#yet alone consider that there might be a system in place for things

[david-watts]

kinda getting sick of the near daily ‘why don’t you do anything around the place’ argument from a hag who won’t even sneeze in the direction of being patient enough to like. let me do things

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Hide Me

Wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything. And yet, maybe it's not as bad as you thought.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, injury, medical things such as needles, mentions of potential murder

Length: ~2k words

A/N: T H E R E I S N O T A G L I S T-

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──👽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Okay, your plan might not work the way you'd hoped after all.

You'd wanted to just get away from earth for a while now- with the intergalactic union basically punishing the whole human race for ruining planet earth, by taking away any humans from leading positions in the government, and by entirely changing the law system across the globe.

But down the line, money seems to be enticing even for people from outer space- and so the humans with the most of it had stayed in their roles, corrupting the system even more these days.

You don't want to be here to watch everything inevitably crumble.

What you didn't really plan for had been the drunk guy robbing you just half an hour before you were supposed to go to the port where the interstellar cargo ships would soon get ready to fly out to other planets to trade produce and other food products. But really, you can't pay much attention to your own injury, because otherwise you'll miss your chance entirely.

And considering they only fly out once every two to three months, you really don't wanna miss this.

So you go through with your plan despite your blurry mind- hunger and your injury by now having definitely made things more and more difficult to handle. You mostly trust into your instincts at the moment, unsure if you could really pay attention to anything out of the ordinary in order to check your plan- but maybe you should've.

Because now that the heavy steel doors close, and the ship starts to rumble, engines starting, you realize that your environment isn't what you'd expected to find as you lift the heavy tarp from over your head a little.

It doesn't make sense.

The interior, now that you look at it, looks nothing like the cargo ship from Heza that you had been supposed to be boarding. There's also been almost no security, no other staff around, no guards or even workers seen anywhere.

Everything is metal, a bit bent and busted here and there but still good and well taken care of. The model of the ship must be the same as the one from Heza -

But this is absolutely not the ship you thought you were sneaking into.

This is bad.

It's the worst, in fact, considering your still throbbing and probably bleeding wound, which had also not been part of the plan. The shaking of the ship finally subsides, a calm buzz and steady vibrations instead filling the space, your ears feeling strangely pressurized, something that subsides after moving your jaw a little. You know what this must mean.

You're no longer on earth.

Well, this is a problem now. You don't know where the hell this person is traveling to, let alone who owns the ship in the first place. For all you know, it could have no pilot at all, flying on pure autopilot which would at least make you feel a bit easier knowing that only actual cargo ships fly predetermined routes like that.

You feel like you're gonna throw up. Your stomach is so empty that your throat is closing up, or at least that's what it feels like. And considering this isn't a Heza ship, there will probably be nothing edible here at all.

And suddenly, there's a rumbling noise, metal scraping on the floor as the pressurized doors open, causing you to hide under the thick plastic coverings again, hoping, praying no one finds you. Boots click on the floor, and you hear chains hitting each other in high pitched noises, leather squeaking a bit and then-

You hear plastic being lifted. Whoever is currently here is aware that you're not supposed to be here. That something's off, not quite right. They're searching for something.

Someone.

You hold your breath as if that's gonna help you at all, but you know it won't. The steps echo closer, closer, closer, plastic tarp being lifted and placed back over and over again around you. And suddenly, the tarp you're underneath lifts as well, and you're sure you're visibly shaking, especially when something cold hits the back of your head.

A gun, for sure.

"You got one try." A male voice states, the click of the gun heard and felt against your scalp and oh God, you're gonna pass out, either from blood loss, hunger, or the fact that there's someone pointing a fucking gun at you-

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you through the airlock right now."

Well, fuck.

You think hard, unsure what to really tell him- you don't even know if he's human or not, can't catch a glimpse of him considering he'll probably shoot you right away if you were to try, so you can't adjust your answer according to his race either. So, really, what do you have to lose now?

You're probably going to die either way- so why not just throw out your honest intentions.

"I'm trying to escape earth." You simply say, voice trembling as it's hardly loud enough to reach him properly.

"Why?" He presses on, leather moving again with distinctive noise as he squats down, gun still against the back of your head. "Are you a criminal?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"No." You answer. "Just.. over it." You shrug, tumbling forwards a little as you lose your balance for a second, brain becoming dizzy.

"Give me your name." He demands. "I will try and verify your information myself." The man says, and you laugh to yourself.

"Well, too bad." You chuckle. "I don't have a name. Got a number though, if you want it?" You slur by now, growing increasingly nauseous as your body seems to be hot one second and icy cold another. It seems as if he's noticing your state by now as well, hands moving your arm upwards as he inspects the blood staining your shirt by now.

"How did that happen?" He asks, and you try and explain- but there's no thought properly formed anymore. "Hah..., weak things." He mumbles to himself as he lets you fall forward onto your side, unable to sit upright any longer. He isn't very gentle as he lifts you up, over his shoulder to carry you out the cargo area of his ship and down several hallways like nothing but a sack of potatoes, into a room that looks awfully sterile and small. You're barely conscious, really, as you only somewhat feel him lay you down somewhere.

Everything between that, and now, as you wake up with a feeling of sudden panic, is just not there.

Your wrist is bound to the metal frame of the simple bedframe in the sterile, small room, machines beeping and occasionally making other noises as a voice rings out through a speaker, a sound echoing to signal an announcement. "Don't think your weak body will make me overlook the fact that you're a stowaway that illegally entered my ship." His voice echoes through the room. "You've broken human laws, and I'm required by the intergalactic union to report your crimes." He says, and you flop down onto the bed at that, a hand on your face desperately trying to hide your tears. That's even worse than getting shot through the airlock.

So you act out of panic, sitting up to rip out the IV line from your arm. "Hey- stop that!" He barks through the intercom, but you don't listen, as you try to squeeze and wiggle your hand out of the handcuffs bound to the bed, tugging on other sensors connected to your body, uncaring of the harsh sting and slight blood you're drawing.

It's when the only door of the room opens, and the man walks in, boots heavy on the floor as he leans one knee on the bed, grabbing your wrists that you're forced to stop your little panic attack. "Stop that." He growls, looking at you with both annoyance and anger as he watches you. "What in canis major is fucking wrong with you?" He scoffs, a low, clicking like sound in the back of his throat as his eyes glow an angry red.

"Throw me out the airlock then." You ask, frustrated tears brimming in your eyes as you look at him. "Shoot me in the head, I don't care." You tell him.

"Death won't lift your crimes, human." He tells you lowly. "You should've considered the consequences prior to your actions." The young man says.

"Hah, as if I didn't do that!" You bark at his face, and he leans back at that, eyes shifting slowly from their deep red to a more orange hue. "I'm not going back to earth. At least not alive." You say with a final tone to your voice, and at that he gets up, sighs, his eyes a pale yellow-ish brown as he opens them again to move around, and pick up the IV you'd tugged out from your arm, discarding the used needle before he moves to get a new, packaged one.

"How did you loose your name?" He asks, as he walks around, prepares the IV again it seems like, while you sit on the bed, legs tucked in closely. "I've looked up the number inked on your wrist. What you said about your identity seems to be true- but there's always a reason why humans loose their names, and yet there was no criminal record attached to you." He explains, and you shrug.

"Just.." You shrug again, glaring at him a bit as he rather roughly tugs your hand away from your knees, turning your forearm to locate a vein again. "Not worth it, I guess. I'm not trained in any field that's considered valuable, and I'm also not very smart- so I lost my name when I turned twenty-one because I'm not valuable enough." You say.

"That doesn't make any sense." He furrows his brows as he places the IV back in with not much regard to you hissing when he pishes the needle into your skin, securing it with medical tape before he adjusts the machines and sensors again.

"Yeah well, a lot of things don't make sense on earth." You mumble as you watch him, hissing a bit when he tugs on your skin too roughly as he checks the large plaster covering your stab wound.

"Stay here now, and stop being ungrateful for my care while I go over some things." He says, and you tug on the handcuffs a bit, as if to remind him. "What?" He asks.

"Are you.. not taking those off?" You wonder, and he seems almost amused as he looks at you with a slightly pinkish undertone in his eyes.

"No." He simply answers, door opening with a hiss of the hydraulics. "Wouldn't want you to get too comfortable here, after all."

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 25.5k ❧ warnings: cursing, neck/shoulder biting and marking if you’re squeamish about that, talking about like werewolf scenting and stuff, blood, brief kissing with blood on/around mouths, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol ❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first! this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from changer to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc), and if you were able to survive changer, then you deserve a medal. and this is that medal, i suppose!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Sung.” You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend, holding him close with no hesitation, even as his own arms were much slower to react. But once they did, he pulled you to him with a nearly crushing force, a strength that could all but make you forget that he was only half-werewolf.

Tonight, he’d let you stay with him for one of his shifts. It was exactly because he was half-werewolf that he’d even considered it in the first place, his shifts were much less intense than full werewolves, generally less violent and possibly dangerous for anybody who happened to be around him. He’d described it to you after the last full moon, that it was more just sort of painful, confusing, and sometimes sort of like when drunk-you left problems for sober-you, like drunk-dialing people or spending too much money online. Except in his case, werewolf-him generally destroyed smaller pieces of property like school notes or clothes. When he said that he always asked Shotaro to leave the night of the full moon, you asked if you could be with him the next time. It sounded terrible to have to do that alone every month. And to your surprise, he’d only responded with a weak ‘please?’

So when you’d arrived this afternoon, you’d taken everything out of his room that you feasibly could that he didn’t want to chew up: his bookbag, textbooks, nice sneakers, photo albums, laptop, etc. And then you’d locked the door, and stayed with him.

Now he was coming out of it—a glance at his bedside clock that had been knocked out of place but was otherwise fine told you that it was almost three in the morning. You cradled the back of his fully-human-again head, not minding the matted, damp hair.

“I’m right here,” you reminded him. “I didn’t go anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt him shudder as he let out what sounded like a whine of pain. It made you worried about him staying up on his own two feet. “Sung? Do you need to lay down?”

He didn’t answer, and you realized he might not be back at the point where he could speak yet. Before you could finish weighing your options of attempting to drag the 186cm still partially-shifted half-werewolf to his bed by yourself, he’d buried his face in your neck, opened his mouth, and was resting his set of sharp canines against the curve of where your neck met your shoulder.

You breathed in through your nose, hand still on his head as he just… waited. For what, you couldn’t say. He was still whining softly, though now there was a slight undertone of need cutting through the pain you’d heard earlier.

Your hand was still resting on his head, and you gently pulled him closer, feeling the dull pressure of his teeth against your skin. “It’s okay, Sung. Whatever you need. I trust you.”

Finally, he closed his jaw. But it wasn’t a bite at all, it was more like a toddler teething on something cold to soothe their aching gums while their new teeth grew in. It didn’t hurt; he certainly wasn’t breaking skin, and you doubted that any marks would be left. The worst damage would be slobber, you were sure. If anything, it just… tickled. Suppressing a giggle at the feeling, you stroked his hair affectionately.

“There you go, Sung. There you go…” You murmured quietly. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay, baby…”

“Bite…” He finally let out a grunt that sounded akin to a real word.

