at the box in question. it can't be anything too dangerous, surely... but, just in case, he does carefully nudge niffty back with his tail. wouldn't want her to get hurt if its contents are something to be worried about.
❝IT'S GOT SOMETHIN' to do with this? so then, what is it?❞
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commandsfear · 11 months
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@fateviled - " you must be either very brave or very stupid to face me alone. " ( i came from ur multi to send this from megatron hehehe )
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when the cybertronians had first made an appearance, anakin had heard fives say, ‘that’s a big clanker’. they didn’t even know the half of it at the time. now, staring up at megatron, leader of the robotic sleemos who called themselves decepticons, anakin wishes he had an ounce of self-preservation. he had watched this guy go toe to toe with others of his kind and come out without a scratch. 
well… none of them were the chosen one. 
anakin shrugged, smirking at megatron, “bit of both.” with that, he lunged forward. his lightsaber thrummed loudly next to his ear. 
the bigger they were, the harder they would fall. which meant that he was going for his legs. of  course, that ran the risk that he would get squished, but he was willing to take that chance. not that rex or anyone else wanted him to. but they would never understand. these were the hard choices anakin had to make to make sure everyone else survived. 
little did he know his thoughts could mirror the thoughts of a young idealist. DARKNESS always lingered in the brightest of souls. it haunted the most idealistic of dreams. its smog was covering the galaxy as the two fought, not caring how a clash might affect faith. there was a chessmaster already assured of his victory over the light. what did he care if his future champion fought a being over ten times his size?  
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distortedbeat · 1 year
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11. Tag a blog whose writing inspired you this year.
@gemdeus! Gem's writing always has me in awe and I think he knows this by now, but I'll say it anyway. I can, will, and do stop to read everything that he posts, even if I'm not part of it, because his writing and his muses are just that compelling and fun to me!
12. Tag a blog whose character inspired you this year.
@amplifyingtrace! I've always adored Leia since the days of my multimuse, but now is as good time as any to put it out there, right? Leia and Kit both are such wonderful presences, and it's a joy to have them both on my dash again!
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strywoven-moved · 2 years
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@omnilimit​ : ✨mememe! 👐
PROMPTED.
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hiii , fair !  like i said , i know we haven’t been interacting for a very long while , but truthfully ?  doesn’t even matter.  i find myself looking forward to all your responses !  verona herself has been a very fickle muse of late , but getting a reply from you ?  she shows up for the assignment , i’ll be honest , i’ll oust myself for that.  i already am IN LOVE with the very tense ( but also slightly questionable ) dynamic they share !  & i know i can ramble a lot OOC , so i’m… sorry in advance ( but please , take that as a sign to feel free to bother me in turn ) .  i am also sorry bc now this means i’ll be sending you unprompted things all the time.  i can’t wait to see where they go from here ; i can tell - no matter which route it takes - it’ll be great for sure !  
but can i just praise your writing , too ?  i think you’ve done such a STELLAR job with cloud as whole ; his mannerisms , his voice , etc etc.  i’ll also oust myself for being guilty of reading your other threads , just to further immerse myself in your version of him !  it’s so good & always so well-written.  i’ve seen that you are also an “arteest” & i have to say , your art is SO LOVELY .  like , wow.  it genuinely catches me off-guard ( in a good way ) every time i see it.  
to close , i know we don’t really chat or write much atm , buuuut i hope we can change that !  on both fronts !  just know i’ll be more than willing to have all the threads & do all the offline rambling , if you’re also so inclined c:
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pomfiores · 2 years
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"Is there something wrong with the way I dress?" White tilted his head, running a hand over the front of his robes. He didn't see a problem with it, but he knew others stared at him for walking around the school in such attire. Especially since he was 'attending' classes but not forced to wear the same uniform as everyone else. Or perhaps he was supposed to, who was to know when the man was such a mystery. "I believe they rather suit me, don't you think?" (slides this over hello have one white)
    Truthfully, the individuals clothes weren’t the first thing that Vil’s eyes had taken notice of.  Perhaps that was because he was actually quite well-dressed compared to that of the whole student body, if not majority.  Did his choice of attire stand out?  In a way.  Yet, it was better than what most students chose to wear around campus and considered appropriate.
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   If there’s anything Vil noticed right off the bat, it was the piece covering this gentleman’s eyes and his hair.  An unusual color and fashion statement.  These similarities ... uncanny, at best but not quite unusual.  They do, indeed, stand out.  “ Actually, I’m quite intrigued. The way you’ve chosen to express yourself, I can’t be mad at that. ”
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    “ ... Be that as it may, it doesn’t matter if your clothes suit you.  Your means of attire is still out of school dress code, it doesn’t give you the prerogative to dress outside of your usual uniform. ”  He’s waving a hand, dismissively.  “ Especially considering the fact that you’re a prefect. No. Ramshackle’s head, right? It’s your own responsibility to uphold your image, as dorm head. Still, looking presentable should be in your best interest. ”
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strywoven · 1 year
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@lcstkey has requested a story : ❝ am i boring you ? ❞ [Spyro]
𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.
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The two are oft’ seen in company these days ; the worldly keybearer and her eager , adventurous dragonling companion.  Quite an o d d pair they make , too , being so dichotomous of each other.  But Spyro is perfectly content in the other’s company , even with the arms-length attitude she always seems to regard him with.  Yet in his humble opinion , he’s already made a f r i e n d out of Artemis.  After all , you don’t simply go on a journey together and NOT call yourselves friends ( or , at the very least , partners ) , right ?  He always liked to believe he was wearing her down ; thawing those cold walls she seems to have up all the time ; slowly working his way into a nicer , w a r m e r part of her heart with his winning personality and perfectly heroic charm ( or so he tells himself ) !  And really , how could she resist him ?
Their mission ( which is not exactly a mission , but the young dragon enjoyed calling it as such to give their tasks an air of importance ) that day is no different from any other day : explore the realm , talk to the locals about the traces of darkness , avoid any suspicion and conflict.  Sounds easy enough - and it certainly should be ! - but Spyro is a dragon OF ACTION ( did he mention he’s saved the dragon realms from catastrophe several times ? ) !  All this wandering from village to village doing almost n o t h i n g other than gathering intel on monsters he’s barely seen lately is putting him to sleep ; it’s all so incredibly ⸺
⸺ Oops.  Did she just read his mind ?
Sitting suddenly much straighter , head lifting to meet her eye , Spyro swallows nervously , flicking his tail.  ❝ Boring me ?  Y o u ? ❞  He points at her with one talon , then waves his paw to dismiss the words.  ❝ No , no !  Of course not.  You’re never boring , Artemis. ❞  That much is true , at least.  Though the same cannot exactly be said for what they were currently doing.  ❝ I was just uhhh - y’know - THINKING real hard about what you were saying , that’s all. ❞  His toothy smile is … UNCONVINCING ; it’s clear he hasn’t been paying too much attention to what’s been said for the last couple minutes.
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starlightkun · 4 months
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❧ word count: 25.5k ❧ warnings: cursing, neck/shoulder biting and marking if you’re squeamish about that, talking about like werewolf scenting and stuff, blood, brief kissing with blood on/around mouths, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol ❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first! this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from changer to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc), and if you were able to survive changer, then you deserve a medal. and this is that medal, i suppose!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!
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The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?
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“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Sung.” You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend, holding him close with no hesitation, even as his own arms were much slower to react. But once they did, he pulled you to him with a nearly crushing force, a strength that could all but make you forget that he was only half-werewolf.
Tonight, he’d let you stay with him for one of his shifts. It was exactly because he was half-werewolf that he’d even considered it in the first place, his shifts were much less intense than full werewolves, generally less violent and possibly dangerous for anybody who happened to be around him. He’d described it to you after the last full moon, that it was more just sort of painful, confusing, and sometimes sort of like when drunk-you left problems for sober-you, like drunk-dialing people or spending too much money online. Except in his case, werewolf-him generally destroyed smaller pieces of property like school notes or clothes. When he said that he always asked Shotaro to leave the night of the full moon, you asked if you could be with him the next time. It sounded terrible to have to do that alone every month. And to your surprise, he’d only responded with a weak ‘please?’
So when you’d arrived this afternoon, you’d taken everything out of his room that you feasibly could that he didn’t want to chew up: his bookbag, textbooks, nice sneakers, photo albums, laptop, etc. And then you’d locked the door, and stayed with him.
Now he was coming out of it—a glance at his bedside clock that had been knocked out of place but was otherwise fine told you that it was almost three in the morning. You cradled the back of his fully-human-again head, not minding the matted, damp hair.
“I’m right here,” you reminded him. “I didn’t go anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”
You felt him shudder as he let out what sounded like a whine of pain. It made you worried about him staying up on his own two feet. “Sung? Do you need to lay down?”
He didn’t answer, and you realized he might not be back at the point where he could speak yet. Before you could finish weighing your options of attempting to drag the 186cm still partially-shifted half-werewolf to his bed by yourself, he’d buried his face in your neck, opened his mouth, and was resting his set of sharp canines against the curve of where your neck met your shoulder.
You breathed in through your nose, hand still on his head as he just… waited. For what, you couldn’t say. He was still whining softly, though now there was a slight undertone of need cutting through the pain you’d heard earlier.
Your hand was still resting on his head, and you gently pulled him closer, feeling the dull pressure of his teeth against your skin. “It’s okay, Sung. Whatever you need. I trust you.”
Finally, he closed his jaw. But it wasn’t a bite at all, it was more like a toddler teething on something cold to soothe their aching gums while their new teeth grew in. It didn’t hurt; he certainly wasn’t breaking skin, and you doubted that any marks would be left. The worst damage would be slobber, you were sure. If anything, it just… tickled. Suppressing a giggle at the feeling, you stroked his hair affectionately.
“There you go, Sung. There you go…” You murmured quietly. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay, baby…”
“Bite…” He finally let out a grunt that sounded akin to a real word.
“What? What was that?” You tried to pull your head back to be able to look him in the face, but he didn’t want to detach from you in the slightest, his whines becoming less pained and more pathetic. Giving up on the task, you shook your head just a little, “Never mind, sorry. But what were you saying, Sung? Something about biting? You didn’t chew anything up this time, actually. We kept you in check pretty well. Your wallet will thank us, I’m sure.”
Sungchan continued to mouth at your neck a couple more times before he gave another full body shudder and tremble, then fell to his knees. As wrapped up in each other as you were, you went down with him, your kneecaps only saved by the fact that he had a nice plush rug. Your forehead wasn’t so lucky, as it got cracked against his on the way down, and you bit your tongue as a result.
“Shit!” You hissed, but couldn’t even focus on your own pain for very long, because Sungchan was now leaning most of his weight forward onto you. You quickly readjusted hold him up by the underarms. “Woah, woah. You alright, Sung?”
“I… bite…” He groaned again.
“You bite your tongue too?” You guessed humorously, scooting to sit on the floor against his bed and ushering him to lay down with his head in your lap. Ideally, you’d be in the bed, not on the floor next to it, but this was close enough.
Sungchan curled up in your lap as if he’d forgotten how big he was, fitting as much of the top half of his body there as he could. It was as he turned over slightly onto his side that you finally got a good look at his face again and saw just how exhausted he looked. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and his skin was warm, flushed, and drenched with sweat. You gently brushed the damp bangs away from his forehead with one hand, reaching your other up towards his nightstand. After fumbling around in the top drawer for a ridiculous amount of time considering you’d put it literally right on top, you finally grabbed the lunchbox filled with cold, damp washcloths and ice packs that you’d stored in there earlier.
Unzipping it, the ice packs were all melted, but the washcloths were still nice and cool, which was what you really needed. Taking the first one, you blotted it along Sungchan’s forehead, cheeks, and neck, following it up with fleeting touches of your hand to assess if it was really helping or not. Judging by the small, soft, not painful sigh he let out, it at least didn’t seem to be hurting.
“Y/N…” He panted, grabbing your wrist as you were pressing the washcloth to his cheek.
“Yep, I’m right here, Sung,” you reassured him, putting your other hand over his. “I’m right here, okay?”
“I…”
“Do you need something, baby? Water? Food?
“I want…”
You dropped the washcloth from his face to listen attentively. “Yeah, Sung?”
His eyes finally opened, letting you see that his irises were still the same glowing, burning amber as earlier in the night. Not quite out of his shift yet. He sat up until he was nearly level with your neck, breathing in deeply. His grip on your wrist tightened, then he all but collapsed back onto your lap again, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Mm… I should… We should… I wan’ to…” He was slurring his words like he was drunk, chest heaving with every breath, and his grip on your wrist relaxed until he was loosely holding your hand, pulling it down to cradle your forearm to his chest like it was a stuffed animal. “Wan’… give you my mating bite… Y/N…”
You stared down at Sungchan with wide, dumbstruck eyes. As he slowly blinked, you could see that his eyes were still that same bright gold. He just shifted further up to try to fit more of himself in your lap, though, pressing his head against your stomach and wedging his shoulder in the gap left by your criss-crossed legs.
Even as you were so shocked, you curled up and readjusted to mold your body around him, one hand giving his head a soft, reassuring pat as the other rubbed up and down his arm, soothing over the surely tired muscles.
“You…” You trailed off in your attempt to get clarification, unable to even begin to try to rephrase it yourself. In packs, mated werewolf couples bit each other in elaborate rituals. Neither of you were any of those things. Could Sungchan even give a werewolf mating bite, as a half-werewolf? Could you receive one? You definitely couldn’t give him one back. Wouldn’t he want one back? Or maybe not? Not to mention he wasn’t in a pack and had never been in his life. What did a mating bite mean to him?
God, your head hurt, and you weren’t even the one who had gone through a werewolf shift tonight.
Sungchan took another deep breath, and long, slow blink, his eyes almost back to their normal brown color. “‘Cause I… I love you. I wan’ to… ‘cause I love you… my… Y/N.”
His eyes fluttered shut, and you heard his breathing even out as he finally fell asleep in just a few moments.
It didn’t seem like you’d get the answer to any of those questions tonight. And as much as the idea of going any longer without knowing made your stomach twist into painful, uncomfortable knots, Sungchan needed the rest. He wasn’t in the right state for any sort of conversation like that. There wouldn’t be any way he’d be able to answer your questions even if you could force yourself to ask them.
Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently peck his hair. “Your Y/N loves you too, Sung…”
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Your back ached. You had a crick in your neck. And another one in your back. And another one in another part of your back. And yet another one in one more part of your back. You groaned, rolling over in bed to try to crack some of the kinks out without having to actually get up.
That gave you pause. There was definitely a mattress underneath you, blankets covering you, and a pillow supporting your head. But you remembered falling asleep on the floor next to Sungchan’s bed after his shift last night.
Squinting one eye open suspiciously, you saw that it was still very dark in his room, but you had without a doubt been mysteriously tucked into his bed. Much too tired to investigate past that, you pulled the blankets up over your head and buried your face in your pillow, very quickly falling back asleep.
When you woke up again, it was brighter outside, and at first you thought Sungchan had put a weighted blanket on you in the middle of the night. Odd choice, considering you didn’t have one on you the first time you woke up, or at least that you could remember. And then you realized that Sungchan was your weighted blanket.
Your boyfriend was fully snuggled up on top of your back, completely passed out, as you were dozing on your front. You couldn’t even roll him over, he was dead weight. With a sigh, you closed your eyes again, wondering if you’d be able to go back to sleep for a second—third?—time this morning.
“You up?” He mumbled in your ear, voice barely above a hoarse grumble.
“You’re awake?” You asked in disbelief.
“Yeah?”
“So you’re suffocating me on purpose?”
He rolled off onto the mattress next to you, and immediately your lungs could work better. “Oh, so when you do it to me, it’s cute and I’m supposed to enjoy it, but when I do it, it’s attempted murder and ‘Ouch, Sungchan, get off of me, you’re crushing me with your big, huge werewolf muscles.’”
“So I don’t need to ask if you’re feeling better,” you scoffed, but nevertheless shifted onto your side to face him.
He wasn’t pink-faced and sweaty anymore, instead looking unnaturally pale, with dark circles under his eyes like he’d pulled two all-nighters in a row for finals week. You cupped his cheek, gently running your thumb under one of his eyes. His skin wasn’t warm to the touch, instead it felt the same temperature as yours—cold for a werewolf or half-werewolf.
“You’ve got a chill, Sung,” you observed with a frown, taking your hand back as you prepared to get up.
“It’s normal, baby,” he reassured you, grabbing your arm to keep you from leaving. “Just uh… returning to homeostasis or whatever. I’ll be okay.”
“Alright… if you say so…” you sighed, staying put and pressing a kiss to his forehead, sneakily taking note of his temperature that way instead. “You can at least eat, right? Breakfast sound good?”
“Sure. In a minute.”
“You stay here, I’ll go make you something. Breakfast in bed. What’s better than that?”
He pretended to deliberate on this, then grabbed you with two arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “This.”
Tucked under his chin, you couldn’t look up to read his face, instead just staring at his t-shirt. “Really? You’re not hungry?”
“A little. But I won’t die if I don’t eat right now.”
“Are you implying that you’ll die if we don’t cuddle right now?”
“Yes,” he replied dramatically. “Absolutely. I’ll simply perish if I don’t get my Y/N time this instant.”
You couldn’t help but snicker at that, finally giving in. Not forgetting about his drop in temperature, you made sure to pull the blankets up around you two before you fully snuggled in, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into his chest.
“Alright, alright. Slow your roll on your imminent decay. I’m right here, Sung. Like I said last night, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You did say that, didn’t you?” He mused, tangling your legs together.
“Yeah, I did.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. “Uhm… How much do you remember about your shifts?”
“While I’m fully shifted? Not a lot usually. Immediately before and after? Depends. Why? Did I do something?”
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the feeling of his teeth on your neck, of him asking to bite you, to give you his mating bite. Did he remember that? Sungchan wasn’t bringing it up… Surely he’d mention it again now if he remembered, or was serious about it.
“Well, afterwards… you were kind of saying some stuff. I just didn’t know if you—”
“Hey… look at me?” Sungchan requested as he leaned back from you. When you’d picked up your head to oblige, he looked you in the eye with no hesitation, his face entirely serious now. “Of course I meant it when I said I love you. I’m sorry I said it to you for the first time looking like a hot fucking mess, and again now not in much better shape, but I mean it all the same. I love you, my Y/N. So much. So goddamn much I feel like I could explode if I don’t tell you every 5 seconds. Except you might get kind of tired of me if I did that.”
Despite it not being the words you were expecting to hear, you were beaming from ear to ear, even managing out a choked laugh through the happy tears suddenly welling up in your eyes.
“Woah, hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry with how bad my confession was,” he joked, wiping at the first tear as it slipped down your cheek.
“Oh shut it!” You chastised him. “What have I told you about being a sweetheart?”
“Own up to it or don’t do it at all,” he recited dutifully. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you, so fucking much and I’m going to explode if you don’t say it back maybe? But no pressure? Also, I love you. And no pressure to say it back right now.”
“Oh my god, Sung, I love you too,” you laughed, grabbing his face in both of your hands to pull his mouth to yours. “So fucking much.”
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Dr. and Mr. Jung lived in a two-story townhouse just a couple blocks over from campus. The old bricks on the face of it were a warm red, and as you got closer, you saw that there were shimmery flecks mixed into the rogue.
“How old are these buildings?” You asked Sungchan, reaching out to touch one of the bricks around the entryway. “There’s dragon scales in the brick.”
“There’s what?” Sungchan’s eyes widened, and you pointed to a particularly large chunk, about the size of the head of a thumbtack. It reflected amber in the setting sun.
“Dragon scales. They used to be incorporated into building materials to make them more durable. You know, before integration. There’s been really big debates at like, every open-door City Hall meeting about if we should keep buildings up that have dragon scale brick in them or not, since so many dragons had to be killed to make them.”
“Oh my god.”
“So far it looks like they’re going to move towards tearing down abandoned buildings made of dragon scale brick at least.”
“How-How many dragons? Were killed?”
“We have no way to know. And the thing is, you can gather dragon scales without hurting a dragon, it’s just not going to be enough to make dragon scale brick of any usable quantity.”
“So it should’ve never been made.”
“No. It shouldn’t have.” You turned away from the wall with a shake of your head. “Anyway, that’s why I was asking how old these homes are. They’re by the university, so pretty old, I guess.”
“I have no clue. You’d have to ask my parents.” Sungchan ushered you towards the door with a hand on the small of your back.
“I don’t think I will. Not incredible meet-the-parents dinner conversation, really.”
“As much I want to say they’ll love you anyway, which they would, I do have to agree with you. Maybe save the existential horror of the materials of their home for the second dinner.” He kissed the top of your head.
“Will do.” You nodded. “Now, are you going to knock on the door, or are we going to keep standing out here like we’re casing the place?”
“Oh, sorry, you can’t hear that. My mom’s—”
And then the sound of the front door unlocking came, and you looked up at Sungchan questioningly. It was opened by a face familiar to you only from pictures.
Dr. Jung was already beaming at you. “Hello! Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you, Y/N. I was grading in my office and could hear you two coming up the steps, got a bit excited.” She gestured to the window next to the brick that you’d been discussing.
Dr. Jung was an economics professor at your university, though you’d never taken a class from her personally.
“I was about to give you a heads up,” Sungchan patted you on the back. “I heard her footsteps, that’s—”
“—why you weren’t knocking. Of course.” You nodded, then turned your focus back to Sungchan’s mother. “It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Jung.”
“You too, Y/N.” She was still smiling ear-to-ear as she reached forward to take your hands. “You’ll have to tell me more about the history of these dragon scale bricks, I truly had no idea.”
You looked at Sungchan in alarm, and he just shrugged. But she was already leading you into the house by your hand, your boyfriend trailing behind.
“Mom, I don’t even get a hug? No hello for your own son?” Sungchan complained dramatically, closing the door behind you three.
“Well since you’re going to be a big baby about it.” A man’s voice suddenly joined in as you had emerged from the front hallway into the living room. You turned around towards the stairs to see Sungchan’s dad standing on the bottom step, still not eye level with his son even with the added height. He wrapped his arms around Sungchan with an affectionate fake growl, and your boyfriend eagerly hugged his dad back.
Mr. Jung was a middle school science teacher, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was where Sungchan got his love for science from. He never said it specifically, but he’d told you plenty of stories of doing home science experiments with his dad as a kid.
“Hey, Dad.” He was grinning so brightly as he pulled away, then eagerly gestured to you. “Dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my dad.”
“Jung Yoonseo, how are you?” The other human greeted you. But your gaze got stuck on the dip of Mr. Jung’s shoulder, where his neck met shoulder, and two-thirds of a dark bite mark were visible above the collar of his shirt.
You tore your eyes away from the mating bite to look up at his face, smiling again. “I’m good, Mr. Jung, thank you. How are you?”
