#><strong>Wolf</strong></span></a> is

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf (I)

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,305

CW: angst? depression, religious imagery, not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | prologue | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

Winterfell was a truly beautiful place, it spanned acres of land, and at its centre stood the gods woods. The gods woods were truly the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. You were lucky that your rooms, in a tower touching the clouds, faced out onto the woods. Allowing the view to be one you woke up to day and night.

Though it was the only view you saw, as you rarely left your rooms, rarely ate, and said even fewer words and grew a cold exterior.

You at first were visited often by both Creagan and Sara. Though the visits and constant nickering had caused an outburst from you, anger you had never once felt or shown spilling through. You had demanded space. And Cregan had listened, Sara had not.

Sara tried everything in you to leave your room, but her attempts feel on deaf ears

Until today.

You often stood watching out of your window, though it had the spectacular view of looking out onto the gods woods, you could rarely see anyone between the endless trees.

That was until you saw him.

He stood kneeled before the heart tree, deep in thought and prayer. He seemed so peaceful, as if the woods were the one place he could find the peace and quiet he deserved.

A smile graced your face as a memory brushed your mind.

You had been at Winterfell less than a week before you had the chance to see the gods’ woods. Cregan had taken you there himself, he seemed like an egar puppy when you had asked to see it, standing up from his seat and instantly taking your hand, nearly running down the halls as you made your way to the entrance.

A calming breeze had hit your face as you entered the woods, the feeling of the hot springs between your feet, instantly warming your whole body. The woods were covered in a soft layer of snow, the floor almost entirely untouched as it seemed the only footsteps were that of your own and Cregan’s.

You walked for a time, walking through thick layers of untouched trees, before you finally reached the centre, and the heart tree stood in all its glory.

With red trees and white bark, it allowed the faces carved so naturally in it to appear so clearly, they seemed to watch your every move, and as Cregan knelt before the trees, you swear you saw there faces move and there mouths moving to answer whatever prays Cregan was saying.

It was a funny feeling, never before had you felt the presence of the gods, never in the sept or before a septon. But here, in a natural place, land untouched and no alters erected to honour said gods, you felt them. A calming presence but also the fear of complete superiority over you. They seemed to welcome you, enough so that you yourself moved forward and knelt before the tree. You did not pray as you felt no need to, and the gods did not demand it of you, they simply welcomed you and made you feel there warmth. You closed your eyes beside Cregan, basking in there presence, and when you opened your eyes, you came face to face with a smiling Cregan.

“It is beautiful is it not?” he asked

“Spectacular” you replied, “ I have never felt or seen anything like this…the gods woods at the red keep is a mockery to this”

He smiled softly “it is an experience that is hard to explain, is it not?”

You nodded, moving to stand, “do you spend much time here?”

“as much time as I can with my duties”

You nodded, “a shame, I feel as if I never want to leave”

He laughed softly “then perhaps you shouldn’t”

Looking back on it apart of you is glad the rest of your life will be spent here, with the gods woods as you view, and had the circumstances been better you were sure you would love Cregan by now, be happily married even.

Instead you haunted the halls, depressed and yet to marry. Speaking little to no words, eating little, and spending your days writing endless letters to your only surviving brother Aegon, and you sisters Baela and Rhaena. You missed them so dearly and yet you could not bare the thought of seeing them.

It had been months, they had moved on, there letters expressing happy lives, contenting in the life they now had. And you, you had simply stopped time and lived in and endless loop.

You dressed quickly and stormed out of your rooms. You didn’t know where you were going, but it seemed your feet had made up their mind as before you knew it you were striding into the gods woods, startling Cregan from his thoughts.

He said you name Softley, moving to stand “you’re here?” he asked in a question, as if he couldn’t believe it.

“i-“ you started, through your mind when blank, a trait not new to you, but this time you seemed scared to speak, the last time you had truly spoken your mind, was when you watched your mother burn and that only ended in screams. You did not speak one word for moons after that and only after did you speak sweet lies, painting the yourself to be the picture of love and loyalty, and now all you wanted was to speak the truth, to say the words breaking you from the inside out, and yet all you could say was “I’m sorry”.

“what?” he asked softly, “what are you sorry for?”

“for months I have ignored your and Saras efforts to help me, taking your kindness for granted and giving you nothing in return-“

“its okay” he interrupted kindly, “I only wanted to help you, I never expected anything in return”

“except to marry me” you replied, it was the truth, a clear point in the alliance struck between the north and your mother.

“I am in no rush to marry” he moved towards you, “you have been- we have been through so much, I am sure the lords of the north will understand waiting however long you need”

But that wasn’t the case, you both knew it. In fact just the other day Sara, in one of her efforts to annoy into speaking, had stated how the lords were in uproar of your lack of a union, House Bolton at the for front of the complaints.

Once you longed for the days you and he would marry, though things between you then had turned sweet and shy, you craved the days he would marry you.

The first time you saw him you were in awe of him. He towered over you, his face cold and blank, but his eyes held a warmth to them. He welcomed you formally, though it lacked warmth. You both knew why you were there and yet all you could do was stare at him. Tracing the outline of his face with your eyes. Wondering how his hair might feel between your fingers.

You had smiled shyly at him as he walked you through the halls though neither of you spoke until you reached his solar.

“I have come on the behest of my mother, Queen Rhaenyra of house Targaryen” your proclaimed, stating your mothers name and title proudly.

“queen?” he had hummed.

“yes, King Viserys sadly passed in his sleep” you spoke with sadness lacing your voice, “my mother has requested me to remind you of your of your fathers Oath”

“the north remembers, princess, and there is no Stark who forgets his oath.” He looked at you quizzically then “though I must ask why you have been sent here, has the north caused mistrust with he crown?”

“no, my lord, it is quite the opposite” you had shook you head, “my uncle has usurped the iron throne, naming himself King Aegon II, I have only come to show the north the crown lies with the rightful heir, my mother”

He had nodded, “then I must ask if it is war you ask of us, princess”

“for know all I ask is your loyalty, we do not crave war, but if it comes to it we ask for the north support” you had remembered then that your mother had given you a script, she knew of your nerves, how you often stuttered, something that had never happened with Cregan, despite it being common even when you were only surrounded by family.

“you have my loyalty, but o shall need terms if it is war that is to come” you had nodded, kindly, agreeing.

Politics had never been an interest of yours, and yet the hours on hours you had spent talking treaties and alliances, not once did you wish to leave, in fact it seemed both of you had dragged it on for as long as you could, neither wanting to leave the others company.

You had accompanied each others every meal, even if no words were spoken, and only kind looks exchanged.

You had felt the warmth and welcoming feeling you lacked at first, and you had hoped that after your return to Dragonstone and the declaration of your betrothal with Cregan, the feeling would stay.

And despite a part of you wanting to feel cold and alone in the north, you had not once felt that way, and as Cregan looked at you now you realised that Winterfell had felt like home ever since you had first arrived, and the only coldness you raved was the one you felt in your heart, the one that you feared Cregan would melt.

 “that’s not true” you sad softly, replying to his statement on the lords agreeing with his decision to wait to marry. “it will be near to a year since my arrival soon enough, my brother even writes that we soon must wed” you moved towards him now, you bodies now only a breath away from each other “I…as much as I miss them, I must move on with life and we must marry” you spoke it sternly, why the realisation of you sisters being happy and content made you want to move on was unclear, you knew you would never stop mourning them, but you didn’t want to mourn what could have been with Cregan.

You had liked him so much at first, always blushing in his presence, even more so once Jace had noticed and pushed the two of you together, though you had both used him as a shield to your fancy of the other, making things turn even shyer between the two of you.

You had been happy with he match, and so had he, with shy smiles and longing in your gazes as the news was announced.

You wanted to marry him, not just for duty, and not just to sate your old self, but as Cregan smiled at you, gaze deep with care, you realised that perhaps the only happiness you would find would be with him.

He nodded, “sara spoke to you?” you nodded “ah, very well, but only if you are sure.

You smiled, reaching for his hand, “I need to marry you Cregan, it is my duty” you saw a slight drop in his smile at the word duty, so you continued, “as well as my desire”, his gaze grew heated, a heat you were a stranger too.

“very well, I will not deny my own…desire to marry you, princess, I have long admired you” he coughed awkwardly “it was me who asked your mother for your hand, after all”

You gasped slightly, “really? I had no idea.”

He laughed softly, “Of course, I had hoped my intentions were clear during our stay at Winterfell, I never left you alone”

“I never would have thought-“

“you have encompassed my every thought since I first laid eyes on you” he caressed your hand in his as his tone turned serious, “seeing you in pain these past months, has caused me agony, I am glad you wish to wed me soon, and I can only hope this is the start to the end of your tournament”

“I believe that marrying you is the only way I will be able to end it” you confided in him.

You had had nightmares non stop, your memories on repeat. Fire and blood, your house words and yet they were the very thing that brought you torment. The faces of your brothers, Jace and Luke lying dead at the bottom of the sea. Of Joffrey being torn to shreds, your mother burning. And of Viserys, sweet Viserys she dreamt of him to be alive, only to return home in anger at being abandoned by her and Aegon. The thought had filled her with dread. And fear for Aegon had the same dreams, and dreams like those were said to come true in your family. Your torment was of what had already happened, and the knowledge you could never change it, so the sudden need to pull yourself from the endless misery all from Cregan kneeling before the hearts tree confused you apart of you wondered if Cregan had been praying for your happiness for you torment to find a release, and the gods had answered.

You hoped they had, for you had no nightmares, only dreamless sleep after the day in the gods woods.

You had started to dine with Cregan for dinner, and Sara to break your fast.

Though your rooms were still the place you stuck to, Cregan’s and Saras demands for you to leave your chambers were answered, with walks and hours spent in the library or gods woods.

All as going well for you, until a letter from Aegon came.

Viserys was alive.

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

since i started looking more into mating rituals and parenting styles of crows (for very normal reasons i swear), i've begun to find the "Crowley is a dead-beat dad" joke a bit ironic, as most of the websites i've seen said that crows are actually very involved in their chicks lives while they're still in the nest. one website even considered crows "one of the best parents in the animal kingdom"

I’ve researched bird mating myself (not for TWST reasons, but because I have to care for a Real Bird), though not for crows specifically. Very interesting (and ironic)!

I wonder just how much “truth” there is behind that irl crow stuff and TWST lore 🤔 Because we have some clear instances of the real life animal reflecting TWST fantasy races’ behaviors! For example, Jack states that wolf beastmen are monogamous (they mate for life and stick to that one partner), which is true of actual wolves too. Ruggie’s mother died giving birth to him, an occurrence which is not uncommon among female hyenas. The shape of the… uh… birth canal… is often too small and has a sharp turn, so giving birth is traumatic/can lead to complications so severe it literally kills the mom. Hyenas are also not monogamous, which may partially be why there is lore about Ruggie’s father leaving and never returning. There’s also non-mating behaviors which are reflective of irl animals, such as women from the Sunset Savanna being “strong” (since lionesses do most of the hunting), Azul having a strong grip (like that of an octopus), or Sebek’s family having scales and a strong bite (like crocodiles). I would say irl animals being used as part of character references is fairly common.

However! There are also examples of TWST’s fantasy races not exactly aligning with irl animals and their behaviors. When Leona talks about his brother and his wife, he refers to the wife singular, not wive(s). Irl lions have prides and mate with various partners over the span of their life. It’s rare for lizards (the closest thing to dragons, lol) to be monogamous, yet Maleanor seemed very loyal to her husband Raverne and is even described to dote on him. We also don’t know much about the twins’ or Azul’s families’ behaviors, so there isn’t much to compare there.

So really, I wonder where Crowley lies on this spectrum of “animal realism” 😂 Based on solely his current attitude, yeah… He ain’t much of a “Parent of the Year” www

[divijohm]

Headcanons for Toby, Jeff, Nina and slendy with a reader that lovesss animals? (and is good with them) :D like every time they return from a mission, reader has brought back a puppy or kitty? (bonus points if once she accidentally brought a wolf in the house mistaking it for a dog)

Pastas with a s/o that's good with animals!

Toby, Jeff, Nina and Slenderman

A/n: I LOVE ANIMALS! ALL ARE SUPER CUTE but sadly I'm not very good with them lolol I have a cat and a dog though they're my babyss hope you enjoy!

Slenderman

🐾 He does not get along well with animals, at all. He scares most them away just by standing there, problems of being a eldritch horror but once one warms up to him he actually is very gentle with them.

🐾 finds it cute and fascinating how well you can interact with the lil fellas, might even find a way to you to use them in missions. Not a fan of you bringing them to the mansion though, most pastas aren't a fan and may be allergic, and he does not enjoy when animals/wildlife are being mistreated so for everyone's sake, he'll ask you not to.

🐾 If you manage to convince him to have a pet, other than smile dog that is, he would like a cat, probably a black or tuxedo one, because it would be easier to hide the fur that will be all over his clothes

🐾 He's a tidy man, animals that make much mess are not his type, he also don't like the high maintenance ones (i.e hamsters) heck he barely takes care of his proxies, leaving most of them to survive on their own only giving the best ones a somewhat stable life. A high maintenance thing that's not even useful?? Hell no

🐾 Overall, he likes animals but he does not like to take care of them nor have them in his house, he doesn't need more little, bratty, short life-span beings to take care of, he already has the proxys

Toby

🐾 Adores animals as long as they're far away from him, he's scared of most of them at first but find them cute

🐾 Have a strong cat allergy poor thing can't be near one without a mask or he'll start sneezing

🐾 Will help you take care of them despite his fear and allergies, mostly by being on your side handing you stuff but he'll hold the animal still if you need to apply a vaccine or something

🐾 Sometimes his tics will be saying an animal name, because he's spending so much time listening to you talk about them, you find it cute

🐾 He's besties with the mansion permanent pets and will let them stay in his room if needed

Nina

🐾 BIG ANIMAL FAN, especially big ones

🐾 WILL pamper all the pets you bring home, to a point where you have to hide the treats from her otherwise she'll give them nonstop

🐾 Begs Slenderman to let you make a zoo with all the pets, he refuses of course but lets her keep a parrot

🐾 She named the parrot Willy, is a blue one and he's very talkative (much like his owner) surprisingly he can roam free and don't run away/get lost.

🐾Willy will attack on command, Nina did not teach him how to do that but one day she said to another proxy "I'll make willy take your eyes out!" And the birb was near and he just attacked going for the eyes. A moment of laughter and panic later, Willy was safe and the poor victim just had his eyelids slightly clawed, nothing major but Slenderman made Nina promise that she would never command willy to attack a proxy to a degree that can compromise their performance. So now she just makes him poop on people's foods and/or in them

Jeff

🐾 He only likes dogs, not much of a fan of any other species, he will tolerate birds and most of the wild life thought

🐾 He's afraid of cats, whenever you bring one to the house he'll try to act cool but the slightest movement towards him will make him flinch

🐾 Will act uninterested when you bring a dog but the moment you turn your back he WILL gush over them specially if they get along with Smiley

🐾 Fights everyone who criticizes your actions, because "at least animals are better than humans" bedsides you do all the work to care for them and keep the mansion permanent pets safe if they don't get along with the strays

🐾 will complain if you spend more time with the pets than with him, and will throw a tantrum if you tell him to wait because you have to take care of the lil ones before giving him attention

[e-vay]

The Shadora Horde - 2023!

Here are all the ShadowXAurora kids I've made (so far hahaha!). As I always mention, I'm always open to Shadora fankids that you guys make. I can never have too many Shadora babies. I made changes to the original 5 so they're now closer in age and I also balanced out their powers more. Some of them were a little OP originally but I think I've fixed it. I have super detailed descriptions of each character below the cut!

PIPER

Birthday: 11/12 (1st Born)

Age: 16

Role: Leader

Powers: Combustion, Weapon Summoning

Weaknesses: Disorder

Dream Voice Actor: Brittany Snow

Theme Song: “Smile” - Wolf Alice

Piper is the first born in the first litter of Aurora and Shadow and is the natural leader of the group. She is generally sweet and respectful but is very proud of her pedigree so can be a little judgemental at times. She is a perfectionist to a fault and will become easily aggravated if things don’t go her way. Though she can be cocky, she is overall a caring and loving person and is quick to help those in need. Piper has naturally wild bangs and a large patch of fluffy fur on her chest. These traits drive her crazy! She always has her bangs pinned down to the side and her chest fur covered up. In her teen years she takes up motorcycle riding and it helps loosen her up and embrace her more wild side. 

Piper is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Blast and Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Piper has combustion powers. Piper can incinerate objects with a snap of her fingers. She has excellent mastery and precision of this skill. She was given the task to train Cinder to control his combustion powers, but the two tend to get frustrated with each other since control comes so naturally to Piper and it’s incredibly foreign to Cinder.

Piper is naturally drawn to Amy’s hammer wielding abilities and grows up admiring it. Though she isn’t allowed to use the Piko Piko Hammer, Amy trains her in good hammer-form with the use of props. IF Mammy Amy ever decides to retire, she will bequeath her hammer to Piper. The hammer’s design will change based on Piper’s personality.