“What? What was that?” You tried to pull your head back to be able to look him in the face, but he didn’t want to detach from you in the slightest, his whines becoming less pained and more pathetic. Giving up on the task, you shook your head just a little, “Never mind, sorry. But what were you saying, Sung? Something about biting? You didn’t chew anything up this time, actually. We kept you in check pretty well. Your wallet will thank us, I’m sure.”

Sungchan continued to mouth at your neck a couple more times before he gave another full body shudder and tremble, then fell to his knees. As wrapped up in each other as you were, you went down with him, your kneecaps only saved by the fact that he had a nice plush rug. Your forehead wasn’t so lucky, as it got cracked against his on the way down, and you bit your tongue as a result.

“Shit!” You hissed, but couldn’t even focus on your own pain for very long, because Sungchan was now leaning most of his weight forward onto you. You quickly readjusted hold him up by the underarms. “Woah, woah. You alright, Sung?”

“I… bite…” He groaned again.

“You bite your tongue too?” You guessed humorously, scooting to sit on the floor against his bed and ushering him to lay down with his head in your lap. Ideally, you’d be in the bed, not on the floor next to it, but this was close enough.

Sungchan curled up in your lap as if he’d forgotten how big he was, fitting as much of the top half of his body there as he could. It was as he turned over slightly onto his side that you finally got a good look at his face again and saw just how exhausted he looked. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and his skin was warm, flushed, and drenched with sweat. You gently brushed the damp bangs away from his forehead with one hand, reaching your other up towards his nightstand. After fumbling around in the top drawer for a ridiculous amount of time considering you’d put it literally right on top, you finally grabbed the lunchbox filled with cold, damp washcloths and ice packs that you’d stored in there earlier.

Unzipping it, the ice packs were all melted, but the washcloths were still nice and cool, which was what you really needed. Taking the first one, you blotted it along Sungchan’s forehead, cheeks, and neck, following it up with fleeting touches of your hand to assess if it was really helping or not. Judging by the small, soft, not painful sigh he let out, it at least didn’t seem to be hurting.

“Y/N…” He panted, grabbing your wrist as you were pressing the washcloth to his cheek.

“Yep, I’m right here, Sung,” you reassured him, putting your other hand over his. “I’m right here, okay?”

“I…”

“Do you need something, baby? Water? Food?

“I want…”

You dropped the washcloth from his face to listen attentively. “Yeah, Sung?”

His eyes finally opened, letting you see that his irises were still the same glowing, burning amber as earlier in the night. Not quite out of his shift yet. He sat up until he was nearly level with your neck, breathing in deeply. His grip on your wrist tightened, then he all but collapsed back onto your lap again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Mm… I should… We should… I wan’ to…” He was slurring his words like he was drunk, chest heaving with every breath, and his grip on your wrist relaxed until he was loosely holding your hand, pulling it down to cradle your forearm to his chest like it was a stuffed animal. “Wan’… give you my mating bite… Y/N…”

You stared down at Sungchan with wide, dumbstruck eyes. As he slowly blinked, you could see that his eyes were still that same bright gold. He just shifted further up to try to fit more of himself in your lap, though, pressing his head against your stomach and wedging his shoulder in the gap left by your criss-crossed legs.

Even as you were so shocked, you curled up and readjusted to mold your body around him, one hand giving his head a soft, reassuring pat as the other rubbed up and down his arm, soothing over the surely tired muscles.

“You…” You trailed off in your attempt to get clarification, unable to even begin to try to rephrase it yourself. In packs, mated werewolf couples bit each other in elaborate rituals. Neither of you were any of those things. Could Sungchan even give a werewolf mating bite, as a half-werewolf? Could you receive one? You definitely couldn’t give him one back. Wouldn’t he want one back? Or maybe not? Not to mention he wasn’t in a pack and had never been in his life. What did a mating bite mean to him?

God, your head hurt, and you weren’t even the one who had gone through a werewolf shift tonight.

Sungchan took another deep breath, and long, slow blink, his eyes almost back to their normal brown color. “‘Cause I… I love you. I wan’ to… ‘cause I love you… my… Y/N.”

His eyes fluttered shut, and you heard his breathing even out as he finally fell asleep in just a few moments.

It didn’t seem like you’d get the answer to any of those questions tonight. And as much as the idea of going any longer without knowing made your stomach twist into painful, uncomfortable knots, Sungchan needed the rest. He wasn’t in the right state for any sort of conversation like that. There wouldn’t be any way he’d be able to answer your questions even if you could force yourself to ask them.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently peck his hair. “Your Y/N loves you too, Sung…”

Your back ached. You had a crick in your neck. And another one in your back. And another one in another part of your back. And yet another one in one more part of your back. You groaned, rolling over in bed to try to crack some of the kinks out without having to actually get up.

That gave you pause. There was definitely a mattress underneath you, blankets covering you, and a pillow supporting your head. But you remembered falling asleep on the floor next to Sungchan’s bed after his shift last night.

Squinting one eye open suspiciously, you saw that it was still very dark in his room, but you had without a doubt been mysteriously tucked into his bed. Much too tired to investigate past that, you pulled the blankets up over your head and buried your face in your pillow, very quickly falling back asleep.

When you woke up again, it was brighter outside, and at first you thought Sungchan had put a weighted blanket on you in the middle of the night. Odd choice, considering you didn’t have one on you the first time you woke up, or at least that you could remember. And then you realized that Sungchan was your weighted blanket.

Your boyfriend was fully snuggled up on top of your back, completely passed out, as you were dozing on your front. You couldn’t even roll him over, he was dead weight. With a sigh, you closed your eyes again, wondering if you’d be able to go back to sleep for a second—third?—time this morning.

“You up?” He mumbled in your ear, voice barely above a hoarse grumble.

“You’re awake?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah?”

“So you’re suffocating me on purpose?”

He rolled off onto the mattress next to you, and immediately your lungs could work better. “Oh, so when you do it to me, it’s cute and I’m supposed to enjoy it, but when I do it, it’s attempted murder and ‘Ouch, Sungchan, get off of me, you’re crushing me with your big, huge werewolf muscles.’”

“So I don’t need to ask if you’re feeling better,” you scoffed, but nevertheless shifted onto your side to face him.

He wasn’t pink-faced and sweaty anymore, instead looking unnaturally pale, with dark circles under his eyes like he’d pulled two all-nighters in a row for finals week. You cupped his cheek, gently running your thumb under one of his eyes. His skin wasn’t warm to the touch, instead it felt the same temperature as yours—cold for a werewolf or half-werewolf.

“You’ve got a chill, Sung,” you observed with a frown, taking your hand back as you prepared to get up.

“It’s normal, baby,” he reassured you, grabbing your arm to keep you from leaving. “Just uh… returning to homeostasis or whatever. I’ll be okay.”

“Alright… if you say so…” you sighed, staying put and pressing a kiss to his forehead, sneakily taking note of his temperature that way instead. “You can at least eat, right? Breakfast sound good?”

“Sure. In a minute.”

“You stay here, I’ll go make you something. Breakfast in bed. What’s better than that?”

He pretended to deliberate on this, then grabbed you with two arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “This.”

Tucked under his chin, you couldn’t look up to read his face, instead just staring at his t-shirt. “Really? You’re not hungry?”

“A little. But I won’t die if I don’t eat right now.”

“Are you implying that you’ll die if we don’t cuddle right now?”

“Yes,” he replied dramatically. “Absolutely. I’ll simply perish if I don’t get my Y/N time this instant.”

You couldn’t help but snicker at that, finally giving in. Not forgetting about his drop in temperature, you made sure to pull the blankets up around you two before you fully snuggled in, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“Alright, alright. Slow your roll on your imminent decay. I’m right here, Sung. Like I said last night, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You did say that, didn’t you?” He mused, tangling your legs together.

“Yeah, I did.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. “Uhm… How much do you remember about your shifts?”

“While I’m fully shifted? Not a lot usually. Immediately before and after? Depends. Why? Did I do something?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the feeling of his teeth on your neck, of him asking to bite you, to give you his mating bite. Did he remember that? Sungchan wasn’t bringing it up… Surely he’d mention it again now if he remembered, or was serious about it.

“Well, afterwards… you were kind of saying some stuff. I just didn’t know if you—”

“Hey… look at me?” Sungchan requested as he leaned back from you. When you’d picked up your head to oblige, he looked you in the eye with no hesitation, his face entirely serious now. “Of course I meant it when I said I love you. I’m sorry I said it to you for the first time looking like a hot fucking mess, and again now not in much better shape, but I mean it all the same. I love you, my Y/N. So much. So goddamn much I feel like I could explode if I don’t tell you every 5 seconds. Except you might get kind of tired of me if I did that.”

Despite it not being the words you were expecting to hear, you were beaming from ear to ear, even managing out a choked laugh through the happy tears suddenly welling up in your eyes.

“Woah, hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry with how bad my confession was,” he joked, wiping at the first tear as it slipped down your cheek.

“Oh shut it!” You chastised him. “What have I told you about being a sweetheart?”

“Own up to it or don’t do it at all,” he recited dutifully. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you, so fucking much and I’m going to explode if you don’t say it back maybe? But no pressure? Also, I love you. And no pressure to say it back right now.”

“Oh my god, Sung, I love you too,” you laughed, grabbing his face in both of your hands to pull his mouth to yours. “So fucking much.”

Dr. and Mr. Jung lived in a two-story townhouse just a couple blocks over from campus. The old bricks on the face of it were a warm red, and as you got closer, you saw that there were shimmery flecks mixed into the rogue.

“How old are these buildings?” You asked Sungchan, reaching out to touch one of the bricks around the entryway. “There’s dragon scales in the brick.”

“There’s what?” Sungchan’s eyes widened, and you pointed to a particularly large chunk, about the size of the head of a thumbtack. It reflected amber in the setting sun.

“Dragon scales. They used to be incorporated into building materials to make them more durable. You know, before integration. There’s been really big debates at like, every open-door City Hall meeting about if we should keep buildings up that have dragon scale brick in them or not, since so many dragons had to be killed to make them.”

“Oh my god.”

“So far it looks like they’re going to move towards tearing down abandoned buildings made of dragon scale brick at least.”

“How-How many dragons? Were killed?”

“We have no way to know. And the thing is, you can gather dragon scales without hurting a dragon, it’s just not going to be enough to make dragon scale brick of any usable quantity.”

“So it should’ve never been made.”

“No. It shouldn’t have.” You turned away from the wall with a shake of your head. “Anyway, that’s why I was asking how old these homes are. They’re by the university, so pretty old, I guess.”

“I have no clue. You’d have to ask my parents.” Sungchan ushered you towards the door with a hand on the small of your back.

“I don’t think I will. Not incredible meet-the-parents dinner conversation, really.”

“As much I want to say they’ll love you anyway, which they would, I do have to agree with you. Maybe save the existential horror of the materials of their home for the second dinner.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Will do.” You nodded. “Now, are you going to knock on the door, or are we going to keep standing out here like we’re casing the place?”

“Oh, sorry, you can’t hear that. My mom’s—”

And then the sound of the front door unlocking came, and you looked up at Sungchan questioningly. It was opened by a face familiar to you only from pictures.