“I’m very well.” He nodded to you, starting towards the connected kitchen.
“Oh, honey, Y/N was just telling me that apparently our home is made of dragon scale brick,” Dr. Jung pulled you into the kitchen as well.
Mr. Jung turned around from where he’d started peeling a vegetable to look at his wife curiously. “Sorry, you said dragon scales, Jieun?”
“Yes! Go on, Y/N. I didn’t catch much of what you were telling Sungchan, I came to get you all as soon as I heard that you’d arrived.”
You looked to Sungchan imploringly, but he just shrugged again, then mouthed something that looked like ‘go for it’ to you. So you inhaled, and went for it.
“Dr. and Mr. Jung, do you two know how old your house is?”
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“I think that went pretty well,” Sungchan declared as the two of you walked down the sidewalks hand-in-hand later that evening. He had a bag filled with containers of leftovers in his other hand.
“Glad you think so. I felt like Renjun, giving people impromptu lectures at the most out-of-pocket times,” you scoffed.
“Yeah, and they loved it. My parents are big nerds like you.”
“You’re literally a STEM major.”
“Point taken.”
“So your dad wasn’t just being nice when he invited me over for tea, then?”
Your boyfriend looked down at you with wide eyes. “When did he do that?”
“When you and your mom were packing up the leftovers and he was showing me the backyard. I forgot how it came up, but I’d mentioned the boba shop, and he said if I liked tea, then I was welcome to come over for a cup anytime. Since he’s still on summer break and everything.”
Despite the smile that had creeped across his face as you spoke, you furrowed your brow suspiciously.
“What? What are you smiling for?”
He surprised you by smooching your temple loudly. “I was wrong. It didn’t go pretty well. It went great.”
“Being invited over for tea is a good sign?” You asked cautiously.
“Definitely.” He stopped the two of you on the deserted sidewalk, letting go of your hand just to immediately seize your waist, pulling you towards him. The surprised noise you were about to make got muffled by Sungchan sealing his lips over yours. You curled a hand around the back of his neck as the other gripped onto his forearm for some kind of stability as he kissed you breathless.
As he pulled back to look down at you with that same big, tender grin, you couldn’t help but let out an airy giggle.
“And what was that for?”
“I love you. And do I need a reason to kiss my amazing, beautiful girlfriend?” He punctuated each of the last three words with more kisses to your cheek this time, making you giggle again.
“Like that, in the middle of the street? Yes.” You pinched his side teasingly, earning a laugh as he squirmed away from your touch. You made sure to tack on an, “I love you too, Sung.”
“We’re not in the street, we’re on the sidewalk.”
Before you could give your retort, he’d caught your lips in another sweet kiss, and all banter was gone from your mind.
“Are you staying at my place?” Sungchan asked when you’d finally restarted your journey.
“Let’s do my place tonight, hm?” You suggested, squeezing his hand.
He tilted his head, an adorable, confused pout on his face. “Why?”
“Because I don’t have some poor roommate that we’ll be annoying.”
“Says the girl who used to specifically ask if Shotaro was going to be home before she’d agree to come over,” he snickered.
“I did that because I had a huge crush on you and you’d friendzoned me, you ass.” You elbowed him in the side teasingly. “Having Taro there made it easier to ignore the aching hole in my chest whenever I looked at you, you dick.”
You landed a gentle mock punch that was in actuality a light tap to his chest, but Sungchan was no longer laughing. He looked down at you, pensive sadness on his features.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to articulate how much I regret putting you through that. You didn’t deserve to ever feel… an aching hole, because of me.”
“Ah, Sung.” You hugged his arm to your chest, resting your head against his shoulder as you walked. “I know you would’ve never done that to me on purpose. But if we can’t laugh about it—about the uh, admittedly kind of funny scenario we put ourselves in before we started dating—then we’ll never be able to really move past it. We’re together now, and that’s what really matters.”
He sighed. “I agree. I just… I don’t think I’m past the feeling bad part yet.”
“That’s okay.” You squeezed his upper arm reassuringly. “Just don’t beat yourself up on my account. Alright?”
“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the small smile in his voice.
“So, my place?”
“I just remembered that my mom put in some leftovers for Shotaro. Kelp rolls.”
“We should probably take that to him, huh?”
“Yeah…”
“Hopefully that’ll be enough to counteract us existing around him.”
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Shotaro was enthused to receive his kelp rolls, not even commenting on you staying the night as he excitedly took his food into his room.
“You want something to eat?” Sungchan asked as he put the rest of the leftovers in the fridge.
“No. I ate plenty at your parents’ house.” You shook your head. Stretching and yawning, you started towards the hallway with their bedrooms. “You make your little post-dinner snack. Feed your half-werewolf metabolism. I’m going to get ready for bed.”
“Feel free to take a sweatshirt or something.”
“Way ahead of you.”
Your boyfriend found you a few minutes later already curled up in his bed, bundled up in just one of his oversized hoodies. He scooted in next to you, encouraging you to move your head from the pillow to his lap as you went to snuggle up to his side instead.
“Whatcha eating, Sung?” You mumbled, mouth splitting into another yawn. All you could tell was that he had a bowl of some kind of finger food, as he’d brought no utensil in with him.
“Some fruit. Strawberries, honeydew, blueberries… Oh, you want a grape?”
“I’m still not entirely convinced that you’re not trying to fatten me up to eat, you know?” You said teasingly. “Like some mix of the witch from Hansel and Gretel and the big bad wolf from Little Red Riding Hood…”
“Banana slice?”
But you knew it was just his instinct to feed you, so you always indulged him to a certain extent—not so much that you felt like you were going to burst, but enough to calm his need to know that you were well-fed.
“Mm, grape.” You opened your mouth like a baby bird. He deposited the fruit on your tongue, but due to how you were laying, it landed more-so on the inside of your cheek. You had to sit up and prop yourself up on an elbow to chew and swallow properly without choking, but then promptly laid back down, nuzzling your face into his thigh.
Just a few seconds later, he asked you through a full mouth, “Baby? You want another?”
“I’m good, Sung, thank you,” you replied sweetly. “Your dad’s a really good cook, I ate a lot at dinner.”
“Yeah, he is,” he agreed proudly.
“Now finish your food so you can cuddle me to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And less than ten minutes later, you were laid on your side, pulled flush to Sungchan’s front, your back to his chest and your legs tangled together. You had one of his arms ensnared, fingers laced loosely with his as you wrapped the limb tighter around you. His face was buried in your neck, planting absentminded kisses to your skin as you were gently floating between waking and sleep.
“I used to think you liked him, for a little bit, you know,” Sungchan murmured next to your ear, clearly a sudden blurting from his own train of thought that you weren’t privy to.
Oh, this sounded like a conversation. You squinted your eyes open blearily, turning over in his arms to face him. Throwing a leg over his to pull him closer, you offered him a sleepy smile and asked, “Who?”
He readjusted to keep holding you like that, one hand resting where the bottom of the hoodie had ridden up around your hip, settling on your thigh. His thumb and forefinger messed with the hem of the sweater, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in the dim light as he swallowed.
“Shotaro. Since you’d always ask if he was going to be at the apartment. But your heartrate never went up around him.”
You hummed in amusement, reaching out to gently pinch the tip of his nose. “Endearing that you were listening to my heartbeat to figure out if I liked your roommate.”
“But it did… go up around me sometimes. I knew that,” he confessed, his eyes locking on yours, desperate. Like he was searching, asking you for something. Absolution, penance, maybe. “And it made me happy. Even though I had told myself that I shouldn’t have you. It still… made me happy at first, but then it’d make me sad. That you hadn’t moved on. Because I thought you’d deserved to move on.”
But he’d done no sin that you needed to cleanse him of in your eyes. He was a guy who made a few mistakes and then finally made the right choice. After you smacked him upside the head with it, but nobody was perfect. The person who really needed to forgive him was himself. He was still stuck in the past, seemingly afraid that he could lose you at any moment. But he wasn’t going to, and you wished he would just believe that.
“But you got me now,” you promised, cradling his face and wishing he could feel just how much you really meant those words.
“I do.” He brought his hand up to cover your own, and you felt like you could cry. “I do got you now.”
“And I’ve got you.”
“You’ve always had me. I just hadn’t told you yet. But you’ve always had me,” Sungchan admitted with a bittersweet smile, curling his hand around yours.
You surged forward to close the minute gap between the two of you, kissing him so hard that your lips hurt. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands grabbed at his shoulders, his clothes, anything to pull him closer to you. He was hugging you tight to him, thank god, because it felt like you could never be close enough. Your bones ached with a need to break the laws of physics and exist in the same time and space as him, and a tiny part of you believed that if you just wanted it enough, if you tried hard enough, maybe you could.
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“You know, I thought all I’d feel was relief when you and Sungchan finally got together, but instead I’m plagued by near constant nausea.”
You stopped in your tracks in the hallway. You’d been trying to quietly pee then hurry back into Sungchan’s room the next morning, but instead, you spun around to face Shotaro, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
He was standing in front of his door at the opposite end of the hall, arms crossed over his chest.
“Maybe go see a witch about that. It sounds serious,” you wrinkled your nose teasingly. Thankfully you’d had the wherewithal to pull on a pair of sleep shorts you had stashed in Sungchan’s drawers before leaving his room that morning.
“Yeah, that and my recently developed insomnia, too,” he scoffed. “Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep, you know.”
Your skin burned as you started shuffling backwards towards Sungchan’s room. “Sorry! Bye!”
You slammed the door behind you, startling Sungchan awake.
“Huh?” He blinked sleepily, lifting his head to look around.
You launched yourself back into bed, burying your face in the pillow in shame.
“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” Sungchan’s voice was thick and deep this early in the morning, but you couldn’t even focus on that. He rubbed your back soothingly as you shook your head.
You turned your head just enough to clear your mouth to speak. “We should’ve gone to my place... No roommate...”
“Oh, Shotaro giving you a hard time?”
“‘Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep.’” You did your best Shotaro impression. “I don’t think it was enough kelp rolls.”
“Ah, I’m-I’m sorry, baby.” Sungchan kept rubbing your back, but you could hear that he was holding back laughter.
You rolled onto your back, shooting him a glare before staring up at the ceiling. “Why do I always let you talk me into staying at your place?”
“Because you love me,” he replied in a sing-song voice, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheekbone, near your hairline.
“Yeah, but I mean, why do we always end up at your apartment, Sung? Why do you never want to come over to mine?”
The teasing dropped from his tone as he straightened up slightly. “It’s not like that, Y/N. I like spending time with you, no matter where we are. We could be in the cold vacuum of space, and I’d be fine with it as long as we were hanging out. And, in space suits so we didn’t die, you know. But, it’s just... I don’t know, I like having you here. In my space. It feels like everything’s right in the universe, like I know everything will be okay, that you’re going to be okay. As stupid as that sounds—”
“No, Sung, it’s not stupid.” You shifted to face him, brushing some hair back from his face. The same anxiety that you’d seen the night before was painted across his features again, and you didn’t like that you were seeing it more and more often. His sentiments weren’t stupid, they were loving, but the root of them concerned you. Was he constantly plagued by worries of something bad happening to you?
“Not at all...” You reiterated softly, running your thumb over the crease between his brows. “Sung? Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you have class today but… can I stay here? While you’re on campus? Then we can do something together when you get back. We can go downtown or something.”
You could feel his face relax again under your touch, and he nodded with a smile.
“Yeah, of course. If you think you can handle being around Shotaro for that long. He’s off work today.”
“I’ll manage, somehow.”
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When it was finally time for Sungchan to go to class, though, you encountered an issue.
“Sung, you need to go to class,” you sighed, nudging him from where he had his arms wrapped around you. You’d been lounging on the couch when it struck time for him to finally depart for campus, but you were now dealing with a clingy werewolf.
“The professor doesn’t count attendance for a grade,” he grumbled. “I can skip.”
“You literally said this morning that you had a quiz today.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did, you liar,” you scoffed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “And you need to go take that quiz.”
Shotaro, meanwhile, was observing the entire thing from the threshold between the living room and the hallway, a fascinating mixture of equal parts disgust and amusement on his features. You looked at him pleadingly for any kind of assistance, and he rolled his eyes, but nevertheless helped you anyway.
“Sungchan, dude, seriously,” Shotaro sighed, his tone on the border of exasperation and understanding. “Y/N’s wearing your clothes, staying in our apartment, and you haven’t let her go for I think the past four hours straight, not even to pee. You’ve scented her up enough to last the next month, a few hours will be fine.”
Your jaw set as there was a sudden spark of recognition in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t follow that train of thought in the moment. Sungchan loosened his grip on you, sitting up and blinking as if woken from a trance. “R-Right. Sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s okay, Sung,” you smiled, standing up and yanking him to his feet as well. You practically dragged him towards the front door, shoving his backpack in his hands. “Now go, you’re going to be late.”
He looked down at you with a small, fond smile as well, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “Bye, love you.”
“I love you too.” You got up on your tiptoes to give him a fleeting kiss goodbye, and he wrapped an arm around you for a hug. You were worried that this was about to be another borderline hostage situation, but he took one more inhale near your neck, then let you go and straightened up.
“Okay. See you in a few.” He said, his hand on the door handle.
“Go, Sungchan.”
“Fine, fine. Bye.”
And with that, he was finally gone. You turned back around to Shotaro, letting out a sigh of relief. The siren just chuckled, shaking his head.
“Werewolves, dude.” He flopped onto the opposite side of the couch from where you and Sungchan had just been.
You sat back down, kicking your feet up and pulling out your phone. “Yeah. Werewolves...”
Shotaro started flicking through a streaming service to try to find something to watch. “Hey wait, shouldn’t he be scenting you less since he’s a half-werewolf?”
“I... don’t know,” you admitted. “There’s not really any sort of research on half-werewolves. We don’t know anything about what they ‘should’ be like. Not even one of those unethical case studies from the 1800s.”
“Huh. But like I was saying earlier, you two make me nauseous.”
“Just put on your trashy reality TV that we know you’re going to pick after scrolling around for 30 minutes.”
“The browsing is part of the experience.”
As Shotaro browsed on the TV then eventually picked a show, you searched on your phone. The Real Sirens of Diamond Bay was great background noise as you dug through the internet, and you barely even realized the time until your friend was calling for your attention from the kitchen.
“Hm?” You looked up from the forum post that you’d been reading.
“I asked if you wanted lunch.” He opened the fridge, taking out the containers of leftovers you and your boyfriend had brought home last night. “Or if only Sungchan could feed you.”
“Yeah, sure, I could eat.” You joined him in the kitchen, stretching out your back. “So you noticed that too, huh?”
“Oh, the pre-mating behaviors? Well, you did give me a very convenient list when you were still in your denial phase.”
You punched his arm, making him nearly drop the plates he’d just gotten from the cabinet.
“Ow!” He rubbed the spot with a pout, handing you one of the dishes. “Rude... I’m feeding you food from my fridge.”
“No, I’m letting you eat my leftovers,” you corrected him. “Dr. Jung made us take all the steamed buns because she knew they were my favorite.”
Shotaro had been loading said steamed buns up onto his plate, then started shoveling the rest of them onto yours. “Calm down, I wasn’t taking them all.”
You looked at the empty container with a sigh, putting half of yours back. “Well, we can’t just leave nothing for Sung.”
After you’d made your plates with minimal bickering and warmed them up, you took them to the small dining table in the corner of the living room to eat. Shotaro continued playing the episode he’d been on for ambiance as he engaged you in conversation.
“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” He asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”
You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”
“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”
“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”
“Gross.”
“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”
“Does it ever stop?”
You grimaced, “Well…”
“No?” Shotaro asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.
“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.
“After…?”
“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”
The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”
“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”
You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”
“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”
You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…
“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.
Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”
“Shotaro—”
“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”
“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”
“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”
“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”
You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”
“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”
“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”
“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”
“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”
“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”
“I… need to talk to some other people, I think.” You turned your eyes downwards as you tried to really think about it.
“That wasn’t a no! Hell yeah! I’m so going to be Sungchan’s best man!”
You rolled your eyes. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”
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As you finished up your lunch, your mind wouldn’t stop turning over what Shotaro had said. If Sungchan had been serious, would you say yes? You knew from class what the bite meant to werewolves within packs, but did it mean the same thing to Sungchan since he was half-werewolf? Did that even make a difference? Not to mention that you weren’t any part werewolf, the exchanging of bites was supposed to be an entire ritual similar to a couple exchanging rings on their wedding day. You couldn’t exactly bite him back. And the couple online was already legally married anyway…
Well, you did know one other werewolf/human couple that you could talk to, at least. You quickly texted Jeno.
[you: hey, are you home right now?]
Miraculously, he texted back almost immediately.
[jeno: yeah, just got back from a run]
[jeno: why?]
[you: mind if i come over really quick? need some advice on something with sung]
[jeno: oh sure]
[jeno: everything okay? should i have tissues out…?]
[you: omg no like werewolf stuff]
[jeno: oh good]
[you: thanks though. be over in a few]
Standing up from the couch, you stood off to the side of the TV so you didn’t block Shotaro’s show as you announced, “I’ll be right back.”
The siren gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement as his focus remained on the screen. You nodded before hurrying to pull your shoes on. The last thing to do before leaving was shoot off a text to Sungchan.
[you: hey sung, i’ve got a quick errand to run. i should be back before you get home from class, but just in case i’m not, i’ll be coming right back to the apartment! love you!]
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“Hey, Jeno, thanks for having me over on such short notice.” You offered your friend a nervous smile as you stepped into his apartment.
“I’m not your professor that you’re seeing outside of his office hours, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind you. “Don’t worry about it. What’s up? You said it’s something about Sungchan?”
“Is your girlfriend here?” You looked around the living room as the two of you sat down.
Jeno tilted his head curiously. “No, she’s at the bakery this afternoon. Did you need her too?”
“Not necessarily, it’s just...” You dropped your head into your hands, frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Try to start at the beginning?”
“Right. Sung let me be with him on the last full moon.”
“Wow. I haven’t even done that.” Jeno sounded genuinely impressed.
“Well… Uhm, do you know? About Sung?”
He stared at you blankly. “Need you to be way more specific here. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
You tried to pick your words carefully to give him enough of a hint if he did know without outright telling him if he didn’t know. You were sure that Sungchan wouldn’t mind if Jeno knew that he was half-werewolf, but you still didn’t feel like that was your place to go around telling people. “About his parents?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Your friend nodded in recognition. “Half-werewolf, that’s why he was able to have you there, duh.”
“Anyway, when he was coming back out of the shift afterwards, he mentioned us... he mentioned the werewolf mating bite.”
His eyes widened as he took a short inhale before slowly starting with, “Well, I can tell that you two haven’t done that.”
“I figured. So, with Sung being half-werewolf, he’s been having a difficult time with the scenting. I think because he can smell it enough to notice it, but not as strongly as full werewolves...”
“He would have a higher threshold for scenting in order to register it, right. Hence your current attire, I’m guessing?” Jeno gestured to the large black leather jacket you were currently drowning in, which was much too hot for the sweltering summer heat that was still going on outside, but still a better option than the hoodie you had previously been in.
You gave a resigned, what-can-you-do smile. “Yeah. And he’s not going to say anything about it, but I know he’s going to be stressed when I see him after this and he can smell you and Jaemin.”
“Oh, definitely.” He snorted lightly, not judgmental, but more sympathetic. “Let me guess: he gets all needy and clingy? Likes to bury his face in your neck?”
“Exactly. And the cuddles would be nice but, I don’t know... I hate seeing him like this, you know? So... anxious. It’s not like him.” You sighed, beginning to feel more guilty the longer you stayed here and got wrapped up in the smells of other people.
“It’s the first time in his life the wolf side is in charge of him and not the other way around. He’s really understanding what it’s like being a full werewolf outside of the full moon, of course he’s not having a good time.”
“Is it like that for you? With her?”
“Kind of. I can smell everything better, so I can smell the subtler things. Without going into too much detail, all those instincts aren’t on edge for me as much as Sungchan’s are right now. And we also figured something else out.”
“Something else?” You asked curiously. Last time you saw Jeno’s girlfriend, you couldn’t remember her having a bite mark. But maybe there was something that hadn’t been covered in your classes. After all, several millennia of the cultures, histories, and customs of fourteen species just couldn’t be fit into one undergrad degree. Your bachelor’s was nothing more than a survey of the two fields, to give you the broad strokes and the tools to start wading in.
Jeno pulled on a leather cord that you hadn’t even noticed was hanging around his neck, bringing a pendant out from under his collar. It was a pale white stone, flat, the size of a coin, with opalescent flecks that caught the light as he showed it to you.
“Moonstone. We have matching ones. They’re even enchanted so that when I…” he wrapped his whole hand around the stone “…hold onto it a little tighter, it reacts, and she can feel hers warm up too. So she knows I’m thinking about her.”
“And it helps with your shifts. That’s really sweet, Jeno,” you said, watching as he tucked it back under his shirt, presumably to keep it in skin-to-skin contact so he could feel if she squeezed her gem back in response.
“But that’s what works for us. It needs to be whatever works for you guys.”
You looked down at your fingers nervously. “But you two haven’t even…”
“I haven’t bit her?” The werewolf said bluntly.
“Yeah, and you’ve been together for a lot longer than us.”
“We’re not you and Sungchan. We may have set you guys up, but we’re not you.”
“You set us up? What?” That little off-hand comment had stolen your focus for the moment.
Jeno’s brow furrowed. “Did you never get the full story of how you got sent on that first blind date with him?”
“I mean, Jaemin had shown me a picture of him from your Instagram account, and I knew that you two knew each other through your girlfriend. But no, I guess I never did get the whole story. Jaemin said something about a deal, I think…”
His wide eyes and ‘oh shit’ face said it all. With a wince, he sighed, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you this…”
“What? Jeno, come on,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together in front of you like you were kneeling at an altar.
“Ah, fine, fine.” He gave in easily, regret immediately coming to his features as you perked up, eager to hear the story. “We were all playing soccer one day and her—” he jerked his thumb at the empty space on the couch beside him that the both of you had both been vaguely referring to whenever you mentioned his girlfriend. “—and Sungchan made this bet. You see, something had happened at the park that day. There was another werewolf there, and he called my girlfriend something nasty. And Sungchan was saying that because of stuff like that, he wanted to just stick with dating other werewolves. He also kept saying something about love making my brain rot. It made sense in context. Sort of.”
You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt Jeno for fear that you’d get him off-track and lose your opportunity.
“Anyway, they made a bet that if she was on Sungchan’s team and did her best in the game against me, then Sungchan would let her set him up on one blind date with anybody, werewolf or not. And he wasn’t allowed to intentionally bomb it, he had to actually put in a genuine effort.”
“And I was that date…” You surmised, several pieces falling into place. Specifically, Jaemin and Donghyuck’s initial pitch of Sungchan to you.