-

ZANE

Birthday: 11/12 (2nd Born)

Age: 16

Powers: Super Speed

Weaknesses: Arachnophobia 

Dream Voice Actor: Robert Buckley

Theme Song: “We Are Young” - 3OH!3

Zane is the second born in the first litter of Aurora and Shadow. Zane is a daredevil and an extreme extrovert. He is most like his Pawpaw Sonic with his quick wit and high energy. He does not like emotional confrontations and will go out of his way to avoid uncomfortable situations. Even though he’s mostly easygoing, he butts heads with his dad a lot. 

Zane is a huge flirt and frequently develops intense crushes on people, but due to his short attention span, he’ll move on quickly (think Romeo with Rosaline). Zane is very fond of children and enjoys being the center of attention. Even though Piper is the leader of the group, the younger siblings tend to follow whatever Zane is doing. Lucky for Piper, he mostly listens to what she says.

Zane is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Zane has super speed. He wears special shoes that can transform based on his needs, but he prefers the motocross boot style when he’s not running.

For hobbies, Zane likes to do extreme stunts and attend/throw parties. He has dreams of being a DJ with his brother Nova. 

-

NOVA

Birthday: 11/12 (3rd Born)

Age: 16

Powers: Plasma (Ionikinetic Combat)

Weaknesses: Laziness

Dream Voice Actor: Josh Keaton

Theme Song: “Weirdo” - K.Flay

Nova is the third born in the first litter of Aurora and Shadow. He is very peaceful in nature and would rather find roundabout ways to solve problems than coming to blows (though he attributes this to knowing he would cream his opponent due to this strong bloodline). He’s a bit of an oddball but he embraces his quirkiness instead of being concerned about how others think of him. He often comes off as aloof and is rather lazy.

Nova is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Nova has plasma/Ionikenetic powers. He can shoot radioactive plasma at his enemies which can burn or dissolve material on impact. Nova does not like using his powers because they are so destructive. 

Nova is very close with his brother Zane and will go along with his schemes, even if his heart’s not entirely in it. He is artistic and tends to live a very messy, disheveled lifestyle. He loves to collect things and can be considered a packrat. 

-

ASTER

Birthday: 4/8 (4th born)

Age: 15

Powers: Telekinesis, Telepathy

Weaknesses: Codependency 

Dream Voice Actor: SungWon Cho [x]

Theme Song: “Despair and Traffic” - SOFT PLAY

Aster is the first born in the second litter of Aurora and Shadow. Though he seems rough on the surface, he’s actually the most academically intelligent of all his siblings. He is loud and passive aggressive but can appreciate the beauty in peace and quiet when he chooses. He is very theatrical and enjoys making a huge spectacle out of his battles, including saying poetic catchphrases and even coining the term “Prepare for the Blitz-Aster Disaster!” He is secretly a romantic at heart.

Aster is rarely seen without his sister Blitz. He is the brain to her brawn. Though he’s the more level-headed twin, Blitz’s dominant personality tends to direct their fighting strategies. He does not know how to be independent, which can be used against him.

Aster is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Aster shows early signs of telekinetic and telepathic abilities. He hasn’t mastered many techniques yet, but with some proper training it’s possible he could become a force to be reckoned with. If only Blitz would shut up for 5 minutes so he could concentrate!

Aster enjoys challenging mind games, like chess. 

-

BLITZ

Birthday: 4/8 (5th born)

Age: 15

Powers: Energy Blasts (“Chaos Spear”)

Weaknesses: Codependency, Impulsivity

Dream Voice Actor: Jessica DiCicco [x] [x] OR Chloë Grace Moretz [x]

Theme Song: “God Complex (Mojo)” - poutyface

Blitz is the second born in the second litter of Aurora and Shadow. Blitz is brash and forward but can be a little spacey. She has a short attention span and is easily bored. She considers fighting as a form of playing. She is very proud of herself and her heritage and isn’t afraid to namedrop to get her way. 

Blitz is rarely seen without her brother Aster. She is the brawn to his brain. Blitz’s dominant personality tends to direct their fighting strategies despite her brother’s concerns. She is very theatrical and enjoys making a huge spectacle out of her battles, including saying poetic catchphrases and even coining the term “Prepare for the Blitz-Aster Disaster!” She is very codependent and hates doing anything without Aster.

Blitz is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Blitz has the natural ability to perform Chaos Spear which can dagger her enemies with energy.

Blitz loves fashion and is a huge trendsetter. She would love to be a fashion designer if world domination doesn’t work out (She’s just kidding – relax already!)

-

Cinder

Birthday: 2/18 (6th born)

Age: 14

Powers: Combustion, Stellar Tantrum

Weaknesses: Migraines, Short Temper

Dream Voice Actor: Michael Daingerfield [x] [x]

Theme Song: “Tantrum” - Ashnikko

Cinder is the first born in the third litter of Aurora and Shadow. He has a very short temper and is incredibly impatient. He is the most like his father in that he is not very talkative and would rather be left alone than socialize with others. His outbursts of rage can often be used to his enemies’ advantage by being misdirected to his siblings and teammates. He is also terrified of himself, which makes him constantly on edge. 

Cinder is NOT capable of using Chaos Emeralds and instead has to rely on his natural abilities. Cinder has combustion powers, but unlike his sister Piper, his powers are based solely on his emotions so he has a very hard time commanding the direction and radius of his blasts. Piper was tasked with training Cinder to better manage his combustion powers, but the two tend to get frustrated with each other since control comes so naturally to Piper and it’s incredibly foreign to Cinder. When Cinder goes into a blinding rage, his fur and eyes change color and sparks of energy will fire off randomly around him. When in this form, he can perform a move called “Stellar Tantrum.” This move is highly destructive and will incinerate any and all objects nearby. He has absolutely no control over this power once it’s unleashed.

As a child, Cinder was more outgoing but still prone to crying outbursts. However, during one particular fight with his sister Diamond, he accidentally unleashed a Stellar Tantrum and severely burned her. Luckily Boon was able to use his healing powers to reverse it, but Cinder has never forgiven himself and has never been the same ever since. Cinder requested a special Inhibitor necklace be made to help dampen his powers, but it’s not very effective. It works more as a placebo than anything else. He keeps everyone at a distance whenever possible and thinks there’s something evil in him, despite his parents’ reassurances. 

Cinder doesn’t like to discuss his hobbies, but he actually loves baking and reading books.

-

DIAMOND

Birthday: 2/18 (7th Born)

Age: 14

Role: Tank

Powers: Brute Strength

Weaknesses: Poor eyesight, Light sensitivity

Dream Voice Actor: Kimberly Brooks [x] [x] [x]

Theme Song: “Cleopatra” - Nova Twins

Diamond is the second born in the third litter of Aurora and Shadow. She has a sweet disposition and is very polite, even to her opponents. However, she can be a smart ass at times and is quick to make jokes. She is highly dedicated to physical training but outside of the gym she’s very easy-going. Diamond was born with Oculocutaneous albinism. Due to her albinism and nystagmus, she is sensitive to light and has very poor eyesight. As a baby and toddler, Diamond mostly clung to Aurora whenever outdoors as she could bend the light around Diamond and protect her from UV rays. As Diamond got older and grew more independent, Tails’ Workshop crafted a special brooch that acts as a light shield when activated. Diamond never leaves home without it.

Diamond is NOT capable of using Chaos Emeralds and instead has to rely on her natural abilities. She has incredible strength and is physically the strongest of all her relatives. 

As a child, she and her brother Cinder got into a fight where he accidentally unleashed a Stellar Tantrum and severely burned her. Luckily Boon was able to use his healing powers to reverse it. She has completely forgiven Cinder and has never held it against him, but he continues to be distant with her to this day.

She enjoys training in the Shadora Home Gym to better perfect her fighting skills and she is almost always found sporting earbuds so she can listen to her favorite punk rock and metal bands.

-

Boon

Birthday: 2/18 (8th Born)

Age: 14

Role: Support

Powers: Healing, Mood-Boosting

Weaknesses: People-pleasing

Dream Voice Actor: Ben Schwartz [x] ← Please watch this whole interview, it will leave you grinning ear-to-ear the whole way through

Theme Song: “Smile” - Dami Im

Boon is the third born in the third litter of Aurora and Shadow. Boon is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine and has 10000% charisma. He genuinely loves everyone he meets and enjoys putting smiles on people’s faces. Boon is very silly and has a very childish sense of humor. He also has a lot of energy and has a habit of rambling without realizing it.

Boon is NOT capable of using Chaos Emeralds and instead has to rely on his natural abilities. He has incredible healing abilities and can heal the wounded, but it takes a lot of energy from him so can only do so much at a time. He cannot revive the dead. Boon also has a “mood-boosting” ability, where he can positively affect the emotions of others. This can only be done by making direct contact with someone and the effect only lasts temporarily. Boon’s powers positively affected Aurora’s pregnancy, making her third litter the easiest and stress free of all her pregnancies (Thank you, Boon!)

Boon wears special rocket boots so he can quickly fly to anyone in battle who needs assistance. His boots have a button on the heel to activate them, and he likes to click his heels together to turn them on. Though he never complains about his duties, Aurora often worries about Boon’s need to please others and reminds him that he can’t help others if he doesn’t help himself. Aurora and Boon are the most alike of all her children as both are prone to singing outbursts, goofy jokes and harmless pranks to make people laugh.

—

All Shadora kids are mortal and did not inherit Shadow’s immortality. However, they do heal faster than the average Mobian.

—

Want to get more of a feel for the Shadora kids? I've made a Spotify playlist dedicate to their theme songs, songs that make me think of them, or general music they would listen to. You can listen to it here, but be warned it contains explicit songs.

—

A NOTE ABOUT SHADOW’S “AGE”

Shadow is immortal so therefore he doesn’t age. However it’s been long debated in my Shadora stories whether or not he will give up his immortality to live a normal life with his family. I have him in these drawings as still being immortal, especially because I like the angst and challenges that comes with (ex: how are your rebellious teenagers supposed to respect you when they are seemingly “older” than you?) but I haven’t actually decided when he will decide to be mortal. 

BUT if you ever draw me fanart or write me fanfics and you want to have become mortal at an earlier point in his life I’m totally cool with that! I’m flexible.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

It’s me again :D

I had this thought where pretty told Chris to sit on the bed and close his eyes and then she shows him the new lingerie she bought. Like if she got more than one set and told Chris to wait to touch her because there is more… I think he would either be like sure pretty show me or he would just ask her for a kiss before she goes put on the next set but he holds pretty when she is about to pull back from the kiss and tells her that he can’t wait longer to touch her :((

I think it would be funny for pretty when she just walks around in underwear and a oversized shirt of Chris and a pair of black thighs to tease Chris :)

the mental image this gave me was too good not to write a little drabble for it.... so here it is! it might not be exactly as you had imagined, but i think it's good enough ehehhe

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~1k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · smut · established relationship · oral [M.Rec] · this was barely proof-read please bear with me lol 

minors do not interact.

“Mmm… Yeah. This one’s definitely the prettiest one”.

“Chris”, the pout on your lips made him smile, you just looked so cute. Cute… What a good balance to what you were wearing, a combination that looked nothing short of absolutely delicious to him. “You’ve said that about every single one! That barely helps”.

“Pretty, baby… Look at me. Any set you put on right now will be the prettiest one”, Chris leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs further apart where he sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted you to focus on the movement, he needed you to see the effects your little fashion show had on him.

Earlier, as soon as he’d come out of the shower, without even waiting for him to put anything on, you’d taken a hold of his arm and dragged him to your shared bedroom. Repeating ‘Come, come, come’, finishing with an excited ‘Got something to show you!’

And something to show him you had…

As soon as he had sat down on the bed, you’d asked him to ‘Close your eyes, baby, okay? No peeking!’ and he just giggled and complied. Why wouldn’t he? You sounded just so excited, and he was incredibly weak to your smile, so of course he complied, no questions asked.

Honestly, he’d have to remind you to give him heads-ups for these things, because every time you surprised him with lingerie, he almost fainted with how quickly his insides set on fire. He almost stood up from the bed as soon as he saw you, but he was sure you were just able to see his intentions perfectly in his eyes, which was why you stopped him.

‘Nuh-uh. No touching. I need you to help me decide which one looks best so I can take it with me for our trip this weekend. I just know that if you touch me, I won’t get to show you the other ones’. Chris figured there’d be no harm in humouring you. After all, seeing you try on different garments would be far from a displeasing activity, so he remained seated as you twirled and turned in all sorts of directions so he could see you in every single angle possible.

As usual, Chris underestimated how horny his inner wolf could be–how horny he could be… He should know better by now, but, clearly, he wasn’t thinking with the right head when he agreed to this.

Babydolls… Four of them–each with their matching panties underneath, of course. You’d tried on four different babydolls in the span of twenty minutes, and Chris was honestly close to snapping.

You’d started off strong, with a red set, next came a black one, then a lilac one, and now this one, white. They all had their own distinct shapes and textures, but this last one was the one that looked the most comfortable. With no underwires in the chest area, lacy, pretty much transparent, doing nothing but accentuating all those areas of your body he just wanted to sink his teeth into…

He had reached his limit, and it was more than obvious with the raging hard-on he’d been sporting for what he figured had been probably eighteen minutes. He couldn’t sit still anymore, it was almost like his mind was screaming at him, he just had to openly show you just how aroused he was.

The pout was gone from your lips, it disappeared the moment you focused on his leaking cock resting against his lower abdomen, when your tongue had come out of your mouth to lick your bottom lip. Now he was sure you were close to snapping yourself, it was just clear as day to him in the shift in your scent.

“You look gorgeous in all of them. Take them all, and I promise that if you let me, I’ll fuck you in all of them, on all surfaces of the house”, it was a very serious offer. One that you seemed to be genuinely considering, especially when you started walking towards him, until you stood between his parted legs and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“But it’s extra baggage. We gotta take all the other stuff with us…”

Chris could always trust you to be worried about these things. Of course you’d be worried about your practically weightless babydolls somehow taking enough space that you’d have to sacrifice all the other supplies you were both taking to his house in the woods. As if that could somehow ruin the preparations for the full moon next week…

It honestly made it much worse for him and his will to stay put, because not only did you look finger-licking good in your little outfit, but you were once again showing your commitment to your pack. Both were equally as effective in riling him up.

“Pretty”, Chris brought both hands to your chest to push your breasts together, creating the perfect space for him to bury his face into. He pressed a few kisses on the soft flesh, right before he started mumbling against your skin. “It’ll be fine. Everything will fit just fine. I’d even put these in the car’s glove box, my pockets, anywhere if necessary, as long as I can see you wearing them there”.

His mouth easily found one of your nipples, he teased it with his tongue over the fabric before sucking it into his mouth. It had been almost automatic, when he registered what he was doing he briefly worried he was, as usual, getting carried away.

That worry was very short-lived. One of your hands moved from his shoulder to his head, where you buried your fingers in his hair with a satisfied hum. Meanwhile, his hands found the back of your thighs, so he could gently knead the luscious flesh.

“You want just to see me in them?”

The suggestive lilt in your words made him smile, enough that he let your breast fall out of his mouth so he could smile brightly at you. “Oh, don’t worry, love. I stand by what I said. I’ll fuck you in every single one of them, in ever single room of the house, over every single surface. Multiple times, too. Anything you let me do, and anything you want, I’ll do it”.

You leaned down to finally give him a kiss. He’d been dying to kiss you since you showed him the very first babydoll, but it seemed like you had no plans to let him kiss you as much as he would’ve liked. At least not for now. Instead, you dropped to your knees, right there between his legs, before your hands found his thighs.

Your nails sunk on his skin, and the way you were looking at him, coupled with the almost teasing caresses on his thighs, were bringing him even closer to his snapping point.

Pretty mate… Pretty mate in her pretty gown… Take her. Must take her now…

Chris was trying very hard to ignore his instincts, to keep his logical human side at the forefront of his mind, but it was just so hard when you were looking him right in the eyes, with that look of yours that just made his head spin. It was almost like you knew he was close to his limit, because you finally leaned in further, until your lips found the base of his length, where you pressed a kiss with a hum.

“That doesn’t sound too bad…”

He leaned back on his hands as you kept leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on his skin, until you reached the very tip of his cock and licked the frenulum on the underside. 

As Chris took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as he got hit with the smell of your scent and the feel of your mouth around him, he wasn’t sure if this specific babydoll you were wearing would make it to his house…

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

tagging everyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know ! If you want to be added to the tag list, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

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[glittering-moonlillie]

Rough Sketches (Damian Wayne x Artist! Reader)

Word Count: 2662

Warnings: Very suggestive, mild language

Summary: You knew all along that it was a bad idea to bring that dreaded sketchbook to his house, so why were you surprised to find out that things, indeed, went wrong.