Dr. Jung was already beaming at you. “Hello! Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you, Y/N. I was grading in my office and could hear you two coming up the steps, got a bit excited.” She gestured to the window next to the brick that you’d been discussing.

Dr. Jung was an economics professor at your university, though you’d never taken a class from her personally.

“I was about to give you a heads up,” Sungchan patted you on the back. “I heard her footsteps, that’s—”

“—why you weren’t knocking. Of course.” You nodded, then turned your focus back to Sungchan’s mother. “It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Jung.”

“You too, Y/N.” She was still smiling ear-to-ear as she reached forward to take your hands. “You’ll have to tell me more about the history of these dragon scale bricks, I truly had no idea.”

You looked at Sungchan in alarm, and he just shrugged. But she was already leading you into the house by your hand, your boyfriend trailing behind.

“Mom, I don’t even get a hug? No hello for your own son?” Sungchan complained dramatically, closing the door behind you three.

“Well since you’re going to be a big baby about it.” A man’s voice suddenly joined in as you had emerged from the front hallway into the living room. You turned around towards the stairs to see Sungchan’s dad standing on the bottom step, still not eye level with his son even with the added height. He wrapped his arms around Sungchan with an affectionate fake growl, and your boyfriend eagerly hugged his dad back.

Mr. Jung was a middle school science teacher, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was where Sungchan got his love for science from. He never said it specifically, but he’d told you plenty of stories of doing home science experiments with his dad as a kid.

“Hey, Dad.” He was grinning so brightly as he pulled away, then eagerly gestured to you. “Dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my dad.”

“Jung Yoonseo, how are you?” The other human greeted you. But your gaze got stuck on the dip of Mr. Jung’s shoulder, where his neck met shoulder, and two-thirds of a dark bite mark were visible above the collar of his shirt.

You tore your eyes away from the mating bite to look up at his face, smiling again. “I’m good, Mr. Jung, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m very well.” He nodded to you, starting towards the connected kitchen.

“Oh, honey, Y/N was just telling me that apparently our home is made of dragon scale brick,” Dr. Jung pulled you into the kitchen as well.

Mr. Jung turned around from where he’d started peeling a vegetable to look at his wife curiously. “Sorry, you said dragon scales, Jieun?”

“Yes! Go on, Y/N. I didn’t catch much of what you were telling Sungchan, I came to get you all as soon as I heard that you’d arrived.”

You looked to Sungchan imploringly, but he just shrugged again, then mouthed something that looked like ‘go for it’ to you. So you inhaled, and went for it.

“Dr. and Mr. Jung, do you two know how old your house is?”

“I think that went pretty well,” Sungchan declared as the two of you walked down the sidewalks hand-in-hand later that evening. He had a bag filled with containers of leftovers in his other hand.

“Glad you think so. I felt like Renjun, giving people impromptu lectures at the most out-of-pocket times,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, and they loved it. My parents are big nerds like you.”

“You’re literally a STEM major.”

“Point taken.”

“So your dad wasn’t just being nice when he invited me over for tea, then?”

Your boyfriend looked down at you with wide eyes. “When did he do that?”

“When you and your mom were packing up the leftovers and he was showing me the backyard. I forgot how it came up, but I’d mentioned the boba shop, and he said if I liked tea, then I was welcome to come over for a cup anytime. Since he’s still on summer break and everything.”

Despite the smile that had creeped across his face as you spoke, you furrowed your brow suspiciously.

“What? What are you smiling for?”

He surprised you by smooching your temple loudly. “I was wrong. It didn’t go pretty well. It went great.”

“Being invited over for tea is a good sign?” You asked cautiously.

“Definitely.” He stopped the two of you on the deserted sidewalk, letting go of your hand just to immediately seize your waist, pulling you towards him. The surprised noise you were about to make got muffled by Sungchan sealing his lips over yours. You curled a hand around the back of his neck as the other gripped onto his forearm for some kind of stability as he kissed you breathless.

As he pulled back to look down at you with that same big, tender grin, you couldn’t help but let out an airy giggle.

“And what was that for?”

“I love you. And do I need a reason to kiss my amazing, beautiful girlfriend?” He punctuated each of the last three words with more kisses to your cheek this time, making you giggle again.

“Like that, in the middle of the street? Yes.” You pinched his side teasingly, earning a laugh as he squirmed away from your touch. You made sure to tack on an, “I love you too, Sung.”

“We’re not in the street, we’re on the sidewalk.”

Before you could give your retort, he’d caught your lips in another sweet kiss, and all banter was gone from your mind.

“Are you staying at my place?” Sungchan asked when you’d finally restarted your journey.

“Let’s do my place tonight, hm?” You suggested, squeezing his hand.

He tilted his head, an adorable, confused pout on his face. “Why?”

“Because I don’t have some poor roommate that we’ll be annoying.”

“Says the girl who used to specifically ask if Shotaro was going to be home before she’d agree to come over,” he snickered.

“I did that because I had a huge crush on you and you’d friendzoned me, you ass.” You elbowed him in the side teasingly. “Having Taro there made it easier to ignore the aching hole in my chest whenever I looked at you, you dick.”

You landed a gentle mock punch that was in actuality a light tap to his chest, but Sungchan was no longer laughing. He looked down at you, pensive sadness on his features.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to articulate how much I regret putting you through that. You didn’t deserve to ever feel… an aching hole, because of me.”

“Ah, Sung.” You hugged his arm to your chest, resting your head against his shoulder as you walked. “I know you would’ve never done that to me on purpose. But if we can’t laugh about it—about the uh, admittedly kind of funny scenario we put ourselves in before we started dating—then we’ll never be able to really move past it. We’re together now, and that’s what really matters.”

He sighed. “I agree. I just… I don’t think I’m past the feeling bad part yet.”

“That’s okay.” You squeezed his upper arm reassuringly. “Just don’t beat yourself up on my account. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the small smile in his voice.

“So, my place?”

“I just remembered that my mom put in some leftovers for Shotaro. Kelp rolls.”

“We should probably take that to him, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Hopefully that’ll be enough to counteract us existing around him.”

Shotaro was enthused to receive his kelp rolls, not even commenting on you staying the night as he excitedly took his food into his room.

“You want something to eat?” Sungchan asked as he put the rest of the leftovers in the fridge.

“No. I ate plenty at your parents’ house.” You shook your head. Stretching and yawning, you started towards the hallway with their bedrooms. “You make your little post-dinner snack. Feed your half-werewolf metabolism. I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“Feel free to take a sweatshirt or something.”

“Way ahead of you.”

Your boyfriend found you a few minutes later already curled up in his bed, bundled up in just one of his oversized hoodies. He scooted in next to you, encouraging you to move your head from the pillow to his lap as you went to snuggle up to his side instead.

“Whatcha eating, Sung?” You mumbled, mouth splitting into another yawn. All you could tell was that he had a bowl of some kind of finger food, as he’d brought no utensil in with him.

“Some fruit. Strawberries, honeydew, blueberries… Oh, you want a grape?”

“I’m still not entirely convinced that you’re not trying to fatten me up to eat, you know?” You said teasingly. “Like some mix of the witch from Hansel and Gretel and the big bad wolf from Little Red Riding Hood…”

“Banana slice?”

But you knew it was just his instinct to feed you, so you always indulged him to a certain extent—not so much that you felt like you were going to burst, but enough to calm his need to know that you were well-fed.

“Mm, grape.” You opened your mouth like a baby bird. He deposited the fruit on your tongue, but due to how you were laying, it landed more-so on the inside of your cheek. You had to sit up and prop yourself up on an elbow to chew and swallow properly without choking, but then promptly laid back down, nuzzling your face into his thigh.

Just a few seconds later, he asked you through a full mouth, “Baby? You want another?”

“I’m good, Sung, thank you,” you replied sweetly. “Your dad’s a really good cook, I ate a lot at dinner.”

“Yeah, he is,” he agreed proudly.

“Now finish your food so you can cuddle me to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And less than ten minutes later, you were laid on your side, pulled flush to Sungchan’s front, your back to his chest and your legs tangled together. You had one of his arms ensnared, fingers laced loosely with his as you wrapped the limb tighter around you. His face was buried in your neck, planting absentminded kisses to your skin as you were gently floating between waking and sleep.

“I used to think you liked him, for a little bit, you know,” Sungchan murmured next to your ear, clearly a sudden blurting from his own train of thought that you weren’t privy to.

Oh, this sounded like a conversation. You squinted your eyes open blearily, turning over in his arms to face him. Throwing a leg over his to pull him closer, you offered him a sleepy smile and asked, “Who?”

He readjusted to keep holding you like that, one hand resting where the bottom of the hoodie had ridden up around your hip, settling on your thigh. His thumb and forefinger messed with the hem of the sweater, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in the dim light as he swallowed.

“Shotaro. Since you’d always ask if he was going to be at the apartment. But your heartrate never went up around him.”

You hummed in amusement, reaching out to gently pinch the tip of his nose. “Endearing that you were listening to my heartbeat to figure out if I liked your roommate.”

“But it did… go up around me sometimes. I knew that,” he confessed, his eyes locking on yours, desperate. Like he was searching, asking you for something. Absolution, penance, maybe. “And it made me happy. Even though I had told myself that I shouldn’t have you. It still… made me happy at first, but then it’d make me sad. That you hadn’t moved on. Because I thought you’d deserved to move on.”

But he’d done no sin that you needed to cleanse him of in your eyes. He was a guy who made a few mistakes and then finally made the right choice. After you smacked him upside the head with it, but nobody was perfect. The person who really needed to forgive him was himself. He was still stuck in the past, seemingly afraid that he could lose you at any moment. But he wasn’t going to, and you wished he would just believe that.

“But you got me now,” you promised, cradling his face and wishing he could feel just how much you really meant those words.

“I do.” He brought his hand up to cover your own, and you felt like you could cry. “I do got you now.”

“And I’ve got you.”

“You’ve always had me. I just hadn’t told you yet. But you’ve always had me,” Sungchan admitted with a bittersweet smile, curling his hand around yours.

You surged forward to close the minute gap between the two of you, kissing him so hard that your lips hurt. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands grabbed at his shoulders, his clothes, anything to pull him closer to you. He was hugging you tight to him, thank god, because it felt like you could never be close enough. Your bones ached with a need to break the laws of physics and exist in the same time and space as him, and a tiny part of you believed that if you just wanted it enough, if you tried hard enough, maybe you could.

“You know, I thought all I’d feel was relief when you and Sungchan finally got together, but instead I’m plagued by near constant nausea.”

You stopped in your tracks in the hallway. You’d been trying to quietly pee then hurry back into Sungchan’s room the next morning, but instead, you spun around to face Shotaro, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

He was standing in front of his door at the opposite end of the hall, arms crossed over his chest.

“Maybe go see a witch about that. It sounds serious,” you wrinkled your nose teasingly. Thankfully you’d had the wherewithal to pull on a pair of sleep shorts you had stashed in Sungchan’s drawers before leaving his room that morning.

“Yeah, that and my recently developed insomnia, too,” he scoffed. “Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep, you know.”

Your skin burned as you started shuffling backwards towards Sungchan’s room. “Sorry! Bye!”

You slammed the door behind you, startling Sungchan awake.

“Huh?” He blinked sleepily, lifting his head to look around.

You launched yourself back into bed, burying your face in the pillow in shame.