“Jaemin suggested you, and we thought the two of you would be a good fit.”
You added humorously, “And I’m not a werewolf.”
“Well, yeah.” Jeno ducked his head sheepishly like he was a puppy that was afraid you were going to notice the shoes that he had chewed up behind him. “But we really did put a lot of thought into it, I swear. And then when we heard he made you walk out in ten minutes, we were actually going to make him go on another one because we thought that he had sabotaged his one with you.”
“Amazingly, no, I think that really was his best effort at the time.” You snickered.
“Now I feel like I have to apologize for subjecting you to him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, he said he didn’t want to go on another date, he had to fix things with you first. She let up on him after that. Apparently believed his mind had been changed.”
“I don’t know how a ten-minute conversation where he practically accused me of being a werewolf fetishist for dating two werewolves, and I asked about his major and told him about my cheating ex could’ve possibly changed his mind but— Hey, look how far we’ve come.”
“And now you know the story of how you two ended up on that ten-minute, awful, terrible blind date that I almost wish we didn’t send you on now that I’ve heard what happened on it.”
“I’ve had worse dates.”
“But like I was saying. We—” he pointed between himself and the empty space proxy of his girlfriend “—are not you two. Just like in human relationships, the big steps happen at different times for everyone, there isn’t one right answer to when a werewolf couple take on each other’s bites. There’s even less of a blueprint for werewolf-human couples. So as far as I’m concerned, you and Sungchan? A half-werewolf and human couple? You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.”
“Unprecedented…” You repeated to yourself, drumming your fingers along your knee.
You and Jeno chatted for a few more minutes about this and that, but you soon decided that you’d have to be going. Sungchan had texted you the full sequence of finishing class, leaving campus, and arriving home while you’d been talking, and there was a pinch at your heart as you could imagine him getting more anxious with each passing minute that you weren’t there. And then there were the smells that you were going to have to deal with once you did return, too.
As Jeno walked you to the front door, your eyes drifted over to the kitchen, an idea popping into your head.
“Hey, Jeno? Can I have a glass of water?”
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“Sung?” You called out into the seemingly empty apartment as you turned to close and lock the front door up. “I’m— oof!”
You were knocked off kilter by 186cm of werewolf, barely catching yourself against the door on your forearms to avoid bonking your forehead into it. Sungchan had his arms wrapped around your waist, already nosing around your hair and neck.
“Hi…” Sungchan said against your cheek, his tone apologetic. He got too excited, he didn’t mean to almost KO you like that.
Slowly, you reached over to finish flicking the deadbolt into the locked position. Then, you blindly stretched a hand back to pat him on the head. “Hey, hey.” You kept your voice calm and soothing.
He was getting down to the collar of the shirt you were wearing—one of his t-shirts, and you could feel him shifting to hold you tighter. He’d definitely noticed something was off.
“You know, I’m really sorry, Sung,” you began, turning your tone mournful and looking down at the wet patch on the front of your shirt. “I know this is your shirt, I feel really bad about this, but I spilled water on myself while I was out. Do you think I can throw this one in your wash here and borrow a new one?”
He immediately perked up at this, “Yeah, of course!”
You smiled. “Thanks.”
Success.
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After your dinner and night out together in downtown, you ended up back in Sungchan’s room, fitted in your new crewneck sweater—this one for a concert he’d gone to last year. You were reclined between his legs against his chest as you half-watched him game, half-scrolled on your phone, and half-snoozed. You’d been playing the game in multi-player mode with him earlier but put your controller aside some time ago when you’d let out a couple loud yawns. Ruminating thoughts of your conversation with Jeno had kept you from fully falling asleep, though.
“Sung?” You waited for a pause on a loading screen to call for his attention.
“Mm?” He hummed back to let you know he was listening, even as the new map loaded in. He hadn’t moved his character yet, fingers frozen as they hovered over the buttons.
“Can we talk for a second?”
“Of course.” Your boyfriend quickly saved and exited the game, setting the controller beside yours on the nightstand.
He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you tighter to him, resting his chin on your shoulder as he waited attentively for you to start with whatever you needed to talk about. You could hear him take a pause to sniff the air around you, and a small, disgruntled sound came from the back of his throat almost immediately.
“Face-to-face?” You requested quietly.
“Right, sorry.”
He loosened his arms, reluctantly letting them fall from around you.
Pushing yourself up off his legs into a full sitting position, you turned around in place, still finding yourself between his thighs. He straightened up a little bit from his spot against the headboard.
You reached out to take his hands in yours. “This is something that really stresses you out, isn’t it? The smells?”
“It’s… I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like…” He took one of his hands back to run his fingers through his hair, and your chest hurt to see the distress on his features. “Imagine being able to constantly see something right in the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head, you can’t actually look at it. You know it’s there, but you can never actually get a proper look. Humans never know it’s there, and werewolves get to look at it head-on. But I don’t get either. It’s terrible.”
“Ah, Sung… That sounds awful, baby.” You grimaced sympathetically, unable to imagine how wound up and panicky he must be all the time. You just wanted to cut this conversation short right now to wrap your arms around him, rub his back and tell him you were never going to leave him again. But for right now, all you could do was squeeze his hand tighter, and hope he got the message.
“I know that sometimes you smell right and sometimes you don’t. But I don’t know why, usually. And it’s not like you smell bad like you need a shower or anything. But like… ah, I can’t describe it.” He groaned, rubbing his face. “I don’t even know what I’m smelling all the time. But it’s just—”
“Not right. I get it, that made sense. And it’s better when I wear your clothes, or spend time with you? Here?”
“I’m sorry…” He said weakly.
“Woah, hey, where in there was I asking for an apology? I’m trying to figure this out together, okay? Not make you feel bad for being unable to turn your nose off. I don’t like that you’re this stressed all the time, you know?”
“In my normal, thinking brain I know you should—and I want you to—be able to wear whatever clothes you want to wear. And I’m glad that you’re spending time with your friends, and I want to go wherever you want to go, whether that’s out somewhere, or to your place. I loved our date night out tonight. It’s not those actual things that bother me at all, it’s just that you smell different.”
“I know, I know.” You reassured him, continuing to hold his hand and gently rubbing his forearm with your free hand. “So maybe there’s something more permanent we can do to help you with the smells?”
Sungchan met your gaze uncertainly. “Permanent?”
“You mentioned it after your last shift. Me taking your bite. I found one other half-werewolf/human couple who did it, online, and they said it helped with the scent anxiety.”
“Y/N…” He breathed your name out.
“I understand if you’re not ready for it. I know it’s a really big step for werewolves. But I had to put it out there, if there’s any possibility that it’ll help.”
“This is not how I imagined this conversation going at all.”
“What?”
“The human reassuring the werewolf that it’s okay if the werewolf isn’t ready for a mating bite yet.” He laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh my god. We really are one-of-a-kind, huh?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle too. “When you put it like that, that is pretty funny. You thought you were going to have to convince me, huh?”
“I wasn’t going to badger you into it if you didn’t want it, that’s for sure. But I mean, I didn’t bring it up again after my last shift because I wanted to do it more… I don’t know, romantically than being a sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess in your lap. I just hadn’t figured out how to do that yet because I’ve been too focused on spending every spare second I can with you.”
“I thought you were a very cute sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess when you asked me last time,” you giggled.
“Right, thanks.”
“So, do you want to do it, then?”
“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”
Jeno’s words came back to you: You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be doing anything any specific way, Sung. We just do it. But if you want to ask me, go for it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. After a few beats of silence, though, you pinched his thigh teasingly, “I’m waiting.”
“What—Right now? Really putting me on the spot.” Sungchan rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Well when else—”
“No, I’ve got it.” He squared his shoulders, face turning serious as he turned his eyes to you. Briefly kissing the back of your fingers first, he began, his voice much shakier than you had expected, “Y/N, I’m ready to give you my mating bite, if you will accept it. But I don’t want it to just be me biting you. I-I want you to do whatever you need to do to make it feel complete to you, too. Since you can’t give me one back. If that’s okay with you?”
Despite you (mostly) knowing what was coming, you still unexpectedly found yourself tearing up as you went to nod your head yes. “Of course, Sung. That’d be perfect, yes. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out, but yes, I love that.”
“I love you.”
You stood up on your knees to wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss before burying your face in his collar. “I love you, too.”
Sungchan hugged you back tightly, pulling you back with him into almost the same position as before, with you against his chest. He pressed kisses to any part of you that he could access, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your ear. You turned your head enough so that the next one he could plant on your lips, a sweet, loving kiss.
“Ah…” He sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, a bright smile on his face.
“What?” You traced over the smile lines at the corner of his eye.
He was almost nose-to-nose with you when his beautiful brown eyes were open again. Looking at you, he admitted freely, “I’m just… so happy.”
“Me too.” You beamed.
“And I can’t believe I almost let myself miss out on this, on you, so many times.”
“Let’s see… the night we actually got together.” You teased, ticking the instances off on your fingers.
“Mm-hm.” A pink flush was starting to creep up Sungchan’s neck.
“Valentine’s Day at the boba shop. Which you owe me emotional damages for, by the way.”
“Yeah. Sorry…” The pink had overtaken his neck and was starting to flush his cheeks.
“Our first date.”
Completely red-faced, he nodded and sighed. “Like I said, I’m just happy that—”
“Oh, and the bet.”
“Huh?” He was entirely frozen, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes.
“I saw Jeno today,” you stated.
“Yes, I did smell him when you came home.”
“I finally got the full story of how you ended up on our blind date, Sung.”
“Listen, I am a proud member of the Love-Rotten Brains Club now.” He tightened his arms around you and nuzzled his nose along your cheek and neck as he spoke, making his lips brush over your skin in ghosts of kisses. “I’m the president and the whole board and the social media intern and whatever else. Never have I ever been more proud of being wrong. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our lives.”
“Ah!” You squirmed and laughed as he was over a ticklish spot. “Alright, you don’t have to do that. But I’m glad they pushed you out of your comfort zone.”
Sungchan let up, allowing you to simply rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“To my credit, I was the one who offered the terms of that bet in the first place.”
“Really? You had to know that they were definitely going to set you up with someone who was not a werewolf, right?”
“I knew. I figured I could make polite small talk for an hour and be done with my end.”
You couldn’t help but laugh loudly, from the gut. “Oh, baby, if polite small talk was your goal, then you failed miserably.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” he said remorsefully.
“Now, I’ve got to know.” You poked his chest pointedly. “Everyone seems convinced that you were like, in love with me and a changed man from that one plane crash of a conversation. Shotaro says that you kept walking around talking about how you wanted to apologize to me for weeks after. Jeno and his girlfriend didn’t set you up on another date despite you not really holding up your end because she was content that you had changed your mind. So?”
Sungchan’s chest rose and fell under you with a deep breath, and he took a pause as if piecing together his thoughts before responding. “Even if we didn’t end up meeting again, I think that date with you was always going to be an important lesson for me, about getting my head out of my ass. I’m just glad I got to take what I learned back to you and apologize and show you that. Like, yeah, our first date was only a few minutes, but I kind of hate to admit that I thought about it for weeks afterwards, because that sounds like weirdo behavior. I mean, literally until the night we saw each other at the boba place. It’s not that it was even romantic at that point, it was more guilt than anything else. I knew I was in the wrong, and I felt awful that I might not be able to tell you that I knew that.”
“I’m glad you found me again at the boba shop. Not a lot of guys would’ve had the guts to actually apologize. Probably would’ve grabbed their drink and ran. Or ran as soon as they saw me and not even ordered.”
“I just wish I had the guts to actually ask you out that night.”
“Me too. But I’m not entirely blameless either. The start of our relationship isn’t a weight that falls solely on your shoulders just because you’re the guy, or the werewolf, or whatever.” You shrugged. “And we figured it out eventually anyway.”
“Yeah, we did.” Sungchan pressed a kiss to your forehead.
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Stopping in front of a familiar red brick townhouse, you ran up the couple short steps to knock on the front door before you could psych yourself out. You and Sungchan had decided to go through with the mating bite after the next full moon in one week, which was a couple days after the end of the summer semester. It gave him time to focus on his finals, and fell in the two-week break between the summer semester ending and the fall semester starting. This was going to be your last year as undergraduates, both you and Sungchan were graduating in the spring. You could hardly believe that you only had two more semesters left of your bachelor’s degree. And then you had grad school.
But right now, you had this: The front door being opened to reveal Mr. Jung to you, a smile immediately crossing his face as he recognized you. Even behind the glasses perched on his nose, you could easily see Sungchan in his features.
“Hi, Mr. Jung,” you greeted him politely.
“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He tucked the pen that was in his hand behind his ear. “Here to see Jieun?”
“Uh, no. Sorry to just drop in, but I wanted to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have time for some tea?”
He backed up, waving you in. “Sure, of course. Come on in.”
“Thank you.” You walked in with a grateful head dip, taking your denim Jasmine & Pearls baseball cap off as you passed over the threshold of the front door.
“Sungchan’s got a hat just like that,” Mr. Jung commented, leading you further into the home. “Or is that one his?”
“Oh, we actually won them in a game at the boba shop that Shotaro works at. We each have our own.” You looked over the purple embroidered logo fondly. “It’s kind of how we met. The second time.”
“Right, the boba tea place that Shotaro works at…” He echoed, recognition in his tone.
You followed Mr. Jung upstairs, which you didn’t get to see the last time you’d been over for dinner. He led you into a room with wallpaper depicting cartoon spaceships, planets, moons, and stars. The ceiling was covered in glow in the dark stars, and even the curtains were embroidered with star maps. The furniture itself was set up to be an adult’s home office, though, despite the shell having clearly been a child’s bedroom. There were still some shelves on the wall with trophies from science fairs and sports teams.
“Sorry, Jieun doesn’t drink tea, and the electric kettle in the kitchen is busted.” Mr. Jung half-explained why he’d brought you in here, another electric kettle in his hand. “Give me a second, I need to fill this up.”
“Of course,” you nodded, not entirely paying attention to what he was saying. Truly, you were still looking around at what was obviously Sungchan’s childhood bedroom.
Any kids’ furniture was gone and replaced with a desk, laptop, two chairs, and a printer. But you didn’t mind, as you leaned in to read the little engravings on his science fair trophies, and from his soccer teams, and baseball teams, and spelling bees, and mathletes competitions—god, you were dating a mathlete? He’d failed to mention that. There was a picture that looked like it was from a field trip from primary school, of his whole class in front of a space shuttle at the closest space and natural history museum. You squinted your eyes as you studied the picture, trying to figure out which one was your boyfriend.
“Sungchan’s the really tall one that you probably thought was a teacher’s helper,” Mr. Jung said humorously, announcing his return.
You turned around, the picture still in your hand, and your eyes immediately landed on the child he was referring to. Gangly, awkward, nearly a head taller than the rest of the kids, but still smiling so brightly—his crooked smile gap-toothed at that moment in time—because he was just so, so excited to be there.
“Ah, yep. There he is,” you smiled fondly, setting the picture back down.
“He gets his height from Jieun’s father. In case you were curious.”
Mr. Jung set the kettle back on its stand on the desk and started heating it up. He cleared a huge stack of papers off a second chair that was next to the desk, then gestured for you to sit. You did so, watching him take down a couple mugs from the shelves over his desk, and pull open the top drawer to root around in it.
“Jasmine?” He asked.
“That sounds lovely, thank you.”
He took out one tin, right as the kettle made a small ding to let him know the water was ready. Mr. Jung poured the water into both mugs first, then took out a couple small, empty pouches. He measured out the loose jasmine tea into each before sealing them and dropping them in the water.
“I figured you would’ve wanted to talk to Jieun about the bite,” he said as he handed you your cup. “Also, let me know if you want some honey for that.”
“I’m good on the honey, thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “So he told you already.”
The other human eased himself down into the office chair in front of you. “Yes, Sungchan’s been keeping us appraised. He was nervous to tell us at first, since you two haven’t been together very long.”
“Well, yes—”
“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s a decision for you and Sungchan to make, not his parents.”
That put you at ease again. “Thank you.”
“And it did make Jieun laugh when she heard that you were the one who did the mating bite talk with him. She likes you a lot. We both do.”
“Oh, thanks…”
“So why did you want to see me? I’m always happy to have some tea with you, but it sounded like you came with a purpose.”
“I wanted to ask about what it’s like? Taking a werewolf’s mating bite as a human?” You plunged into the conversation head-first. “The only other werewolf/human couple we know hasn’t done it, so I don’t really have a point of reference. Like, in class, I’ve learned about the sociocultural importance of it within werewolf packs for mated werewolf couples, but… Sung and I are a bit different, you know?”
Mr. Jung nodded thoughtfully. “I can tell you what my personal experience is, sure. It may be different for you since Sungchan is half-werewolf.”
“Right, of course.” You sat forward, interested. Blowing over your tea, you took your first sip, the lightness of the jasmine dancing across your tongue.
“The biting itself hurts at first. If we were werewolves, my understanding is that it’s nearly painless since their bodies are prepared for it. Humans, not so much.” He rubbed at his mark absentmindedly. “So it will hurt, which I’m sure my son will feel awful about. The shoulder will be a little sore for maybe half an hour or so after, but he won’t even draw blood. And it heals very fast, too. Then you’ll be left with the mark. Werewolves who receive bites have something happen biologically in them with pheromones or something. Again, we don’t have that going on. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be meaningful for you at all. That meaning will just manifest differently, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jung. That was really informative.” You took another drink of your tea.
“Of course. And you know that it’s not a one and done, right?” He warned.
You let out a half-chuckle. “I do know that, yes.”
“Again, I don’t know how much it’ll vary since Sungchan is half-human, but the bite will need to be refreshed more often than if you were both werewolves. My guess would be even more frequently than if he were a full werewolf, but that’s just purely speculation.”
“That would make sense. Thanks for the heads up.” You said, watching the metal of his wedding band glint as he lifted his mug to his mouth. “Can I ask… when did you take your wife’s bite?”
Mr. Jung sighed, a bittersweet sort of smile coming to his face. “It was before we were married. We’d been dating for some time at that point, a couple years. When we first got together, there were some… vocally unhappy members of her pack, but they did quiet down after a while. However, I think they hadn’t expected us to last so long, or that Jieun was just going through a phase or something. After a while they started pressuring Jieun to break up with me and date within her pack— or at least another werewolf. We’d discussed the bite once or twice before, and she thought that if I took it on, it would make everyone leave us alone; that we’d look like any other mated pair of werewolves. It ended up doing the opposite. It was way too far in the eyes of Jieun’s pack. I already knew at that point that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, so from there we eloped, settled down here, eventually had Sungchan a few years later.”
“And you all… have you spoken to her pack again since?”
“No. Unfortunately Sungchan has never been able to meet his family on that side. I suggested it to Jieun when she was pregnant, but she looked me in the eye and asked me if her pack reacted that way just to us being together, then could I imagine what sort of awful things they might think of our child? And would I want to put our baby through that just for some romanticized idea of family? I never brought it up again.”
“What about your family?”
There was no more bitterness in his smile anymore, just pure love and fondness. “They’ve been incredible. Never looked at Jieun or Sungchan as anything other than family. I know Sungchan would probably rather have the pack but—”
“What do you mean?” You couldn’t help but blurt out, furrowing your brow in confusion.
“I know he doesn’t tell people he’s half-human. And really, it’s alright. I get it, being a human isn’t anything to brag about.” Mr. Jung sounded like he really had come to terms with that, that his son would rather not tell people about his dad, about where he came from. Which wasn’t even true.
“That’s not why he tells people he’s only a werewolf. He’s not ashamed of you, or of what he is, on either side. He loves you, a lot. He does that because if he tells people that he’s half-human half-werewolf up front, they take it as a free pass to ask him weird questions.”
The man’s face relaxed, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “I never realized that. Thank you, Y/N.”
“And I mean, you didn’t need me to tell you that. Just look around you. It’s not like he’s exactly got wallpaper of spreadsheets and supply/demand graphs in here, right?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at that. “You’re right. It’s… comforting, though, to have outside confirmation.”
“I know, I get it.”
Mr. Jung gazed past you, out the window behind your head wistfully, taking another sip of his tea. “Growing up how he did… we—Jieun and I—were worried about him for a while, you know.”
“Worried how?”
“Well, that he’d spend so much time trying to protect himself from what our life was like, that he wouldn’t actually be looking for what he wanted.” Mr. Jung’s eyes focused back on yours then, and he smiled at you. “But as soon as he brought you home, we knew we could rest easy.”
“Because I’m human?”
“No, no,” he shook his head, lifting his mug to take another relaxed sip of his tea. “We would’ve loved you if you were human, werewolf, fairy, dragon, anything.”
“I’m sorry but… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“When he was in high school… he and his mom used to get into fights. Teenager hormones, half-werewolf teenager hormones… it was a lot. I know the fact that he was the only half-werewolf at his school, and the only werewolf not in a pack, too, didn’t help either. A lot of it was Sungchan not understanding his mother’s choices, either about leaving her pack, or dating a human in the first place, or not going back to the pack, or whatever else he decided she’d done wrong that day. He’d pretty much always declare that he’d make the ‘better choice.’” Mr. Jung put air-quotes around the last two words. “You know, have a werewolf partner so that his family wouldn’t get harassed, join his future partner’s pack, things like that. Sungchan mellowed out a bit more after he started college, and they started properly getting along again once he moved out last year.”
That mostly lined up with what Jeno had told you about his conversation with Sungchan at the park, his previous policy to only date other werewolves. You frowned thoughtfully, taking a long, slow drink of tea.
“Seeing how Sungchan is with you… he’s not hiding from anything,” he finished fondly.
“I’m sorry I was so dismissive before, Mr. Jung,” you finally said, your voice quiet and contemplative. “When you were talking about Sungchan not telling people he’s half-human. I jumped in completely forgetting that you’ve known him for his whole life… and there could’ve been a lot more reasons why you would’ve thought he was ashamed to be human.”
“Hey, Y/N.” Mr. Jung put his tea down on the desk, perching on the front of his seat to gently place a hand on your forearm. “It’s okay, really. For one, I know you meant well. And two, we know Sungchan very differently. Obviously, yes, I’ve known him his whole life, but you were lucky enough to meet him now, when he has some stuff already kind of figured out. And I’m very glad you did. Because trust me, you should not have met Sungchan in high school. I love my son, I’ve always loved him, but I definitely do not think that if you two had met in high school, you and I would be sharing a cup of tea right now.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, thinking not only of the high school version of Sungchan that had just been recollected to you by Mr. Jung, but also of yourself in high school, who honestly wasn’t any more put together. “Yeah… I don’t talk to any of my high school boyfriends anymore. Saw one of their moms at the grocery store last week actually, and she still recognized me, gave me a nasty look, and blocked the aisle with her shopping cart so I couldn’t get by her. I dated her son almost five years ago now, I think?”