The sounds of your 2B pencil hitting the smooth, white paper filled the silence of the wolf gray room. You started with a circle which, with a few more lines, easily transformed into a diamond shaped face. Next was the pointed nose along with the ears and neck, all of which were drawn with masterful precision. 

The eyes were always your favorite to draw; they were a deep and lively forest shade that made you melt whenever they came into contact with your own.  In this drawing specifically, his eyes were half lidded and showing only a sliver of green, his lips etched into a seductive smirk.

After a few more minutes, you were able to look down at the image of your boyfriend, Damian - shirtless, toned, and looking like he might chain you to his bed if you gave your consent. You held the notebook close to your chest and squealed, face tinted with both embarrassment and ardor.

You were an artist at heart, something that you and Damian bonded over the moment you two met. While Damian drew more realistically, focusing on actual details rather than abstracts, you preferred a more characterized style that personified a person’s personality. It lies between realism and cartoonism. People were always your favorite things to draw. There was always something satisfying about being able to perfectly capture a person with simple lines and colors. 

Over the time span of knowing one another, he quickly became your muse, the person you wanted to practice drawing over and over, and as your feelings for him increased so did your desire to get every single detail of him correctly. This desire continued the day he asked you to be his beloved girlfriend. 

Innocent drawings of his sharp eyes and cheshire smile morphed into something more risque, something dirtier. There were an array of pages with nothing but a shirtless Damian solely based on your secret desire for him to dominate you. 

For that reason, the small art collection was hidden away under the folds of your bed, only taken out during the darkest of nights when you got lonely enough. You were too embarrassed to ever reveal them in the light of day, and you were sure you would die if Damian ever uncovered the sketchbook. If Damian ever did see how perverted you really were, he would undoubtedly break up with you. After a string of terrible breakups, you weren’t sure if you could handle another, especially with the son Bruce Wayne. 

So it was a wonder why you left the sketchbook in your small night bag while you got ready to stay over at his house. It was a lapse of judgment, really, a small misstep that would certainly lead to disaster if you weren’t careful enough. And yet, there was a strong guiding force that  compelled you to take it out and start doodling.  After all, Damian was out on patrol and he said he would be back at 11:15 precisely. It was only 10:30 now, you had time to indulge in mindless fantasy, right? 

Your eyes traveled back down to your newest sketch, your brain trying to decide on whether or not you were disgusted with yourself or if you should be pleased. The drawing itself seemed alright, the anatomy was near perfect but the actual content…well…It felt sinful, like drinking too much bubbly soda that left a deep hole in your stomach and spoiled your dinner. 

As you glared down at your own creation, surgically dissecting the morality of drawing your boyfriend as often as you did (along with the few lude ones) when the window towards the front left of the room began to slide open. You could only watch like a deer in the scrutinizing gaze of a car’s headlights as Damian pulled himself through the small opening. 

“Beloved, I’m home.” He said, an unusual goofy smile plastered on his face. “Dick let me come home early and so I was able to pick up some food for us.”

Any profanity that you had been taught up till now was used at this exact moment to curse anything and everything: Your luck, the cruel gods, Dick Grayson, and most of all, yourself. You should have thrown the sketchbook into the fireplace in the living room once you realized you brought it - or, even better, you should have never created it in the first place.

 You shoved the indecent drawings underneath the dark green sheets.  “T-that’s…wonderful…” You sighed, breath shaky. Any slight oddity in your behavior could lead to Damian’s detective skills to be triggered. “Welcome home, my love!”

You stared at him, doing your best to imitate a calm and collected smile. Damian stared back, grin slowly shifting into something more curious. He took off his mask, tossing it onto his (frustratingly) organized mahogany desk and took a few steps closer to the bed. The food was left on the desk as well, the enticing aroma wafting over and tickling your nose. 

“Wh-what’s up?” You laughed half heartedly, voice trailing off as soon as the laughter escaped your throat. Did he have to tower over you like this -  like a cat about to pounce on his prey? 

“Nothing. I think…I think I just like the idea of coming home to you on my bed like this.” He plopped down onto the bed next to you, part of his darkened cape folding onto your legs. “That and you are acting quite peculiar.”

Lord almighty. 

“O-Oh? I am?” You asked, squirming towards the sketchbook, praying to any demon that would hear you that he would not notice its presence. Your hands crawled towards the book until it covered the huge DAMIAN WAYNE, MY BELOVED label attached to the front. 

Despite your pleas, it seemed that fate had something else hidden up its mischievous sleeves. 

Damian’s eyes narrowed as he scanned your movements until they landed on the haphazardly partially covered book. “Ah, you were drawing. I have never seen that cover before, can I look at it?”

Every nerve in your body seemed to be doused in gasoline fluid, only for him to kindly light a match and toss it, making everything burn inside and out. The blazing sensation rose to your cheeks and clogged your throat until it burned. Damian’s eyes continued to pierce straight through your soul and you realized the longer you took to respond, the more skeptical he will become. 

“Sketchbook? Right, yes, I was drawing while waiting for you to get home. Totally normal, totally fine, not something you would really be interested in.” With hasty hands, you pulled the pad close to your chest carefully so as to not expose the embarrassing label, your arms acting like a steel gate protecting glinting jewels from tempted dragons. 

His lips quirked into a frown and he, with minimal effort, raised a singular eyebrow. “That’s nonsense, Habibti. I always love seeing your art.” 

“I-I really don’t think you would want to see it. I mean, the sketches are really rough and it might melt your eyes off and your eyes are too pretty to be melted.” You exclaimed. 

Damian’s nose scrunched and it was at this moment you realized he did not believe you in the slightest. Unaffected by your behavior though, Damian reached for the coveted drawings swiftly, forcing you to jump off the bed and backpedal to the center of the room. 

“Beloved, this is nonsense. Why can’t I see your drawings?” Like a panther, Damian stalked his way towards you slowly yet purposefully. 

“Because!”

“Because…?”

He stepped closer, making him an arm’s reach away. Close enough to feel the irritation building up inside him. 

“Because I…” You drawed out the vowel. “I want to keep it private..?” It was a lie and you both knew it. Sharing art together was one of your guys’ main forms of quality time and you have never turned down the opportunity to do so. It was a quiet intimacy that allowed the other to see how you viewed the world and there was nothing you loved more.

There was a brief pause, echoing silence filling the room as the two of you engaged in an intense staring contest. It was at that moment, the second Damian’s lips twitched into a tenuous smirk, that you realized you began a competition you already lost. “Forgive me for this, alright Beloved?”

Damian extended his arm and attempted to grab the sketchbook again, resulting in the most terrifying game of tug of war you had ever participated in. Every centimeter of leverage you gained, Damian was there to pull back another 5 inches. You did your best to pull the drawings out of your boyfriend’s grasp but there was no way you could win in a tugging match with one of Gotham’s strongest protectors. 

With one harsh tug, you ended up falling on the carpeted floor of the room, hands empty. Damian’s frame towered over you, one hand trapping you under him and the other holding the sketchbook in his hands. A dangerous smile was plastered on his face. 

He pulled away, resting some of his weight on your lower abdomen and rendering you immobile. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but feel a certain way with Damian on top of you like this. His smirks were always rugged and somewhat sinister in tone, but now, with him on top of you, it felt like electricity shooting through your body and down between your thighs.

He scanned the front of the small binder and chuckled upon seeing the cover. “I see why you wouldn’t want to share this with me, I suppose. A sketchbook with nothing but me? Habibti, I’m flattered.”

You writhed, you pleaded, you begged - but Damian, with a small hum, began to flip through the pages. He would do anything to inflate his already bolstering confidence. With each flip, you counted down the remaining seconds you had of being his girlfriend. Seconds felt like an epoch and worse, you were powerless to do anything. 

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to share this with me, Habibti, these are wonderf-”

Damian’s voice waned as he flipped the next page; you could feel the pressure of his body settling, juxtaposed with his slight gaping mouth, curious eyes, and red tinted ears. Another shiver danced along your spine, like a ghost's touch, as he connected his eyes with yours. The intense green pigment left you feeling dizzy yet paralyzed with need, forcing you to close your eyes lest you might fall for him deeper. 

You waited for him to say something, anything, but all he could do was stare. The only comforting noise was the slight ringing in your ears from the loud silence.

“I knew you would think I was disgusting…” You muttered. 

Damian shook his head, eyes crinkling from the accusation.“What? No no…it’s not that, beloved. This isn’t disgusting in the slightest.” He said. “I was just a little surprised, my love.”

With a sigh, Damian pulled your dazed form into his arms and picked you up, carrying you back to the bed and laying you down on the covers. He pressed his lips to your temple delicately. “I want to show you something.”

He inched away with a whispered laugh. Damian lowered himself to the ground and pulled out what seemed to be a hidden box of drawing supplies and papers. 

“I wanted to show you this for a while, Habibti but a part of me was unsure how you would react.” He tugged out a similar looking sketchbook to yours. The cover was scuffed and darkened with age and each paper spilled out, begging for release. Damian stood back up and lightly kicked the box into place under the bed. 

Damian’s hand slipped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He held the mess of papers in front of you and as he pressed loving kisses along your exposed neck, he murmured a soft “Look through it.” 

You hesitantly opened the cover and the first image you see is a beautiful picture of you drawn with the loving intricacy of a photograph. Splashes of your favorite color decorated the outline of the portrait and you could discern the collar of the outfit Damian loved to see you wear. The next few pages were all similar to the first with the same picturesque quality; every portrait featured you smiling, flaws and all. 

Damian’s arms wrapped around you tighter, trapping you against him. You could feel his heartbeat matching yours, thumping against your back. His fingers played with your hair, twirling it into delicate curls. The way you were positioned, Damian’s thigh was directly in between your own, and you hated the urge you had to start rubbing yourself against him. 

As you flipped the next page, your vision is suddenly filled with drawings of you clothless, sprawled out and blushing. Damian had never seen you naked and yet every curve felt like looking in a silver lined mirror. Your breathing hitched. 

“I think you have the most gorgeous body in the world,” He said, “I’ve always wanted to worship your body fully but I wasn’t sure if you wanted that or not…”

His finger trailed down your neck to the opening of your shirt, leaving a fiery trail of butterflies in its wake and teasingly playing with the buttons. “I didn’t realize you needed me this badly, Beloved…” He whispered in your ear. 

“D-Damian…”

You shifted around, body suddenly searching - yearning - for something, but you weren’t sure what. It was an exuberant, even wanton, anticipation; a breathless pining that consumed every ounce of your being until your mind became clouded with need. Any previous inhibition you had quickly drifted away. 

There was some more shuffling of papers and yet another soft chuckle emanated. “Darling, if you wanted to know how big I was, you could have just asked.”

He held up another picture from your sketchbook, one where you attempted to draw a fully nude picture of Damian that ended up being scrapped, the only remnant being the question How big even is he? 5, 6 inches maybe? 

Instead of being embarrassed by this though, the comment only furthered your lack of restraint, and you had to slowly rock yourself back and forth against Damian’s thigh to assuage the increasingly empty pit deep within you. Damian’s lips pressed against your neck once more, surely leaving marks to remember in the morning. 

A small whimper escaped your mouth, his hands wandering up further until they palmed your chest. You allowed yourself to move just a bit faster, only for Damian’s hands to trail back down and tightly grab your hips, forcing you to remain still. 

“Damian, what the hell!” You whined. 

“Patience, my love. If you want me to fuck you then you have to calm down, alright?” He turned you around so that you were now face to face and kissed you gently. “This is our first time after all, I want to do it right.”

He continued to press tortuous open-mouthed kisses down your body, unbuttoning your blouse along the way. “You are so beautiful…” He murmured against your skin. 

Your back arched from the hint of pleasure feasting your body, picking away at every last bit of sanity until nothing remained. The comfortable clothes you wore suddenly felt too tight and restricting to breathe.

He pushed you onto the bed so your back was flush against the covers, his frame looming over you, and from the tent of his black pants, you could tell that your estimation of five to six inches was far off. 

“Damian…I need you…” You panted. “Please”

“And you will have me, Y/n.” He assured, the loving smile he only showed you in full view. “But for right now, I just want you to stay still and be good for me, alright?”

So as some of you may seen, I don't have as much experience with writing heavy spicy stuff, so I know that this is probably really bad. But! That's okay! Because one day I am going to look back at cringe, and that will just be a sign of my improvement! Also, I wasn't sure how to end it so...uh...OPEN ENDING-

[your-modern-sappho]

Okay okay okay!!

Guys. Soooo… Werewolves, right?

First of all, the condition of lycanthropy is largely linked to the stages of the moon. Rather than a sudden transformation on the night of the full moon, lycanthropy displays itself in an individual constantly, in a gradual ebb and flow. Here, we will dive into each phase of the moon and what it brings:

The New Moon 🌑

For many lycans, the new moon is a chance for rest and rejuvenation. For a period of twenty-four hours, the moon is “missing” from the sky. And it is during this phase that a lycan is most human. There is no stark differences from your average human. The canines are relatively dull, skin clear, and there is little to no hunger gnawing at their belly. Their hormones are stabilized, resulting in relative calmness and ease.

Waxing Crescent 🌒

Lasting for a duration of roughly seven days, the waxing crescent brings with it very minor changes to an otherwise human appearance. Throughout this week, body hair is known to darken and grow coarser than weeks past, though remains manageably short with no accelerated growth. There is no notable change in the canines, nor any increased body odor.

First Quarter 🌓

Lasting one day, the human canines begin to ache and loosen as the body prepares lupine canines beneath the gums. By this point the werewolf will start developing a “second skin” beneath their human skin, which will reaveal itself later in the cycle.

Waxing Gibbous 🌔

Lasting seven days, This week is incredibly painful, as the human skin will tear and slough off to reveal furred, thick wolf-skin that had formed underneath, and bones will break and reshape themselves entirely as the body begins to shift in preparation for the full moon. Body oder will be strong, and the lycan’s mental state will be in shambles. This phase of the moon could bring a variety of changes to the individual, including but not limited to: extreme irritability, overstimulation, fatigue, headache, depression, and anxiety.

Due to the energy expended in this phase, lycans will experience a sharp, near debilitating increase in hunger. If not properly nourished during this phase, the full moon will bring disastrous results.

The Full Moon 🌕

The full moon, spanning over three days, comes in three different phases of its own.

The first day is centered around the full transformation, in which any semblance to a human is lost and the body shifts completely into the one of two possible forms known to lycans. The difference of these forms will be covered at a later date. The werewolf can still speak, but their vocal clarity and pitch will have dropped significantly. If properly fed in the week prior, they should be able to maintain full control over their body and mind.

The second day, when the full moon is the strongest, the werewolf will be much more aggressive, even if unintentionally. While a new moon brings out their human side most, a full moon does the complete opposite. Their human conscious no longer has control over their body and they will be unable to speak intelligently.

And finally, in the last day, the individual will be completely exhausted. Their movement will be sluggish and uncoordinated, and it will be hard for them to fully process their surroundings. The level of aggression will fluctuate depending on the individual themselves, but on average is fairly mild. Do not mistake this as a day of rest, as a werewolf can still be quite emotionally volatile and sore from the previous day.

If not properly nourished in the week of the Waxing Gibbous, the individual will be left starving from the energy expenditure, becoming uncontrollably aggressive. They will lash out in blind hunger, and in true animalistic fashion, will not be able to stop themselves from hunting and consuming anything they may get their claws and teeth into. If for whatever reason a lycan is unable to gain back the lost energy, they will die during their transformation into a more humanoid form.

Waning Gibbous 🌖

Lasting seven days, it is in this phase that the werewolf de-transitions. Fur will begin to fall out, bones reconfigure themselves once more, and skin stretched by the transformation will start to tighten back up as the lycan shifts to a more humanoid, though still wolfish, form. Another painful week. Rather than aggressive, a werewolf during this week will just be in a constant state of exhaustion.

Third Quarter 🌗

Lasts one day; The turning point in which the werewolf finally looks more human than animal. By this point they’ve returned to a respectably human size, body odor decreasing and mental state stabilizing.

Waning Crescent 🌘

Lasts seven days. A werewolf in this week will appear near seamlessly human, aside from sharp canines that will fall out as the week comes to an end, and perhaps some lingering fatigue.

(Might make edits later)

@canis-lycanthropus

[roseinyoursaltwater]

REVISED WEREWOLF HEADCANNONS

WEREWOLVES

    ◦    MUTTS

CAUSE: There are three ways to become a werewolf in this universe. The first being the most obvious, being born one. Werewolves are born into a tribe, each tribe being slightly different in appearance as well as culturally. The second way being a potion, while rare, few still have these potent potions and their reversal, seems to be nonexistent. These potions are so old, mostly everyone alive has no idea what's in it. A high enough dosage may also kill someone.  The third being a bite from a werewolf. While only working when a wolf is in their form, their saliva is similar to the potion, permanently turning someone into a wolf or if it is severe enough, killing them.