“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” Sungchan’s voice was thick and deep this early in the morning, but you couldn’t even focus on that. He rubbed your back soothingly as you shook your head.

You turned your head just enough to clear your mouth to speak. “We should’ve gone to my place... No roommate...”

“Oh, Shotaro giving you a hard time?”

“‘Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep.’” You did your best Shotaro impression. “I don’t think it was enough kelp rolls.”

“Ah, I’m-I’m sorry, baby.” Sungchan kept rubbing your back, but you could hear that he was holding back laughter.

You rolled onto your back, shooting him a glare before staring up at the ceiling. “Why do I always let you talk me into staying at your place?”

“Because you love me,” he replied in a sing-song voice, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheekbone, near your hairline.

“Yeah, but I mean, why do we always end up at your apartment, Sung? Why do you never want to come over to mine?”

The teasing dropped from his tone as he straightened up slightly. “It’s not like that, Y/N. I like spending time with you, no matter where we are. We could be in the cold vacuum of space, and I’d be fine with it as long as we were hanging out. And, in space suits so we didn’t die, you know. But, it’s just... I don’t know, I like having you here. In my space. It feels like everything’s right in the universe, like I know everything will be okay, that you’re going to be okay. As stupid as that sounds—”

“No, Sung, it’s not stupid.” You shifted to face him, brushing some hair back from his face. The same anxiety that you’d seen the night before was painted across his features again, and you didn’t like that you were seeing it more and more often. His sentiments weren’t stupid, they were loving, but the root of them concerned you. Was he constantly plagued by worries of something bad happening to you?

“Not at all...” You reiterated softly, running your thumb over the crease between his brows. “Sung? Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you have class today but… can I stay here? While you’re on campus? Then we can do something together when you get back. We can go downtown or something.”

You could feel his face relax again under your touch, and he nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, of course. If you think you can handle being around Shotaro for that long. He’s off work today.”

“I’ll manage, somehow.”

When it was finally time for Sungchan to go to class, though, you encountered an issue.

“Sung, you need to go to class,” you sighed, nudging him from where he had his arms wrapped around you. You’d been lounging on the couch when it struck time for him to finally depart for campus, but you were now dealing with a clingy werewolf.

“The professor doesn’t count attendance for a grade,” he grumbled. “I can skip.”

“You literally said this morning that you had a quiz today.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did, you liar,” you scoffed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “And you need to go take that quiz.”

Shotaro, meanwhile, was observing the entire thing from the threshold between the living room and the hallway, a fascinating mixture of equal parts disgust and amusement on his features. You looked at him pleadingly for any kind of assistance, and he rolled his eyes, but nevertheless helped you anyway.

“Sungchan, dude, seriously,” Shotaro sighed, his tone on the border of exasperation and understanding. “Y/N’s wearing your clothes, staying in our apartment, and you haven’t let her go for I think the past four hours straight, not even to pee. You’ve scented her up enough to last the next month, a few hours will be fine.”

Your jaw set as there was a sudden spark of recognition in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t follow that train of thought in the moment. Sungchan loosened his grip on you, sitting up and blinking as if woken from a trance. “R-Right. Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay, Sung,” you smiled, standing up and yanking him to his feet as well. You practically dragged him towards the front door, shoving his backpack in his hands. “Now go, you’re going to be late.”

He looked down at you with a small, fond smile as well, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “Bye, love you.”

“I love you too.” You got up on your tiptoes to give him a fleeting kiss goodbye, and he wrapped an arm around you for a hug. You were worried that this was about to be another borderline hostage situation, but he took one more inhale near your neck, then let you go and straightened up.

“Okay. See you in a few.” He said, his hand on the door handle.

“Go, Sungchan.”

“Fine, fine. Bye.”

And with that, he was finally gone. You turned back around to Shotaro, letting out a sigh of relief. The siren just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Werewolves, dude.” He flopped onto the opposite side of the couch from where you and Sungchan had just been.

You sat back down, kicking your feet up and pulling out your phone. “Yeah. Werewolves...”

Shotaro started flicking through a streaming service to try to find something to watch. “Hey wait, shouldn’t he be scenting you less since he’s a half-werewolf?”

“I... don’t know,” you admitted. “There’s not really any sort of research on half-werewolves. We don’t know anything about what they ‘should’ be like. Not even one of those unethical case studies from the 1800s.”

“Huh. But like I was saying earlier, you two make me nauseous.”

“Just put on your trashy reality TV that we know you’re going to pick after scrolling around for 30 minutes.”

“The browsing is part of the experience.”

As Shotaro browsed on the TV then eventually picked a show, you searched on your phone. The Real Sirens of Diamond Bay was great background noise as you dug through the internet, and you barely even realized the time until your friend was calling for your attention from the kitchen.

“Hm?” You looked up from the forum post that you’d been reading.

“I asked if you wanted lunch.” He opened the fridge, taking out the containers of leftovers you and your boyfriend had brought home last night. “Or if only Sungchan could feed you.”

“Yeah, sure, I could eat.” You joined him in the kitchen, stretching out your back. “So you noticed that too, huh?”

“Oh, the pre-mating behaviors? Well, you did give me a very convenient list when you were still in your denial phase.”

You punched his arm, making him nearly drop the plates he’d just gotten from the cabinet.

“Ow!” He rubbed the spot with a pout, handing you one of the dishes. “Rude... I’m feeding you food from my fridge.”

“No, I’m letting you eat my leftovers,” you corrected him. “Dr. Jung made us take all the steamed buns because she knew they were my favorite.”

Shotaro had been loading said steamed buns up onto his plate, then started shoveling the rest of them onto yours. “Calm down, I wasn’t taking them all.”

You looked at the empty container with a sigh, putting half of yours back. “Well, we can’t just leave nothing for Sung.”

After you’d made your plates with minimal bickering and warmed them up, you took them to the small dining table in the corner of the living room to eat. Shotaro continued playing the episode he’d been on for ambiance as he engaged you in conversation.

“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” He asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”

You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”

“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”

“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”

“Gross.”

“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”

“Does it ever stop?”

You grimaced, “Well…”

“No?” Shotaro asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.

“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.

“After…?”

“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”

The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”

“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”

You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”

“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”

You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…

“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.

Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”

“Shotaro—”

“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”

“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”

“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”

“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”

You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”

“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”

“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”

“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”

“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”

“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”

“I… need to talk to some other people, I think.” You turned your eyes downwards as you tried to really think about it.

“That wasn’t a no! Hell yeah! I’m so going to be Sungchan’s best man!”

You rolled your eyes. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”

As you finished up your lunch, your mind wouldn’t stop turning over what Shotaro had said. If Sungchan had been serious, would you say yes? You knew from class what the bite meant to werewolves within packs, but did it mean the same thing to Sungchan since he was half-werewolf? Did that even make a difference? Not to mention that you weren’t any part werewolf, the exchanging of bites was supposed to be an entire ritual similar to a couple exchanging rings on their wedding day. You couldn’t exactly bite him back. And the couple online was already legally married anyway…

Well, you did know one other werewolf/human couple that you could talk to, at least. You quickly texted Jeno.

[you: hey, are you home right now?]

Miraculously, he texted back almost immediately.

[jeno: yeah, just got back from a run]

[jeno: why?]

[you: mind if i come over really quick? need some advice on something with sung]

[jeno: oh sure]

[jeno: everything okay? should i have tissues out…?]

[you: omg no like werewolf stuff]

[jeno: oh good]

[you: thanks though. be over in a few]

Standing up from the couch, you stood off to the side of the TV so you didn’t block Shotaro’s show as you announced, “I’ll be right back.”

The siren gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement as his focus remained on the screen. You nodded before hurrying to pull your shoes on. The last thing to do before leaving was shoot off a text to Sungchan.

[you: hey sung, i’ve got a quick errand to run. i should be back before you get home from class, but just in case i’m not, i’ll be coming right back to the apartment! love you!]

“Hey, Jeno, thanks for having me over on such short notice.” You offered your friend a nervous smile as you stepped into his apartment.

“I’m not your professor that you’re seeing outside of his office hours, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind you. “Don’t worry about it. What’s up? You said it’s something about Sungchan?”

“Is your girlfriend here?” You looked around the living room as the two of you sat down.

Jeno tilted his head curiously. “No, she’s at the bakery this afternoon. Did you need her too?”

“Not necessarily, it’s just...” You dropped your head into your hands, frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Try to start at the beginning?”

“Right. Sung let me be with him on the last full moon.”

“Wow. I haven’t even done that.” Jeno sounded genuinely impressed.

“Well… Uhm, do you know? About Sung?”

He stared at you blankly. “Need you to be way more specific here. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

You tried to pick your words carefully to give him enough of a hint if he did know without outright telling him if he didn’t know. You were sure that Sungchan wouldn’t mind if Jeno knew that he was half-werewolf, but you still didn’t feel like that was your place to go around telling people. “About his parents?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Your friend nodded in recognition. “Half-werewolf, that’s why he was able to have you there, duh.”

“Anyway, when he was coming back out of the shift afterwards, he mentioned us... he mentioned the werewolf mating bite.”

His eyes widened as he took a short inhale before slowly starting with, “Well, I can tell that you two haven’t done that.”

“I figured. So, with Sung being half-werewolf, he’s been having a difficult time with the scenting. I think because he can smell it enough to notice it, but not as strongly as full werewolves...”

“He would have a higher threshold for scenting in order to register it, right. Hence your current attire, I’m guessing?” Jeno gestured to the large black leather jacket you were currently drowning in, which was much too hot for the sweltering summer heat that was still going on outside, but still a better option than the hoodie you had previously been in.

You gave a resigned, what-can-you-do smile. “Yeah. And he’s not going to say anything about it, but I know he’s going to be stressed when I see him after this and he can smell you and Jaemin.”

“Oh, definitely.” He snorted lightly, not judgmental, but more sympathetic. “Let me guess: he gets all needy and clingy? Likes to bury his face in your neck?”

“Exactly. And the cuddles would be nice but, I don’t know... I hate seeing him like this, you know? So... anxious. It’s not like him.” You sighed, beginning to feel more guilty the longer you stayed here and got wrapped up in the smells of other people.

“It’s the first time in his life the wolf side is in charge of him and not the other way around. He’s really understanding what it’s like being a full werewolf outside of the full moon, of course he’s not having a good time.”

“Is it like that for you? With her?”

“Kind of. I can smell everything better, so I can smell the subtler things. Without going into too much detail, all those instincts aren’t on edge for me as much as Sungchan’s are right now. And we also figured something else out.”

“Something else?” You asked curiously. Last time you saw Jeno’s girlfriend, you couldn’t remember her having a bite mark. But maybe there was something that hadn’t been covered in your classes. After all, several millennia of the cultures, histories, and customs of fourteen species just couldn’t be fit into one undergrad degree. Your bachelor’s was nothing more than a survey of the two fields, to give you the broad strokes and the tools to start wading in.

Jeno pulled on a leather cord that you hadn’t even noticed was hanging around his neck, bringing a pendant out from under his collar. It was a pale white stone, flat, the size of a coin, with opalescent flecks that caught the light as he showed it to you.