The other human laughed, giving your arm a couple pats before taking his hand away and reclining back in his desk chair again. “Not to mention, if we both had known him his entire life, then I wouldn’t get to tell you any of the fun stories about him as a kid. Has he told you he was a mathlete?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Team captain junior and senior year. They were semi-finalists both years he was captain and even won the State series his senior year.”
“Did he have like a little dweebus uniform or something?”
“Polo shirt, khaki cargo shorts, the whole nine.”
“Please tell me you have pictures.”
“Oh yeah, him and Shotaro.”
“Taro too?!”
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[you: attached image]
[you: attached image]
[taro: HOW DID YOU GET THOSE?????????]
[taro: WHAT THE HELL I MADE SUNGCHAN PROMISE ME THOSE WOULD NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN]
[you: did you make Mr. Jung promise you though?]
[taro: does sungchan know that you’re getting blackmail material from your new bestie, HIS DAD??]
[you: what do you mean blackmail material?? personally, i think you look SO cute in those pictures in your little mathletes uniform]
[you: i didn’t even know sirens could need glasses and braces]
[you: wait does this mean you wear contacts??? i feel like it’s illegal to know this]
[taro: it is, now i have to kill you]
[you: ooooohh, wait till i tell sung]
[taro: not if i drown you first]
[you: you can’t kill me, i know where Mr. Jung keeps the mathletes photos]
[taro: damn it]
[you: and the ones from your first school dance]
[taro: DOES THIS MAN JUST HAVE A SHOEBOX LABELED “OSAKI SHOTARO BLACKMAIL MATERIAL” OR SOMETHING WHAT THE FUCK]
[you: no it’s labeled “jung sungchan blackmail material” actually but you just happen to be in a lot of the pictures too]
[taro: wait for real?]
[you: no, dumbass, he’s sungchan’s dad, of course he’s going to have a lot of old photos of his son and by extension, his son’s friends]
[taro: don’t get a guy’s hopes up like that, damn]
[taro: alright come on, let me see the bad pics you got of sungchan now]
[you: noooo, they’re not bad, they’re actually really cute 🥹🥹]
[you: attached images(+5)]
[you: like just LOOK at my little guy 🥹 he was so little and cute]
[taro: the FUCK are you talking about]
[taro: he’s clearly like 20cm taller than me and everyone else INCLUDING THE TEACHER SPONSOR]
[you: yeah, and he’s JUST a little guy, so little and cute]
[you: i wouldn’t expect you to get it, taro…………sigh]
[taro: attached image]
[taro: THIS IS YOUR MANS????]
[you: WELL WHEN YOU ZOOM IN ON ANYBODY’S FACE LIKE THAT OF COURSE IT’LL LOOK A BIT OFF]
[taro: the favoritism is so real right now]
[you: i’m so tired of your dramatic ass like what fucking “favoritism” 😭😭 of course i like sung better he’s my boyfriend]
[taro: and??]
[you: you’re not??? the fuck you mean “and??”]
[taro: and i think a good friend should be fair and impartial]
[you: i came here to name and shame you to your face, not to be fair and impartial i don’t know how you could’ve been under any other impression]
[taro: i’m so telling sungchan about this]
[you: don’t forget to leave in the part where i called him cute and you intentionally manipulated a picture of him to make him look worse]
[taro: i regret ever setting you two up]
[you: actually jeno and them did it first]
[taro: and i should’ve left you two crashed and burned and SINGLE where i found you]
[you: love you taro 🫶]
[taro: nice try demon that lives in my apartment and doesn’t pay rent 🫶🫶🫶]
[you: SUNGCHAN DOESN’T LET ME WHEN I TRY TO CHIP IN FOR HOW MUCH I’M OVER THERE I SWEAR]
[taro: i figured, which is why i don’t let him pay more than his half either]
[you: then why are you being mean to me about it 🥺]
[taro: do you feel bad enough that you’ll delete those mathlete photos off your phone now?]
[you: nice try demon that i’m never paying rent to 🫶🫶🫶]
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Pushing open the door to the next shop on this street, you were pleasantly surprised by the calm, quaint atmosphere that you were greeted by. The bright red and gold pillars outside of the toy and watch shop had suggested otherwise, but inside of it were a few display cases filled with watches and other pieces of jewelry, while the other half of the shop had shelves upon shelves of toys. Every item in the store seemed handmade, and even to your untrained eye, you could tell that several had magical properties. A girl about your age was behind one of the watch and jewelry counters towards the front of the store, which also had the register on it. She was fiddling with an open watch, and you watched as she readjusted the light of the lamp above her with just a flick of her wrist—not touching a single button or switch on the device. All the jewelry and other accessories she was wearing already made you think she might’ve been a witch, but that just locked it in for you.
Some music played throughout the store, though you couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from, as there were no visible speakers on the ceiling or elsewhere. Briefly dragging your eyes over the display cases as you strolled up towards the employee, you spotted quite a few watches, of course, as well as necklaces, rings, earrings, and small trinkets. But nothing that quite stuck out to you as what you were looking for.
The witch perked up as you came to a stop in front of her, setting her tiny tools down on the small rag alongside the watch pieces. “Hi! Welcome in. Is there something I can help you with?”
“This is a magical kind of shop, right?” You asked curiously. Apothecaries usually stuck out as such, but having a witch and a couple things that glowed didn’t guarantee anything.
“Yep! This place is ran by my coven!” She told you proudly. “We make everything in here by hand in the back, fine tune the mechanics and the magic ourselves. Are you looking for any particular kind of magic thing?”
“Yes, well, sort of…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I’m kind of gift shopping right now.”
“What’s the occasion?”
After a split-second internal debate, you figured this witch had probably dealt with weirder, and you would definitely need her insight and experience when it came to the magical properties of all of the options in front of you.
“My boyfriend is giving me his mating bite in a few days, but I don’t want to show up empty-handed, you know?” You scratched at the back of your neck. “Like, it’s not an engagement-level thing for us, but it’s still big, and I want to be able to give him something too…”
She didn’t seem thrown off in the slightest, instead seeming to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin, before her features lit up, and she slid over to the other end of the display case. You followed her down.
“Now, I’m guessing you already know about moonstone—” She explained, pulling out a small display of rings. “Helps their shifts.”
You nodded as you looked over the many rings inlaid with opalescent stones like the one on Jeno’s necklace. “Yeah. And, I mean, his aren’t that bad. Just sort of… disorienting and confusing. Though I hate how sickly he gets the day or so after.”
The witch gave you an intrigued look. “He’s… half-werewolf?”
Darting your eyes back up to her, you wondered which part of what you just said had given it away. The less intense shift? The ‘sickly’ bit?
“And half-human?” She took your silence as an apparent cue to finish her guess.
You slowly nodded.
Immediately, the rings were whisked away from under your nose. She was practically alight with excitement as she flitted over to a completely different display case, grabbing just one singular piece from there and bringing it back over to you. It was another ring, a thick silver band of one width, with no obvious gem settings or other such features.
“So, you wouldn’t really be worried about the shift itself, then. Or, at least not the pain part, which is really what the moonstone helps werewolves with. Easing the transition into and during the shift.” The employee rambled enthusiastically. “The symptoms that he really has a problem with are about getting back into balance after. Since he’s half-human, his body has to work a lot harder to return to homeostasis after an ordeal like a werewolf shift.”
“He’s said something about that before. Homeostasis.”
“Then what you really want is something like this—” She offered the ring out for you to take, depositing it onto your palm. You curiously looked it over closer. “Instead of moonstone, like most things designed for werewolves, this has concentrated moonflower essence in the chamber that makes up most of the band.”
You tilted the ring and could in fact see a small amount of mostly clear, but shimmery iridescent cobalt blue liquid shift around in the light. The container that held the liquid must have been incredibly thin to fit along the ring whilst adding negligible bulk.
Moonflower was of course familiar to you from Magical Botany Club. While the plant itself wasn’t magical, it had a slew of magical applications, and could be distilled down to a magical essence. Much like moonstone, which also wasn’t in and of itself magical, it had an effect on magical beings that were also tied to the moon, most notably, werewolves. Moonflower paste was a common ingredient in traditional werewolf medicine, and even in modern pharmaceuticals, many medications with different formulations for werewolves—or formulated to treat diseases that only werewolves got—often had ingredients derived from the moonflower. In addition to healing properties, the smell tended to have a calming effect on them as well, both in and out of their shifts (unlike moonstone, which exclusively aided their shifts).
You had a moonflower plant in your own apartment, which had been useless for any werewolf purposes as of late with Sungchan never coming over, but hopefully it wouldn’t be that way for long. It had been slightly altered so that it would be suited to growing indoors; moonflower was typically a vine, which was difficult to keep in a one-bedroom apartment with limited balcony space, so after a little bit of help from Jaemin, your moonflower grew as a cute little potted bush instead.
But there was still one more feature on the ring that hadn’t been explained to you. A single, silver, almost-circle on one side of the outside of the ring, entirely flush with the top of the container that held the moonflower essence. The outline of the rest of the circle was there, but it wasn’t quite filled in all the way, a small crescent of darkness keeping the silver from being whole.
“And this?” You gestured to the symbol.
“Tracks the lunar cycle. Waxing gibbous, we’re just a couple days away from the full moon. He probably instinctually knows what phase of the moon it is, but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra reminder.”
Turning the ring over in your hand again, you found yourself nodding and smiling. “Yeah. This is perfect.”
“And you said it’s happening in a few days? So after the full moon, right?”
“Oh, uhm, yes.”
“We could totally make another by then, if you wanted a matching set,” she offered.
“Really? So quick?”
“A lot of the initial process is the R&D,” the witch explained with a laugh. “But we already know how to make this one, it’ll be easy. Promise.”
You thought this over for a moment. After telling so many people that it wasn’t marriage or engagement, getting matching rings… But the whole point of exchanging mating bites in the first place was to match. Well, almost, since no two werewolves would have the same bite. To coordinate. To give each other your own version of the same thing. Your own version of the same thing.
“Do you think you could make it without the chamber with the moonflower essence, actually?” You asked. “Like, still with the lunar tracker. Just the main band and the little part that tracks the lunar cycle.”
She lit up. “Absolutely! Should be even quicker, actually. Probably have that done by the end of business tomorrow, morning after tomorrow at the latest.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah! Say the word and I’ll start as soon as you leave.”
“Yes, please!”
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Sungchan hadn’t let go of you once since you arrived at his apartment the evening that you were to be receiving his bite. Either with an arm around your waist, pressed up against your back, or holding your hand. Shotaro had already vacated the premises by the time you’d gotten there, a half-excuse of him staying at Jisung and Chenle’s place tonight being given by the werewolf when you asked.
The two of you ate dinner first. He wanted to feed you, making sure you had eaten and were hydrated before. You were finally taking your class on werewolves this looming fall semester, and had already bought and read ahead in the textbook for it. Specifically, you’d lost count of the amount of times that you’d read and re-read the sections on mating bites, mating bite rituals, and anything else that you could imagine would be relevant to your current predicament.
For mated werewolf couples in packs who were going through the actual ritual, the first step was to usually share a meal consisting of raw meat—fresh kill. Neither you nor Sungchan could or would actually eat that, so you just had a hearty serving of your favorite takeout orders.
Sungchan didn’t even let you sit in your own chair, having insistently pulled you into his lap right at their kitchen table, lifting bite after bite of food to your mouth, always sure to follow it up with your slowly draining glass of water. You were mindful of him, too, making sure he didn’t ignore his half-werewolf appetite in his concern over you.
“‘M full, Sung…” You murmured, gently covering his hand with yours to maneuver the food towards his mouth instead.
He frowned thoughtfully, not parting his lips even as you bumped the spoon against them, looking like a very serious toddler who wasn’t enjoying the game of airplane being played at the moment. “You sure?”
“Yeah, promise.” You nodded with a smile. “It was delicious, and I’m all done. You took good care of me, Sung. Can you let me finish taking care of you, now?”
Your boyfriend’s features softened at that, and he parted his mouth, letting you feed him the spoonful. He happily chewed and swallowed, looking especially blissed out as you gently scratched his scalp with your free hand. In between continuing to feed Sungchan, you finished off your water, and made sure he drank his as well.
Finally, he too declared that he was done eating. Curled up in your boyfriend’s embrace, with a full belly and a full heart, you could’ve almost thought that this was any normal night; nearly forgotten what was going to come next. Nearly.
Sungchan took you to his room next, which wasn’t really necessary, since you had the whole apartment to yourselves. He held you to him with an arm around your waist as he shut the door behind you two. You raised an eyebrow when you heard the door lock.
He buried his face in your neck, wrapping both arms around you now as he half-growled, “Smells like Shotaro out there…”
“Locking the door to keep the smells out…” You hummed in amusement, leaning your head on his shoulder and resting your weight back against him. You decided not to outright point out the flaw in logic there, nor the fact that the two of you could’ve also done this at your place, where there was no smells of Shotaro or anybody else, just you. But of course, you figured it needed to be here because it smelled like Sungchan. It had been so long since Sungchan had been to your home that you were doubtful even a full werewolf would be able to catch a trace of him.
He lifted his head and breathed in like he was about to say something, but you just pulled his arms tighter around you and reassured him, “It’s perfect, Sung. Our own little space. Just you and me.”
Dropping his cheek back down to your shoulder, Sungchan let out a long but shaky breath. Putting your hands over his, your slotted your fingers with your boyfriend’s.
“Sung? Baby? Everything okay?” You asked.
“I just can’t believe we’re doing this…”
“Hey, if you’re not ready for this, we can stop. If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay.”
“No, I want to,��� he said, a hard edge to his voice. He coughed, his voice softening again but sounding a little strained as he continued, “Really. I mean… I can’t believe I’m doing this with you. I seriously thought I’d royally fucked things up forever. Multiple times.”
“Well, you didn’t,” you told him strongly. “Now, can I go first?”
“You… go first?” He repeated, confusion coloring his voice so clearly. Apparently, he’d forgotten that you’d be doing more than just getting bitten tonight.
“Aw, I would love to, thanks, Sung,” you tittered jokingly, patting his cheek. “Close your eyes, please?”
He chuckled, and a beat later, announced, “Okay, they’re closed.”
You craned your neck just the slightest to be able to peer at him out of the corner of your vision, seeing that he was in fact squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Reaching into your pocket, you retrieved the small pouch that you’d picked up from the coven’s shop this morning. You shook out the two rings inside into your palm, and put yours on your left middle finger first, a simple silver band with the lunar indicator welded into it. It looked almost like a full moon, but you could see just the faintest strip of black showing that it was actually beginning to wane. Next, you gently put the other on Sungchan’s right ring finger, his with a faint shimmer of the moonflower essence.
Holding the side of his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek, you declared, “Done. You can open your eyes.”
He did so, immediately holding up his hand to inspect what you’d done to it. As he looked over the new jewelry, you explained, “It has moonflower essence, all around the band. And the moon design on it will actually change with the phases of the real moon.”
“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful,” he picked up your left hand, bringing it up towards his face that was still hooked over your shoulder—presumably to kiss the back of it—but stopped short as he seemed to have noticed your new accessory as well. His fingers turned your silver band until he could get a good look at the lunar tracker that matched his.
“I got one too,” you added, skin turning warmer and starting to prickle the longer he went without saying anything. “It’s a lot prettier than those phone apps that track the lunar cycle, right?”
Then Sungchan was turning you around by the hips. He grabbed your face with two hands to kiss you, and you got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. You could feel the cool band of his new ring pressing against your cheek, warming up with every passing second from yours and Sungchan’s bodies.
Breaking the kiss, he reached behind his neck for your left hand with his right, bringing them both down to rest over his chest. He pressed your palm against him firmly, and you could feel his heart beating under your touch.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said quietly, earnestly, his voice cracking over your name. “So much… that it doesn’t feel real sometimes.”
“What do you mean, Sung?”
“Like, one person shouldn’t be able to have this much love in their body. Or at least, I shouldn’t.”
“What?” You let out a breathy chuckle. “That’s what so beautiful about love, there can only be more of it, it’s infinite. Of course you’re capable of so much love. How could you think anything else?”
“I used to never understand how my mom could choose to fall in love with a human. To doom her family—me—to our life. No safety or identity that comes with a pack. Even after I realized I had fallen for you, I-I was afraid I was so… messed up from thinking like that my whole life that I wasn’t going to be able to love you like you deserved. Like something might’ve been broken in me.”
“Sung…” You touched under his eye with your free hand, where a tear had fallen. “You’re not broken. You’ve never done anything but love me with your whole heart, I know that. You’ve been so good to me, always.”
“I know,” he nodded zealously, accompanied by a sniffle. “I know now, that I’m not broken. That I can have all this overflowing love in me, and it’s so awesome, but also kind of terrifying?”
You chuckled lightly at that. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I love you so much I get a little scared too, because I’ve never loved someone like I love you. And we haven’t even been properly dating for that long, so if I already love you this much, then how much more am I going to love you in six months? A year? Two? Five? Ten?”
He snapped his head up from where he’d been gazing down at your hands, eyes locking on yours. You smiled back at him weakly. The urge to stuff your words back in your mouth was there, but you knew you couldn’t. It was the truth, that you could picture yourself with Sungchan that far ahead in your life. For the rest of it, if you were going to be that honest, but you bit your tongue before you got there.
The two of you had unintentionally moved onto the next part of the werewolf mating ritual: moonlit confessionals. The light of the nearly full moon shone down on the two of you in front of one of his bedroom windows. Your textbook hadn’t been terribly explicit on the exact content of the words exchanged at this point, just that it was an opportunity for the couple to truly bare their souls to each other, make sure there was nothing hidden that would make the other not want to go through with the rest of the ritual.
“After my last relationship… ended like it did, I thought I might be a little broken, too,” you pushed on with your confession. “I was afraid that in my next relationship, I’d just see cheating everywhere. I was honestly a little relieved when our first date blew up, because I thought that if I dated someone again, I’d treat them like a criminal. But never once has it ever crossed my mind with you, never once have I ever doubted you, have I ever felt anything less than absolutely loved and adored.”
“I do, absolutely love and adore you,” he replied. “And I’m so glad you brought up the future, because I think about it, too. Like, all the time. When I imagine my life after college, or what my life is going to be like in five or ten years… I don’t know much, but I always imagine that you’re there. Like, I don’t know what I want to be, other than happy, with you.”
You couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing him by the neck to yank his mouth down to yours. Pulling him with you towards the bed, you stopped when you felt your legs back up against it.
“Do it, Sung. Bite me,” you murmured against his lips.
He let out a low, throaty groan at your words, tipping his head back as he took a couple deep breaths. You pressed a few more open-mouth kisses to his Adam’s apple and collarbones. Sungchan made another sound that was between a sigh and a grunt.
“We should be sitting down for this,” he stated, though he made no move to follow through on his words.
You removed your lips from his skin to happily plop down into the center of his mattress. The front of you was a bit cold since you were no longer pressed up against him, though you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be for very long.
Sungchan sat down facing you, scooping you up into his arms. You easily settled into his lap, your legs finding familiar places on either side of his hips. Fondly brushing some hair off his forehead, you would’ve been rather content to just stare down at your Sung bathed in moonlight for the next several minutes, so handsome and all yours. But you had something you needed to do tonight.
Grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing—Sungchan’s, of course—you shucked it over your head and off onto the floor. That left you just in a tank top with nearly negligible straps. You could see your boyfriend’s eyes zero in on the bare expanse of skin from your shoulder to your neck that you’d just exposed, where his bite was supposed to go.
“I had my turn,” you said, slipping the thin strap off of the shoulder he was staring at, and tilting your head to open up as much space as possible, make it as clear of an invitation as possible. “Now it’s yours. Go on, baby. I trust you.”
Sungchan didn’t say anything more, but he did grab both of your hands by the wrist—his grip surprisingly gentle—to wrap your arms around his waist. You splayed your hands out over his lower back under his shirt, indulging yourself in his warmth, and smoothing a thumb over his skin. He then wrapped his around you to hold you even closer, if that was possible, and you watched him open his mouth, his white teeth catching the pale moonlight, glinting, and looking much sharper than normal— reminding you of how they looked during his shifts.
Then those teeth were biting you, sinking into your muscle.
Renjun had described what being bitten by a vampire was like to you, once. He had a bucket list for that sort of thing—magical encounters. He said it was a small pinch, barely more than the pressure of a needle, then it was all pleasure from thereafter. Vampire venom, of course, was meant to do that so that those they were biting felt so good so they wouldn’t resist while the vampire drank as much as they pleased from them.
Werewolves were predators in an entirely different sense, with the teeth to match. Theirs were meant to grab prey, hold them in their jaws no matter how much they struggled, and rip flesh from bone. As much damage as possible in one go, so that if said prey happened to escape, they wouldn’t be able to get very far with their injuries.
It was visceral pain, the moment Sungchan bit you. You couldn’t hear the noise that you made—only aware that you made one as you felt the gurgle of something in the back of your throat—through the white noise that exploded behind your eyes the instant his teeth hit bone. You were glad he’d directed you to put your arms around him just moments earlier, as your nails were now firmly embedded in the skin of his lower back—you were sure those would’ve been drawing your own blood in your palms if they hadn’t been there.
A memory suddenly flashed in your mind. You were seven, in your backyard with your dad, watching two squirrels chase each other across the grass. Then your neighbor’s dog came out of nowhere—maybe slipped his collar—and got one in his mouth. Your dad couldn’t get his hand over your eyes quick enough. You didn’t want to pet Mr. Lee’s dog when you saw him a couple days later, despite how well he sat, the adorable way his tongue lolled out from between his razor-sharp canines, and how fast his tail wagged.
The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?
You trusted him, of course, or you wouldn’t have asked him to do this. Not let him; but suggested, encouraged, requested, told him to. Your fingernails dug into his back even harder at the idea, as much to anchor yourself and provide an outlet as to hold him to you as well. Surely you had to be breaking skin at this point.
You had the urge to bite down on something too. It was a need that came from deep in your jaw. Like when people were given something to bite on for painful procedures in old medical dramas. Or maybe reciprocity.
This go around, you kept your teeth to yourself, though, sinking them into your bottom lip. That pain didn’t even register past the supernova radiating out from your shoulder.
Sungchan finally pulled his teeth out from your flesh, and the rest of your senses snapped back into focus. Your eyes fluttered open—when did you close them?—back to Sungchan’s bedroom, your fingers slowly unfurled from where they’d dug into his back, and you could hear him talking to you as he gently inspected the bite wound.
You brought your hands back around in front of you. Your eyes widened minutely as you realized that there was bright red under a couple of your fingernails. And it wasn’t yours. The beds of your nails were perfectly intact, meaning that you really had broken his skin.