APPEARANCE: always varying, there are some similarities. Human appearances are dependent on what region their live on, as are their wolf forms. However, there is a basic standard. Werewolves are four legged in their wolf form, they're about five feet tall at their shoulders. Their coloring is dependent on the region. (Ie the southern wolf tribe is a light brown and white color) their teeth are a couple of inches long along with their claws. Eye color is also varying (the southern Wolfe tribe having a yellowish car). They're very strong, while they're faster than humans, compared to other occult they're slow (especially when compared to Meif'was and shadow knights)

PERSONALITY: Werewolves overall are friendly within their tribe. While there is a hierarchy system, they still care about each other. Toward outsiders, werewolves are an unfriendly species in general. However, they're very caring toward their young and probably spend the most time with them compared to humans especially and other occults. They value teaching and tradition, passing down everything they can to their young. While they don't act the most joyful, doesn't mean they aren't joyful - they just mask a lot of emotion. 

LOCATION: They're located in every region it seems, in variation. Ru'aun has probably the largest amount of wolf tribes compared to the others. They're considered higher class in Ru'aun compared to their Tu'La region counterparts. Mostly in the rockier and colder regions of a place.

CULTURE: culture is also similar between tribes, they value hunting, nature and being a community. They value guiding their children and eating large meals together as a community. They have fires together and ceremonies. Birth of a pup is also a very important moment which involves many ceremonies. While it is a male dominated society, some women still have a large influence with tribe. However, women will have one partner while men seem to have multiple. They're pretty accepting of same sex couples. (As are most of the occult)

FIGHTING: in their human forms, they do hand to hand combat. Though sometimes having daggers or spears with them. In their wolf forms, anything goes. Claws, teeth - anyway they can harm someone or something is done. When hunting, these use weapons on small prey like rabbits however, they hunt big game in their wolf forms.

WEAPONS: daggers, spears

LORE: werewolves as mentioned are big doers (no pun intended) of polygamy. While they'll have one spouse, sleeping with others is pretty okay. The more wives you have, the higher status in the pack you have. They have longer life spans compared to humans, usually outliving them by 10 - 15 years. Marriage is usually done in their late teens and a big feast will follow, depending on their status in the rank will decrease or increase the quality, amount of food and guests as well as how many days it goes on for. This is the same for ceremonies for when pups are born as well birthdays. High ranking pack members receive quite large birthday celebrations. Funerals are also large events depending on the ranking of individuals. However, wolves in the Tu'La region bury their culture. Barely turning into their form - they try to mask themselves within the region to not be sensed by Meif'was. Werewolves are low class citizens over there and can be and will be executed if found.

REWRITE LINK BELOW

[acourtofquestions]

For being a “romance” writer I actually think the best love stories shown in the Maasverse are not romantic:

The platonic & “found family” storylines; Primarily the SISTERHOOD is what I think lands next level.

*stay with me here*

The Archeron Sisters: dysfunctional — YES — but aren't siblings always?🤣 They however, not only carry the plot; (example) THEY kill Hybern. But, they ALSO carry the greatest character development; (ex.) NESTA! And in that propel the two; (ex-LITERALLY the BEGINNING of the ENTIRE series) why does Feyre go with Tamlin to Prythian in the first place? — to protect/save her sisters. The 3 of them serve as a key to the heart of the story. Their dysfunction as children (reminder: they were children) revolved both around carrying the weight of their parents mistakes, a village that abandoned & scorned, and their failures to themselves & each other; but in the end, they are redeemed. At the end of the day, they ARE sisters, & they love each other; they will go to the grave for that, they will come home to that, and they will keep trying & surviving, fighting with & for that… Without them there is no story… it ends long before it begins; the high lady dies with her child, the man of shadow never laughs, the son of autumn stays in suffocating spring, the blood letter bleeds to death, no ships appear in the war, the mortal world is forgotten falling to ruin unseen & unspoken, the world crumbles under the mountain as violet eyes go out, no paint coats the cabin, the eldest daughter freezes in her barren bitter cold, the flower child wilts in the bereavement of once being beloved, the girl stays alone never knowing more never feeling love never having a thing to fight for; she never kills the wolf. The story is untold without the Archeron Sisters.

The Valkyrie: beyond the Archeron sisters we have a sisterhood that was built out of shared trauma & shared strength beyond blood-bound; a storyline that I found quite literally healing to read (especially for women who have lived through trauma and abuse; a group that’s voice is not often heard enough) & hitting home dearly for any woman who has experienced found sisterhood; you know, it is a different kind of love; one that would go to war for each other, a love that knows more, adores wholly (seeing & knowing better, more, deeper, further; unconditional). Their friendship is very VERY powerful; from the quite literal physical sense, and the greater sense of empowerment (both to the characters, storyline/plot & the readers); plus extra props to being able to change Nesta’s mind (that alone is a feat worthy of godesshood😂). And the heroine’s of the storyline; one that exceeds a singular book & enters the real world; almost becoming an entire series of a new world (even without the tale to read; though I hope for more someday).

I can’t speak of Valkyries & Archeron Sisters without speaking to our other ancient brethren of heroes; THE BAT BOYS: I feel like another group in contrast that is not always given a voice that allows emotion is friendships among men (they are either acceptable by “bro” codes with a double-back-pat ONLY, or demeaned as for showing normal human emotion) so, I appreciate that here we have powerful & strong heroes (that are portrayed as such) while having platonically loving friendships/found family (that does not revolve around demeaning women). And what a powerful/beautiful century spanning tear-jerking true-love showing story it is; one that is a key to the heart & psyche of these characters; & that I think the story would not exist without. They have loved each other through everything; from start to end, they have fought side by side, they were the heart before there was a story. They were what they were fighting for… you could say the true treasure was the friends they made along the way… like 500 years ago… & I mean doesn’t that say enough? — Who would you spend 500 years with? — Well, whatever the answer is: THAT is true love.

[apod]

2023 September 4

Cygnus: Bubble and Crescent Credit & Copyright: Abdullah Al-Harbi

Explanation: As stars die, they create clouds. Two stellar death clouds of gas and dust can be found toward the high-flying constellation of the Swan (Cygnus) as they drift through rich star fields in the plane of our Milky Way Galaxy. Caught here within the telescopic field of view are the Soap Bubble (lower left) and the Crescent Nebula (upper right). Both were formed at the final phase in the life of a star. Also known as NGC 6888, the Crescent Nebula was shaped as its bright, central massive Wolf-Rayet star, WR 136, shed its outer envelope in a strong stellar wind. Burning through fuel at a prodigious rate, WR 136 is near the end of a short life that should finish in a spectacular supernova explosion. Discovered in 2013, the Soap Bubble Nebula is likely a planetary nebula, the final shroud of a lower mass, long-lived, Sun-like star destined to become a slowly cooling white dwarf. Both stellar nebulas are about 5,000 light-years distant, with the larger Crescent Nebula spanning about 25 light-years across. Within a few million years, both will likely have dispersed.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap230904.html

[thenegoteator]

i'm so normal about woo hyein. she lost her little sister the day she discovered her unusually strong healing powers. she became an internationally renowned guild leader within the span of 2 years just to better hunt down her sister's killer. the world is her lone wolf revenge drama and everyone else is just living in it

[takaraphoenix]

Shot Through the Heart

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, Pack Feels, Spark Stiles, magic, fluff, hurt/comfort, competence kink, m/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Scott/Allison, Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Allison Argent, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin

@writersmonth Prompts: mischief + mountain

Summary: After the kanima curse is broken, Chris unwillingly lets himself be dragged into pack business so he can protect his daughter. Unfortunately, Stiles proves too cunning and tempting. He's not the only one tempted though and their mutual simping over Stiles brings him and Peter together.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

Shot Through the Heart

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Chris had no idea how he had ended up here. A year ago, he'd been a respectable hunter, married to a strong woman, a regular, normal family father. And now he was in bed with a werewolf, who kept whispering filth about a boy who was his daughter's age while the two fucked like animals.

Chris heaved a sigh as he rolled onto his back, resting the back of his hand on his forehead. He never meant to develop feelings for Peter Hale. But then again, he absolutely, most definitely had not meant to develop feelings for Stiles either and, arguably, those were what had brought him into bed with Peter in the first place, which had then led to the aforementioned feelings for the wolf.

It hadn't started out like this. When he had arrived here, in Beacon Hills, with Victoria and Allison, it wasn't supposed like this. And then, one by one, every lie he'd ever clung to crumbled. His marriage with Victoria had been arranged and on their good days, they got along splendidly. As much as a gay man could get along with his wife emotionally distant, anyway. What united them had always been Allison and the hunt. And then they started to drift apart, because Chris started to question the way his family hunted, and Allison sat smack in the middle of it – being groomed by Kate, by Gerard, while also being deeply in love with a werewolf.

But even with every horrid thing they had done, they were still his family. His wife, his sister, his father. And he had lost them all in the span of less than a year. It broke something inside him, something that needed to mend and didn't know how. It was Allison who showed him.

After everything, she was more determined than ever to stand with the wolves, and she dragged him right along with her, because he couldn't lose her, not her. She was his only family left, she was his daughter, his world. He needed to protect her and he knew that taking her away from the pack wasn't going to work, he knew that to protect her, he would have to be there. With the pack.

But first came a bit of healing, for them both. After his father's death, after the way Allison had lost it – Chris had been terrified of his daughter, of what was becoming of his daughter, when she had shot down Boyd and Erica like it was nothing, like they were nothing and it was the final straw, it was his personal tipping point that this needed to stop, they could no longer be the kind of hunters he had been all his life, he could not see his daughter become like them. Hunters ought to be about honor and this had nothing to do with honor, what the Argents had become was a warped and twisted thing of vengeance and pain. He took her to Paris, over the summer. Months away from Beacon Hills, months to mourn and heal (including actual therapy, for the both of them).

When they came back, things between Allison and the pack were tentative, to say the least. She had the unwavering support of Scott and Lydia, but the utter (and deserved) distrust of Boyd, Erica and Stiles. The Hales were wary and not fans of it either. Yet in the end, despite his distrust, it had been Stiles who was the deciding factor and that afternoon had drastically changed Chris' life...

/break\

Chris didn't even know why he was here, in Derek Hale's loft. Allison had been invited to a pack meeting and she had been requested to bring her father along. She'd offered her father the patented princess eyes that he had never been able to deny. All she wanted was to redeem herself, to show the pack that she was trustworthy, that she wanted to be good, all she wanted was to help. And Chris couldn't deny her that, even if it meant going to meet the Hale Pack.

"Why are they here," Derek growled, eyes flashing red.

His fists were balled at his side, Boyd, Erica and Isaac beside him, snarling and flashing their eyes too. Jackson appeared more neutral, torn between the loyalty to his new Alpha and his pack-mates and his loyalty toward his mate – Lydia Martin, who had immediately dashed over to hug Allison tightly. Scott was standing on Allison's other side, growling at the other wolves. Peter was in the back, on the spiral staircase, observing it all with a calculating but intrigued gaze.

"Put the claws away, Sourwolf," Stiles spoke as he stepped between them. "I invited them."

Chris froze, surprised. Partially by the boy's words – he had invited Allison? And Chris? Why? He'd been hunted and tortured by Gerard, he had been right there with Boyd and Erica, why would he ever look at an Argent again? Chris had assumed Scott invited her, wanted her to be involved in all of this – and partially by his action. This sixteen year old lanky human boy just stepped in front of an Alpha wolf whose fangs and claws were out. The guts on that kid were terrifying. But then he'd also faced Gerard down when the man had tortured him, not backing down but rather wise-cracking and pushing Gerard's buttons. Stiles had absolutely no self-preservation instincts and he was braver than he should be. Braver than anyone should be.

"Why," Derek snarled this time, stepping up to Stiles and pushing him.

Stiles didn't back down, but the action did make Scott growl in anger and attempt to lung forward. Chris reached out to press a hand against Scott's chest and push the boy back. The last thing they needed was for an all out fight to break out between the wolves in the room and somehow, for reasons beyond Chris' comprehension, Chris was sure that Stiles knew what he was doing.

"Because there's a pack of fucking Alpha werewolves in town," Stiles snarled right back, holding direct eye contact with red Alpha eyes without submitting. "Not just a pack of evil wolves, a whole damn pack of Alphas. You're not going to take them out on your own, Derek, for fuck's sake. You agreed to accept help. Here's your fucking help."

"Yours and Scott's," Derek hissed back. "That's the help I agreed to."

"Didn't specify," Stiles had that cocky, infuriating half-smirk on his lips that stretched too far. "I told you you needed help, you agreed. I meant me and Scott. And I meant the Argents. Who in this room has the most experience hunting and killing werewolves? You? Your bunch of barely a couple months old puppies who barely saw any action so far?"

Stiles motioned around, motioned at everyone present. Chris couldn't help but follow the motion. A bunch of scared and traumatized teenagers who'd only been turned months ago, who were most likely still learning about their wolves and how to fight. His eyes landed on Peter and he didn't like what he saw on the other man's face. He looked far too pleased and in Chris' experience, that was never a good thing. There was also something unsettling about Peter's focus on Stiles.

"You know Stiles is right, nephew," Peter declared delighted. "I hate the idea of working with an Argent as much as you do, but the threat we're facing are werewolves. And they're werewolf hunters. Now stop trying to intimidate the boy, you know it's not working."

With clenched teeth did Derek back off of Stiles, looking mostly annoyed that his uncle's words were true. Stiles had to be cocky about that too, earning him another growl from the Alpha. Truly no self-preservation instincts whatsoever.

"Look," Stiles sighed, his posture relaxing and his voice softening some. "I know. I get it. I spent a lovely evening getting tortured by an Argent, not exactly the biggest fan right now either. But they have a unique expertise that we're going to need. The Alpha Pack went after Boyd and Erica, they nearly captured them before. If you, Peter and Isaac hadn't found them…" Stiles shook himself. "They've been laying low for months now and I don't have a good feeling about it. Tell me, honestly, do you? Do you believe that they just... up and left and gave up? Or do you think they're hiding and plotting and we're about to be hit with a shitstorm of apocalyptic proportions?"

The Alpha's silence spoke volumes. Derek crossed his arms, aiming a glare at Chris and Allison. Chris noted the lack of red eyes. Apparently, the wolf had calmed down some. Apparently, the loud-mouthed teen was convincing the Alpha to do what he wanted.

"I'm not saying invite them into your pack," Stiles continued. "Fuck, I'm not even asking you to invite me or Scott back into your pack, I know Scott fucked up badly."

Erica and Boyd whined displeased by that, and so did Scott, though for different reasons. The two betas who had been tortured alongside Stiles clearly felt a kind of bond with the boy, most likely wanted him in their pack. And Scott? Chris wasn't sure, perhaps it was guilt, or regret.

"Right now, all of us have a common enemy," Stiles motioned around again. "Your pack as much as Scott and I, and a pack of Alphas isn't going to ignore the hunters in town either. So the best we all can do to survive is work together."

"He's right," Lydia pointed out, holding Allison's hand and Derek's gaze. "You know he's right. There's strength in numbers, and in shared resources."

"From what I gather," Chris spoke up when the silence stretched on. "I agree too. A pack of Alphas? As in, a pack where every member is an Alpha? Stiles is right, they won't ignore hunters, they'll come after us to eliminate a threat. And my best chance to keep Allison alive against a threat like that are you and your pack. A truce, Hale. We don't have to be friends, we just have to keep those we love alive and safe and we're each other's best bet."

He spoke to the Alpha, but his eyes did drift over toward Peter too. Both Hales were thoughtful. In the end, it was Derek who caved, with a heavy sigh, nodding. His betas backed down too. The next two hours were spent talking. Derek and Peter explained about the symbol found on the door of the Hale House, about the Alphas who had tried to go after Boyd and Erica, the concept of a pack made up entirely of Alpha werewolves. It was a lot to digest.

"I'll reach out to the contacts I still have, that I know I can trust, see what I can learn."

Derek nodded his acknowledgment. "Do you… want to… join our patrols? More people mean more shifts. More opportunity for rest for the others."

"Yes," Chris agreed without hesitation.

Not having to patrol on his own, for the sake of protecting Allison, sounded good. Even if he was still reluctant to trust wolves, he was trying to work up to it. Stiles clapped, grinning delighted.

"Wonderful. I am so proud of all of you. Cookies for everyone," Stiles stretched. "It's getting late, let's call it a day. We'll stay in contact, work out a schedule."

"How are we staying in contact? Coming here?" Chris looked displeased.

Stiles typed away on his phone and then suddenly, everyone's phone was buzzing. When Chris pulled his out of his pocket, he saw that he had been added to a Beacon Hills Defense Squad group-chat with… the entire pack, Lydia, Allison, Scott and Stiles.

"How do you even have my number," Jackson asked disturbed.

"How do you have my number?" Peter sounded genuinely baffled.

Chris wasn't going to repeat the sentence, but he was asking himself the same question. Stiles' grin turned just a note of shit-eating as he offered a casual shrug and stuffed his phone into his hoodie.