“Moonstone. We have matching ones. They’re even enchanted so that when I…” he wrapped his whole hand around the stone “…hold onto it a little tighter, it reacts, and she can feel hers warm up too. So she knows I’m thinking about her.”

“And it helps with your shifts. That’s really sweet, Jeno,” you said, watching as he tucked it back under his shirt, presumably to keep it in skin-to-skin contact so he could feel if she squeezed her gem back in response.

“But that’s what works for us. It needs to be whatever works for you guys.”

You looked down at your fingers nervously. “But you two haven’t even…”

“I haven’t bit her?” The werewolf said bluntly.

“Yeah, and you’ve been together for a lot longer than us.”

“We’re not you and Sungchan. We may have set you guys up, but we’re not you.”

“You set us up? What?” That little off-hand comment had stolen your focus for the moment.

Jeno’s brow furrowed. “Did you never get the full story of how you got sent on that first blind date with him?”

“I mean, Jaemin had shown me a picture of him from your Instagram account, and I knew that you two knew each other through your girlfriend. But no, I guess I never did get the whole story. Jaemin said something about a deal, I think…”

His wide eyes and ‘oh shit’ face said it all. With a wince, he sighed, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you this…”

“What? Jeno, come on,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together in front of you like you were kneeling at an altar.

“Ah, fine, fine.” He gave in easily, regret immediately coming to his features as you perked up, eager to hear the story. “We were all playing soccer one day and her—” he jerked his thumb at the empty space on the couch beside him that the both of you had both been vaguely referring to whenever you mentioned his girlfriend. “—and Sungchan made this bet. You see, something had happened at the park that day. There was another werewolf there, and he called my girlfriend something nasty. And Sungchan was saying that because of stuff like that, he wanted to just stick with dating other werewolves. He also kept saying something about love making my brain rot. It made sense in context. Sort of.”

You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt Jeno for fear that you’d get him off-track and lose your opportunity.

“Anyway, they made a bet that if she was on Sungchan’s team and did her best in the game against me, then Sungchan would let her set him up on one blind date with anybody, werewolf or not. And he wasn’t allowed to intentionally bomb it, he had to actually put in a genuine effort.”

“And I was that date…” You surmised, several pieces falling into place. Specifically, Jaemin and Donghyuck’s initial pitch of Sungchan to you.

“Jaemin suggested you, and we thought the two of you would be a good fit.”

You added humorously, “And I’m not a werewolf.”

“Well, yeah.” Jeno ducked his head sheepishly like he was a puppy that was afraid you were going to notice the shoes that he had chewed up behind him. “But we really did put a lot of thought into it, I swear. And then when we heard he made you walk out in ten minutes, we were actually going to make him go on another one because we thought that he had sabotaged his one with you.”

“Amazingly, no, I think that really was his best effort at the time.” You snickered.

“Now I feel like I have to apologize for subjecting you to him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, he said he didn’t want to go on another date, he had to fix things with you first. She let up on him after that. Apparently believed his mind had been changed.”

“I don’t know how a ten-minute conversation where he practically accused me of being a werewolf fetishist for dating two werewolves, and I asked about his major and told him about my cheating ex could’ve possibly changed his mind but— Hey, look how far we’ve come.”

“And now you know the story of how you two ended up on that ten-minute, awful, terrible blind date that I almost wish we didn’t send you on now that I’ve heard what happened on it.”

“I’ve had worse dates.”

“But like I was saying. We—” he pointed between himself and the empty space proxy of his girlfriend “—are not you two. Just like in human relationships, the big steps happen at different times for everyone, there isn’t one right answer to when a werewolf couple take on each other’s bites. There’s even less of a blueprint for werewolf-human couples. So as far as I’m concerned, you and Sungchan? A half-werewolf and human couple? You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.”

“Unprecedented…” You repeated to yourself, drumming your fingers along your knee.

You and Jeno chatted for a few more minutes about this and that, but you soon decided that you’d have to be going. Sungchan had texted you the full sequence of finishing class, leaving campus, and arriving home while you’d been talking, and there was a pinch at your heart as you could imagine him getting more anxious with each passing minute that you weren’t there. And then there were the smells that you were going to have to deal with once you did return, too.

As Jeno walked you to the front door, your eyes drifted over to the kitchen, an idea popping into your head.

“Hey, Jeno? Can I have a glass of water?”

“Sung?” You called out into the seemingly empty apartment as you turned to close and lock the front door up. “I’m— oof!”

You were knocked off kilter by 186cm of werewolf, barely catching yourself against the door on your forearms to avoid bonking your forehead into it. Sungchan had his arms wrapped around your waist, already nosing around your hair and neck.

“Hi…” Sungchan said against your cheek, his tone apologetic. He got too excited, he didn’t mean to almost KO you like that.

Slowly, you reached over to finish flicking the deadbolt into the locked position. Then, you blindly stretched a hand back to pat him on the head. “Hey, hey.” You kept your voice calm and soothing.

He was getting down to the collar of the shirt you were wearing—one of his t-shirts, and you could feel him shifting to hold you tighter. He’d definitely noticed something was off.

“You know, I’m really sorry, Sung,” you began, turning your tone mournful and looking down at the wet patch on the front of your shirt. “I know this is your shirt, I feel really bad about this, but I spilled water on myself while I was out. Do you think I can throw this one in your wash here and borrow a new one?”

He immediately perked up at this, “Yeah, of course!”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

Success.

After your dinner and night out together in downtown, you ended up back in Sungchan’s room, fitted in your new crewneck sweater—this one for a concert he’d gone to last year. You were reclined between his legs against his chest as you half-watched him game, half-scrolled on your phone, and half-snoozed. You’d been playing the game in multi-player mode with him earlier but put your controller aside some time ago when you’d let out a couple loud yawns. Ruminating thoughts of your conversation with Jeno had kept you from fully falling asleep, though.

“Sung?” You waited for a pause on a loading screen to call for his attention.

“Mm?” He hummed back to let you know he was listening, even as the new map loaded in. He hadn’t moved his character yet, fingers frozen as they hovered over the buttons.

“Can we talk for a second?”

“Of course.” Your boyfriend quickly saved and exited the game, setting the controller beside yours on the nightstand.

He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you tighter to him, resting his chin on your shoulder as he waited attentively for you to start with whatever you needed to talk about. You could hear him take a pause to sniff the air around you, and a small, disgruntled sound came from the back of his throat almost immediately.

“Face-to-face?” You requested quietly.

“Right, sorry.”

He loosened his arms, reluctantly letting them fall from around you.

Pushing yourself up off his legs into a full sitting position, you turned around in place, still finding yourself between his thighs. He straightened up a little bit from his spot against the headboard.

You reached out to take his hands in yours. “This is something that really stresses you out, isn’t it? The smells?”

“It’s… I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like…” He took one of his hands back to run his fingers through his hair, and your chest hurt to see the distress on his features. “Imagine being able to constantly see something right in the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head, you can’t actually look at it. You know it’s there, but you can never actually get a proper look. Humans never know it’s there, and werewolves get to look at it head-on. But I don’t get either. It’s terrible.”

“Ah, Sung… That sounds awful, baby.” You grimaced sympathetically, unable to imagine how wound up and panicky he must be all the time. You just wanted to cut this conversation short right now to wrap your arms around him, rub his back and tell him you were never going to leave him again. But for right now, all you could do was squeeze his hand tighter, and hope he got the message.

“I know that sometimes you smell right and sometimes you don’t. But I don’t know why, usually. And it’s not like you smell bad like you need a shower or anything. But like… ah, I can’t describe it.” He groaned, rubbing his face. “I don’t even know what I’m smelling all the time. But it’s just—”

“Not right. I get it, that made sense. And it’s better when I wear your clothes, or spend time with you? Here?”

“I’m sorry…” He said weakly.

“Woah, hey, where in there was I asking for an apology? I’m trying to figure this out together, okay? Not make you feel bad for being unable to turn your nose off. I don’t like that you’re this stressed all the time, you know?”

“In my normal, thinking brain I know you should—and I want you to—be able to wear whatever clothes you want to wear. And I’m glad that you’re spending time with your friends, and I want to go wherever you want to go, whether that’s out somewhere, or to your place. I loved our date night out tonight. It’s not those actual things that bother me at all, it’s just that you smell different.”

“I know, I know.” You reassured him, continuing to hold his hand and gently rubbing his forearm with your free hand. “So maybe there’s something more permanent we can do to help you with the smells?”

Sungchan met your gaze uncertainly. “Permanent?”

“You mentioned it after your last shift. Me taking your bite. I found one other half-werewolf/human couple who did it, online, and they said it helped with the scent anxiety.”

“Y/N…” He breathed your name out.

“I understand if you’re not ready for it. I know it’s a really big step for werewolves. But I had to put it out there, if there’s any possibility that it’ll help.”

“This is not how I imagined this conversation going at all.”

“What?”

“The human reassuring the werewolf that it’s okay if the werewolf isn’t ready for a mating bite yet.” He laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh my god. We really are one-of-a-kind, huh?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle too. “When you put it like that, that is pretty funny. You thought you were going to have to convince me, huh?”

“I wasn’t going to badger you into it if you didn’t want it, that’s for sure. But I mean, I didn’t bring it up again after my last shift because I wanted to do it more… I don’t know, romantically than being a sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess in your lap. I just hadn’t figured out how to do that yet because I’ve been too focused on spending every spare second I can with you.”

“I thought you were a very cute sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess when you asked me last time,” you giggled.

“Right, thanks.”

“So, do you want to do it, then?”

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

Jeno’s words came back to you: You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be doing anything any specific way, Sung. We just do it. But if you want to ask me, go for it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. After a few beats of silence, though, you pinched his thigh teasingly, “I’m waiting.”

“What—Right now? Really putting me on the spot.” Sungchan rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Well when else—”

“No, I’ve got it.” He squared his shoulders, face turning serious as he turned his eyes to you. Briefly kissing the back of your fingers first, he began, his voice much shakier than you had expected, “Y/N, I’m ready to give you my mating bite, if you will accept it. But I don’t want it to just be me biting you. I-I want you to do whatever you need to do to make it feel complete to you, too. Since you can’t give me one back. If that’s okay with you?”

Despite you (mostly) knowing what was coming, you still unexpectedly found yourself tearing up as you went to nod your head yes. “Of course, Sung. That’d be perfect, yes. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out, but yes, I love that.”

“I love you.”

You stood up on your knees to wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss before burying your face in his collar. “I love you, too.”

Sungchan hugged you back tightly, pulling you back with him into almost the same position as before, with you against his chest. He pressed kisses to any part of you that he could access, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your ear. You turned your head enough so that the next one he could plant on your lips, a sweet, loving kiss.

“Ah…” He sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, a bright smile on his face.

“What?” You traced over the smile lines at the corner of his eye.

He was almost nose-to-nose with you when his beautiful brown eyes were open again. Looking at you, he admitted freely, “I’m just… so happy.”

“Me too.” You beamed.

“And I can’t believe I almost let myself miss out on this, on you, so many times.”

“Let’s see… the night we actually got together.” You teased, ticking the instances off on your fingers.

“Mm-hm.” A pink flush was starting to creep up Sungchan’s neck.

“Valentine’s Day at the boba shop. Which you owe me emotional damages for, by the way.”