“Oh God, Y/N, the blood. I’m so sorry.” Sungchan muttered under his breath, reaching for something on his nightstand.
For half a second, you thought he meant his, and you were about to apologize as you were still staring down at your hands mostly in awe. But then you actually saw his face for the first time as he turned back around, clutching a damp hand towel.
There was a red tint to his lips, and you realized that wasyour blood. Electricity jolted up your spine before the thought had even fully formed.
…he won’t even draw blood. So much for that, Mr. Jung.
His tongue darted out to instinctively investigate the wetness on his mouth, and a sudden thrill shuddered through you as you watched. You decided not to ask how it tasted to him, despite the question certainly popping into your mind.
You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone instead, so far back it was nearly in his hairline. “I’m okay, Sung. I’m okay.”
Without a word, he started gently cleaning up the bite wound, and you had half a mind to ask for another towel for his back, though you knew that would be futile until he got you situated. So, you sat patiently, keeping your head craned to the side to give him plenty of room, and watched his intent face as he worked.
“Sung?”
He sighed, a sound that let you know he was already beginning his mental descent through the seven circles of werewolf hell. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’m so—”
“Can I bite you next time?” You asked simply.
The towel stilled over your bite.
“You… next time… bite… me?” His eyes glassed over as his mouth stumbled to even form around the individual words.
“I know I won’t leave a mark like you but… so I can have something to do?” You used the hand of your unbitten shoulder to trace a line from his ear down his jugular, under his collar, to his shoulder, then back to his collarbone. You took your hand back as you went to joke, “Unless you’re expecting extravagant and meaningful gifts every time?”
“No, no. I mean yes! I mean—” Sungchan took a second to shake his head and blink, clearing his mind. “I don’t expect gifts every time. And yes, you can bite me next time. I didn’t think you would be up for a next time after I… well, after all this.”
He gestured vaguely to the wound that he’d gone back to tending to. A quick glance at it out of the corner of your eye showed you that it had already stopped bleeding and was starting to mend itself. At least Mr. Jung was right about that part.
Even through the acute worry over the unexpected severity of the bite, you could tell that Sungchan was already more clear-headed and overall relaxed, the constant nervous tension in his body gone, replaced just by a determined set of his shoulders, and momentary furrow of his brow as he cleaned up the bite. Brushing his hair off his forehead, you trailed your hand down to cup his cheek fondly. “Sungchan, this is the most yourself I’ve seen you in a long time. Yes, I’m going to keep your bite.”
Just the bright, tender smile on Sungchan’s face—the recognition of being loved and reflecting it back to you—would’ve been more than enough for you to do this again, whether or not it helped the scent anxiety. You could always work on another solution for that. But this you wouldn’t take away for the world.
He set the towel aside again, and you grabbed his hands now that they were free, messing with the brand-new ring adorning one of his fingers.
“Besides, even if I can’t leave a mark like yours next time, I can still mark you up,” you mused quietly, almost as if it were to yourself, except for the fact that you had a werewolf practically chest-to-chest with you. And you knew very well that you did. “They just won’t last as long.”
“Why wait until next time?” He suggested, and you heard the long inhale he took after. You wondered if you smelled any different to him already, or if he just needed to breathe.
You looked up from your hands to him with a smirk. “I like the way you think.”
Sungchan captured your lips in a kiss that tasted of hunger, and love, and metal— your blood was still around his mouth. And you smiled into it before doing as promised and dropping your mouth to the column of his throat, well above his collar, and letting your teeth graze his skin. You could feel his gasp rush in under your lips as his hands pulled your hips firmly down against his.
You decided that Jeno could be a ‘puppy’ all he wanted. You had a wolf, and you were more than happy with that.
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“I think I made it out more marked up than you, you know,” Sungchan called out to you from the bathroom the next morning.
“Really?” You replied just as loudly, amusement in your tone as you stretched leisurely in his sheets.
“Shotaro’s going to be concerned for my wellbeing at this rate.”
Sitting up and scooting towards the corner of his bed closest to the mirror, you checked out your own reflection as you imagined he was currently doing, your fingers trailing over the dark bite mark now set into your skin. There was no scab or blood, just the faintest ring of raised skin and distinct outline of teeth. Rolling out your shoulder, you winced as a dull pain radiated out from the bite. Dropping the arm back down, you continued staring at the mark, a certain giddiness fluttering around in your stomach. You’d have this for… who knows how long. The rest of your life, maybe.
Clearing your throat and your mind, you responded to Sungchan with a disbelieving snort, “No he’s not.”
“No, he’s not,” he agreed with a sigh as he walked back into his bedroom just in a pair of sweatpants. Which let you get a great view of the countless blue and purple hickies, love bites, long red scratches, and faded remains of crescent-shaped nail marks that littered his neck, chest, shoulders, and back. You bit down on your bottom lip, a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment welling up in your chest. Sungchan fixed you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hands on his hips. “But my parents will be when we go over for dinner next week.”
“We’re going over for dinner next week?!” You yelped, covering your mouth in horror, panic, and mortification. A lot of the worst of those bruises were well above the collar of all of his shirts. “Why did you let me—”
“I’m kidding,” he cut you off with a chuckle, lumbering over towards the bed to flop down beside you on the mattress.
You smacked his arm as you hissed, “I’m going to kill you, Jung Sungchan! Don’t do that to me!”
“Ouch, full name.” He pouted.
“God, I was about to preemptively die of embarrassment!”
“So it’ll be fine for them to see that,” he pointed to your shoulder, “but not these?” He gestured from his own neck down.
“Different situational and cultural contexts!”
He nodded slowly, “Oh, right, of course...”
“You’re half-human, Sungchan, don’t pull that ‘I’m-just-a-simple-werewolf’ act on me!”
“I upset you. I’m sorry,” he apologized, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.
“You better be, Sungchan.”
“I am, baby, I am.” He gave your hand a half dozen more fervent, rapid-fire smooches. “Now are you done calling me that?”
“What? Your name?” You scoffed.
“You know what I mean, baby...”
“So we don’t have dinner with your parents next week?”
“Nope. Two weeks.”
You shook your head and sighed. “And so you live to see another day, Sung.”
“I’m half-werewolf, I would’ve been all healed up by next week, you know,” he pointed out, sitting up behind you and pressing a couple lingering kisses to your shoulder with your new mating bite.
“I know, I know.”
He continued trailing sweet kisses up your neck and jaw. “Which means I’ll also be all healed in two weeks if you were to give me some more…”
“I don’t know, you just played a very mean trick on me, Sung,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were genuinely deliberating not giving in and absolutely devouring this man right now.
“I know,” he murmured between kisses, gently holding your chin with one hand to turn your head back towards him. “I’m the worst.”
“You are,” you breathed out against his lips.
“So now that we agree on that…”
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“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You jabbed the crosswalk button repeatedly.
“It’s going to be fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’ve already met your parents before and it was fine.”
“Yeah, once, for like two minutes, as my friend.” You pointed out, banging the button with the side of your fist when it still hadn’t changed.
You were of course talking about a random Sunday afternoon way back in the spring semester, before you and Sungchan had started dating. He had come over that day to help you put together your new coffee table that you’d finally gotten around to buying. Except, upon starting the assembling, the two of you had realized that neither of you had one of the tools required for it. Thankfully, your dad did, and offered to bring it by since he and your mom were about to head out to run errands anyway. Cue some very brief, very awkward introductions between your parents and Sungchan when they’d brought the promised tool. You weren’t counting, but you would’ve bet money that you had called him your friend at least ten times during that less-than-five-minute conversation, with so much stress and nervous emphasis on the word that you wouldn’t have been surprised if your parents had left your apartment that day already thinking that the two of you were dating.
But now you were actually supposed to be introducing him to them as your boyfriend, and you felt like you were going to throw up and pass out and die before you even got there.
Sungchan wordlessly let go of your hand to smoothly step between you and the crosswalk button, picking up your other hand to hold.
“Come on, you said it yourself that they were impressed with me after that two-minute conversation,” he reminded you. “Imagine how great of an impression I’ll leave after two hours.”
“All I said was that my dad told me later that he was surprised that you were a werewolf because you were so calm,” you corrected him. “He’s used to all my friends from high school who had the bouncing-off-the-fucking-walls energy like Jeno.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Which, by the way, I’ve already told them that you’re not in a pack or anything like that, but pretty much all they know about werewolves is from my classmates and friends from when I was in high school. So… apologies in advance for any assumptions or comparisons they make.”
“Right, the two packs you went to school with.”
“Yeah, them. I told them you’re not in a pack, and don’t have any of that going on. It actually made my mom relax a lot more. I think all that stuff kind of scares her.”
“What? Afraid that I’d whisk you away with my big werewolf muscles to my werewolf pack and she’d never hear from her poor little human daughter ever again?”
You burst out into an incredulous laugh. “You have got to stop talking about yourself like that or I’m seriously going to hurt your feelings one of these days, baby.”
“By saying what? It’s not like I’m lying?”
“Your ego is as stupid big as your stupid big werewolf muscles.”
“Ha!” He cheered out victoriously. “So you admit it.”
“Wasn’t falling in love supposed to rot your brain? Make you more docile or whatever? I think it’s just made you even worse…” You tutted, shaking your head.
“How could I not be on an ego trip? I mean, have you seen my girlfriend?” He retorted. “She’s crazy beautiful, and smart, and funny, and so sweet. I’d be jealous of me if I wasn’t me.”
You rolled your eyes, but squeezed his hand tighter. “Alright, you sap. Maybe the ego trip is warranted. But seriously, don’t talk about yourself like that in front of my parents or I’ll die of secondhand embarrassment. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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So far lunch was going okay. Your mom had invited the two of you over for a late Sunday lunch, which always meant sandwiches and lemonade in your house. And it was going okay, aside from the initial reaction you’d gotten when they’d opened the front door. You could still hear your mother’s shocked gasp and ‘Oh my God…’ muttered under her breath as her eyes were glued onto your neck. More specifically, you knew she was staring at your new mating bite. Or, the half of it that she could see— you weren’t exactly hiding it, so you’d picked your t-shirt today only for comfort in the lingering end-of-August-cusp-of-September heat. It was just over three weeks since Sungchan had given you his bite, a couple days shy of the upcoming full moon, and yeah maybe you should visit your parents more often. But in your defense, you’d been a bit busy between getting the bite in the first place, and the new semester starting.
Your father didn’t have much better of a reaction than your mother, eyes going wide behind his thick, frameless lenses before his jaw clenched. There was still a certain tension in his muscles that jumped every time he saw Sungchan touch you, whether it was a brush of arms, holding your hand, or an innocent squeeze of your knee as he stood up to head to the bathroom that he’d just been gestured towards.
Picking your glass of lemonade back up after Sungchan had left the room, you took only a sip before your mom was reaching across the table to gently take your hand in hers.
“Hey, sweetie…” She said softly but with a certain worried tenseness in her tone that made your stomach drop.
You tried to mimic the front she was putting up, smiling back at her brightly and innocently, “Hey, Mom?”
“Listen... We are so happy for you, and we love Sungchan, we really do.”
“Okay, then why does it feel like this is about to go somewhere that I’m not going to like?”
“Don’t you think that the two of you might just be moving a little fast?”
Entirely dropping all sunny pretenses, you narrowed your eyes at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“The-the bite,” she explained with a wince, pointing to her own shoulder.
“That’s sort of like marriage for them, right?” Your dad cut in gruffly.
Despite it being phrased like a question, his tone made it sound much more like an accusation, like he already knew he was right and was just letting you know that he knew the truth—or at least what he thought the truth was. It reminded you of when you’d get in trouble as a kid and he’d ask you if you knew how the vase in the living room got broken despite very much already having a good idea himself. Giving you the opportunity to fess up before he punished you even more severely for the initial bad deed and then lying about it on top of that. But you hadn’t done anything wrong this time.
“Sort of, not really, it depends. In some packs, I guess. But Sung’s not in a pack, you know that,” you reminded them firmly, straightening up in your seat.
Your mom jumped back in, “Right, but still, don’t you think he kind of rushed you into—”
“It was my idea,” you cut her off before she could even finish articulating that thought. You knew you’d get all the way pissed off if she did. It was already taking a lot to dampen your anger now and keep this at a civil conversation. It’s just because they didn’t understand. You had to keep telling yourself that, and do your best to explain, calmly, and make them understand. Not everybody had three years of Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies under their belt like you. Your mom had been a stay-at-home mom all your life, and your dad was just a few years away from retirement, having worked in a human-dominated field for his whole career. An architect.
Those same sharp eyes that would pore over building designs late at night in his home office while you sat in his lap and did your own colorful sketches in crayon—and eventually fell asleep in his arms—were now regarding you with a clear distrust. “Darling, really, it—”
“Look, when we first started dating, Sung was having a really hard time with scent anxiety,” you once again spoke over him authoritatively. “All the usual scenting stuff, it wasn’t working. He was really stressed, and anxious, and just… worried sick all the time about me like spontaneously combusting or something if we were apart for even a second. Me taking his bite was the best solution. And now, the beginning of the semester has gone off without a hitch. Classes, my Magical Botany Club, his astronomy club, his senior thesis meetings, my research mentorship project... I don’t know if we would’ve been able to do all of this apart, clear-headed like… literally a month ago. And yes, I brought it up to him. I’m fine, I promise. This is what I want, he’s what I want.”
The two of them exchanged perturbed, skeptical glances, before your mom nodded, and your father let out a resigned sigh.
“Alright, sweetheart. Like we said, we like Sungchan. We just don’t want you two doing anything that you might regret. Either of you.”
“I know, Dad. But we’ve got this. Seriously, it’s… really good with him,” you promised him, a giddy smile coming to your features with your last words.
“We’re happy to hear that, sweetie,” your mom patted your hand.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I don’t want to know anything else about how it happens, but— Does it hurt? Like, right now, does it hurt you?”
“Oh, no, Mom, it’s not painful to the touch or sore or anything,” you reassured her, carefully skirting around the how and instead focusing on the now, pressing on the bite mark to demonstrate that it wasn’t tender like a bruise.
“Good, good, I’m glad.”
The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed down the hall to you, and you turned around to smile at Sungchan over your shoulder as he started back towards you all.
“Well, I think it’s time for the tart I’ve got in the fridge, huh?” Your mom beamed at everyone, standing up from the kitchen table.
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“That could’ve gone worse,” you declared as soon as your parents’ front door shut behind the two of you, leaving you and Sungchan on the sidewalk. There wasn’t much in the way of leftovers aside from the berry tart, which your mom sent you off with so that your father wouldn’t eat it all.
“You think so?” Sungchan asked warily. “Because I uh… I did hear what you all were talking about when I was in the bathroom.”
“Yeah, I thought you might’ve.” You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry about all that, Sung. I think they get it now. And really, it was my fault for not at least giving them a heads-up about the bite, it didn’t even cross my mind. We just caught them off-guard.”
Sungchan suddenly stopped the two of you on the empty sidewalk. He cupped your cheek in his hand, running a thumb over your cheekbone, then down your jaw, the side of your neck, until he stopped right over where you knew the mating bite was. His thumb once again stroked over your skin, tracing the shape of the bite and pushing aside your collar when needed.
“Hearing you say that this is what you want, I’m what you want… made me really happy,” he declared simply, eyes still locked on the mark.
“It’s true,” you replied.
A bright, giddy smile spread across his face. “I know. And I knew it as soon as I heard you say it, too.”
You grinned back up at him. “That makes me really happy to hear, Sung. I always want you to know how much I love you.”
He leaned in nearer, and you closed your eyes anticipating a kiss, but instead he just dropped a fond peck to your nose before standing up straight. “I think it’s starting to finally uh, get through my thick skull.”
“Finally,” you echoed with a giggle. “Alright, your place?”
“I actually wanted to ask… Can we go to your place tonight?”
“Finally going to give poor Taro some peace?”
“That, yeah. But I wasn’t even thinking about him to be honest. I just… I want to.”
“Okay, Sung. Come on.” You tugged him down the street in the direction of your apartment.
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Sungchan had been to your place on several occasions as your friend and your boyfriend, and yet you were drawing a blank for exactly the last time he had been there. Maybe your third date? Or, technically your fourth date, but you and Sungchan had unanimously agreed to not count that first awkward blind date that the guys set you up on as your official first date. Regardless, it’d been… a while since he’d been over. You kicked your shoes off by the door and didn’t bother to turn the lights on as you deposited the leftover tart in the fridge before beginning your nightly plant-tending. There were a few that needed to be misted still, then you could fully relax. You did the majority of your plant care-taking duties during the actual day, there was just the odd handful that needed a couple good spritzes.
Sungchan watched you patiently as you did so just in the moonlight coming in through the sheers you had over a window. Then, once the spray bottle was put back down, you led the way into your bedroom with maybe a little bit of a skip in your step. While you weren’t a werewolf, you were understanding how nice it felt to have your person in a space that you felt safe and warm and good in again. Like everything was going to be okay forever, maybe.
“You want to wear one of my hoodies?” You joked, rifling through your drawers for some pajamas for yourself.
“You have anything that’d fit?” Sungchan perked up from where he was laying on your bed to ask. He’d already located his few pieces of clothing still stored away here, meanwhile you were struggling as it turns out you very much needed to do a laundry day.
“Try that.” You tossed one at him before turning back around to the dresser. After a few moments, you hadn’t heard anything from behind you, though. “Sung? Love? Everything okay back there?” You looked over your shoulder to find a very cozy-looking werewolf in your extra, extra large hoodie—which just fit him regularly. But it was the eyes-closed, soft, happy smile on his face as he had the hood up around his head, his hair strewn about messily, and he held the ends of the sleeves up to his nose that made you stop in your tracks to just take him in.
His eyes snapped open, and he dropped his hands almost sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah, all good. It fits. Thanks, baby.”
“Of course.” You nodded, feeling a fond smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
You quickly got into your own pajamas for the night and climbed into bed as well. As you reached over to turn off your lamp, Sungchan stopped your hand.
“Are you going to sleep right now?” He asked.
“Well, no,” you said, an eyebrow raised as you watched his eyes flick between your hand and your neck.
“Can we leave the lights on for just a little longer? You can turn them off as soon as you need to sleep. I just… So I can see it?” He let go of your hand and instead graced a finger over your bite mark.
You dropped your hand, nodding. “Sure, Sung.”
He smiled brightly at you. “Thank you.”
With the added light, you decided to do some reading, and Sungchan kept busy alternating between his phone, and folding and unfolding the same origami heart on your bedside table next to him. But you could feel him look over at you every so often, and you knew he was getting used to the still-new image of you with his mating bite. As you came to the close of a chapter, you tucked your bookmark—the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at the boba shop—back in and set the book aside.
“Sung?”
“Mm?”
Now that you’d gotten his attention, you wordlessly opened your arms, and he immediately launched himself into them. You let out a punched-out giggle as you suddenly had an arm- and lapful of werewolf. He settled in with his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his lips right against your bite again, his arms wrapped around your waist, and one of his legs slung over you, caging you in. You rested your cheek on the crown of his head, threading the fingers of one hand in his hair as you rubbed your other hand up and down his back. The metal of your lunar ring glinted from among his soft brown locks. Waning crescent.
“Can I turn the light off now, love? I don’t think you can see it from this angle, right?” You requested humorously.
“Hm?” Sungchan made a low, slow, questioning noise in the back of his throat, and you knew he hadn’t even processed your ask.
“Light. Off?”
“Mm, yeah, mkay.”
You could feel him nod against you.
Reaching over towards your lamp was a bit difficult, but you were finally able to stretch your fingers enough to turn it off, plunging your room into darkness. Shifting to relax a bit lower into your pillows, you returned your hand to your boyfriend’s back.
“You’re cuddly tonight,” you commented. Cuddly, not clingy like before the bite. You didn’t feel guilty for reading earlier, he’d been content to do his own thing in the meantime, and you’d been the one to initiate the cuddling now. He’d just been very enthusiastic.
“Don’t you know, Miss MCS Major?”
“How long have we known each other, and you don’t know my major?”
“‘Miss Interdisciplinary Major with a concentration in Magical Creatures Studies’ is a bit long, don’t you think?”
“It’s correct.”
“Miss MCS Student?”
“That’s… acceptable.”
“Anyway, don’t you know about werewolf mating bites, Miss MCS Student?”
“Only whatever was covered in my Intro course, the sociocultural importance of them in packs. We haven’t covered that in my class on werewolves yet. And unfortunately, Dr. Kwon’s Interspecies Marriage class didn’t fit in my schedule last year.”
“Scent swapping. After a werewolf couple exchanges bites, they swap scents until they eventually just have one new one.”
“Ah, so it’s my turn to scent you.”
“Something like that.” Sungchan shrugged. “I know that’s the scientific explanation, like, the magianthropological one or whatever. But really… I just know that being here right now feels right. Like I was never meant to do anything else. Like I could go to class, or go hang out with friends, or something. But after, this is where I’m supposed to be. With you.”
“Home.” You replied simply. “You feel like home.”
“Yeah. You’re my home.”
Unable to come up with anything to say near intelligible, you pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before nuzzling your cheek back into his hair. His arms tightened around you minutely, holding you just that much closer to him.
“And you can’t just start calling me ‘love’ and expect me to just do nothing,” he added teasingly.
“Sung.”
“Yeah?”
The darkness made it so that you couldn’t see Sungchan as the two of you laid together, but every place that you touched felt much more alive, so much more real, connected. “I love you.”
He grabbed one of your hands, just to hold it. You let him.
“I love you, too.” His words didn’t hang in the air, they laid over you like a warm blanket, wound and weaved through your mind like your favorite song, and wrapped around you like a familiar hug. You stayed silent as you basked in them, letting out a soft, content hum as you cradled his head closer to your chest.
“I think I really understand her now,” Sungchan spoke up after some time.
You were used to his non-sequiturs by now. “Who?”
“My mom… Who you love isn’t always a choice, but where you go from there is. The choices you make with that love is up to you.” His hand tightened around yours.
“I can’t wait to be there to make more choices with you, Sung,” you murmured, running a thumb over the back of his knuckles.
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Entering Half Moon Bakery with a skip in your step, Sungchan stopped you just past the front door. The two of you had been out and about running various errands all day, and had finally popped into your friends’ workplace for a little breather.
“I’ll be right back.” Sungchan pecked your forehead.
“I’ll go order.” You nodded, watching him disappear around the corner that led to the restrooms.
As you walked up to the counter, you offered the familiar wolf behind the counter a big smile. “Hey Jeno!”
“Hey, Y/N!” He grinned back. “So what can I get—”
He was cut off by a clanging from the kitchens behind him that made you jump out of your skin. The werewolf whipped around, concern etched on his features. He looked to you apologetically, “Sorry, I need to—”
“Go check on her,” you agreed, not liking the distinct lack of cursing that had accompanied the raucous noise. “I wanted to pick something new today anyway, so I’ll need some time.”