"Easier this way," was Stiles' only reply. "That way, we can easier organize meetings and patrols, share information and update everyone on how patrol went. Or ask for help in case of Alpha Pack."

The meeting was pretty much over at this point. Allison was lingering in the corner with Lydia, Scott and Jackson, talking softly, looking tense and reluctant. Boyd, Erica and Isaac were in the other corner. Derek stood closer to his uncle – not close though – and Chris was near the door, only waiting for Allison so they could go. Which was when Stiles approached him.

"You're going to give me wolfsbane bullets," Stiles stated.

"What," Chris coughed, surprised by the demand.

The wolves in the room quieted down and turned toward them. "Wolfsbane bullets. You're going to give them to me. I don't want to play the 'your dad tortured me in your basement so you owe me' card, but… your dad tortured me in your basement so you owe me."

"Stiles," Scott's voice pitched in distress.

"No," Stiles cut him off, voice and gaze sharp, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. "This was always about you, I played by your rules because you're the one who went through the painful, traumatic change. Guess what. You're no longer the only one who went through something painful and traumatic. I'm done being the helpless human sidekick, Scott. I got kidnapped and tortured because I was defenseless and I will not be defenseless again."

"But…" Scott's resistance weakened, but his face still looked troubled.

"Remember," Stiles pressed his lips together for a second. "When I said that I'll forgive you, but you owe me for going behind my back and getting us kicked out of the pack? This is it. This is what you owe me, Scotty. I know you hate guns, but I hate getting tortured."

His eyes were cutting like sharpened steel and Scott faltered completely, looking guilty and worried. Chris crossed his own arms over his chest, regarding Stiles with a pointed look. This was not a discussion he needed to have with Scott, he wanted this from Chris, after all.

"I will not give you a gun, Stiles."

"Didn't ask for a gun," Stiles cocked one eyebrow. "I asked for bullets."

"Didn't ask," Peter chimed in, sounding far too amused. "Demanded."

"What would you even do with just bullets," Isaac asked confused.

"I figured I'd just throw them real hard," Stiles' voice was dripping with sarcasm and he rolled his eyes. "I have a gun, I just need the werewolf-killing-bullets to make it effective."

"Why do you own a gun, Stilinski," Jackson sounded mortified.

It was a fair question. Stiles was a minor and he was Stiles. Chris had seen the boy flail and twitch and the thought of his finger on a trigger was utterly unsettling. Stiles looked unimpressed.

"Well, I don't technically 'legally' own a gun," Stiles put actual finger quotes up at 'legally'. "It was my mother's. According to her will, it's going to be mine when I turn twenty-one. It's been collecting dust in the family safe, so I'll just get it out… early."

"That just makes it sound worse," Lydia muttered, one hand clasped over her mouth.

"Yeah," Erica made a face. "Hate to agree with Lydia on principle, but you shooting a gun?"

"You guys make it so hard not to take offense to this," Stiles huffed. "I'm literally the sheriff's son, it's honestly insulting that you people think my dad hasn't taught me how to respect, take care of and use a gun. I was practically raised at the sheriff's station and whenever I got bored – which, if you met me, you know happens fast and a lot – the deputies take me to the shooting range. Also, we literally live in the middle of the damn woods. My dad and I go hunting once a month. So yes, I even know how to hit a moving target."

"I am beyond intrigued," Peter's voice was close to a purr. "I'd love to see that."

"Are you offering to be target practice?" Stiles' grin was all teeth and wickedness.

"I am going to require you actually proving that," Chris pointed out, wanting to interrupt whatever was happening between Peter and Stiles now. "I'll not provide ammunition to a minor just because he's sassing and guilt-tripping me, Stiles."

Stiles shrugged, indifferent look on his face. "Give me a time and a place and I'll be there."

"Oh, I will be there too," Lydia declared with wide eyes.

"Me three," Erica tagged on. "Batman using a gun? I have to see that."

"Aw, a bonding experience for the whole team," Stiles snickered, eyeing Chris.

"Fine," Chris heaved a sigh. "Saturday, ten AM, my house."

/break\

Peter could not picture a place he'd want to be any less than the Argent house. And on a Saturday morning, at that. Like he didn't have better things to do. Alas, his boy had invited himself into the Argent house to prove to the hunter that he deserved to get wolfsbane bullets and suddenly, there were various reasons for Peter to be here.

Stiles was the most interesting this this town had to offer. The boy was clever, cunning, brave, loyal, snarky, stubborn and beautiful. Peter had been intrigued from the get-go. He'd told Stiles that he thought Stiles would make a magnificent wolf, and he had meant it. Stiles fascinated him and that fascination quickly grew into infatuation when he came back from the dead, more sane. More there, more focused. The fact that Stiles had been tortured by an Argent made his blood boil, but his wolf was also howling in awe when he'd heard from Boyd and Erica how Stiles had taken the brunt force of it, distracting Gerard from them, trying to protect them, even getting eletricuted when he'd tried to free them. That boy's loyalty and his dedication to protect those he deems worthy made Peter's wolf snarl and growl with the need to break out and claim that perfect potential mate.

Patience, he'd whisper to his wolf. Stiles had killed him and he had plenty of reason to resent him. Peter, upon coming back, had vowed to make himself worthy, to charm the boy, show him how alike they were and how perfect Peter was for him. Which included protecting his boy.

And that was why Peter entered the Argent house, together with the rest of the slowly growing Hale Pack. Peter's eyes wandered over Derek and the reluctant betas. Isaac was standing closer to Scott than he was to Derek. Boyd and Erica, they had left the pack. They'd returned only because of Stiles, because of the bond those three forged that night was what kept them here, what made them return. Well, Peter knew that him, Derek and Isaac coming to get them after Stiles told them, that had helped too. It had mended some things between the two betas and Derek. But, again, it was Stiles who had been the deciding factor here, the one to even let them know they had to find and save the two betas. Then there was Jackson, the first Derek had turned… and then abandoned to a horrible fate. A very strained relationship, even though Jackson had joined the pack.

Peter knew Derek was doing the best he could, he knew Derek was trying. And part of Peter did feel for his nephew, the part from before the fire, the uncle who had always been there for Derek, the beta of the Hale Pack who'd seen the wide-eyed kid trailing after his Alpha mom. Derek was never meant to be an Alpha and the way he had become Alpha was warped and twisted too. Killing his uncle, after his uncle had killed his sister. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Lydia and Stiles were the first ones to enter the house after Allison opened the door. Lydia immediately linking fingers with her best friend. She made her alliance quite obvious, even if her mate was part of the Hale Pack, she was not going to join the pack without Lydia. A similar sense of loyalty as Stiles'. Peter wondered if an Argent could, or would, ever join the Hale Pack.

"Come," Chris spoke gruffly, leading the way to the garage.

He looked supremely annoyed and Peter got some sense of delight from that. Annoying an Argent. What could he say, he had to find joy in the small things in life, since he was no longer allowed to kill Argents. The three aggressors, the ones that had personally hurt the Hale Pack, were dead. His instincts had wanted them all dead, blind rage still gripping him even with his clearer mind. Once again, it boiled down to Stiles. Chris had gotten Stiles home when the hunters had let him go and then he'd returned and freed Boyd and Erica too. That bought him a lot of leeway with Peter right now. Allison, Peter wasn't a big fan of, too easily influenced by her murderous family, so quick to flip on the wolves and hurt them. However, she was Scott's mate so killing her would upset Scott – which, in itself, wasn't the problem, but an upset Scott would upset Stiles.

"I set a target up for you," Chris side-eyed Stiles warily. "But before I let you shoot anything, you're going to show me that you know your way around a gun. Take it apart."

He motioned at the table where a gun was laying. Peter had no idea about guns but it looked average to him. Together with the rest of the pack, as well as Allison, Scott and Lydia, did Peter stand there, watching. Was he the only one in the room who had confidence in his boy? Did they really all come to watch Stiles flail and fail? Pathetic.

"You don't have to be here, Scotty," Stiles spoke softly as he sat down on the chair.

"What is the problem anyway?" Jackson asked, motioning between them. "I have never seen you two disagree I thought you shared a brain-cell, that Stilinski usually has custody over."

Stiles snorted and flipped him off, but he didn't answer. He just looked inquisitively at Scott. The other boy shifted a bit nervously, looking very uncomfortable. In the end, he nodded reluctantly.

"Scott's father is an FBI agent," Stiles replied, his gaze on the gun. "We were… small. Playing around. Sure, Rafael kept the gun in his gun safe. But c'mon. If you use your son's birthday as your code, of course is his best friend going to crack that safe. We were both kids of law-enforcement so of course did we want to play cops and robbers."

Something on Stiles' face twisted and he grabbed his shirt, pulling it up to show a scar on his stomach. "We were five. We had no idea what we were doing, or that the gun was real."

There were gasps and Peter couldn't help the growl. Chris next to him shot him a sharp look at it.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Scott sounded small and miserable and looked so unfathomably guilty that even Peter felt the need to comfort the pup. "I shot my best friend. And… And Stiles nearly…" Scott choked on air and shook his head. "I hate guns."

Stiles pushed his shirt down again and sighed. "You do. But I don't. Because after that day, my dad made it his mission to make sure this never happens again. He taught me to respect a gun, to take care of it and once I hit thirteen, he started teaching me how to shoot."

With that, he sat down in front of the gun, taking it into his hand with a small grin, his eyes landing on Chris. "You want me to take it apart to earn shooting it? I could do that with my eyes blindfolded. Well. Actually. Why not."

The small grin turned into something wicked and cocky as Stiles held direct eye-contact with Chris while his nimble, long fingers took the gun apart and placed all individual parts neatly next to each other. Peter stood right next to Chris, the hunter staying more away from the pack, so Peter was most likely the only one in the room who could smell the sudden and intense spike in arousal coming off the other man. Peter's gaze snapped over to Chris, eyes intense, sharp and vicious. A snarl formed on his face, before he saw the look on Chris'. The hunter looked as surprised as Peter felt. Mh. Interesting. So the prim and proper hunter, the loving father and grieving widower, wasn't all that, after all. It would be amusing if it wasn't aimed at Peter's boy.

"Now put it back together again," Chris ordered, voice and eyes firm.

His arms were crossed over his chest, drawing attention to his bulging biceps and the way his shirt spanned over his chest. Peter didn't have to like the man to appreciate the view. But his attention was needed elsewhere. He needed to see those elegant fingers work again. It took him a lot of self-control to not flash his eyes in hunger and to not show his own arousal. Born wolves were better at masking their scents and controlling what kind of chemosignals they gave off.

With as much easy and just as quickly did Stiles put the gun together again. "Satisfied?"

"And a little turned on," Erica said, fanning herself. "Damn, Batman. You do have a secret identity."

Her mate next to her didn't seem jealous, he just huffed out an amused grunt, looking impressed and nearly fond. The bond those three had forged deeply fascinated Peter, because it was the first time he got to see proper pack-bonds ever since the fire. Which was only more intriguing due to the fact that Stiles wasn't even pack, technically. A technicality Peter was set to change.

"Prove that you also know how to use it," Chris instructed.

There was a target set up and a set of ear-muffs and protection glasses laid out. Stiles looked utterly pleased with himself, and that look suited the boy, as he got ready and grabbed the gun. Peter's eyes wandered to Scott for only a moment. His inner wolf found itself worried for the pup. The thought of accidentally nearly killing your pack-mate, your brother, and as small, defenseless children, it stirred something in Peter that he hadn't felt in many years. He could feel the side of himself that used to be a good uncle, that used to care for the pups and protect them. But Scott seemed okay, where he was standing by Allison's side, his mate providing him the comfort and support

Peter stepped closer to Chris, who had subconsciously – or maybe even intentionally – taken more steps away from the pack. Oh no, that wouldn't do. Peter was going to watch like a hawk. Or rather, smell like a wolf, because his eyes were needed on his boy.

And what a view. Stiles looked so comfortable and at ease as he aimed the gun at the target. He took three shots, before he put the safety back on and laid the gun down on the table. The coil of arousal from Chris was even more intense this time, when they looked at the target. One through the heart, one right between the eyes, and the third directly through the throat. Vicious little vixen.

Was it possible to fall even harder for the boy? The murderous intend, the capability. He'd found everything about Stiles appealing already, but he hadn't been sure how far Stiles was willing to go. Sure, he'd killed Peter, but that had not been planned, it'd happened in the moment. This? This showed that Stiles was willing to aim to kill. And it made Peter's wolf purr in delight.

"Well, Mister Argent, do we have a deal?"

Only Stiles could make a respectful address sound this mocking. Peter smirked pleased, watching how satisfied with himself the boy was. Yes, this look did suit him. Sure of himself, of his abilities.

"We have a deal," Chris heaved a tired, defeated sigh.

"What," Isaac sounded surprised. "I mean, I saw him do all that too, but I still didn't think you would give bullets to a minor, to be honest."

"I'm going to do more than that," Chris ground out as he went to grab a couple boxes of bullets to place them in front of Stiles. "Keep the gun, Stiles."

"What," Stiles raised both his eyebrows. "I told you-"

"That you would steal a gun out of your family safe that your father knows about. The last thing we need is for anything to be traced back to your father and you ending up in foster care because they blame your dad for your access to a gun," Chris' voice was firm, not leaving room for an argument. "Keep the gun, Stiles. It can't be traced back, not even to me."

"You're giving a gun to a minor," Peter sounded more amused than surprised.

"Stiles is right," Chris said this and Stiles looked so pleased and smug at it. "Out of everyone here, most have claws, fangs and super-healing. Me and Allison, we have our training and our weapons. Stiles and Lydia are the most vulnerable and the most defenseless. If Stiles actually knows what he's doing and knows to take it seriously, I don't see why he shouldn't have a gun to protect himself even when there are no wolves around to protect him."

"Which, actually, brings me to my second request," Stiles aimed a shit-eating grin at Chris. "I need you to teach Lydia how to defend herself so she never gets mauled by an Alpha again."

Ouch. Low blow. Peter tried not to bristle. It was a fair low blow, but still.

"Done," Chris shrugged. "She's Allison's best friend. She's an innocent. I'm not against teaching you to defend yourself. However, you're going to be a part of that too, Stiles. You won't always have your gun at hand, you won't always be in a good position to shoot. You need to be able to defend yourself without your gun too."

"Not going to protest to that," Stiles smiled, more genuine this time.

/break\

They were on their way back from the Argents together, walking slowly. Stiles knew how sensitive Scott was about guns and he got it, he really did. He had the scar to prove it, after all. But things had gone too far. He'd tried, he really had, for Scott's sake. And then he got kidnapped and tortured and had to see his pack – his friends – tortured alongside him. He would not be put into that position again. He refused to be helpless, to be useless, ever again.

"I'm sorry, Scotty," Stiles sighed. "I wish there was a better method, but there isn't. What else am I supposed to do? Try and fight Alpha wolves with, what, a baseball bat?"

He snorted and Scott sighed. "No. I… I do get it. I want you safe too, dude. You're my best friend. When you… after you… I got really scared when you told me what happened."

Stiles gently bumped his shoulder against Scott's, trying to sooth the young wolf. Still, Scott kept giving him side-eye looks like there was more he wanted to say. Stiles could wait.

"You smelt like grief and regret, at the meeting, when you brought up that I owe you for getting us kicked out of the pack," Scott spoke evenly, like he was trying to sound serious. "I thought… I didn't think that you cared. When we joined the pack, I suggested it and you followed along and I only did it because Gerard forced me by threatening my mom and I didn't want to, I didn't want to stay, so I left. And I just assumed that you felt the same way. But you don't. Why not?"

Stiles stumbled a little at that, staring at his best friend in surprise. This wasn't the first time they talked about the Hale Pack, but usually Scott's voice was a frustrated whine and there was pure stubbornness in his eyes. This was the first time Scott asked with genuine interest and with a look in his eyes that showed he was paying real attention. He actually wanted to know.

"Derek has saved my life multiple time in the past year," Stiles started slowly. "When I couldn't reach you because you were on a date with Allison – don't look so hurt, I'm not saying it to hurt you, I'm stating a fact, this is what happened and we can't change the past – he was always there. He came and saved my ass when nobody else did. I trust him."

A pause, Stiles took a deep breath. "And you should too. You say you only joined his pack because you got forced to, but Derek accepted you into his pack willingly. When we were at the rave, when he heard you were in distress – when you called for your Alpha – he came running. And he saved your life, without hesitation. Without Derek, you would be dead now. Even before that. Sure, he was… not as forthcoming as he could have been, but he has been helping us with all of this, he's tried to protect Allison from you back during your first full moon, to make sure you don't hurt the girl you love, even though that girl is an Argent. He didn't have to do that, but he did."

Scott looked nearly uncomfortable, staring at the pavement beneath their feet as they walked. "I… I guess you're not wrong with that. He just… pisses me off so much. You say he could be more forthcoming but he has put us in danger with his lack of communication."