“Yeah. Sorry…” The pink had overtaken his neck and was starting to flush his cheeks.

“Our first date.”

Completely red-faced, he nodded and sighed. “Like I said, I’m just happy that—”

“Oh, and the bet.”

“Huh?” He was entirely frozen, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes.

“I saw Jeno today,” you stated.

“Yes, I did smell him when you came home.”

“I finally got the full story of how you ended up on our blind date, Sung.”

“Listen, I am a proud member of the Love-Rotten Brains Club now.” He tightened his arms around you and nuzzled his nose along your cheek and neck as he spoke, making his lips brush over your skin in ghosts of kisses. “I’m the president and the whole board and the social media intern and whatever else. Never have I ever been more proud of being wrong. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Ah!” You squirmed and laughed as he was over a ticklish spot. “Alright, you don’t have to do that. But I’m glad they pushed you out of your comfort zone.”

Sungchan let up, allowing you to simply rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“To my credit, I was the one who offered the terms of that bet in the first place.”

“Really? You had to know that they were definitely going to set you up with someone who was not a werewolf, right?”

“I knew. I figured I could make polite small talk for an hour and be done with my end.”

You couldn’t help but laugh loudly, from the gut. “Oh, baby, if polite small talk was your goal, then you failed miserably.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he said remorsefully.

“Now, I’ve got to know.” You poked his chest pointedly. “Everyone seems convinced that you were like, in love with me and a changed man from that one plane crash of a conversation. Shotaro says that you kept walking around talking about how you wanted to apologize to me for weeks after. Jeno and his girlfriend didn’t set you up on another date despite you not really holding up your end because she was content that you had changed your mind. So?”

Sungchan’s chest rose and fell under you with a deep breath, and he took a pause as if piecing together his thoughts before responding. “Even if we didn’t end up meeting again, I think that date with you was always going to be an important lesson for me, about getting my head out of my ass. I’m just glad I got to take what I learned back to you and apologize and show you that. Like, yeah, our first date was only a few minutes, but I kind of hate to admit that I thought about it for weeks afterwards, because that sounds like weirdo behavior. I mean, literally until the night we saw each other at the boba place. It’s not that it was even romantic at that point, it was more guilt than anything else. I knew I was in the wrong, and I felt awful that I might not be able to tell you that I knew that.”

“I’m glad you found me again at the boba shop. Not a lot of guys would’ve had the guts to actually apologize. Probably would’ve grabbed their drink and ran. Or ran as soon as they saw me and not even ordered.”

“I just wish I had the guts to actually ask you out that night.”

“Me too. But I’m not entirely blameless either. The start of our relationship isn’t a weight that falls solely on your shoulders just because you’re the guy, or the werewolf, or whatever.” You shrugged. “And we figured it out eventually anyway.”

“Yeah, we did.” Sungchan pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Stopping in front of a familiar red brick townhouse, you ran up the couple short steps to knock on the front door before you could psych yourself out. You and Sungchan had decided to go through with the mating bite after the next full moon in one week, which was a couple days after the end of the summer semester. It gave him time to focus on his finals, and fell in the two-week break between the summer semester ending and the fall semester starting. This was going to be your last year as undergraduates, both you and Sungchan were graduating in the spring. You could hardly believe that you only had two more semesters left of your bachelor’s degree. And then you had grad school.

But right now, you had this: The front door being opened to reveal Mr. Jung to you, a smile immediately crossing his face as he recognized you. Even behind the glasses perched on his nose, you could easily see Sungchan in his features.

“Hi, Mr. Jung,” you greeted him politely.

“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He tucked the pen that was in his hand behind his ear. “Here to see Jieun?”

“Uh, no. Sorry to just drop in, but I wanted to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have time for some tea?”

He backed up, waving you in. “Sure, of course. Come on in.”

“Thank you.” You walked in with a grateful head dip, taking your denim Jasmine & Pearls baseball cap off as you passed over the threshold of the front door.

“Sungchan’s got a hat just like that,” Mr. Jung commented, leading you further into the home. “Or is that one his?”

“Oh, we actually won them in a game at the boba shop that Shotaro works at. We each have our own.” You looked over the purple embroidered logo fondly. “It’s kind of how we met. The second time.”

“Right, the boba tea place that Shotaro works at…” He echoed, recognition in his tone.

You followed Mr. Jung upstairs, which you didn’t get to see the last time you’d been over for dinner. He led you into a room with wallpaper depicting cartoon spaceships, planets, moons, and stars. The ceiling was covered in glow in the dark stars, and even the curtains were embroidered with star maps. The furniture itself was set up to be an adult’s home office, though, despite the shell having clearly been a child’s bedroom. There were still some shelves on the wall with trophies from science fairs and sports teams.

“Sorry, Jieun doesn’t drink tea, and the electric kettle in the kitchen is busted.” Mr. Jung half-explained why he’d brought you in here, another electric kettle in his hand. “Give me a second, I need to fill this up.”

“Of course,” you nodded, not entirely paying attention to what he was saying. Truly, you were still looking around at what was obviously Sungchan’s childhood bedroom.

Any kids’ furniture was gone and replaced with a desk, laptop, two chairs, and a printer. But you didn’t mind, as you leaned in to read the little engravings on his science fair trophies, and from his soccer teams, and baseball teams, and spelling bees, and mathletes competitions—god, you were dating a mathlete? He’d failed to mention that. There was a picture that looked like it was from a field trip from primary school, of his whole class in front of a space shuttle at the closest space and natural history museum. You squinted your eyes as you studied the picture, trying to figure out which one was your boyfriend.

“Sungchan’s the really tall one that you probably thought was a teacher’s helper,” Mr. Jung said humorously, announcing his return.

You turned around, the picture still in your hand, and your eyes immediately landed on the child he was referring to. Gangly, awkward, nearly a head taller than the rest of the kids, but still smiling so brightly—his crooked smile gap-toothed at that moment in time—because he was just so, so excited to be there.

“Ah, yep. There he is,” you smiled fondly, setting the picture back down.

“He gets his height from Jieun’s father. In case you were curious.”

Mr. Jung set the kettle back on its stand on the desk and started heating it up. He cleared a huge stack of papers off a second chair that was next to the desk, then gestured for you to sit. You did so, watching him take down a couple mugs from the shelves over his desk, and pull open the top drawer to root around in it.

“Jasmine?” He asked.

“That sounds lovely, thank you.”

He took out one tin, right as the kettle made a small ding to let him know the water was ready. Mr. Jung poured the water into both mugs first, then took out a couple small, empty pouches. He measured out the loose jasmine tea into each before sealing them and dropping them in the water.

“I figured you would’ve wanted to talk to Jieun about the bite,” he said as he handed you your cup. “Also, let me know if you want some honey for that.”

“I’m good on the honey, thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “So he told you already.”

The other human eased himself down into the office chair in front of you. “Yes, Sungchan’s been keeping us appraised. He was nervous to tell us at first, since you two haven’t been together very long.”

“Well, yes—”

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s a decision for you and Sungchan to make, not his parents.”

That put you at ease again. “Thank you.”

“And it did make Jieun laugh when she heard that you were the one who did the mating bite talk with him. She likes you a lot. We both do.”

“Oh, thanks…”

“So why did you want to see me? I’m always happy to have some tea with you, but it sounded like you came with a purpose.”

“I wanted to ask about what it’s like? Taking a werewolf’s mating bite as a human?” You plunged into the conversation head-first. “The only other werewolf/human couple we know hasn’t done it, so I don’t really have a point of reference. Like, in class, I’ve learned about the sociocultural importance of it within werewolf packs for mated werewolf couples, but… Sung and I are a bit different, you know?”

Mr. Jung nodded thoughtfully. “I can tell you what my personal experience is, sure. It may be different for you since Sungchan is half-werewolf.”

“Right, of course.” You sat forward, interested. Blowing over your tea, you took your first sip, the lightness of the jasmine dancing across your tongue.

“The biting itself hurts at first. If we were werewolves, my understanding is that it’s nearly painless since their bodies are prepared for it. Humans, not so much.” He rubbed at his mark absentmindedly. “So it will hurt, which I’m sure my son will feel awful about. The shoulder will be a little sore for maybe half an hour or so after, but he won’t even draw blood. And it heals very fast, too. Then you’ll be left with the mark. Werewolves who receive bites have something happen biologically in them with pheromones or something. Again, we don’t have that going on. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be meaningful for you at all. That meaning will just manifest differently, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jung. That was really informative.” You took another drink of your tea.

“Of course. And you know that it’s not a one and done, right?” He warned.

You let out a half-chuckle. “I do know that, yes.”

“Again, I don’t know how much it’ll vary since Sungchan is half-human, but the bite will need to be refreshed more often than if you were both werewolves. My guess would be even more frequently than if he were a full werewolf, but that’s just purely speculation.”

“That would make sense. Thanks for the heads up.” You said, watching the metal of his wedding band glint as he lifted his mug to his mouth. “Can I ask… when did you take your wife’s bite?”

Mr. Jung sighed, a bittersweet sort of smile coming to his face. “It was before we were married. We’d been dating for some time at that point, a couple years. When we first got together, there were some… vocally unhappy members of her pack, but they did quiet down after a while. However, I think they hadn’t expected us to last so long, or that Jieun was just going through a phase or something. After a while they started pressuring Jieun to break up with me and date within her pack— or at least another werewolf. We’d discussed the bite once or twice before, and she thought that if I took it on, it would make everyone leave us alone; that we’d look like any other mated pair of werewolves. It ended up doing the opposite. It was way too far in the eyes of Jieun’s pack. I already knew at that point that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, so from there we eloped, settled down here, eventually had Sungchan a few years later.”

“And you all… have you spoken to her pack again since?”

“No. Unfortunately Sungchan has never been able to meet his family on that side. I suggested it to Jieun when she was pregnant, but she looked me in the eye and asked me if her pack reacted that way just to us being together, then could I imagine what sort of awful things they might think of our child? And would I want to put our baby through that just for some romanticized idea of family? I never brought it up again.”

“What about your family?”

There was no more bitterness in his smile anymore, just pure love and fondness. “They’ve been incredible. Never looked at Jieun or Sungchan as anything other than family. I know Sungchan would probably rather have the pack but—”

“What do you mean?” You couldn’t help but blurt out, furrowing your brow in confusion.

“I know he doesn’t tell people he’s half-human. And really, it’s alright. I get it, being a human isn’t anything to brag about.” Mr. Jung sounded like he really had come to terms with that, that his son would rather not tell people about his dad, about where he came from. Which wasn’t even true.

“That’s not why he tells people he’s only a werewolf. He’s not ashamed of you, or of what he is, on either side. He loves you, a lot. He does that because if he tells people that he’s half-human half-werewolf up front, they take it as a free pass to ask him weird questions.”

The man’s face relaxed, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “I never realized that. Thank you, Y/N.”

“And I mean, you didn’t need me to tell you that. Just look around you. It’s not like he’s exactly got wallpaper of spreadsheets and supply/demand graphs in here, right?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at that. “You’re right. It’s… comforting, though, to have outside confirmation.”

“I know, I get it.”

Mr. Jung gazed past you, out the window behind your head wistfully, taking another sip of his tea. “Growing up how he did… we—Jieun and I—were worried about him for a while, you know.”