“Thanks, be right back!” And with that, he darted into the back.
You did in fact meander over to the display case of pastries, bending at the waist to peer at your options. Humming along to the song playing over the speakers, when you heard footsteps coming up behind you, you figured that it was Sungchan.
“Back so soon, love?” You asked with humor in your voice, standing up straight and turning around. All warmth that was in your chest froze and turned to dread when you saw who was actually behind you.
“Y/N. Been a while since you called me that.” You hadn’t seen your ex in over a year. Not since a week after you’d found out he’d been cheating on you throughout the entirety of your short-lived relationship, when he’d come to pick up what few things he had at your place. But somehow he was at your friends’ bakery now.
“I never did.” You reminded him through gritted teeth. “And clearly I didn’t mean to now.”
Pivoting back around, you crossed your arms and stared straight ahead at the menu board behind the counter.
“Back to your old type, huh?” He was peeling back the collar of your blouse to reveal all of your mating bite.
You snapped around, slapping his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Humans weren’t good enough, so you’re back on the werewolf dick, of course.”
You couldn’t stand to be in here for another second with him sneering at you like this. He wasn’t worth it. You could leave, go around the corner and text Sungchan and tell him where you are and what happened. The two of you could just go somewhere else for the afternoon.
“I’m not going to justify myself to someone like you, so if you’ll excuse me—” You tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
He seized your wrist. “Y/N, come on—”
“Let go of her.” Jeno had appeared at your side, stepping in between you and pulling your ex’s hand off of you.
“Oh, Jeno,” you breathed his name out as a sigh of relief, almost absent-mindedly, as you withdrew your hand back to your chest.
The human was unfazed, though, a sick delight lighting up his eyes as he looked Jeno up and down. “You must be the lucky dogboy. I should tell you, for your sake, she has a type, if you know what I mean. Dated two werewolves before me, and she broke up with me because I just couldn’t satisfy her like she was used to.”
“You’re disgusting,” you hissed.
“She broke up with you because you’re a cheating scumbag, actually.” Sungchan was back from the bathrooms, and strode up behind your ex, a deep frown already etched onto his features.
“That’s the lucky wolf whose girlfriend you just manhandled.” Jeno pointed up at him.
Sungchan clearly hadn’t witnessed anything, as his eyebrows raised minutely at the word ‘manhandled’ before his frown became a hard glare and he pushed your ex back against the wall by the shoulder. “If you grab her again, you lose the hand and the arm it’s attached to.”
The human looked around Sungchan at you with wide eyes. You nodded firmly in agreement with what your boyfriend had just said. Sounded plenty reasonable to you.
“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back, we don’t want scumbags for customers,” Jeno growled, folding his arms over his chest.
The human had to wrench his shoulder out from Sungchan’s grip, giving the lot of you a final glare before storming out of the bakery. When you could finally no longer see him, you let out a shaky breath, and Sungchan immediately came over to wrap his arms around you. There was a vein protruding on his forehead that you weren’t used to seeing, and his jaw was still clenched tightly.
“Thanks, Sung.” You pressed yourself into his side, all too happy to be back in his familiar warmth. You weren’t going to forget about your friend that had come to your aid first, though. “You too, Jeno.”
“Yeah, thank you, Jeno.” Sungchan clapped the other werewolf on the back sincerely. “On one hand I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Y/N, but on the other… I’m kind of glad I wasn’t because—”
“You might’ve actually broken his hand if you had been. I know, I know.” Jeno interrupted him humorously, despite how not humorous that outcome would’ve been. Satisfactory in the moment, yes, but ultimately not worth the criminal charges he could’ve pressed against Sungchan. “Try some werewolf meditation apps.”
“They have those?”
“You’ve never had to look into those before. Ha! Mr. Zen Werewolf taking advice on werewolf meditation apps from me! Oh, hold on, she’s going to get a kick out of this one, I’ve got to go tell her.” Jeno pointed to the kitchen over his shoulder with a thumb, turning around and pushing a door open, laughing the whole way back.
As Jeno relayed this hilarious revelation to his girlfriend, Sungchan led you over to a small loveseat in the corner of the bakery, settling the two of you down on it. Judging by the dual cackling laughter now coming from the kitchens, it was going to be a while before you’d be able to get your pastries.
“I know I can’t prevent everything bad ever from happening, but…” Sungchan laced his right hand with your left and rubbed slow circles into your skin with his thumb. “I hope you’ll always let me be there with you after.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, gazing at your lunar rings displaying matching half moons. “Always, Sung. We made a deal, remember?”
“Of course,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
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nexility-sims · 2 months
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𝐍𝐎. 𝟐   ❛ 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ❜   |   NAKAWE, EARLY MARCH 1991
❧  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.
❛ News about the royal family filled broadcasts throughout the day as cheerful early birds, irreverent talk show hosts, and straight journalists alike seized on recent developments. Nothing was too trivial or unremarkable. With the quiet of death and mourning over, the messy aftermath presented opportunity—for ratings, among other things.
❧ ahhh !!! ngl, i'm very proud of this, and i think that it's an improvement on the last television montage. happy to report that there will be more :^) big grateful shoutout to @madebysimblr for the two hosts i lightly edited and renamed ! also shoutout to tom noguchi’s book for the direct inspiration djdhjf
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓
TRANSCRIPT:
morning news
[J] That bird risked everything to put out the fire! Inspiring.
[E] It’s the Morning in Nakawe promise—wholesome coverage to start your day, every day.
[E] Now, as you know, it’s been several weeks since Princess Safya’s tragic death. It looks like her family is finally getting back to normal. We got a glimpse of some beach outings this week.
[E] Safe to say Abelina has quickly stolen hearts nationwide.
[J] Everything we’ve seen suggests she’s a sweetheart.
[E] And there she is enjoying some fun in the sun with her father. I think we’re all excited to see more of this little family—especially with two new members on the way.
[J] First Reyes twins in recent memory!
[J] Princess Leonor also took to the beach in Nakawe, although she spent her time reading instead of swimming. I bet booksellers are going to see that one flying off the shelves this week.
[E] I’ll admit that I already bought my copy! That’s Ogechi Suzu’s 1987 magical realism bestseller Learning to Fly. No spoilers, but it’s about a woman who can suddenly transform into a parrot.
[J] That’s a classic story, isn’t it? What’s Suzu’s take?
[E] A Nakawe city girl has to crisscross all of Uspana to find herself. There’s love and computers. It’s a modern update.
daytime talk
[F] Okay, we’re back! We couldn’t get a Reyes on our little broadcast, so Mencia Cipac’s here to discuss where we are post-Princess Safya. Mencia was a palace correspondent for years, and she published a fabulous book on royal childhood last fall. Today’s person of interest is a big girl now, but—well, is she really?
[F] Safya’s baby. That’s how we know her. Who is she now?
[M] That’s the question. In my book, I thought I had an answer. We’re going to watch a young person invent herself in real time—all while dealing with such extraordinary events. The premature death of a parent. Losing a role that was, by all accounts, her nascent identity.
[F] In public! Publicly.
[M] That’s right. The scrutiny and attention ... We know how hard it is. Going from a little girl to a young woman is always hard. In the public eye, even under normal circumstances, it’s absurd. In our modern history, this turn of events is unprecedented.
[F] To think, we really haven’t even known who she is.
[M] We never really know, but we make great educated guesses. We’ve see her through the prism of her role, particularly this past year. That isn’t unusual for royalty, here or elsewhere. A hard worker. Our queen’s “little shadow.” That just won’t be true anymore. I mean, we know—we’ve guessed—how Queen Beatriz is.
{Audience murmurs}
[M] So, where does that leave her? It is hard to predict. I wonder if she’ll continue to work in a similar fashion—become a loyal worker for the institution like Martin, perhaps.
[F] Oh, I hope not! Can you imagine? How dull! A beautiful girl. She’s so young. She should do something interesting—for me, because I want to see it. Someone get her on the line!
{Audience laughs}
[M] The recent surveys suggest that’s how many Uspanians feel. They sympathize, but they crave newness and excitement. Our public figures let us live vicariously, don’t they? Leonor’s generation is lagging—all children, of course, all off-limits. That means she’s the lighting rod for that collective anticipation.
[F] She was at the beach here in Nakawe the other day. The gossip is some surfers out there were chatting her up. You’ve seen those boys! She deserves the attention but, oh, so do I—!
{Crowd cheers}
[M] The talk has shifted immensely, hasn’t it? We thought there would be a wedding in a year or two, and now it’s all up in the air.
[F] Who cares about that nobody, really? The whole thing was so sweet it made my teeth hurt. Give us someone new. Someones, even.
[M] To people in my profession, the coming weeks are going to be significant. Whether she’s working as we expect or occupied some other way, her public life will be different. Romance is part of that, sure.
[F] A young girl needs it. Us old ones, too. Maybe a self esteem boost will help her out of this funk. It’s depressing, frankly, how bad she looks in those photos we’ve seen lately.
{Audience murmurs}
[F] Hey! She looks great, though! The baby fat is melting away. That mourning diet did wonders, wow. She always looked like her mother—the body, too, you know. Blessing and a curse.
[M] There’s some resemblance to her father, too.
{Audience grumbles}
[F] Jail! Legal won’t let me talk, but: right, ladies?
{Audience murmuring, interspersed clapping}
[F] Anyway, she has his coloring, yes. The darker skin—which, you know, is a shame since her mother had a very pretty complexion. Brighteners? Sunscreen? Maybe we could have a segment on good products. Bring in a dermatologist or two?
{Audience applauds}
evening news
[B] Alright, last update before the hour ends.
[R] That’s right. The Office of the Crown has given a timeline and some details on the transition. First, Princess Safya’s three children will be retaining their titles—that’s “princes” and “princess.”
[B] Courtesy, most likely.
[R] There was no explanation, but our colleagues over at Palace Affairs seem to believe so. Arnaut, meanwhile, is officially the Crown Prince of Uspana, per the same memorandum released today.
[B] That’s a big deal. I mean, we are looking at the future head of state. People my age associate him with, well, velvet and gambling. He’ll lead the nation in time. In your lifetime, if not mine.
[R] Well, Bernardo, the reality is that does concern some.
[B] It remains to be seen whether that’s fair. The coming months are going to be quite the test for him.
[R] You’ll recall better than me that he was tested in the 1970s and still hasn’t recovered—according to this month’s polls, anyway.
[B] Uspanians may not want to give him a chance, but he’ll be addressing the Assembly to formally accept the role all the same.
[R] And we’ll be reporting as it happens later this week. For now, that’s it for us. UBC Nightly News with Inti Rivera starts now.
nightly news
[R] Yesterday afternoon, Crown aides joined the chief medical examiner involved in the investigation of Princess Safya’s death for a press conference. Some reporters’ questions revealed the influence of rumor on what Uspana’s public now wants to know.
[R1] My understanding is that the Crown has not accepted the investigation’s conclusions. Can you confirm?
[A1] Incorrect. The Crown is uninvolved. Dr. Siodina issued a ruling, and the family asked questions strictly as surviving loved ones.
[R2] Did intoxication play a role in what happened?
[S] It isn’t my opinion that it led to her being in the water. It did contribute to the drowning itself.
[R3] Why did she leave the yacht?
[S] That’s a question with a psychological answer rather than a forensic one, I think.
{Reporters murmur}
[R4] Did an altercation with her husband, Lord Rodrigo, occur that night that would have caused her to leave?
[S] Um .... A moment, please.
{Reporters resume murmuring}
[A2] {whispering} Officially, yes, they argued.
[S] There was a disagreement, yes.
[A2] {whispering} No violence.
[S] It was, however, entirely civil.
{Reporters, clamoring}
[R] Following what some are now calling a, quote, “unmitigated disaster,” the Crown announced that it plans to conduct its own formal but unofficial inquiry into the accident as well as the investigation itself. In a twist, sources suggest this plan could have been in the works prior to the conference. This is a developing story.
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scummy-writes · 2 months
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Scum talks about OCs
In this I'm just going to go over my Ocs in sections of their own. I'm not really using a special Oc template, I'm just talking about them and what fics they appear in, because to be blunt, I do write 'reader inserts', but some fics are written with these ocs in mind even if they're not detailed out specifically.
I'm just chatting about for fun, this will not change how I write currently. I would not expect fanfics about these characters specifically.
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Amélie - Drawn by @beni-draw-ikemen-please. (Full picture is her in a chair with Isaac sittin on the arm of it, and Arthur resting his head on her lap <3 I love it)
Anju, made with a Picrew here. I think her expression is a bit too gentle here, and she would mainly wear warmer yellows or cool toned blues, not the shirt in the image.
SS from Prince of my WIP OC for it, since she's fuckin impossible to make on picrews. Her current name is Constance.
I am honestly surprised people showed some interest in this, so bear with me through my bumbling please. A lot of these say 'mc' but they are 'reader insert' fics still. Previous fandoms had 'mc' interchangable with 'reader' so...
If you have any questions, feel free to ask, just know I might not have all the answered.
╰❧ Amélie
Amélie has been around for a few years, and Beni has been a saint for letting me comm her to draw her. Because of this, I was able to make a character profile for her Here. Additionally, a much older one Here that details some vague things about her past, and including her past with Sebastian (Childhood friends).
-> Fanfics she has been 'in': Breathless Discoveries (Isaac/Mc), Mental Gravity (Isaac/Mc), Blessed Accidents (Isaac/Mc), Exercise in Restraint (Isaac/Mc), Temptations (Arthur/Mc), A Helping Hand (Arthur/Mc), His (Theo/Mc), Playful Punishments [vaguely] (Isaac/Mc/Arthur), Midnight Impulses [Vaguely] (Isaac/Mc/Arthur), Musings (Isaac/Mc), Oral Prompt with Isaac, First Steps (Isaac/Mc), The Talk (Isaac/Mc), The Shirt Thief (Isaac/Mc), Isaac Overworking (Isaac/Mc/Arthur), Awkward Dates (Isaac/Mc), and likely some other small drabbles I have missed...!
─❧ Summary: (Brief mentions of abuse/SA/Trauma but not explicit details)
A lot of her general background is covered in the second character profile I linked above. It sounds vague, and well! That is because it is a bit traumatic. I don't want to gloss over the fact that she has been through a lot, primarily SA, but I don't like focusing entirely on it to where that is the Only thing about her. Her previous job was ... an 'idol'? I never fleshed it out fully, due to self embarassment, but I wanted her to be a singer with a 'small' following, who got connected with shitty producers and signed a contract way too young without understanding the full implications of it, which caused most of her money to not actually be Hers. Due to her parents strongly against her career choice, going as far as rushing a contract ended up having her cut off from her family. With Sebastian gone, her support network disappeared completely.
She Vaguely goes over this in Patchworked Pieces (be mindful of tags), which was supposed to be a full fanfic detailing her story, but I am not meant for long fanfics at all so I posted what scenes I had typed enough with. on the chapter On Failed Attempts, she details a bit more of her experiences.
How she met Comte was through the normal opening of visiting the muesuem. She did it under distress and wanting a distraction, she was weighing options and considing some pretty awful things! I like to think Comte could tell she was beside herself and trying to calm down a little. I like to think he could sense the distress and the thing she was contemplating, and led her back to the mansion.
Which! Is rocky. She's terrified of everyone, until she sees Sebastian, and he helps ease her into her mansion life. She never tells Sebastian what she went through, due to worries and fears that he would manage to blame himself. So in her story, he never finds out.
Isaac is the primary person who knows some details, but not everything. She'd tell both him and Arthur some bare minimums, just so that when things got intimate, her panic attacks for 'random' reasons wouldn't make them believe it was because of them.
As for how they all entangle with each other? Well... Amélie is not what brings them together, necessarily.
Before she arrives, Arthur attempts to get close to Isaac. It is platonic at first, perhaps he had a crush on him but waves it off. But alcohol is introduced, they start 'drinking' together (Isaac is still a lightweight so he barely builds up his tolerance, mostly keeps Arthur some company), and...They get too tipsy and adventurous with each other. Arthur gets ashamed immediately. Not out of doing things with another man, because it was clear he was using Isaac to get over some trauma. So he avoids, hides, and their friendship crumbles.
And after that is when Amélie stumbles into the mansion.
Her friendship with Isaac is the most prevelant. And after getting on a better start with Arthur, they end up slowly getting entangled with each other. Isaac, unfortunately, deals with the brunt of her panic attacks. Finds scars, attempts to heal them.
It's through healing that they all twine together. Helping each other face their traumas, face what happened between them all.
Ironically, her love for singing was bounced in and out of the story. I wanted a few scenes where she tries to play in one of the many secluded rooms in the mansion- finds an old piano while cleaning, places a few notes. But I don't think she'd be able to any time soon. I think she would need a break for a year or two, before she started exploring music again. Or anything super creative.
I like to imagine that she is friends with a majority of the residents. When she is faring better, she paints with Leonardo and Vincent. She listens to Mozart play, reads what Dazai and Arthur write, so on so forth. I want her to live in a house with Arthur and Isaac, later on, visiting the mansion weekly or every two weeks, happy with her new life.
Sometimes I pair her with Theo, because I think they could help each other, but I think she is fated to be with Isaac and Arthur.
In AUs, I like to imagine Anju as her older friend. Anju does not tolerate a lot of bullshit with Amélie, and would be a bit like a guard dog. But. an unassuming one. She would treat Arthur very harshly until he proves himself. (I am unsure if I ever posted it, but I wrote a few chapters to go with This Au Fic for Isaac week. The second chapter, Anju was supposed to be a witch to help Amélie out after some events [was gonna have Isaac die and then it turn into a reincarnation au thing where they meet again in modern day, and in modern day Anju was gonna be around], and Anju has to help her move forward.)
I've been typing this on and off for a few hours and I am struggling with some details HAHA for now, I will stop here. She's the one OC that has a lot out there for her.
Oh. Amélie is not her 'real' name, but it is now. I am unsure if it is in poor taste or not, but in an attempt to heal she abandoned a lot of her old life. Not Herself, but trying to let go of the past until she could confront it more. She goes by Amélie until the end of her days, and only Sebas and likely Comte know her old name.
╰❧ Anju
-> Fanfics she's been 'in': Training Theo (Theo/Reader)
─❧ Summary: (Vague mentions of parental issues)
OoooOOoooOh Anju....anju....wails.
She is such a complicated Oc for me. She was originally for Shingen in ikes*n (i dont want this on the tags on accident). I still debate if the character she is now still stems from that relationship or not. Because if so, that means she left the past and came back to the present because her and Shingen didn't work out. Not in a TERRIBLE way but probably a sad mutual understanding.
It's either that, or she's just pretty sour from general past relationships not working out.
I like to imagine that she is in her thirties, and that she lives in a neighborhood where everyone knows each other in friendly ways. She is a 'seamstress' just due to how Sengoku has that set up for the Mc. I decied that her grandmother taught her how to sew, and her grandmother owned a small shop to repair peoples clothes and sew clothes for commission as well (i know nothing about how this works so). She would help her grandmother at her shop, and later on when her grandmother passed, she would take over the shop.
As for her parents, I never fully fleshed them out. I just know her mother was constantly comparing herself to other children/people around her, and that their relationship dissolved to the point of Anju refusing to aknowledge her as a mother any longer. The crux of this would cause Anju to move the shop to a different location completely to sever ties. (not move physically, but open another shop elsewhere after funds were saved with the same name).
For Vamp, she relocates her ass to France for Reasons. And here is where it is... well. I don't think a shop like this could exist, but i wish it would. pls spare me from laughs HAHA
The shop I always imagined is the type where the ground floor is the shop, and upstairs is where Anju lives. So upstairs would house her kitchen, living room, and Bedroom and bathroom, a balcony connected to the kitchen would be. great. Lower floor would have the shop, her sewing area, a room to hang up comms and etc, and the 'front' of the shop. Front of the shop is the porch and the actual like...foyer area....of the shop.
She spends a lot of her time sitting in the foyer area at a desk, if she is not actively working on sewing. .....I like to imagine she has a small sitting area set up there for people (children, family, friends, partners, etc) waiting while whoever she is working on measurements and etc with is getting their stuff. With....a lil coffee/tea area....very very small like a coffee maker and some stuff....but cozy vibes... (and she wanted a coffee machine near her while working).
She'll sit on the porch often in the mornings while waiting for customers or going through shop bills and whatever, and that is how she meets Arthur in a modern day setting. By him taking 'Vic' (or whatever pet he is on now) on a walk, Vic escaping, and running up to Anju because he wants pets HAHA.
For first meeting, Anju thinks Arthur is cute, but recognizes the fuckboy tendances. However, i feel like at this point of living as a vampire for so long, Arthur wouldn't be how he is in the game currently. As in, not entirely as self destructive and a smidgen more at peace with himself, but still has the tendencies. She doesn't think too much on the meeting, loves Vic though, and goes from there...
But Arthur doesn't. He gets hung up on her a little, and finds excuses to run into her a bit more. Nothing crazy, but primarily just walking Vic by there and seeing if he can catch her on the porch again, waving, exchanging greetings and pets for Vic. It would turn into him eventually finding an excuse to get some clothing mended, which she can very easily tell is bullshit, but she entertains it because... he's respectful the whole time. She enjoys the company and the innocent flirting.
It comes to a clusterfuck when they spot each other at a bar though. Where he sees how differently she's dressed, where it's clear she's looking for one night stands and nothing else. (He is also alarmed at her smoking HAHA). Arthur doesn't do much with this information, but she immediately tries shutting him out because. Well, she isn't ashamed to have casual sex with others, but she doesn't want the fuckboy tendancies to come back for him. She doesn't want this fake relationship to delve into sex and nothing more. So she puts up walls, and Arthur has to slowly take them down. And it is a rocky thing, because Anju is so independant and refuses to rely on anyone else, so it's a LOT of trouble HAHA a lot of dramatics.
They do fuck, because well they both enjoy sex so why not!!!!! but ah. it's complicated. I think I have a scene of that somewhere. I cannot remember if I have that happen before or after him visiting her home/shop at night when he's drunk. I think it was before.
But Arthur was supposed to go to her place, drunk, because she has such a schedule with her shop/hobbies that it's easy to piece together that she's home, and she essentially lets him stay over in pity because he's wailing about messing up his friendship with Theo.
From there it turns into awkward, more up in the air things. I played with her getting with Arthur only, Theo only, Arthur and Theo, or even Vincent! But the Arthur/Theo subplot would have been too similar to the Isaac/Arthur one in Amélie's story. (Sorry for causing you so much distress, Arthur).
I like to imagine her in her shop. Arthur flirting with her while the neighborhood granny laughs at her attempts to ignore the flirting.