"Oh, he pisses me off all the time, if I physically could, I absolutely would punch his smug face twice a day," Stiles snorted amused. "Doesn't mean I don't trust him with my life though."

"But the betas-" Scott started to argue.

"You are literally spending nearly as much time with Isaac as you are with me," Stiles pointed out dryly. "And don't wince, you know I'm right. You've grown attached. I don't mind, he's a bit of a bastard, I find that charming. But what Boyd, Erica and I… What we went through. Nobody else will ever understand it, not really, because nobody else was in that damn basement with us. It… I can't explain this to you, Scott, and I'm honestly a little glad you don't understand it. You don't understand it because you haven't had to experience this kind of trauma bond and I hope you never will. But yeah. We have shared a trauma and it… brought us closer."

Scott heaved a frustrated sigh, nearly defeated. "There's Jackson and Peter too."

"They're different now," Stiles offered a half-shrug. "Jackson… Fuck. What he's just been through? I don't like the guy but I feel awful for him. I wouldn't want to have to go through that, being robbed of my autonomy, having someone else puppeteer my body, using me to kill? That's terrifying, Scott. And I think it changed him. It, and the isolation from it, changed him. He'd not exactly nice and friendly, but he's not been hurling insults. Besides, the whole… the reason why he became the kanima is because he didn't feel like he belonged and… doesn't that hit you too? We were both always lonely and outcasts, but we had each other. Jackson, who seemed to have everything, including the gorgeous gay best friend and the gorgeous girlfriend, was still so unfathomably lonely that he didn't turn into a wolf. Doesn't that fuck you up too?"

"...Yeah, it does," Scott admitted after a moment, voice soft.

"Peter's changed too," Stiles continued, more careful this time. "He was feral. When he turned you, he was fully feral. He'd been isolated and packless for six years. Derek showed you an omega, didn't he? Peter was an omega. Only that it was even worse because he was locked into his own body. And all that after he watched his family burn alive. I can't imagine what I would be like after that. And I'm not a werewolf. That doesn't excuse what he did to you, but it explains it. And he's changed, dying… I don't know, but it was like a reset, like it helped him heal."

"So you… really wouldn't mind? Being in a pack with him, and with Jackson? With them all?"

"Mind's the wrong word," Stiles tilted his head. "I liked being part of the pack. There was this… pull. When we were at that rave, I… I could do something I've never done before. And when I was working with Erica and Isaac inside, we worked together well, they listened to me, they respected me, I felt protective of them in a way that… was natural. Instinctual. I liked who I was when I was part of the pack. And I like them. Flaws and bullshit and asshole behavior and all. Fuck, who am I to judge. I'm a flawed asshole full of bullshit myself."

Silence stretched on between them, Scott's eyes intense on him. They were also thoughtful though. Because he'd really listened to what Stiles was saying and Stiles appreciated that.

/break\

Stiles entered his bedroom and nearly had a heart-attack when he noticed the glowering, glaring Alpha wolf in the corner of the room. Yelling loudly, he flailed and grasped his heart, while landing on his bed. Derek didn't even twist, just continued glaring.

"Fuck," Stiles gasped. "Why are you trying to kill me."

"You should have shot me," Derek frowned. "You have a gun with wolfsbane bullets now. When you come home to find a wolf in your bedroom, your instinct has to become to shoot."

"Then your instinct has to become to use the fucking front door," Stiles ground out. "Besides, I literally just got that gun an hour ago, excuse me for not being instantly trigger-happy."

Derek continued glaring at him. Stiles rubbed his face with a sigh and got more comfortable on his bed. Kicking off his shoes, he stared at Derek. Waiting. There usually was a reason for any wolf in his bedroom. Also, there were decidedly too many wolves in his bedroom. At least considering that none of them were having sex with him. Well, he didn't want to have sex with half of them. Boyd and Erica meant too much on a different level to him, Scott was literally his brother. But Stiles has had a crush on Jackson since he had developed his crush on Lydia and hate-sex was supposed to be really good, while Derek and Peter both appealed to his liking-older-guys thing that he was steadily developing, plus, ridiculously smoking hot, these Hale genes were unreal. He didn't have an opinion on Isaac either way, if he was being honest. Maybe a little making out?

"Stop being horny, Stiles, it makes it really hard to try and have a serious conversation with you."

A grin spread over Stiles' lips and shrugged. "Dude, you broke into a teenager's bedroom. You don't get to tell the teenager not to be horny in his own bed. Wait, serious conversation?"

"I heard what you and Scott were talking about after we all left the Argents," Derek admitted.

"Oh," Stiles couldn't help the faint, embarrassed blush. "Listen, don't take it the wrong way, okay?"

"I don't think there is a wrong way to take this," Derek's eyebrows did something complicated and he stared at Stiles so intensely. "You didn't know what Scott was planning. It's been bothering me, when you said it at the loft yesterday. That's why I followed you earlier, because I wanted to talk to you about it. You didn't know. I assumed…"

"Yeah, well," Stiles huffed and propped himself up. "Common misconception is that Stiles and Scott are one person but we are, in fact, two separate entities who, at times, make different decisions and choices. He made his choice. I didn't get a choice."

Derek looked at him, long and honest. "Stiles-"

"No, nope," Stiles interrupted him right away, holding a hand up. "Don't ask me. Please don't ask me. Because if you ask me, I'll say yes and… I can't say yes, not without Scott. I can't leave him all alone, Derek. I can't make that choice. I can't choose to abandon him."

To his surprise did Derek simply nod. The Alpha even looked as though he understood. Maybe he did. What Scott and Stiles had, it was a pack-bond. And he couldn't betray it. Still, Stiles couldn't help but smile a little at the fact that Derek would have offered.

"If I can make him see reason…" Stiles faltered. "You don't have to. You don't owe it to him. What he did to you was… it was really fucked up. I don't think he realized just how fucked up it was, he didn't think that far ahead. That's not an excuse-"

"It's an explanation," Derek finished with mild bemusement. "You're good at these. Explanations."

"I'm good at a lot of things," Stiles offered a crooked grin. "It's about time people realize."

"I would," Derek offered after a moment. "I was listening to you both. And I didn't just hear your side. I also heard the way Scott was listening to you. If you manage to explain to him what it means to be pack, if he'll come to me and mean it… I would accept him back. Both of you back."

Stiles swallowed hard and nodded. But when the Alpha turned around to leave, Stiles stopped him.

"You need to bond your pack," Stiles told him, seriously. "It's frayed. Jackson doesn't have a place in it yet, it's the three Musketeers vs him. Boyd and Erica still don't fully trust you. And you're losing Isaac's loyalty more and more with every day. Peter is… Peter. You need to… invest into pack-bonding time, you need to make them a united front. Because a frayed pack is easy to pick apart. Don't let the Alpha Pack pick your pups off one by one."

Derek hesitated at the window-sill, hand on the window, not looking at him. "I… don't know how."

Stiles couldn't fight the small smile. Not even mocking or teasing this time, just genuine. "Do something with them. Something fun. Not training. A project, a trip, pack-nights."

"Pack-nights," Derek echoed, sounding nostalgic. "I… could do that."

The small smile turned into a broad grin. "Can't wait for the first pack-night I get to join."

/break\

Chris ground his teeth together when Peter Hale sauntered into his house like owned the place. The wolf was followed by the beta pups. If Chris wasn't so surprised, he would have stopped them.

"They need to learn how to fight," Peter offered. "I can teach them how to fight like a wolf, but we are fighting wolves. So they need to learn how to fight against a wolf. Our glorious Alpha told me to drop the children off at class, teacher."

Frowning, Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. It made sense. He hated that it made sense. Stiles and Lydia were already here, sitting together with Allison and Scott – who had come as moral support for Stiles and also to sneak some time with Allison, much to Chris' frustration.

"Backyard," Chris instructed in frustration.

Trained wolves were safer for him than untrained pups. It was, mostly, the Peter Hale that bothered him. The man had spent all day last Saturday staring at him with such a calculating and smug gaze, because he'd smelt Chris' reaction to Stiles. Chris hadn't seen that coming either. But then competence had always spoken to him. It was a common ground he'd found with Victoria too. Even if no romantic or sexual attraction, he had admired her competence, skill and ruthlessness.

"Okay. You guys are going to pair up," Chris regarded his 'students'. "Stiles and Jackson. Boyd and Scott. Lydia and Isaac. Erica and Allison. Don't groan at me. We're going to repeatedly switch up partners, when I'm done with you you'll have sparred with everyone in this group. You'll learn each other's bodies, weaknesses and strengths. This will aid you in fighting side by side too. You'll learn to rely on each other. Hale, you're with me."

Peter looked genuinely surprised at that. "I'm just dropping off the pups-"

"No, you're not," Chris shook his head. "I can teach them better by demonstrating and that works better with a partner. I wanted to take Allison, but… they ought to learn how to fight werewolves. You're a werewolf. Besides, why should only I put in the work? Most are your pack."

Displeased and annoyed looked good on Peter. Chris preferred it to smug arrogance. He smirked at the wolf. This was going to be fun and maybe a bit cathartic for the both of them.

/break\

The first time Peter and Chris fucked was when Stiles killed an Alpha with a couple very precise wolfsbane bullets. The two had been dancing around the boy for months at that point, glaring at each other, growing more possessive and protective of Stiles and somehow figuring that they had to protect Stiles from the respective other. Yet at the same time that yearning and that need to keep Stiles safe, they also united Peter and Chris. If something threatened Stiles, those two could fight like one well-oiled machine with deadly efficiency. Turned out they worked the same way in bed too, much to both their pleasure. Stiles had killed an Alpha who'd tried to force Derek into killing Boyd – and everyone knew that Stiles was particularly protective of Boyd and Erica, so he took that twice as personal than any other attack on their pack. It had been the single hottest thing Chris and Peter had ever seen and in lieu of pinning Stiles against the nearest wall and ravishing him, somehow, the two of them ended up in bed together. It was rough, violent, there was no gentleness or soft edge to their touches, pure, raw need to satisfy an urge.

"This…" Chris panted as he rolled over onto his back.

"Was a one time thing and will not happen again, I agree."

It happened six more times before they stopped pretending that it won't happen again.

It happened eight more times after that before they realized that on multiple occasions, they'd slept with each other without Stiles being the one that got them horny. This was considered a problem by both of them, because there was not supposed to be any attraction between them. They were simply trying to compensate for their attraction to Stiles and the need building up in them both.

And that brought Christopher to this moment, laying on his back in his bed, hand on his forehead, staring at the ceiling and contemplating how he'd gotten here, in only a couple months. He got pulled out of those thoughts when Peter rolled out of bed and got up.

"I'll shower first. No shared shower today, darling. Our boy is due in an hour and we would… not be decent if we shared," Peter offered him a wolfish grin. "Get coffee started."

Chris grumbled beneath his breath but he still obeyed. Getting bossed around by Peter Hale in his own home. Where the wolf was feeling far too at home by now. Coffee was ready by the time Peter joined him, hair still a little damp, but properly dressed and awake. The wolf brushed a kiss against Chris' cheek in passing when Chris headed to the bathroom next. These gentle moments were what felt the most jarring. It had all started with rough fucking, more fight than sex really. And now Chris would hold Peter's hand when the wolf got that far off gaze that indicated he was lost in terrible, traumatizing memories. Peter would scent-mark him with a gentleness and frequency he had only had reserved for Stiles. They'd fallen asleep on Chris' couch last Monday and hadn't even gotten to the sex. It was feeling more and more like a real relationship and that terrified Chris.

The cold shower helped Chris focus his thoughts somewhat. When he reentered the kitchen and found Peter comfortably leaning against the counter, drinking his coffee, it made him feel warm. Giving in to the urge, Chris walked over to brush a kiss against Peter's cheek this time, making the wolf smirk a little, but Peter had the decency to not comment on it.

The doorbell rang and within moments, Peter was out of the kitchen to let their boy in. And hadn't that been the biggest giveaway? That Stiles had become their boy, in his mind, no longer his boy.

Every Saturday morning, Stiles came over to the Argent home to work with Peter and Chris on their unified bestiary – a collection of Gerard's personal bestiary (that Stiles, Scott and Allison had apparently stolen before the man's death), Chris' bestiary and the Hale bestiary, as well as any new information they kept gathering from the various books Chris and Peter kept buying. It had been Stiles' idea and both Peter and Chris had leaped at the opportunity to spend time alone with Stiles. On account of nobody else wanting to do research. Even Lydia had given him a displeased look and shook her head, claiming that pack meetings and training sessions were already eating enough of her time, if Stiles wanted to spend what little free time they had in dusty books, that was his choice, she still had a boyfriend and a social life to attend to.

"Morning," Stiles sounded chipper as he followed Peter toward the living room.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Peter purred pleased.

Pack meetings were Sundays, training sessions were Friday after school – and Saturday, Saturday Stiles was all theirs. It had started out with just the morning, a couple hours. But Stiles' ADHD had him dig his teeth into something and made him fully unwilling and unable to let it go until he was done with it. Neither Peter nor Chris were complaining whenever Stiles stayed until sunset, but they did make sure their boy ate in between. Either they'd order in, or Peter would cook something for them. The wolf was, admittedly, a decent enough cook.

Stiles kept giving them looks, until Chris grunted. "You two do know that… if you don't want the pack to know about you, you gotta be more subtle though."

Both froze, Peter the first to regain his voice. "Whatever are you talking about."

Stiles made a show of rolling his eyes. "Please. You two have been fucking for months. But you're getting more… careless. Your hair is literally still wet, Peter."

"Maybe I showered before I came here, Stiles."

"You used Chris' bodywash," Stiles countered with a deadpan.

"You know what Chris' bodywash smells like," Peter raised one eyebrow. "And, for that matter, what my bodywash smells like, if you could tell I didn't use mine."

"Running in a pack of wolves makes you rely more on your senses, "Stiles shrugged. "But yeah. If I can tell, the wolves will be able to tell too. So, either… come out and actually say it, or… get better at hiding it again. Just, a fair warning. You're slipping."

"You… bring your own books," Chris noted, trying desperately to change the topic.

The kind of books they worked with were expensive. Which was why Peter usually bought them, if they needed – or wanted – anything. Stiles plopped down on his spot on the couch and book the five heavy, large books he'd brought with him down onto the table.

"Mh," Stiles tilted his head. "Not technically mine. I, ah, borrowed them."

"...Did you rob a bookstore without me?" Peter actually looked offended. "You know you are supposed to tell me when you commit a crime so I can bring popcorn and watch."

"You're a horrible human being and an even worse influence," Chris said dryly.

"Not a bookstore, would never rob a bookstore," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Stole 'em from Deaton."

"You… just walked out of the vet's clinic with a stack of books as high as you?" Chris asked.

"No," Stiles paused and there was a shift, the snark and joke left his face, he looked near guarded. "I've been… taking them one by one for months now."

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, worrying it until it turned from gentle pink to dark-red. Stiles was distracted enough with his thoughts to not notice but Chris saw the hungry way with which Peter's eyes flashed ice-blue. That mouth had been a topic of discussion many times during sex. It was very inspiring to them both. Chris walked over to sit down opposite Stiles.

"Talk to us," Chris prompted the boy. "You say months. But you bring them here now."

Stiles dragged his lip between his teeth torturously slowly. His knee was bounding, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. Peter made a curious noise in his throat as he took a seat next to Chris.

"There's…" Stiles swallowed hard. "So there's something that I haven't told anyone yet. Not even Scott. I don't… I don't know, I guess saying it feels stupid because what if it's not as big a deal as it feels to me and then whoever I tell will be let down and what If I just-"

"Nothing," Peter interrupted him in a firm voice. "Nothing you tell us could disappoint us, sweetheart. If this is something that's been worrying you for months, then please… tell us."

And oh, Stiles had even gotten a please out of the wolf. Those were rare. Chris was still trying to figure out how to get one in bed. Hadn't found a method yet. Maybe Stiles could.

"I have magic," Stiles blurted out the next moment. "I'm not… I don't know how much or where it came from or what it means or really what I can do but… Yeah. I have magic."

As if to prove it, he lifted a hand and gave a little wave, curling his fingers in one by one. He turned his hand palm up and then unfurled his fingers, revealing a small pile of mountain ash that hadn't been there before. Chris swallowed hard and Peter made a deep, primal sound.

"You're a Spark," Peter pressed out between clenched fangs.

Chris' head whipped around to pin the wolf with a surprised stare. A Spark? He'd heard whispered rumors of them but hunters usually dismissed them as werewolf fairy tales. His attention went back to Stiles and there was something akin to recognition on his face.

"That's what Deaton said," Stiles frowned. "I mean, he said a lot of convoluted things wrapped in a weird metaphor that barely even made sense, but in there somewhere he said that I had to be the spark, that I had to believe and then I could do it. So… So that wasn't just metaphor? That was… That is something? That's… what I am?"