“Worried how?”

“Well, that he’d spend so much time trying to protect himself from what our life was like, that he wouldn’t actually be looking for what he wanted.” Mr. Jung’s eyes focused back on yours then, and he smiled at you. “But as soon as he brought you home, we knew we could rest easy.”

“Because I’m human?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, lifting his mug to take another relaxed sip of his tea. “We would’ve loved you if you were human, werewolf, fairy, dragon, anything.”

“I’m sorry but… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“When he was in high school… he and his mom used to get into fights. Teenager hormones, half-werewolf teenager hormones… it was a lot. I know the fact that he was the only half-werewolf at his school, and the only werewolf not in a pack, too, didn’t help either. A lot of it was Sungchan not understanding his mother’s choices, either about leaving her pack, or dating a human in the first place, or not going back to the pack, or whatever else he decided she’d done wrong that day. He’d pretty much always declare that he’d make the ‘better choice.’” Mr. Jung put air-quotes around the last two words. “You know, have a werewolf partner so that his family wouldn’t get harassed, join his future partner’s pack, things like that. Sungchan mellowed out a bit more after he started college, and they started properly getting along again once he moved out last year.”

That mostly lined up with what Jeno had told you about his conversation with Sungchan at the park, his previous policy to only date other werewolves. You frowned thoughtfully, taking a long, slow drink of tea.

“Seeing how Sungchan is with you… he’s not hiding from anything,” he finished fondly.

“I’m sorry I was so dismissive before, Mr. Jung,” you finally said, your voice quiet and contemplative. “When you were talking about Sungchan not telling people he’s half-human. I jumped in completely forgetting that you’ve known him for his whole life… and there could’ve been a lot more reasons why you would’ve thought he was ashamed to be human.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Mr. Jung put his tea down on the desk, perching on the front of his seat to gently place a hand on your forearm. “It’s okay, really. For one, I know you meant well. And two, we know Sungchan very differently. Obviously, yes, I’ve known him his whole life, but you were lucky enough to meet him now, when he has some stuff already kind of figured out. And I’m very glad you did. Because trust me, you should not have met Sungchan in high school. I love my son, I’ve always loved him, but I definitely do not think that if you two had met in high school, you and I would be sharing a cup of tea right now.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, thinking not only of the high school version of Sungchan that had just been recollected to you by Mr. Jung, but also of yourself in high school, who honestly wasn’t any more put together. “Yeah… I don’t talk to any of my high school boyfriends anymore. Saw one of their moms at the grocery store last week actually, and she still recognized me, gave me a nasty look, and blocked the aisle with her shopping cart so I couldn’t get by her. I dated her son almost five years ago now, I think?”

The other human laughed, giving your arm a couple pats before taking his hand away and reclining back in his desk chair again. “Not to mention, if we both had known him his entire life, then I wouldn’t get to tell you any of the fun stories about him as a kid. Has he told you he was a mathlete?”

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Team captain junior and senior year. They were semi-finalists both years he was captain and even won the State series his senior year.”

“Did he have like a little dweebus uniform or something?”

“Polo shirt, khaki cargo shorts, the whole nine.”

“Please tell me you have pictures.”

“Oh yeah, him and Shotaro.”

“Taro too?!”

[you: attached image]

[you: attached image]

[taro: HOW DID YOU GET THOSE?????????]

[taro: WHAT THE HELL I MADE SUNGCHAN PROMISE ME THOSE WOULD NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN]

[you: did you make Mr. Jung promise you though?]

[taro: does sungchan know that you’re getting blackmail material from your new bestie, HIS DAD??]

[you: what do you mean blackmail material?? personally, i think you look SO cute in those pictures in your little mathletes uniform]

[you: i didn’t even know sirens could need glasses and braces]

[you: wait does this mean you wear contacts??? i feel like it’s illegal to know this]

[taro: it is, now i have to kill you]

[you: ooooohh, wait till i tell sung]

[taro: not if i drown you first]

[you: you can’t kill me, i know where Mr. Jung keeps the mathletes photos]

[taro: damn it]

[you: and the ones from your first school dance]

[taro: DOES THIS MAN JUST HAVE A SHOEBOX LABELED “OSAKI SHOTARO BLACKMAIL MATERIAL” OR SOMETHING WHAT THE FUCK]

[you: no it’s labeled “jung sungchan blackmail material” actually but you just happen to be in a lot of the pictures too]

[taro: wait for real?]

[you: no, dumbass, he’s sungchan’s dad, of course he’s going to have a lot of old photos of his son and by extension, his son’s friends]

[taro: don’t get a guy’s hopes up like that, damn]

[taro: alright come on, let me see the bad pics you got of sungchan now]

[you: noooo, they’re not bad, they’re actually really cute 🥹🥹]

[you: attached images(+5)]

[you: like just LOOK at my little guy 🥹 he was so little and cute]

[taro: the FUCK are you talking about]

[taro: he’s clearly like 20cm taller than me and everyone else INCLUDING THE TEACHER SPONSOR]

[you: yeah, and he’s JUST a little guy, so little and cute]

[you: i wouldn’t expect you to get it, taro…………sigh]

[taro: attached image]

[taro: THIS IS YOUR MANS????]

[you: WELL WHEN YOU ZOOM IN ON ANYBODY’S FACE LIKE THAT OF COURSE IT’LL LOOK A BIT OFF]

[taro: the favoritism is so real right now]

[you: i’m so tired of your dramatic ass like what fucking “favoritism” 😭😭 of course i like sung better he’s my boyfriend]

[taro: and??]

[you: you’re not??? the fuck you mean “and??”]

[taro: and i think a good friend should be fair and impartial]

[you: i came here to name and shame you to your face, not to be fair and impartial i don’t know how you could’ve been under any other impression]

[taro: i’m so telling sungchan about this]

[you: don’t forget to leave in the part where i called him cute and you intentionally manipulated a picture of him to make him look worse]

[taro: i regret ever setting you two up]

[you: actually jeno and them did it first]

[taro: and i should’ve left you two crashed and burned and SINGLE where i found you]

[you: love you taro 🫶]

[taro: nice try demon that lives in my apartment and doesn’t pay rent 🫶🫶🫶]

[you: SUNGCHAN DOESN’T LET ME WHEN I TRY TO CHIP IN FOR HOW MUCH I’M OVER THERE I SWEAR]

[taro: i figured, which is why i don’t let him pay more than his half either]

[you: then why are you being mean to me about it 🥺]

[taro: do you feel bad enough that you’ll delete those mathlete photos off your phone now?]

[you: nice try demon that i’m never paying rent to 🫶🫶🫶]

Pushing open the door to the next shop on this street, you were pleasantly surprised by the calm, quaint atmosphere that you were greeted by. The bright red and gold pillars outside of the toy and watch shop had suggested otherwise, but inside of it were a few display cases filled with watches and other pieces of jewelry, while the other half of the shop had shelves upon shelves of toys. Every item in the store seemed handmade, and even to your untrained eye, you could tell that several had magical properties. A girl about your age was behind one of the watch and jewelry counters towards the front of the store, which also had the register on it. She was fiddling with an open watch, and you watched as she readjusted the light of the lamp above her with just a flick of her wrist—not touching a single button or switch on the device. All the jewelry and other accessories she was wearing already made you think she might’ve been a witch, but that just locked it in for you.

Some music played throughout the store, though you couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from, as there were no visible speakers on the ceiling or elsewhere. Briefly dragging your eyes over the display cases as you strolled up towards the employee, you spotted quite a few watches, of course, as well as necklaces, rings, earrings, and small trinkets. But nothing that quite stuck out to you as what you were looking for.

The witch perked up as you came to a stop in front of her, setting her tiny tools down on the small rag alongside the watch pieces. “Hi! Welcome in. Is there something I can help you with?”

“This is a magical kind of shop, right?” You asked curiously. Apothecaries usually stuck out as such, but having a witch and a couple things that glowed didn’t guarantee anything.

“Yep! This place is ran by my coven!” She told you proudly. “We make everything in here by hand in the back, fine tune the mechanics and the magic ourselves. Are you looking for any particular kind of magic thing?”

“Yes, well, sort of…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I’m kind of gift shopping right now.”

“What’s the occasion?”

After a split-second internal debate, you figured this witch had probably dealt with weirder, and you would definitely need her insight and experience when it came to the magical properties of all of the options in front of you.

“My boyfriend is giving me his mating bite in a few days, but I don’t want to show up empty-handed, you know?” You scratched at the back of your neck. “Like, it’s not an engagement-level thing for us, but it’s still big, and I want to be able to give him something too…”

She didn’t seem thrown off in the slightest, instead seeming to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin, before her features lit up, and she slid over to the other end of the display case. You followed her down.

“Now, I’m guessing you already know about moonstone—” She explained, pulling out a small display of rings. “Helps their shifts.”

You nodded as you looked over the many rings inlaid with opalescent stones like the one on Jeno’s necklace. “Yeah. And, I mean, his aren’t that bad. Just sort of… disorienting and confusing. Though I hate how sickly he gets the day or so after.”

The witch gave you an intrigued look. “He’s… half-werewolf?”

Darting your eyes back up to her, you wondered which part of what you just said had given it away. The less intense shift? The ‘sickly’ bit?

“And half-human?” She took your silence as an apparent cue to finish her guess.

You slowly nodded.

Immediately, the rings were whisked away from under your nose. She was practically alight with excitement as she flitted over to a completely different display case, grabbing just one singular piece from there and bringing it back over to you. It was another ring, a thick silver band of one width, with no obvious gem settings or other such features.

“So, you wouldn’t really be worried about the shift itself, then. Or, at least not the pain part, which is really what the moonstone helps werewolves with. Easing the transition into and during the shift.” The employee rambled enthusiastically. “The symptoms that he really has a problem with are about getting back into balance after. Since he’s half-human, his body has to work a lot harder to return to homeostasis after an ordeal like a werewolf shift.”

“He’s said something about that before. Homeostasis.”

“Then what you really want is something like this—” She offered the ring out for you to take, depositing it onto your palm. You curiously looked it over closer. “Instead of moonstone, like most things designed for werewolves, this has concentrated moonflower essence in the chamber that makes up most of the band.”

You tilted the ring and could in fact see a small amount of mostly clear, but shimmery iridescent cobalt blue liquid shift around in the light. The container that held the liquid must have been incredibly thin to fit along the ring whilst adding negligible bulk.

Moonflower was of course familiar to you from Magical Botany Club. While the plant itself wasn’t magical, it had a slew of magical applications, and could be distilled down to a magical essence. Much like moonstone, which also wasn’t in and of itself magical, it had an effect on magical beings that were also tied to the moon, most notably, werewolves. Moonflower paste was a common ingredient in traditional werewolf medicine, and even in modern pharmaceuticals, many medications with different formulations for werewolves—or formulated to treat diseases that only werewolves got—often had ingredients derived from the moonflower. In addition to healing properties, the smell tended to have a calming effect on them as well, both in and out of their shifts (unlike moonstone, which exclusively aided their shifts).

You had a moonflower plant in your own apartment, which had been useless for any werewolf purposes as of late with Sungchan never coming over, but hopefully it wouldn’t be that way for long. It had been slightly altered so that it would be suited to growing indoors; moonflower was typically a vine, which was difficult to keep in a one-bedroom apartment with limited balcony space, so after a little bit of help from Jaemin, your moonflower grew as a cute little potted bush instead.