╰❧ Constance
-> Fanfics she's been 'in': Sinking (Gilbert/Reader) [Descriptions of Self Harm], First Time (Gilbert/Reader), Chev comforts Mc
─❧ Summary: (Mentions of self harm, abuse)
Constance....! Is still a running name. I may change it, I may not. I'm unsure about her appearance, I know I want her to have the split hair and to dress in similar colors though, but her eyecolor I am so conflicted on...
But...! Her story is still being fleshed out, and she has changed a lot. She is now strictly for Gilbert, whereas she was supposed to be a flexible oc for either Clavis or Gilbert. (Maybe she still could be?)
So far, her story is still like Emma's so far. her and Rio friends for years, Akatsuki taking her in, etc. In my mind, she doesn't know who her parents are and is somewhat in peace of that.
I've bounced around a lot with her though, to where the Rio and Akatsuki being in her BG makes little sense. i've wanted her to be someone who writes and sings, but does not preform and instead has a friend that preforms for her. Where they have private sessions of Constance singing and exampling some of the dancing to her friend, and later on watching her friend preform the songs and bringing her visions to life. (i like this a lot but it feels...odd.)
I want her carrying a notebook around the palace, filled with her drawings and songwriting. Far in the journal, there is drawings of Gilbert- not because she knows him, but because long before she saw him slinking around Rhodolite and drew him out of facination of how he looked (did not piece together he was a Scary Dude). (would add a lot of fuel to fire if anyone saw those drawings COUGHS)
In another bouncing, I have her as a secret wrtier/artist that writes songs that are never preformed. I thought it would be funny if she wrote the erotica that Jin apparently reads??? I can never fgure out if thats canon or not because i never see it Mentioend in the game.
In both possible backgrounds for her, she is still a quiet and reserved person who suffers from a lot of depression, and struggles with herself a lot. The two toned hair was for fun at first, but now I'm realizing it would probably be a good symbol for her inner issues. How she has a lot of 'darkness' inside of her, that she feels disgusted by and upset with, while there is a purity she wishes she had (but fails to come to terms with how that is unreasonable).
To be paired with Clavis, she was supposed to be much more shy, and his antics were supposed to draw her out of her shell more.
But now it's more solidifies that she will be primarily paired with Gilbert due to the purity/darkness thing. She is a little dramatic in her thoughts with that, and is now a bit more serious toned rather than her shyness being played for antics.
She believes Gilbert over his refusal to 'lie', and that draws her in a lot.
Discussion of self harming/SA, when text is blue I am finished.
Something I am struggling with is that with many Ocs, i often have them go through some sexual trauma just due to it being an outlet for myself (i have also had sexual trauma). This may be why you see some themes of this in some fanfics I write, where there is something the reader is struggling with sexually and the suitor is extremely patient with them- it's usually tied to stuff like this (unsure of how obvious that is since no one ever says anything! which feels like an act of kindness, if it is obvious).
For her, I am struggling with adding that into her background as something that is fairly recent with her. Rio doesn't know, she refuses to tell him, and his fondness of her and constantly...hm...i don't mean this poorly, but building her up to be so 'perfect' sometimes causes a lot of issues when she reflects on herself, and she uses those words against herself often.
I don't know if the self harm would be. Due to that SA event or not. I don't know if this is soemthing that has plagued her for years, or if it spiked as her emotions got out of control.
Gilbert would not know. I don't really care if JP spoilers suggest otherwise, as there are already hints that make it clear he doesn't know Everything (he just knows a Lot). A lot of their relationship would be them struggling with self harm and the SA. A lot of her trust gets put into him (even if she dislikes it), because he doesn't lie to her like others do, and it is a comfort. (blah blah gilbert does lie blah blah)
It's hard to explain their relationship. I assume i'll have more figured out as his route comes out. Right now, she's who I imagine when I write some stuff with him, but not all of it.
With Clavis, the relationship would have been more healthy, and so would she. I think she would still struggle with both things, as it could be used as a mutual understanding when they discuss needing to be loved fully and not half-heartedly.
That is a rough gist of what I have for her? I have been typing this for hours and I am running out of steam.
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Annnd....That is that! At least for now. Another detail I will share for all of them is that they are all bi :) All my ocs are always bi.
Again, you guys are free to ask questions. I may update this over time as well. I don't really want criticisms for my ocs though since you guys don't actually deal with them past them popping up as the voice for some reader insert fics. they just sorta rot in my brain and I get comms of them at times.
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theteasetwrites · 1 year
Text
The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning
Chapter 91: Contingency
❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, references to anxiety, generally chaotic/anxiety-inducing situations, pregnancy... ❧ Word Count: 5.7k
❧ In This Chapter: It's been a week since Aaron and Gabriel left to investigate a settlement, and two days since Daryl left with Hornsby and the Commonwealth Army to find them. Now, you're alone, with the kids, and nine months pregnant. It can't get worse, right?
❧ A/N: We're back??? With a new chapter??? Wow. Cool. Crazy. So um we're getting to the end of The Beginning! Or is it? Is there ever really an end? Or a beginning for that matter? These are the existential questions of the series I guess? Idk it's not that deep. Anyway, there is (sadly) no Daryl in this chapter. He's off being a sexy boyboss with great hair and trying to get back to his family to get them out of Commonwealth, but for now, it's Reader (she's basically her own character by now lmao) and the kiddos just hanging out in Commonwealth, trying to stay alive lol. Lots of stuff going on in their world rn, but the priority is, of course, Daryl Jr.
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Two days, and no word about what was going on with the soldiers they sent out to investigate the attack at Riverbend. When you’d tried to ask, inquiring about the safety of your husband and brother, you were told that you were on a “need to know” basis. In other words, if you needed to know, they’d tell you. 
Hornsby must’ve decided you didn’t need to know, because when you confronted Mercer, he told you the same thing.
The stress of it all was beginning to get to you, more than it ever had before. You swore that even living on the road for six months after you lost the farm was easier than this. Then again, you weren’t about nine months pregnant, taking care of four children, and worrying desperately about Daryl and Aaron, all while outside your apartment, hundreds of Commonwealth citizens protested in front of the City Hall, demanding justice after learning about Sebastian’s schemes. At least you had a roof over your head, and plenty of food.
Food that was burning as you stood staring out the kitchen window, watching the protesters brandishing handmade signs, with the words Find him!, Money for LIVES, and How many more have you killed? You absentmindedly held the ten-year-old amethyst around your neck as you chewed your lip in thought, wondering about nothing and everything. 
The people chanted, “We want justice!” over and over and over again. You couldn’t blame them. You’d be out there with them if you weren’t cooking breakfast for the kids. 
What’s that burning smell?
“Aunt (Y/N),” Judith’s voice alerted you. 
“Hm?”
“The pancakes are burning.”
“Oh!”
You scurried back to the stove, where sure enough your pancakes had been charred beyond edibleness. “Shoot,” you huffed, always mindful not to curse in front of the children. “Sorry.”
The four children, Judith, RJ, Gracie, and, of course, your Robin, were sitting at the circular dining room table, each tending to their own crafts. Judith and RJ were drawing, Gracie worked on her beaded jewelry, and Robin was experimenting with watercolors (Daryl had bought her a new set a few months ago). 
As you scooped the burnt, lifeless pancakes into the trash can, Robin stood up to take her water cup and brushes to the sink, where she diligently washed her art supplies. “Mommy,” she said, “when are they coming home?”
You didn’t have to ask, you knew she was referring to her father and her uncle. 
The other children’s heads perked up at the question, as if they, too, were very curious about the answer. 
“Soon, I’m sure,” you replied, offering them a reassuring smile. It was oh, so tiring to pretend that you weren’t incredibly worried that something had happened to them, but you had to put on a brave face for the young ones, especially Robin and Gracie. “Don’t tell me you like their cooking better.”
Robin shrugged as her lip quirked into a precious little smirk. “No… I like Daddy’s pancakes better, though.”
Daryl could only really make two dishes: blueberry pancakes, and stew with squirrels or possum or some other type of roadkill. 
You scruffed up her hair in faux teasing. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I do too.”
The little girl returned to her seat to continue her painting, and just as you were about to prepare another batch of pancake batter, you felt a sharp tightening in your lower belly, which you were reluctant to admit you had been feeling a lot more lately. 
You exhaled a sharp hiss as you held your belly instinctively, slightly doubling over. It was the worst cramp you’d felt yet, and it’d only been getting increasingly strong. Of course, you were brushing it aside as Braxton Hicks contractions, but the closer you got to your due date, April twentieth, the more you began to worry. Really, the baby was due to come any day now, though you were too afraid to even acknowledge it. Daryl wasn’t here, and him not being here terrified you. There was no way you were going to have this baby without him holding your hand. It simply couldn’t happen that way. He gave you strength, made you feel safe. Most of all, you knew he’d hate himself if he missed it, seeing his son’s first moments. 
“You okay?” asked Judith, while Robin looked wide-eyed and panicked as you winced in pain. “Aunt (Y/N)?”
You shook your head, as if to dismiss the concern. “I’m fine,” you said. “Baby’s just… restless.”
When you lifted your head to calm yourself, you found your eyes drawn to the crowd outside again, particularly to two people, a man and a woman, who were fast-walking through the crowd with a stern, cold determination in their eyes and a harshness in their step. They looked to be heading towards the downstairs entrance to your apartment building, and when you stepped a little closer, you could recognize their faces. 
Eugene had told your inner circle about a run-in he’d had with two of Hornsby’s minions. If you remembered correctly, it was them, and you weren’t about to risk anything. 
“What’s wrong?” asked Gracie, noticing your face deepen with concern.
“Um… maybe nothing…” Your paranoia got the best of you, and you turned to face the children, trying your hardest not to scare them, though you looked drained of color and slightly wide-eyed. “Okay, we’re gonna play a game.”
Judith furrowed her brows. “Game? But what about breakfast?”
“We’ll have breakfast later,” you said, frantically beginning to clear up the counter. “Right now, we’re gonna play the, um… Quiet Game.”
Judith and RJ hid in the shower, while Gracie hid under your bed. Robin was the last one to hide, while you scrambled to make the place look less lived-in, in case Hornsby’s goons really were after you and the kids. After all, you had quite a bit to do with Connie’s exposé, and you were starting to wonder if Daryl and Aaron were facing problems with the Commonwealth outside the walls. It’d make sense for them to go looking for you and the kids, to ask you questions… Robin didn’t understand that, but she wanted to.
“What’s going on?” she asked, with all the innocence of a six-year-old (almost seven, she would have you know). “Why are we hiding?”
You sighed as you knelt down to hold her hand, looking her sternly in the eyes as you spoke. “I’m not exactly sure, but… I think there might be some people looking for us, some people we’d rather not talk to. Do you understand?”
Her silvery blue eyes blinked rapidly as her mouth gaped slightly in confusion. She was much too precious, much too young to really understand everything that led to this. 
You held her shoulders and offered a smile, though it was hard to smile when you began to hear the heavy, fast-paced footsteps coming up the stairs in the hallway. 
“Look at me, baby,” you said. “Everything’s gonna be fine, just… listen to me. I need you to hide in that cupboard, the empty one by the fridge. Quiet Game means you gotta try to be as quiet as possible, otherwise you’ll get caught. Like Hide and Seek, but you really don’t want to be found. I’m going to be outside, right on the balcony. I’m too big to hide anywhere in here without getting caught, but if they find you, you make a lot of noise and I’ll help you, okay?”
It was a lot for her to process, but she was a smart child, and obedient. If told to stay quiet, you knew she would, even if she didn’t completely know why. “Okay,” she said with a nod. “What about the baby?”
You looked down to follow her gaze, which was directed at your belly. “He’s fine,” you said, and when you heard those footsteps begin to slow, but come closer, you stood up to quickly open the cabinet and coerce Robin’s small body into the cupboard. “Stay in there until I say the coast is clear, and be quiet.”
Before heading towards the balcony door, you pulled a freshly sharpened butcher knife from the wooden block on the counter, then silently opened and closed the door to hide against the wall on the balcony, waiting.
Soon, you heard a knock at the door, and you were sure your paranoia had paid off. The door opened just a few seconds later, and though you couldn’t see inside the kitchen, you knew they were there. You felt them there, as if your motherly instincts told you your child was frightened, and she was.
Robin’s breath hitched as she peered out through the small crevice between the cabinet doors, allowing her to see the large, bald man walking around the kitchen, while a woman with dark hair entered her bedroom, then Judith and RJ’s bedroom, then the master bedroom, then the bathroom… 
The man stayed in the kitchen, though, his presence terrifying the young child, though he seemed to not know she was just a few feet away from him, cowering in the cabinet. 
Memories floated to the surface, invoking that same feeling of dread as when she’d hidden herself in that secret compartment within her closet back at home, while the evil giant in the dead man’s mask who still haunted her dreams a year later lumbered around her bedroom, looking for her. 
When she felt a lump begin to form in her throat, and a whimper about to release from her lips, she cupped both hands over her mouth to silence herself. The man came closer, though, examining the fridge, upon which were several drawings, paintings, and photographs that had been collected by your family the last seven or eight months. 
There was one that had been taken at the Autumn festival, with you, Robin, RJ, and Judith in your costumes, and Daryl dressed as he normally did, but a sweet, soft grin upon his face as he held Robin’s hand, who held yours, too. His other hand rested on Judith’s shoulder, and yours on RJ’s, with your belly much smaller than it was now. Carol had taken the photo, and when it developed, you were almost tempted to make holiday greeting cards, though you knew that kind of thing was both unnecessary and slightly annoying. In any case, it belonged on your fridge, until the bald man took it, and stuffed it in his pocket.
He moved away from the fridge then, allowing Robin to silently release her breath as a small tear trickled down her cheek. 
The woman soon emerged from the hallway. “It’s empty,” she said. “Are you sure he didn’t say anything else?”
“Dixon was the only name that came through,” the man replied, sending a fresh wave of panic through the youngest Dixon’s chest. 
She watched the woman cross the kitchen to peer out the glass door leading to the balcony, and for a moment, Robin feared that the woman would open it, though if she knew her mother well enough, she figured that woman would be in big trouble if she did open the door and find you.
Indeed, you held your knife close to your chest, blade pointed upwards and ready to strike if the woman came outside. 
There was silence for a while, when the woman crossed back over to the dining room table where Robin and the other children had been sitting just minutes ago. 
She investigated the assortment of craft materials splayed out on the table, and spoke once more before they left: “Let’s check the school.”
When you heard the door close, and waited a few moments in silence, you quickly returned to the kitchen to open the cabinet, ushering Robin out. “Come on,” you said, still trying to be quiet. “We’re leaving.”
To where, you weren’t exactly sure, but you had friends here, so surely someone from Alexandria would take you in. One thing was certain, you weren’t going to leave the Commonwealth, not with your baby so close to his due date. 
You retrieved the other kids, and instructed them to pack their school backpacks for the day. Whatever was going on, you didn’t like the sound of what the man had said, about the name “Dixon.” It seemed as though you were wanted, by Hornsby.
When the kids were prepared, you slung your purse over your shoulder and picked up the emergency hospital bag Daryl had meticulously put together (intending to be even more prepared this time when the baby would come). You turned to face the curious, confused, and slightly concerned children, then gave them yet another assuring smile. “We’re going on a little adventure today,” you said, in a slightly sing-song voice. They weren’t buying it. They were all too smart.
As you turned to open the front door, you heard more footsteps just outside, and the sound of shifting movements. Great, you thought. We’re America’s Most Wanted.
Your voice turned serious once again. “I need you guys to go back to the bedroom and wait,” you said quietly, gesturing towards Robin’s room. “And don’t come out until I call. Go.”
They each nodded obediently, retreating to Robin’s bedroom. 
You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as you prepared to answer the door. This time, though, a familiar voice called out to you from the other side. “(Y/N),” said Carol, whispering rather loudly. “Are you home?”
With a sigh of relief, you slowly opened the door, revealing Carol, and then Jerry behind her. The further you opened the door, the more surprised you became. 
Negan’s face showed itself, slightly smirking at you. It was a familiar sight, but not an expected one.
Your brows furrowed as your jaw dropped a little. You hadn’t seen him in… almost a year. Not that you particularly missed him. “Negan?”
He smiled, lifting his hands a little as if to present himself as a gift. “Well, if it isn’t the goddamn Ice Queen herself. How are you, sweetheart?” His eyes immediately trailed to your stomach, where one hand cradled your baby bump. “Ho-ly shit, you’ve been busy.”
The three visitors came inside, with Jerry standing “guard” behind the front door. Though at first you were mostly irritated to see Negan again, he quickly made himself useful, sitting down with you and Carol to inform you about what was going on outside the walls. But of course, the first question you could ask him was, “Daryl and Aaron, are they all right?”
“Depends what you mean by ‘all right.’”
You glowered at Negan, both worried and incredibly annoyed by his Negan-isms. “Now is not the time.”
“They’re alive,” he said. “But they’re being hunted. Maggie and Gabriel are with them, too. What I know is that Hornsby brought Daryl, Aaron, and Gabe to Hilltop with the whole Stormtrooper Squad, and Maggie didn’t, uh… respond well.”
“What exactly happened?” asked Carol.
“Hornsby tried to scare Maggie by interrogating Hershel, so the thought is that he is somehow gonna use the kid to draw her people out.”
“And Daryl wouldn’t let that happen,” you said, understanding your husband’s motivations to turn against Hornsby. “Right?”
“Your man turned an automatic rifle on the bastard and tried to hit him with a car at full speed,” he replied. “I’d say they aren’t exactly on good terms.”
“And that’s why they came here,” figured Carol. 
Negan nodded. “Uh huh.”
You thought for a moment, processing the whole thing. “But if Hornsby sent those two,” you said, “that means he’s keeping it under the radar.”
“Which means we might be able to get ahead of them,” Carol added. “And him.” You could see the cogs working in Carol’s mind. She always had a plan, even if they weren’t always the best plans. At least she thought of something. “Jerry, do you still have access to that attic space?”
You looked wide-eyed between Carol and Jerry, not knowing that there was such a thing. “Attic space?” you asked. 
“Contingency plan,” replied Jerry. “It’s stocked with supplies, too. No one knows about it. Well, except Carol.”
“Keep the kids there and get word to the others,” instructed Carol. “Tell them to be ready to move on your signal.”
“Get ready for what?” you asked. “I mean, it’s not like we can just… stroll out the front gate.”
“That’s why me and Negan are gonna try to get some insurance,” she replied. 
That sounded all fine and dandy, but there were still some things to be discussed. “I hate to sound self-centered,” you said, “but, where exactly do I fit into this plan?”
“Aren’t you pregnant?” asked Negan. “Or are you hiding a watermelon under that dress?”
If you weren’t trying to get along with Negan for the sake of your family and friends, you’d consider telling him off, but there was no time to argue. “I’m pregnant,” you said, “but the kids are my responsibility. If anything happens to them—”
“(Y/N),” said Carol, reaching over to place a hand over yours. “Jerry will take care of the kids… You should stay here. You can’t be running around.”
Indeed, your feet were swollen and aching terribly, and your legs could barely carry you. To get through the crowd undetected, you’d have to be quick on your feet. You weren’t physically able to do that now. Not with a good ten pounds added to your abdomen. 
Still, there was that other terrible feeling: loneliness. If Jerry took the kids by himself, you’d be alone, and you were scared. As much as you hated to admit it, after everything you’d been through, being without Daryl, or even Aaron, this far into your pregnancy, when you were sure you were going to go into labor soon, was difficult. You couldn’t say that in front of Carol, though. She was known to be unforgiving and, at times, rather coldhearted, even to you. 
“Okay,” you said. “But… Jerry, please don’t let anything happen to them.”
He offered a smile. You trusted him immensely, but he wasn’t you. “Of course.”
You fetched the children from Robin’s room, telling them that they were to go with Uncle Jerry and to listen to everything he said. The other children joined Jerry in the living room, but Robin took a moment to hug you, holding her stuffed white rabbit in one hand as it dangled over your back. 
“I love you, sweet pea,” you said, squeezing her tight as you kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you later, once this whole thing outside dies down. Maybe Daddy and Uncle Aaron will be home by then.” You pulled away to smile at her, and to brush her bangs aside. The almost blonde highlights in her wavy, caramel colored hair shone in the sunlight that poured through her bedroom window. She looked so much like her father, especially when you first met him. Her cheeks had that same delicate contour, but she was more youthful, and more perpetually curious looking. You supposed she inherited that from you. “You’re so precious to me,” you said. “You know that?”
She chewed her lip, then lowered her head as she spoke. “I don’t wanna go,” she said. “I wanna stay with you… Daddy told me to take care of you.”
Your eyes widened as you let out a chuckle and a snort. “What? That’s silly, I’m supposed to take care of you.” You poked her belly to elicit a small hiccup from the child. “Dog will take care of me.” You nodded to the sleeping canine, lounging on Robin’s bed.
She shook her head vehemently, with an adorably stern look on her face. The tightness in her lips was uncharacteristic of her, but it was always interesting to see a new side of Robin. “No,” she said, for the first time in her life being particularly disobedient, and stubborn. “I’m not going nowhere. I’m staying with you. That’s what Daddy would want, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”
You tilted your head and sighed. “Robin Elizabeth,” you said, and she knew that when you used her two names, you were serious, “where is this coming from?”
“Dixon’s stay together,” she said, showing you her bracelet, the familiar beads spelling out DIXON. “And you shouldn’t be alone. You and the baby.”
“Robin, I—”
“Almost ready, kiddo?” Negan’s voice interrupted you unintentionally, and Robin smiled at the man, though her eyes remained serious. 
“Hi, Negan,” she said, crossing her room to hug him. “Where have you been?”
“Oh, here and there… Hey, you ready to go with Jerry?”
She looked between you and Negan, then firmly stood her ground. Well, as firmly as she could. She still wasn’t quite used to this “rebellious” thing. “I want to stay with my mom,” she said, putting on her grown-up voice she’d recently developed. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”
You shook your head and crossed your arms, unsure of what to do. “She should go with the others,” you said. “It’ll be safer once they get to the attic.”
“Kid, why don’t you let me talk to your mom for a minute?” he asked. “Maybe I can talk some sense into her.”
Negan? Talking sense? Into me?
Robin headed into the living room, and Negan gently shut the door behind her, turning to face you as you sat yourself on the rocking chair by Daryl Jr.’s crib. “She can be stubborn,” you said. “But not like this. She always listens to me. She might… fight it a little, but she listens.”
Negan huffed as he leaned against the wall, his eyes trailing around Robin’s bedroom, then finally landing on you. “She should stay,” he said. “In case…” He gestured with his finger towards your abdomen. “You know.”
“Pfft,” you scoffed. “What is my six-year-old daughter going to do? She’s just a child herself. I need… I need Daryl. I’m so scared. Everything is just… not working out the way I thought it would.”