He sounded so small and fragile that it made Chris' heart clench. Stiles, stripped off all cockiness and snark was something so vulnerable and beautiful that Chris wanted to shield him so nobody aside from him and Peter would ever get to see this side of their boy.

"That…" Peter swallowed hard. "That indeed is something."

"And what?" Stiles narrowed his eyes, a defensive edge to his posture. "I made mountain ash appear. Big whoop. But you immediately knew when I did it. Is that, like, the only thing I can do? Are Sparks just… mountain ash dispensers?"

Peter barked out a laugh that startled Stiles into giving him those big, brown doe-eyes. The ones that riled Peter's wolf up, made him want to chase Stiles thorough the forest and then ravish him once he caught his little prey. Chris appreciated the mental image.

"No, Bambi, it's…" Peter shook his head. "Big whoop. You created mountain ash and you say big whoop, like it's not a big deal. You baffle me."

"I mean it's not," Stiles blinked those big eyes at them both. "I literally just did it too. Sure, the first time, I took a couple moments to actually focus and get the hang of it but then it just… appeared."

"Stiles," Chris interjected, voice careful not to spook their boy. "You have magic."

"Yeah, that's…" Stiles frowned. "The whole point of this conversation? Keep up, Christopher."

The boy's sass made Chris grunt in exasperation. "No, Stiles, you have magic. That's what makes you special. Humans don't have magic. Magic is borrowed and bargained for. Witches, druids, mages, they don't have magic. They use nature to filter out its magic by creating potions and rituals, they have to make sacrifices in exchange for magic, use catalysts like spells or runes to access magic. Magic lives in nature, not in people. Humans don't have magic."

"Creating something – anything – out of nothing is… incomprehensible," Peter continued, still staring at Stiles' hand with the mountain ash. "Human magic users have to give something in exchange to get something, to be granted access to the magic inherent in nature. Sparks don't have to do that, because they are magic, they carry magic inside them. They're the only born magic users. You… are… incredibly powerful and rare, sweetheart."

There was a moment of realization, Stiles' eyes widening and his cheeks flushing. "...Oh."

Peter chuckled and shook his head while leaning back against the couch. "Yeah, oh."

Even without being a wolf, Chris could tell the moment Stiles' heart-rate was picking up with anxiety. He's become an expert at reading their boy. Reaching out, he took Stiles' hand, letting the mountain ash fall onto the ground. The physical touch relaxed Stiles a little.

"That motherfucker," Stiles spat, all of a sudden, eyes filled with heat and hatred. "He knew. I have no idea how, or how long, but he knew. And he only told me when it became useful to whatever twisted plans he has, but even then he didn't tell me, he just told me as much as he deemed I needed to know. Fuck, I should have stolen more of his books."

"You can still do that, sweetheart," Peter offered lightly, smiling at their boy. "But how about for now, we focus on the ones you already have? I'm assuming you stole them to learn how to use your magic. And you… came to us…"

Well, on that one, Peter and Chris were equally lost. Stiles had admitted he hadn't even told Scott, so why would he come to them? They exchanged a brief look before focusing on Stiles again.

"Research," Stiles replied, motioning at the books. "Technically also valuable for our project. But even beyond that, we've found a real good groove when it comes to research so I figured…"

"You want our help figuring out what you can do," Peter looked delighted.

Chris grunted his agreement, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let's read up on it first – this is new territory for me too. Hunters… We're taught that Sparks are fairy tale creatures, like unicorns."

It got him a brilliant laugh from Stiles and then the three of them dove into the books.

/break\

The first pack bonding activity that Stiles, Scott and Allison got to join as official pack-members was a trip into the mountains beyond Beacon Hills. It had made Stiles grin smugly at Derek the whole way there, to the point that Stiles was fairly sure the Alpha regretted accepting him into the pack. And yet. All he got was a near fond eye-roll because damn it all to hell, Derek was… Derek was his best friend, after Scott, at this point. He trusted the man wit his life, with the lives of those he loved the most. And Derek had become a good Alpha. A really damn good one.

It had been the abduction of Chris, Melissa and Stiles' dad that had been the tipping point for Allison and Scott. Derek had gone against his girlfriend – and oh boy, more trauma for the poor guy, what did Derek do to not deserve a happy relationship just once – when she'd turned out to be the darach. He hadn't doubted Stiles, not for a second, had sided with Stiles, Allison and Scott against her with no hesitation and if not for him, and Peter, they may not have found their parents in time. That was the final straw that both Allison and Scott needed to realize that Derek was a good Alpha, that it was good to be in his pack, that it was a place they should want to be in.

Apparently, the Hale Pack still owned a lodge, on the other side of the mountain, nearer to the next town over than to Beacon Hills, really. Gorgeous view down the mountain and to the lake that gave their neighboring town its name. It was breathtaking, it was special and Stiles knew it was all to celebrate the newest members of the Hale Pack because the big, grumpy Alpha was just a big, soft marshmallow on the inside, full of mush and love for his pack.

He smiled softly as he looked out the window and at the silver glistening lake. The mountain wasn't inhabited, the next lodge or cabin was over an hour away and wasn't a permanent residence either. Which meant the wolves could run and how freely, the wolves and hunters could hunt. They'd had deer for dinner today, hunted by them all together. Lydia had not been pleased by the dead animals being dragged into their temporary home, so Stiles had sent her out before grabbing a butcher's knife with glee. Some of the betas were a little disturbed by it, but he once again held Peter and Chris' full and undivided attention as he took the animals apart, with Chris' help (which did worry Stiles because he thought Chris' attention should be on the butcher knife in his own hand while taking apart their dinner, not on Stiles). It had been an absolute blast.

Voices, hushed and filled with joy and teasing, drew his attention to two people coming down the stairs. Raising an eyebrow, Stiles watched how Chris and Peter stumbled into the kitchen and, a few minutes later, came out with… the can of whipped cream in Peter's hand.

"Well, I guess I don't have to ask why you are still awake," Stiles stated dryly.

They'd come out as a couple to the whole pack a few weeks ago. It had been cute how nervous Chris was about Allison's reaction, just for her to roll her eyes and declare she'd known for two months and figured they just had a mutual agreement to ignore the werewolf sneaking out of the other's bedroom (which had caused Scott to yelp and flush embarrassed). The couple froze, both staring at him much like the deer had when their group had cornered them. It was cute and very flattering for Stiles that he could put that expression on a hunter and a werewolf. Delightful.

"Sweetheart, why are you still awake," Peter asked startled.

Stiles shrugged and turned back toward his laptop. They, of course, didn't accept that answer. They walked over to him, Christ resting a heavy, large hand on Stiles' shoulder, causing him to take a shuddering breath through his nose. Damn them both.

"Okay, but if this traumatizes you, do remember that you insisted," Stiles tilted his head back to look up at Chris. "I have been sexiled by my roommate and your daughter."

They were all paired up, two sharing a room. Chris and Peter had been the only couple allowed to share because they were adults and them and Derek refused to spend a week in a house where three horny teen couples were going at it like bunnies. So Stiles had, naturally, paired up with Scott, Lydia with Allison of course, Erica with Cora, Boyd with Jackson and Isaac with Derek.

"Retrospectively, I should have seen this coming and should have called dibs on Derek," Stiles glowered. "Let Isaac deal with Scott and Allison. Or better yet Jackson. They could have just switched rooms with their partners instead of having to throw one of us poor, pathetic singles out."

The two men exchanged a couple looks that must have spoken volumes to them but meant nothing to Stiles yet. Their couple language, Stiles was still working on deciphering. It was thrilling.

"Up," Peter ordered, grabbing Stiles' upper arm and hauling him off the chair.

"Woah, hey, I thought we were past the kidnapping-Stiles-phase of our relationship, Peter!"

Peter simply rolled his eyes at him, pulling him along. "You're not going to sleep down here. You're coming with us, you can stay in our room."

"Why, are you inviting me to a threesome?" Stiles gave him an impish, shit-eating grin.

Mischief danced in his eyes even though it was what he wanted most in probably the whole damn world. His heart squeezed a little. He'd spent months flirting with them both, even before they got together. And then they did get together. How bad must he suck at seduction that the two men he was flirting with ended up together, with each other, instead of either of them with him…?

"To sleep," Chris heaved a deep, exasperated sigh. "We won't let you sleep at the table. And don't deny you would. I have seen you sleep sitting upright at my own damn kitchen table."

"First of all, that only happened once, secondly, I didn't have coffee yet, and thirdly it was like five AM after a research binge," Stiles defended himself with a flustered glare, before calming down a little. "Look. I appreciate the offer, but I'll be fine. You were clearly not going to bed to sleep and I don't want to ruin your night. I'll be fine. Stop glaring at me, Christopher. If you're so insistent about me sleeping in a 'bed', I'll crash with Der and Isaac! Heck, wouldn't even be the first time I'd lseep in the same bed as either of them."

Stiles stumbled right into Peter when the wolf suddenly stilled. "What."

Blinking confused, Stiles stared at him. "Isaac's been like breaking into my bedroom for months now. We… We ran into each other at the cemetery, when we were both visiting our moms and… Yeah. He's been crashing at my place whenever he misses her too much."

The sharp look on Chris' face softened so unfathomably much that it took Stiles' breath away. Next to him Peter didn't look entirely satisfied just yet though, his eyes remained narrowed.

"And Derek. My grown, adult nephew," Peter inquired.

One unimpressed eyebrow cocked did Stiles look him dead in the eye. "We fuck like animals."

Holy shit. Stiles jumped and nearly hit his head against the wall at the near feral growl ripping from Peter's throat. What the fuck. Grasping his heart, Stiles tried to calm down.

"God. Damn. It. Hale," Stiles hissed. "The fuck was that. I was mocking you! For making weird insinuations about me and our Alpha! Christ! I kept falling asleep at the loft after research binges during the week and at one point, he started taking pity on me on his couch so he let me crash in his bed. It's not like it's weird, we're literally pack? What even was that reaction. You nearly act like you're jea…" Stiles blinked repeatedly at the way Peter tensed up. "A… Are you jealous?"

Peter actually flinched a little at that and what. Stiles' eyes flew over to Chris who looked conflicted but not… disgusted or appalled. So he'd known about this. Whatever 'this' was. Shaking his head, Stiles grabbed them both by their wrists and dragged them over to their bedroom, shutting the door behind them and pinning them both with a withering glare.

"Are you actually fucking kidding me?" Stiles spat irritated.

This time, Peter flinched properly. And okay. Not a reaction he ever thought he'd have on any wolf. Both Peter and Chris looked at him like… Wait. Closing his eyes, Stiles took a slow, deep breath to calm down a little, and then he looked at them again and yep. They looked like he held all of the power in the room, like they expected him to hurt them. They were expecting a painful rejection.

"You are two of the smartest men I know, how can you be this dense and stupid?" Stiles whispered, utterly exasperated as he leaned against the closed door. "I have been flirting with you two for months now, even before you got together, but none of you ever acted on it and I started to think that Chris was just politely pretending he didn't notice to not have to explicitly let me down while Peter just… flirts like other people breath air so he didn't notice."

"You… what?" Chris' voice cracked a little.

"I wasn't being subtle!" Stiles yelped, throwing his hands up in the air. "I took apart a gun while intentionally making direct eye-contact with you, did you think that was a platonic thing? I could not have been less subtle if I…" Stiles snorted out a laugh. "I was about to say 'if I crawled into your laps', but I literally actually did that, damn it. What did you think that meant? Did that look or feel in any way No Homo to you? That was All The Homo, damn it."

"I mean… You… have been seeking more physical contact with the whole pack," Peter argued. "You just said that it wasn't weird that you slept in the same bed as Derek!"

"Because it wasn't," Stiles frowned at him like he was stupid (because he was actively being stupid here). "The act of just sleeping in a bed together is in no way romantic or sexual? I used to crawl into my parents' beds all the time as a kid. When Scott was over for sleepovers we slept in my bed together until we got too big to both fit in them. Sleeping isn't sexual, Creeperwolf. But there is… very little platonic angle to crawling into someone's lap and wrapping your legs around their waist."

Stiles gave Peter the most pointed glare he could muster even as he started to feel incredibly exhausted. He hadn't thought they were too dense to notice. He really, truly had not been subtle. Both men stared at him in utter bafflement, like this was a fully new revelation to them.

"I thought you were just being clingy," Peter sounded like a pouting child. "I didn't want to assume. You are too precious to us to push you away by making greedy, wrong assumptions."

Stiles' heart jumped into his throat at the sincerity in Peter's voice. "What."

"Stiles," Chris huffed out a sound that was close to a laugh. "The reason why Peter and I even got together in the first place was because you were driving us both wild with desire. And we were the only ones who knew about what the other wanted. We were… united in our want for you. Granted, it did escalate from thereon out into something that wasn't… inherently about you anymore."

His eyes drifted over to Peter and his look was so loving and gentle that it caused the wolf to make a soft sound. Oh. Stiles swallowed hard, unsure what to do with this information.

"Why did you never say anything?" Stiles asked desperately. "I mean, fuck, I know why I didn't say it! You're the dad of one of my best friends. I didn't need to make things awkward if you weren't picking up what I was putting down. I didn't want to say the words because I didn't want to hear you say that you're 'flattered but you're just too young for us, kiddo'."

And he spat the word 'kiddo' out like it was poison. He knew, okay. He knew he was seventeen and they were more than twice his age and he didn't need to feel patronized about his feelings.

"You could have considered that your age might be why we didn't say anything either," Chris offered, raising both his eyebrows. "You're younger than my daughter, Stiles. Do you not think I spent months feeling guilty and wrecked and wrong for how much I want you?"

Stiles swallowed hard, again, his eyes going to Peter, who just shrugged. "Oh, I don't have morals. That wasn't my issue. You killed me, sweetheart, and I kept trying to seize just how much of your trust and affection I could gather in that time and how much you still resented me for what I did to Scott, and to Lydia. You are terrifyingly good at compartmentalizing. You can work with people you dislike, you worked with Jackson when you still resented him, so it's hard to… get a read on you."

"Oh," Stiles furrowed his brows. "Those… Those are both good arguments, I guess."

He crossed his arms over his chest. Not looking at them. He had no idea what would come next. What could come next. All of a sudden, he felt raw and vulnerable, naked in front of them. It was all out in the open now. What he wanted. What they wanted. And he didn't know what to do and it was quickly making his anxiety rise, his thoughts spiraling.

"Stiles," Chris' voice cut in, a careful hand touching his arm. "Hey. Stay with us, doll."

Doll. Stiles gave a genuine, involuntary whine at the nickname. Holy shit. Like Peter's constant sweetheart and Bambi didn't already get to him. The latter more so than the first though. He flushed embarrassed by the noise he'd just made. The look Chris gave him was pure hunger.

"I, uh, think like that pet-name," Stiles offered with a half-shrug.

"I think we could both tell," Peter snorted out an amused laugh.

Stiles flipped him off with a glare. "So. Are we… What is this now?"

"We want you," Chris spoke, voice honest and warm. "If you'll have us. Though…"

"Though we should maybe not go on public dates until I'm eighteen because every deputy in this town looks at me as either their kid brother or their surrogate son," Stiles raised his eyebrows.

"And you would be fine with that?" Peter frowned concerned. "Hiding? Lying to your father?"

"Didn't say my dad," Stiles tilted his head. "We have an agreement. When I lied to him, it… broke our relationship and it nearly got him killed. So we have an agreement now. Where I tell him the truth, all the truth, regardless of what it's about, and he, in return, doesn't judge or hold it against me, because otherwise I can't keep being honest with him and he can't… go on with me lying. So. He is not going to be the biggest fan of this, but he's also not going to kill you for sport. Well. Unless you break my heart, of course, so… just don't do that."

He offered the smallest, most teasing smile to them, filled with mischief and joy. And then he took a step forward, toward them, with all the intend he could muster and all the confidence he wasn't quite sure he had. He rested a hand on Peter's chest and one on Chris' chest and then he leaned in. First, to press a gentle kiss to Peter's lips and, just as the wolf wanted to deepen the kiss, he pulled away to instead also kiss Chris. Both growled at him after the kisses.

"That's teasing, sweetheart, I'm sure we can do better," Peter's eyes flashed blue.

Before Stiles could even open his mouth, he was pulled into a kiss deeper and more filthy than anything he could have imagined. It left him panting and gasping, mouth open and dizzy. He wasn't given a chance to regain his bearings because Chris' hand in the back of his head pulled him into the next kiss. Much less filthy but no less hot. Chris was dominant even in his kisses, strict. It made Stiles moan into the kiss, fingers curling into Chris' shirt.

"Okay," Stiles forced out once he could breath again. "Definitely gonna be doing more of that."

"Yes?" Peter grinned, nearly a leer, his hand gently tracing over Stiles' chest.

Stiles caught it at his naval. "Not now. First of all, I am so not losing my virginity while my best friend is literally two rooms over. Second of all, I'm not that easy or desperate. You guys gotta put a little effort in before I put out. I demand to be romanced first."

There was a near feral sound from Peter at the word 'virginity' and Chris' eyes also darkened, but to their credit, neither of them touched him or tried to change his mind. Instead, Chris looked amused.

"We're not going to pressure you into anything, sweetheart," Peter assured him, sounding more honest and serious than Stiles had maybe ever heard him. "We've both waited long for you now and we're more than happy to take everything at your pace."

"Okay," Stiles nodded pleased, even though he hadn't expected anything else. "Good. So. Bed? That offer still standing or do I have to go knocking on Dere-"

Peter growled and grabbed him by the waist, dragging him to the bed before he could even finish the sentence. Okay so Peter was seriously jealous of Derek. Stiles may or may not have to use that to his advantage – provided, of course, that Derek would be fine playing along (and considering what an absolute little shit Derek could be when he wanted to be and how much he delighted in tormenting his uncle, Stiles saw a good chance of it).

"Jealous wolf," Stiles muttered, slapping Peter's chest lightly.

"Yes," Peter grunted, a glare on his face and his arms around Stiles' waist, tugging him close.

"You have no idea, doll," Chris chuckled amused.

"If anyone, anyone, ever touches you in the wrong way, I will tear them apart."

There wasn't a word for the emotion that Stiles felt at this declaration. Hurt, pain, anger, grief and fear all twisted into the face of Gerard Argent and for a second, Stiles couldn't breath at the memories. And then he imagined Peter tearing the man apart and all that was left when all the dark emotions were torn asunder was warmth. Blinking away tears, Stiles leaned in and placed the most gentle kiss on Peter's lips. He was strong. He could fight, now, he had his gun, he had his magic. But a part of him would forever be that helpless kid getting tortured in that basement.

"We know you can protect yourself, Stiles," Chris noted softly. "But we'd still like to protect you."

A small smile spread over Stiles' lips as he turned toward the hunter and he could see by the conflicted look on Chris' face that he knew exactly where Stiles just went in his mind. So Stiles also pressed a loving kiss to Chris' lips, conveying without words that he didn't blame Chris for it.

"How about," Stiles spoke gently as he snuggled in between them. "We protect each other?"

"Yeah," Chris smiled a little. "I think we could do that, doll."

~*~ The End ~*~

[dracobrooklyn]

141!Monster x Reader AU Masterlist

Huge HUUUUUUUGE Credit goes @bluegiragi who gave me permission to use the idea of the monster forms they let me use for the x Reader! Their art is fantastic and I highly recommend you check them out!! Note: this will NOT be connected to their comics or stories they have created, for the respect of their content so readers won't get confused, I am only using the monster forms and making my own headcannons. || MDNI || 18+, these mini stories very much will have adult themes and also will have Smut, Violence, Language, and Dark Themes. You have been warned. This is also a Fem!POV for the Reader just a heads up! Requests: Closed Asks: Closed

Summary: You are the Nurse/Doctor to the Task force 141 the case of 4 strong cryptic gentleman that have inhuman abilities. It's your job to make sure they are in check with their health, check their vitals, and make sure they are home safe. It takes a toll on them doing what they do. Perhaps you will grow closer to them... maybe even more than that.

Note: This is will not be a Poly x Reader BUT I am thinking about making small one shots with Poly stuff cause the ideas are cute in my head. These will be in different POV with the Reader, depending who your favorite is, or you just want to experience them all.

John Price: A Green Fire breathing Dragon, and the Captain of the group. Under those green rough scales is a man who craves to have companionship, but he's not gonna tell you that, Dragons have plenty of secrets.

Masterlist: WIP

Ask's: None

Headcannons: None

Simon "Ghost" Riley: Lieutenant of task 141. The Dark Shadow Wraith that has a dark secret beneath his gift, will you be the light to his Darkness?

Masterlist: WIP

Ask's: None

Headcannons: None

John "Soap" MacTavish: Sargent of the Task 141, did we also mention he is also a werewolf. His cocky attitude with his loyal personality could warm your heart, but he has a little trouble controlling his wolf form... in many different ways. You could possibly teach an old dog new tricks.

Masterlist: WIP

Ask's: None

Headcannons: None

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Also a Sargent of Task 141. Known as the Harpy of the group. The man having a wide wing span of an eagle and very much in tune with his gifts, probably a little cocky thinks he can take on the world from the high skies. Maybe you can keep him grounded, and keep his head out of the clouds.

Masterlist: WIP

Ask's: None Headcannons: None

[hiuythn]

"What do you think are x and y’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?"

So, just found this kinda ask for various ships, I was thinking to ask you (one of my all time fav fics writer), if you don't mind and have free time, of course.

For your fav ships: Iwaoi, Klance, Kiribaku, Ranwan or Bingqiu (feel free to pick whichever you want to answer). 🌻🌷

I pick them all because Im physically incapable of shutting up:

iwaoi: greatest strengths gotta be their hard work, passion and drive. they're extraordinary in their mundanity, not to say their story is more boring compared to others, it's just more grounded in reality. they're good role models (despite oikawa constantly being voted no.1 anime villain of all time). individually, iwaizumi is just a Dependable Guy and I feel like all his juniors have intense admiration for him. I'm about to wax poetic but I can't seem to find a major weakness for him. if he had some sort of insecurity about not being able to go pro like oikawa (insecurities that are common in friends/rivals like reki/langa or klance), then I'd say that's a weakness, but instead iwaizumi had the sheer manliness to make a whole speech to oikawa on their walk home about how insanely proud he is and how he knows oikawa is gonna make it big. Dude literally is perfect I'm so biased i don't even care. maybe his feet stink or sth, idk.

oikawa on the other hand is so. he's so. he's my favourite little ball of complex emotions, dude feels so much and his desperation is so palpable in everything he does that it makes my molars ache like I'm about to bite down on something. on the surface he's an ikemen flirty guy with an unyielding sense of pride and a competitive streak 50 miles wide. He's the best setter and he knows it—but he also DOESN'T know it. he's so afraid of pausing for one second and getting overtaken by natural geniuses. so he won't stop. he keeps going, keeps eating volleyball up morning midday and night. it's that hunger that makes him such a formidable opponent. like baby you're so hungry I know you want to trample all these players under your feet and i feel like I have an alien infant that I'm panicking and rushing to feed it enough food. like I love him but he scares me a little. but he's also a testament to the indomitable human spirit in the fact that he wasn't gifted the talent that seems so prevalent in the people around him. he's on their level from willpower alone but he's STILL not satisfied. is this a weakness or a strength, is it both, can I even articulate my thoughts about him coherently???

klance: Keith why wasn't the world kinder to you. why did it take your mom and your dad and your brother and why did it trade you all that for your role as a protagonist, when I know you would've been content as a normal kid. Keith was drafted for the spotlight. he's cool, he's red and black, he's scowling and fights with knives and he's resourceful, resilient, he can survive off the land on any planet in any galaxy, he's a (lone) wolf and he's everything you could want in a character who's only concept is "You're strong, you're stronger alone, you're on your own." He's got the adaptability, the tenacity, the mindset, the spit-blood-out-of-my-mouth-and-hit-them-back-harder type thing. he's never relied on anyone to make it another day. isn't he so strong? but how could I laud him for it when it almost led him to self-sacrifice?

thinking back on Lance makes me so irritated. he was such a roiling, lashing tumble of growing pains and teenage insecurities. he has so many things going against him. you could say he was too loud, too joking but I wanted to watch him unravel himself. wanted to see him unspool and knit himself into a bigger tapestry than the show painted him as. isn't he a soldier drafted to a millennia-galaxy-spanning war? why are you telling me his only concern is still girls and romance, when he should be facing death and disappointment every time he gets into his lion and everytime he limps out of it after a battle thinking "am I even suited for this". why didn't I get to see him realize that Keith's strengths aren't his, that they don't NEED to be, that his own disregard for his own skills and constant need to acquire what others have, is what held him back from leaning into what he's good at? he's good at being water he's good at gluing and cooling and directing a blocked stream to find a way past this mountain. he had everything you could want in a right-hand man, had all the pieces laid out right there, but I never got to see it built up to the foundation it could've been.

kiribaku: there is not a single fic I have written about them that isn't obsessed with their flaws and strengths. it's all I think about constantly when it comes to them. how can there be a pairing that clicks together so easily like lock and key? what insightful thing can I saw abt them that I havent already written lyrical about in my fics, they make me so speechless. sometimes I'm afraid to look at kirishima head-on and sometimes I can't help basking in his warmth. he reminds me too much of the terrifying feeling of being left behind, of being mediocre. dont we all remember wanting to make a difference, wanting to stand out? he reminds me of all the things I used to be afraid of, seeing myself in his insecurities and wavering middle school presence, and the way he tries desperately to stuff that past under his bed. and yet, he's so warm. he's such a comfort. it puts me at ease, to see someone so familiar to my own hurts and fears manage to grow past what he used to be, that he could become almost unrecognizable in his brilliance. he's just a kid. he's just a boy, but he grew and cultivated his future self so painstakingly that I can't help but be proud and admire him for it. if you can't be a natural hero, homemade is fine too.

if I were to list all the strengths and weaknesses that bakugou embodies, we'd be stuck here until Luffy finds the One Piece. never have I seen a more baffling character. there's a reason he's been voted no. 1 in every single popularity poll held. he's so complex that sometimes he seems more real than myself. where he used to be callous and derisive, dismissive and self-centered, he's now pensive and self-reflective. he's still ambitious still driven but now he's opened up enough to utilize the connections he's built with others to achieve the best possible outcome, instead of believing that only he is worthy of results. he's lost his blinders, his self-focus, and he's all the better for it. he's not diminished or nicer or sweeter in any way, his sharp tongue and temper are still there, but still you can see that's he's grown so, so much.

ranwan: I want to tear my hair out when I think about chu wanning. surely, I agonize, he's the most pitiful character I know. and then I turn my head and mo ran is right there and then I scream and actually tear my hair out because he's suffered so much too and the thought of both chu wanning and mo ran's combined agony is enough to eclipse the Andromeda Galaxy. chu wanning...do I even need to go into his weaknesses when he already rips himself up for slights only he can perceive? "ugly, old, cold and rigid"??? the only rigid thing are his morals, too upright and sincere for the world he was made into, and nobody likes a nail that can't be hammered down. his sense of duty, his quiet care and attention, his intellect utilized for the common man—am I supposed to take his ascerbic tongue seriously as a weakness when his personal character is so...good? maybe his only fault is that he took every injustice too seriously. that he cared too much too young and when thrown into the world his Shizun didn't prepare him for, he was torn up until he turned cold just to save himself the disappointment. maybe his only fault was being too scared to open his mouth and ask for comfort, to make known his own humanity.

mo ran the world owed you everything and by god you took it. who am I to blame you. let the one without sin cast the first stone and all that. good intentions pave the road to hell and all that. you just wanted save your Shizun from a flower. why did the world take all your sweet consideration for itself, for its rain and its earthworms, and decide to put you in harm's way? you had the mind to thrive, to build a legacy and live well, and it made you turn all those strengths towards scorching the earth anew. you're so strong for trying to protect others, how could I call your mind weak for succumbing to years of induced violence? I can only call you strong for bearing 2 lifetimes of suffering.

bingqiu: Shen Yuan you motherfcker please stop embarrassing yourself stop making jokes when the situation is serious people are going to take you at face value and say you don't care about the people around you. you offer yourself on a platter to your would-be murderer to protect your sect and then die for your murderer to make him happy (???) and you'll call that nothing. you'll put no worth in it while your people cry over your corpse. how are you going to treat them with unrelenting cheer and care, then turn around and assume they'll continue on their predetermined path as novel characters, how could u be so kind and so cruel, to both love them and disregard them like that? how do you manage to not see them at all Shen Yuan do you mean to hurt your loved ones when you don't hold them accountable for their actions, when you don't see their actions as their own but just the will of the system just because they're novel characters because they don't know that they're all scripted Shen Yuan how can you look at these people and their earnest pleading to keep yourself safe and say that they're predetermined cannon fodder Shen Yuan please won't you just look at them for once??

binghe (bing-ge)? well there's nothing wrong with him. don't you know he's the protagonist? don't you know he's unbeatable. he's handsome and strong and smart and merciful and every wrong he commits is just to right a slight made against him. it's only fair. it's only what he was taught. if he can't be given something, he'll just take it. he will take everything he wants. see, if he's kind and sweet, if he sticks to what his mother taught him, if he stays filial and loyal, eager to learn and help—what does that get him? nothing. whether his Shizun whips him or treats him with care, in every world he gets nothing. so he should take it instead, should exchange his steadfast dedication for a relentless pursuit, his painstaking attention to care for a exacting manipulation of every situation. maybe then he'll achieve something worth his suffering. maybe then he'll be able to say that it wasn't him, that the problem wasn't him, that there's nothing wrong with him at all.

[lucigoo]

A pair of scarlet rain boots

So, because I have the attention span of a gnat, instead of writing the wips I have, I wrote my FIRST Witcher fic. So enjoy and let me know what you think (Im hising away casues Ive seen Season 1 of the shos and everything else is from the fandom, whoops.)

Also, I'm a plonker and forgot to add the A03 link, ughh!

Here it is

As always, a snippet:

“The Witcher Princess had a lot of lessons. Her new father had whisked her away to a crumbling castle. One full of broken men who found it hard to find joy in the world. Her new mother was strong and powerful and had no idea how to be soft. How not to train her child to be a weapon. Oh, they loved her, With every part of their souls. They loved her so much they wanted her prepared. They wanted to train her to face every evil the world would throw at her, and trust me, the world threw a lot of shit at her,” Ciri said with a self decrypting huff. “But then, there he was. The White Wolf’s Bard. The one who remembered that the Witcher Princess was still a little girl, growing up with these powerful, wonderful people who hadn’t been fully human for a long time. These wonderful people who loved their little Princess with all their hearts, but had diluted the other human emotions she was feeling deeply. But not him,” she said, having to take deep breaths, so she didn’t sob. “He was human. The only mortal in a life full of immortals and long living folk. And it was obvious, in his every action, how much he loved. How much he loved her, her family, and the world in general. Oh, he wasn’t a fighter, the White Wolf’s Bard, not really. But by Melitele did he fight for me. For my right to be myself. To be a little girl.” “There wasn’t a lot of colour in Kher Morhen Dara, apart from a Bard who dressed like a peacock and a Witcher Princess who had been gifted a pair of scarlet rain boots so she could go jump in the puddles. So she could play and sing and dance in the rain with the Bard laughing in that melodic voice of his. Her parents loved her, protected her, taught her. But the Bard, he helped her live with her humanity,” Ciri finally said before she burst into tears, picking her daughter up in one arm and the boots in the other.

[navinityart]

Sorry I have been spamming this fandom so much lol when a hyperfixation hit there is nothing to stop it

Working on my rewrite, I got the sisters character descriptions down under the cut for who is interested 🤭

They’re mostly based on how they act in the stage show pushed a bit more + a couple headcanons for good measure

KNARRI

Knarri is living large and in charge!! She both gets things done and is a reliable shoulder to cry on and comfort you. Lots of animals in the forest go to her for advice. She is very social and caring for others.

All sisters technically own the tavern together, but Knarri has become the task giver and is always on top of everything. She is their boss in spirit, which the other sisters do not mind at all, Knarri is incredibly good at what she does and it’s nice to rely on her.

This girl is also not afraid to punch a wolf square in the face to protect those she loves.

She is very confident and knows what she wants in life: for her sisters to be happy and safe!…. And a strong hunky boyfriend to kiss. Sue her, she can’t always be the responsible one.

KNORRI

Knorri can only be described as one thing; a DELIGHT. She is the light and joy of every party. Knorri is incredibly excitable, easily impressed, and never stands still. She can be quite loud at times too… she’s just so excited to talk to you she can’t help it!! Girl is always jumping around and it’s no secret she has ADHD.

While Knarri takes on most responsibilities for the tavern, Knorri is definitely in charge of all the feasts and parties. Organising and hosting those events (like Carnaval and many others), is where she truly shines.

Some animals would write her off as ditzy on first glance, which she hates more than anything. Just because she has a short attention span doesn’t mean she’s stupid. On the contrary, she really yearns for someone to have deep and meaningful conversations with.

KNIRRI

While all 3 sisters are sappy dreamers of romance, Knirri is the most hopeless romantic of them all. Knirri would be described as a total softie and girly girl, that also loooves to laugh and giggle. While she is not shy at all, she is definitely the quietest compared to her sisters.

Knirri is also the most creatively gifted, she’s a great cook, amazing at sewing dresses, and this girl can fiddle the violin at a party like no other. All of their uniforms and costumes were sewn by Knirri herself!! Knirri is also very creative in the sense she’s quick to come up with a trick or lie to get them out of trouble, like seen in ‘gibbertjes’.

Sometimes she disappears to read a good romance novel in a flowery field, truly romanticising life. She can’t wait to meet the love of her life; a kind hearted gentleman that will make her laugh every day.