“How did you think it would go?”
“Well,” you sighed, “I didn’t think Daryl and Aaron would go rogue, but I know they have their reasons. This place isn’t like what we thought it was. Or maybe it’s exactly like what we thought it was… I don’t know. I just… I thought I could have the baby here, and then go back to Alexandria, once everything was fixed. Carry on, like it was before the Whisperers. What I really want is to not be afraid for once. For a while, I guess I wasn’t, but it’s always there. Fear. The older I get, the more I realize that it never goes away, and that we just find more things to be afraid of.”
You felt the baby kick inside you, as he had been doing for a while now, though this one felt stronger than all the others. “Now, this baby… I’m afraid he’s not going to have the life Robin did, and I’m afraid that Robin won’t have that life again, either. I thought… I thought they would be okay. I think I got my hopes up again. I always get my hopes up. God, I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” replied Negan, in that serious tone of his. “You were trying. Trying to live. And, Hell, it’s working. You’ve made it this far.”
“But you said they’re hunting us, hunting our people. Trying to kill them. What kind of life is that? And for this?” You gestured to the air around you. “This place is corrupt. It’s like… everything bad about the old world in one place.”
“Maybe,” agreed Negan. “But what’s important right now is sticking together, and your kid, she’s smart. She knows that. Let her stay with you. Besides, no one can keep her safer than you.”
You laughed and shook your head. “Well, Daryl could… But I would do anything to keep her safe.”
You thought for a moment, stroking your abdomen as you felt another kick, and another, stronger contraction. Negan eyed you worryingly, then stepped closer, kneeling down to face you. “You all right?” he asked.
“Mhm. Fine.”
Negan was suspicious, but he also knew you well enough to know that if you really thought it was bad, you’d say so. “What’s the story?” he asked, nodding towards your stomach. 
“What do you think?” you asked. “Do you know how babies are made, Negan? Or is that beyond your comprehension level?”
He chuckled under his breath. “Yeah… You know, I got married.”
You scrunched your face in confusion. “What?”
“Yeah, met a lady out there… Her name’s Annie. She’s with Daryl and the others right now, actually.” He smiled as you continued to stare at him in bewilderment. “What, are you surprised?”
“Frankly, yes. What woman in her right mind would—” His smile began to fade, and though you had no reason to, you felt a little bad. You still hated him, but you felt bad. Just a little. “I mean, um… I am a little surprised, yes. You don’t… seem like the marrying type.” That was a nicer way to say what you were really thinking, which was that any woman who would willingly marry Negan either didn’t know about his past, or knew about it, and was an equally morally bankrupt person.
“Hm, you know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Ice Queen is a little jealous.” 
Your eyes widened in amusement. “Jealous? Oh, please, don’t make me laugh. I’m nine months pregnant, my bladder can’t take it.”
“Oh,” he said, standing back on his feet, “that reminds me, Annie’s pregnant, too.”
You huffed and folded your arms over your belly. “You’re messing with me, right?”
“Nope,” he said, hitting the p sound especially hard. “Not as far along as you, but she’s got a bun in the oven.”
You tilted your head and glared slightly at him. “Is this information supposed to make me like you or something? Some kind of… Negan redemption arc?”
He only chuckled, then turned to leave Robin’s room. “You gonna be okay, you and her, and the baby?”
“Fine,” you said. “Daryl Jr. isn’t coming out today. I won’t let him.”
Famous last words.
Robin sat upon the window seat in her bedroom, looking out to keep an eye out for Jerry and her “cousins” as he led them through the crowd. The protests continued, with chaos remaining mostly under control, which soothed your anxiety just a little as you worried about the children. 
Wherever Negan and Carol were, you hoped they were getting the information they needed to intercept Hornsby and his men and get Daryl, Aaron, and the others back home. Meanwhile, you just had to stay vigilant, hoping no more goons showed up at your door to question you. 
At least you got to stay home, keeping watch at the living room window, and trying not to worry too much about the increasing strength and decreasing intervals of your contractions. 
Dog sat curled up on the couch, keeping an eye on you, as if Daryl had instructed the canine to keep you safe, too. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had. “What are you looking at?” you asked him. “I’m fine.”
You weren’t fine.
Not long after that, you felt a much larger contraction, one that had you completely doubled over as you dropped your binoculars on the hardwood floor. “Oh, God!” you cried out, now kneeling on the floor, already tearing up from the pain. Your hand reached out to grab the edge of the couch as Dog jumped up to stand by your side, his nose nudging you repeatedly. The canine began to whine loudly, and soon Robin was hurriedly approaching, eyes wide and voice full of panic. “Mommy?” she asked. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”
“I…” You shook your head vehemently, your speech gone for a moment as you tried to process the pain. “The baby’s coming… The baby’s… definitely, definitely coming.”
The child froze, unsure of what to do. After all, what was she supposed to do? She had no idea how to help you, but she knew about the emergency bag by the door, the one Daryl constantly was adding things to. She scurried across the room to pick up the bag and bring it to you. 
“What do I need to do?” she asked frantically. 
“H-help me up,” you said, holding out your hand. You felt horrible, having to ask little Robin to help you up, but there wasn’t any other way you could get up, and you needed to get to the hospital. She did what she could, though she was too weak to help you up completely. 
Once you stood on your feet, you took the bag from her, and shakily crossed the room to sling your purse over your shoulder. “Come on,” you said breathlessly, realizing you had no choice but to take Robin with you. There was no way you were about to leave her alone. “We’re going to the hospital.”
It was at this moment you desperately wished you still owned a car. You hadn’t driven one in so long you wondered if you even remembered how to drive in the first place, but that didn’t matter—all you could do was walk. 
One hand holding your bag, the other holding Robin’s hand, the two of you walked quickly through the protesters, trying to tune out their shouting as you walked. 
You were fortunate that the hospital wasn’t too far away, but when the sound of a man’s voice over a megaphone sounded, you stopped in your tracks, keeping Robin close.
“A swarm has been detected five miles out!” he said. “Lockdown has been instituted by order of Governor Pamela Milton. Return to your homes immediately.”
The chanting began to die down, but the citizens still bickered in confusion. “After curfew, anyone found on the streets will be arrested for their own safety.”
He continued speaking, repeating his message, and mentioning something about “the brave Commonwealth Army.” You didn’t care to listen, as you had no other choice but to keep walking in the opposite direction of your home. You came here with the intention of having your baby at a hospital, and that’s what you were going to do.
Robin held your hand tighter as you moved faster, the contractions getting stronger and longer with each passing moment. “Come on, baby,” you said, not wanting to lose her in the chaos. “We’re almost there.”
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“I don’t know… but we need to keep moving.” You tightened your grip and kept her closer as people began to move faster, anxiously returning to their homes. Soon you were swarmed, people everywhere you looked, pushing and shoving as a stampede began to form. “Stay close to me,” you said to Robin, pulling her against your leg. “Stay—”
Another intense, sharp contraction had you doubled over, stopping momentarily as you lost feeling in your legs. You felt the wetness of your water breaking, dripping down your legs underneath your maternity dress. If you had any lingering, hopeful doubts that this was actually labor, they were gone now. 
The immense, terrible pain of your contraction forced you to let go of Robin’s hand as you fell to your knees on the concrete sidewalk, with dozens upon dozens of people trampling over each other, and over you, too. You quickly realized you no longer held your child’s hand, and you turned your head frantically to look for her—she was nowhere to be seen. 
“Robin!” you cried out, tears flooding your voice as it cracked in desperation. “Oh, God! Robin!” 
You tried to stand, but several people had pushed you back down as they stumbled over you in the stampede, of which you were in the middle. Another contraction had you screaming in agony, holding your stomach as you wept, crying out Robin’s name in the ensuing chaos. 
“Help!” you finally yelled, no longer able to pretend you could do this alone. “Please! Help me!” It was humiliating, and you felt so weak, but at the same time, what else were you supposed to do?
For a moment, your eyesight became hazy, and your head swayed back and forth deliriously until you began to fall over completely, but when a hand cupped underneath your arm, lifting you up, you came to.
“(Y/N),” huffed Ezekiel. “You all right?”
You shook your head as you tried to make out his face, and when you tried to break free from his grasp, he held you tighter by your arms. “Robin!” you said. “Robin, I can’t find Robin! She was holding my hand, and then…” 
Ezekiel noticed the water around your feet, and the stain on your dress. “Your water broke?” he asked, and you could only nod, sobbing as you looked around for Robin. 
Soon, you felt another hand on your shoulder—it was Connie, with Kelly by her side, and thank God they were there. Ezekiel’s mind moved at the speed of light as he thought of what to do in the chaos of the moment. “You two get her to the hospital,” he said, making sure Connie read his lips. He turned back to you, making sure you were paying attention to him. “I’m going to find Robin,” he said. “Get to the hospital.”
In your panic, you could only nod and wipe your face of your tears, as Connie and Kelly held your arms and helped direct you towards the hospital, clearing the way through the crowd. 
You couldn’t say you were completely conscious, because at times you felt like you had passed out from the pain and the worry and the fear, but your friends kept you stabilized, until the pristine whiteness of the hospital flooded your vision, and soon you felt yourself become horizontal, on a hospital bed, you presumed, if your mind was in any state to make presumptions.
The rest was a blur, a cocktail of profound agony and confusion. Outside, you swore you heard screaming, and something akin to canisters being dropped, but maybe that was your imagination. In any case, at some point you’d passed out, but not before hearing one last thing. It was very faint, fragile, blurred by the heavy beating of your heart.
It was the sound of a baby crying.
~
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furretsden · 11 months
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Hello hello! Need any help? You've come to the right place! 🌾
Otherkin, otherhearted, therians, fictives, fictionkin, conceptkin, constelic, comfort characters and others are all welcome here!
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I'm Furret otherhearted! You can call me Furret and I go by any pronouns! I'm an adult, but I'll take requests from anyone, just take note of it!
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Thank you for reading! Have some treats! 🥞🍪🥧
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hcllsraiscd · 5 days
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@dancingdevildemon asked: 🌷 FROM ariel for my mytery man
starter call || open
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THE ANGEL SITS cross-legged, four wings tucked away against her back yet fluttering every once in a while. it's an unconscious movement that simply happens when she's concentrating�� in this instance, her focus is honed in on treating and patching up the wound left on this stranger. though she doesn't know his name, and though it may not suit an angel to aid hell's residents (well, she thinks he might be one of hell's, anyway), ariel isn't really one to turn a blind eye to those in need. kindness isn't her virtue (parisa has her beat in that department), but even the embodiment of chastity has a need to help others.
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❝THAT SHOULD DO it, for now.❞ sitting back slightly, she gives the bandages one last gentle tug to make sure they're snug in place, then turns her gaze to the mystery man before her. ❝i won't ask how you got yourself hurt like this. but i do know a fellow fighter when i see one. however, i must insist that you do take care of injuries like this in the future. people around here may not care, but i personally cannot bear to see others needlessly in pain. so i do hope this helps, even if it's just basic cloth to keep it covered.❞ she gestures to her skirt, now ripped and torn at its hem to provide said cloth as makeshift bandages.
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commandsfear · 2 years
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commandsvictory spoke: "i hope this part of the plan goes better than the last."
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Anakin's eyes narrowed in on his padawan, "The plan has been going just fine, Snips."
It was, in fact, a blatant lie. With recklessness, Anakin had managed to get himself and Ahsoka trapped behind enemy lines, separated from the rest of the 501st after he had managed to get his legion separated from the 212th battalion and Obi-Wan.
Which was all part of his plan, naturally. But that original plan, involved the 501st flanking around to attack the droid from behind. It did not involve them getting caught in a bottleneck trap that Anakin should have anticipated-- had anticipated, but had underestimated. In order to draw fire away from the 501st, to save his men, Anakin had made himself bait, ordering them to press the flank.
"And," he snapped, "I ordered you not to follow me." Apparently, she thought he backup or a babysitter or... Or she was following her Master, as he would have done if Obi-Wan had told him the same thing. He really was a terrible example; they should have let Obi-Wan train her. Truthfully, he could still be wrong about why she followed him.
Anakin looked up the edge of the droid factory that was causing their woes. He could work with this. The 501st would press the flank as planned, cutting off the droids from reinforcements, but Anakin could take out the factory, effectively ending the siege far ahead of schedule. Nothing he hadn't done before.
He smirked at Ahsoka, attempting to ease the tension of his earlier anger, "Lucky for you, your Master always has a plan. Which is to blow the droid factory, so if you want to stay here and stand guard, I understand."
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distortedbeat · 1 year
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5. Have you read/watched/played anything new thanks to the rpc this year?
Yes, actually! Earlier this year, friends that I made from the rpc got me into playing Makoyaku/Promise of the Wizard, though it has been a few months since I last played it. Those same friends also recently got me into playing Path to Nowhere, which I am currently OBSESSED with.
7. Talk about one of your favorite threads that started this year.
To be honest, I haven't done a whole lot of threads this year. It's mostly been a year of recovery from some relationship trauma with a fellow tumblr user I went through around this time last year, and it's only since I made this blog that I've felt comfortable enough to return. But I can say that I'm excited for all the threads I've started so far! Maybe if I had to choose one that has a lot of my interest right now, I'd say Jirou and Midoriya having a heart to heart and moment of vulnerability with @roguesenses has a lot of my love right now. I'm always here for any of these kids processing the shit they've been through.
16. Wildcard: talk about anything that you want to that happened this year!
Honestly? For all that aforementioned shit I've had to try and work through this year, I'm just blessed to have my friends around. I've even gotten to reconnect with a few-- namely @invisiquirk, my dear friend of, what, 5 years? 6? I don't know at this point, but Cinder coming back around was such a blessing this year. I love you, bitch. I'm coming back down to visit again, mark my words :knife:
@detonizing // End of year asks: RPC Edition!
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ladyniniane · 6 months
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FE OC WEEK DAY 2: Relationships
Let's discuss Maeve's relationship with Dedue and her bonds with her sister Enid and her friends Gladys, Vigdis and Amalia (yeah, more OCs)! If you've missed her introduction, you can read it here.
English isn't my first language, I hope there aren't too many errors!
@fe-oc-week
❧Dedue Molinaro - Blossoming love
Maeve first meets Dedue at Garreg Mach’s greenhouse after the battle of Gronder. She’s immediately intrigued by the beautiful flowers and decides to approach him. Maeve congratulates him. Dedue is guarded at first, especially since Maeve has the manners of a noblewoman and her lack of hostility surprises him. They nonetheless have a civil discussion.
Read their first meeting here and some scenes with them.
Maeve later sings for him and Annette around tea and some cakes that Dedue had baked. She meets him again in the greenhouse before the departure for Fhirdiad. As Maeve is nervous, Dedue offers her to tend to the flowers with him. She accepts and he gives her some petals that she promises to keep preciously.
On the road, Dedue gets wounded and Maeve visits him, soothing him after a nightmare of the Tragedy. He then asks her why she isn’t hostile towards him and warns her that being seen with him could have unpleasant consequences. Maeve answers that it is because she knows what is right and what is wrong and that she would like to keep spending time with him if he allows it.
After the capital is retaken, he takes the time to bring her some food and comfort her. They hug, relieved to be both alive. Dedue then tells Maeve how he saved Dimitri’s life and about his life after the Tragedy. The pair finds solace in eachother’s company.
During their stay in the capital, they garden together and exchange intimate secrets. Dedue tells her about the death of his family, especially of his little sister Nérine, and Maeve reveals that she is the daughter of an imperial noble.
On the way to Derdriu, they spend some time together. Dedue realizes that meeting Maeve made him desire new things. Just as when he understood that he was happy to be alive and to see the flowers in the greenhouse. He no longer wants to be just a sword and shield. As he voices his doubts, Maeve gives him words of encouragement and encourages him to seek balance. To thank her, he puts flowers in her hair and she does the same for him.
Once in Derdriu, Claude throws a party to celebrate the victory. Maeve attends with her friend and manages to steal some time alone with Dedue. A rude man insults Maeve for associating with a man of Duscur. They both drive him, but once they are alone in the garden, Dedue is upset that Maeve had to go through this. She then confesses her feelings for him. Taken aback at first, he then tells her that he loves her and promises to always take good care of her.
❧ Enid Fresnay - The lost sister 
Enid is Maeve’s adoptive sister. She’s 31 during the story. A member of a rebel group in the Empire, she’s investigating Those Who Slither in the Dark and is determined to bring them down. On the surface, Enid a is proud, cynical and merciless warrior. Deep down, he’s a very vulnerable and damaged woman, battling with trauma, guilt and suicidal thoughts. Enid is also generous and caring and protects others with a chivalrous determination. 
She's an orphan that Maeve’s aunt, Nemain, found in Enbarr. Enid taught Maeve how to use a knife and defend herself and Maeve taught her to sing. A shadow was looming over Enid and Maeve didn’t know what it was until her sister disappeared without a warning.
Maeve had never been able to mourn Enid properly and always wondered where she was, feeling a mix of anger, sadness and a desire to know the truth. The two sisters are ultimately reunited in Fhirdiad. Seeing Maeve during an official ceremony, Enid decides to take responsibility for her actions.
The two sisters meet and Enid reveals her secret: she was subjected to Agarthan experiments as a child and now bears a crest. She has furthermore stopped aging and now looks barely older than Maeve. She thus can't bear the thought of seeing everyone grow old and die while saying the same.
She explains that she left because she needed answers regarding what happened to her and wanted to hunt down TWSITD. She also explains that she thought that Maeve had died when their house was attacked by Cornelia’s troops and felt tremendous guilt for not being there.
Understanding what happened, Maeve forgives her sister. Enid admires the person that her sister has become and promises to not let her down again. 
Read the reunion between the two sisters here!
❧ Vigdis Auber - artist and swordswoman
A swordswoman serving house Eilyn, Vigdis is one of Maeve’s close friends. Vigdis is 23 and has a regal and icy exterior. She was a dancer before the war but became a soldier, feeling that this was her true path. A sensitive woman deep down, she likes to sew and embroider and is in awe of the beauty of nature. She’s caring and loyal towards those she loves and likes teasing them.
Vigdis’ way to show her affection is to embroider things for people. She thus made Maeve's pouch. Since Vigdis traveled extensively in Fodlan and the Alliance, she likes telling Maeve about her adventures. Vigdis once danced while Maeve sang and gave her dancing lessons. She also recommends books to her friends.
Vigdis saved Maeve’s life at the beginning when she still wasn’t used to military life. Maeve admires the fact that Vigdis is always calm and composed. She doesn’t understand that Vigdis bottles everything up and suffers from this. After saving Vigdis’ life during the battle of Fhirdiad, Maeve realizes that her friend’s way of dealing with her emotions isn’t exactly better and that they are both strong in their own way.
❧ Gladys Rusla Eilyn - the ambitious lady
At 23 years old, Gladys is the current head of house Eilyn. Warm, cheerful and friendly, Gladys knows how to put people at ease. Bold, ambitious and cunning, she has many reform ideas and is determined to improve her people’s well-being. A skilled horsewoman and archer, she likes to spend time outside. She was the illegitimate daughter of the previous lord but managed to get herself legitimized. 
Gladys took Maeve in while she was a refugee. Maeve was surprised because Gladys didn’t fit the idea she had of a noblewoman. Having spent fifteen years of her life among the commoners, Gladys’ manners were closer to that of a soldier. She thus observed Maeve and learned from her. 
Gladys likes to listen to Maeve’s music and often plays board games with her. Though Gladys is a better tactician, Maeve managed to learn and improve. Maeve also helps Gladys prepare for important occasions, styling her hair and advising her on her choice of clothing. Overall, Gladys feels extremely protective of Maeve and cares for her.
❧ Amalia Sváfa Eilyn - the warrior mother
Amalia is Gladys’ mother. A commoner, she had an affair in her youth with Gladys’ father. She left, thinking she wasn’t good enough for him. Amalia then worked as a military cook. When Gladys went to her father’s home, she followed her. 
An unassuming woman in her youth, Amalia has turned into a fierce protector and warrior. She’s always by Gladys’ side on the battlefield. She’s a mentor and a confidant for all the young women of the group and Maeve is no exception. She likes spending time with Amalia as she makes her feel safe. Amalia recognizes Maeve’s qualities and sees herself in her. 
When Amalia cooks for the group, Maeve is always there to eat her honey cakes. 
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nikikyuuun · 2 years
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HI BEE jumps and opens arms for hug
if this perhaps strikes your fancy, could I ask for nazuna being in a secret relationship with a reader who he's been close to for a long time? [i hope this is not too specific ,, ]
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hi qian!!!!! (catches u) this More than strikes my fancy (+ its not too specific at all dw !!!) i feel like u know all my weaknesses HFBJFHFJFB .... here is ur food i hope u enjoy 🤲
❧ being in a secret relationship with nazuna
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❧ honestly, the idea of a secret relationship doesn't bother nazuna much at all. whether it's out of consideration to his status as an idol, due to your own personal circumstances — maybe you have a job in the public sphere too, or your family disapproves of the idea of you being in a relationship — or maybe, you two were trapped in the odd circumstance of "we don't know how to break it to people that we're dating, so it's basically a secret," nazuna understands a hundred percent. promise! he'll always insist that it's your safety that matters to him most — he can forego some pda if it means you'll be spared from creepy fans or nagging relatives.
❧ speaking of pda, nazuna tries to keep it on the down-low in general. he'll hold your hand or link your little fingers together in public, and if anyone asks? he'll hem and haw, his hand still all but glued to yours, and settle on some variation of, "well, i was leading them somewhere so i wanted to make sure they were following!" or, "it's really crowded outside today, and i didn't want them to get lost." it works a fair amount of the time! usually.
❧ but while it often sates questions for the moment, it doesn't quite explain the lovestruck way he looks at you, or the way he subconsciously rubs his thumb over your knuckles... sometimes nazuna may have to brush aside questions like these from interviewers, or talk show hosts, or journalists, and each time his answer is the same: "we're just really good friends! we've known each other for basically forever." but even with this flimsy wall of "we're just friends," it still takes a fair amount of willpower to stop himself from gushing about you on camera. he just can't help himself! he thinks about you all the time a lot, and those thoughts need somewhere to go, especially if you're not around.
❧ due to the, well, more secretive nature of your relationship, a lot of your dates are more lowkey, too. maybe he'll take you to a cafe he thinks you'll like, or maybe you'll go see a movie together, or you'll take an evening walk at the park — what a nice coincidence that there's a fireworks show today, right? of course, nothing beats just being together in the comfort of your own homes, where you can throw away all pretenses of professionalism and just enjoy each other's company.
❧ it's this time together that nazuna enjoys the most, too — days where he can hide under the blankets with you and a nice, warm drink, where he doesn't need any excuses to hold your hand or rest his head on your shoulder.
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