But there was still one more feature on the ring that hadn’t been explained to you. A single, silver, almost-circle on one side of the outside of the ring, entirely flush with the top of the container that held the moonflower essence. The outline of the rest of the circle was there, but it wasn’t quite filled in all the way, a small crescent of darkness keeping the silver from being whole.

“And this?” You gestured to the symbol.

“Tracks the lunar cycle. Waxing gibbous, we’re just a couple days away from the full moon. He probably instinctually knows what phase of the moon it is, but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra reminder.”

Turning the ring over in your hand again, you found yourself nodding and smiling. “Yeah. This is perfect.”

“And you said it’s happening in a few days? So after the full moon, right?”

“Oh, uhm, yes.”

“We could totally make another by then, if you wanted a matching set,” she offered.

“Really? So quick?”

“A lot of the initial process is the R&D,” the witch explained with a laugh. “But we already know how to make this one, it’ll be easy. Promise.”

You thought this over for a moment. After telling so many people that it wasn’t marriage or engagement, getting matching rings… But the whole point of exchanging mating bites in the first place was to match. Well, almost, since no two werewolves would have the same bite. To coordinate. To give each other your own version of the same thing. Your own version of the same thing.

“Do you think you could make it without the chamber with the moonflower essence, actually?” You asked. “Like, still with the lunar tracker. Just the main band and the little part that tracks the lunar cycle.”

She lit up. “Absolutely! Should be even quicker, actually. Probably have that done by the end of business tomorrow, morning after tomorrow at the latest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! Say the word and I’ll start as soon as you leave.”

“Yes, please!”

Sungchan hadn’t let go of you once since you arrived at his apartment the evening that you were to be receiving his bite. Either with an arm around your waist, pressed up against your back, or holding your hand. Shotaro had already vacated the premises by the time you’d gotten there, a half-excuse of him staying at Jisung and Chenle’s place tonight being given by the werewolf when you asked.

The two of you ate dinner first. He wanted to feed you, making sure you had eaten and were hydrated before. You were finally taking your class on werewolves this looming fall semester, and had already bought and read ahead in the textbook for it. Specifically, you’d lost count of the amount of times that you’d read and re-read the sections on mating bites, mating bite rituals, and anything else that you could imagine would be relevant to your current predicament.

For mated werewolf couples in packs who were going through the actual ritual, the first step was to usually share a meal consisting of raw meat—fresh kill. Neither you nor Sungchan could or would actually eat that, so you just had a hearty serving of your favorite takeout orders.

Sungchan didn’t even let you sit in your own chair, having insistently pulled you into his lap right at their kitchen table, lifting bite after bite of food to your mouth, always sure to follow it up with your slowly draining glass of water. You were mindful of him, too, making sure he didn’t ignore his half-werewolf appetite in his concern over you.

“‘M full, Sung…” You murmured, gently covering his hand with yours to maneuver the food towards his mouth instead.

He frowned thoughtfully, not parting his lips even as you bumped the spoon against them, looking like a very serious toddler who wasn’t enjoying the game of airplane being played at the moment. “You sure?”

“Yeah, promise.” You nodded with a smile. “It was delicious, and I’m all done. You took good care of me, Sung. Can you let me finish taking care of you, now?”

Your boyfriend’s features softened at that, and he parted his mouth, letting you feed him the spoonful. He happily chewed and swallowed, looking especially blissed out as you gently scratched his scalp with your free hand. In between continuing to feed Sungchan, you finished off your water, and made sure he drank his as well.

Finally, he too declared that he was done eating. Curled up in your boyfriend’s embrace, with a full belly and a full heart, you could’ve almost thought that this was any normal night; nearly forgotten what was going to come next. Nearly.

Sungchan took you to his room next, which wasn’t really necessary, since you had the whole apartment to yourselves. He held you to him with an arm around your waist as he shut the door behind you two. You raised an eyebrow when you heard the door lock.

He buried his face in your neck, wrapping both arms around you now as he half-growled, “Smells like Shotaro out there…”

“Locking the door to keep the smells out…” You hummed in amusement, leaning your head on his shoulder and resting your weight back against him. You decided not to outright point out the flaw in logic there, nor the fact that the two of you could’ve also done this at your place, where there was no smells of Shotaro or anybody else, just you. But of course, you figured it needed to be here because it smelled like Sungchan. It had been so long since Sungchan had been to your home that you were doubtful even a full werewolf would be able to catch a trace of him.

He lifted his head and breathed in like he was about to say something, but you just pulled his arms tighter around you and reassured him, “It’s perfect, Sung. Our own little space. Just you and me.”

Dropping his cheek back down to your shoulder, Sungchan let out a long but shaky breath. Putting your hands over his, your slotted your fingers with your boyfriend’s.

“Sung? Baby? Everything okay?” You asked.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this…”

“Hey, if you’re not ready for this, we can stop. If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay.”

“No, I want to,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. He coughed, his voice softening again but sounding a little strained as he continued, “Really. I mean… I can’t believe I’m doing this with you. I seriously thought I’d royally fucked things up forever. Multiple times.”

“Well, you didn’t,” you told him strongly. “Now, can I go first?”

“You… go first?” He repeated, confusion coloring his voice so clearly. Apparently, he’d forgotten that you’d be doing more than just getting bitten tonight.

“Aw, I would love to, thanks, Sung,” you tittered jokingly, patting his cheek. “Close your eyes, please?”

He chuckled, and a beat later, announced, “Okay, they’re closed.”

You craned your neck just the slightest to be able to peer at him out of the corner of your vision, seeing that he was in fact squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Reaching into your pocket, you retrieved the small pouch that you’d picked up from the coven’s shop this morning. You shook out the two rings inside into your palm, and put yours on your left middle finger first, a simple silver band with the lunar indicator welded into it. It looked almost like a full moon, but you could see just the faintest strip of black showing that it was actually beginning to wane. Next, you gently put the other on Sungchan’s right ring finger, his with a faint shimmer of the moonflower essence.

Holding the side of his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek, you declared, “Done. You can open your eyes.”

He did so, immediately holding up his hand to inspect what you’d done to it. As he looked over the new jewelry, you explained, “It has moonflower essence, all around the band. And the moon design on it will actually change with the phases of the real moon.”

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful,” he picked up your left hand, bringing it up towards his face that was still hooked over your shoulder—presumably to kiss the back of it—but stopped short as he seemed to have noticed your new accessory as well. His fingers turned your silver band until he could get a good look at the lunar tracker that matched his.

“I got one too,” you added, skin turning warmer and starting to prickle the longer he went without saying anything. “It’s a lot prettier than those phone apps that track the lunar cycle, right?”

Then Sungchan was turning you around by the hips. He grabbed your face with two hands to kiss you, and you got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. You could feel the cool band of his new ring pressing against your cheek, warming up with every passing second from yours and Sungchan’s bodies.

Breaking the kiss, he reached behind his neck for your left hand with his right, bringing them both down to rest over his chest. He pressed your palm against him firmly, and you could feel his heart beating under your touch.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said quietly, earnestly, his voice cracking over your name. “So much… that it doesn’t feel real sometimes.”

“What do you mean, Sung?”

“Like, one person shouldn’t be able to have this much love in their body. Or at least, I shouldn’t.”

“What?” You let out a breathy chuckle. “That’s what so beautiful about love, there can only be more of it, it’s infinite. Of course you’re capable of so much love. How could you think anything else?”

“I used to never understand how my mom could choose to fall in love with a human. To doom her family—me—to our life. No safety or identity that comes with a pack. Even after I realized I had fallen for you, I-I was afraid I was so… messed up from thinking like that my whole life that I wasn’t going to be able to love you like you deserved. Like something might’ve been broken in me.”

“Sung…” You touched under his eye with your free hand, where a tear had fallen. “You’re not broken. You’ve never done anything but love me with your whole heart, I know that. You’ve been so good to me, always.”

“I know,” he nodded zealously, accompanied by a sniffle. “I know now, that I’m not broken. That I can have all this overflowing love in me, and it’s so awesome, but also kind of terrifying?”

You chuckled lightly at that. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I love you so much I get a little scared too, because I’ve never loved someone like I love you. And we haven’t even been properly dating for that long, so if I already love you this much, then how much more am I going to love you in six months? A year? Two? Five? Ten?”

He snapped his head up from where he’d been gazing down at your hands, eyes locking on yours. You smiled back at him weakly. The urge to stuff your words back in your mouth was there, but you knew you couldn’t. It was the truth, that you could picture yourself with Sungchan that far ahead in your life. For the rest of it, if you were going to be that honest, but you bit your tongue before you got there.

The two of you had unintentionally moved onto the next part of the werewolf mating ritual: moonlit confessionals. The light of the nearly full moon shone down on the two of you in front of one of his bedroom windows. Your textbook hadn’t been terribly explicit on the exact content of the words exchanged at this point, just that it was an opportunity for the couple to truly bare their souls to each other, make sure there was nothing hidden that would make the other not want to go through with the rest of the ritual.

“After my last relationship… ended like it did, I thought I might be a little broken, too,” you pushed on with your confession. “I was afraid that in my next relationship, I’d just see cheating everywhere. I was honestly a little relieved when our first date blew up, because I thought that if I dated someone again, I’d treat them like a criminal. But never once has it ever crossed my mind with you, never once have I ever doubted you, have I ever felt anything less than absolutely loved and adored.”

“I do, absolutely love and adore you,” he replied. “And I’m so glad you brought up the future, because I think about it, too. Like, all the time. When I imagine my life after college, or what my life is going to be like in five or ten years… I don’t know much, but I always imagine that you’re there. Like, I don’t know what I want to be, other than happy, with you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing him by the neck to yank his mouth down to yours. Pulling him with you towards the bed, you stopped when you felt your legs back up against it.

“Do it, Sung. Bite me,” you murmured against his lips.

He let out a low, throaty groan at your words, tipping his head back as he took a couple deep breaths. You pressed a few more open-mouth kisses to his Adam’s apple and collarbones. Sungchan made another sound that was between a sigh and a grunt.

“We should be sitting down for this,” he stated, though he made no move to follow through on his words.

You removed your lips from his skin to happily plop down into the center of his mattress. The front of you was a bit cold since you were no longer pressed up against him, though you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be for very long.

Sungchan sat down facing you, scooping you up into his arms. You easily settled into his lap, your legs finding familiar places on either side of his hips. Fondly brushing some hair off his forehead, you would’ve been rather content to just stare down at your Sung bathed in moonlight for the next several minutes, so handsome and all yours. But you had something you needed to do tonight.

Grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing—Sungchan’s, of course—you shucked it over your head and off onto the floor. That left you just in a tank top with nearly negligible straps. You could see your boyfriend’s eyes zero in on the bare expanse of skin from your shoulder to your neck that you’d just exposed, where his bite was supposed to go.

“I had my turn,” you said, slipping the thin strap off of the shoulder he was staring at, and tilting your head to open up as much space as possible, make it as clear of an invitation as possible. “Now it’s yours. Go on, baby. I trust you.”

Sungchan didn’t say anything more, but he did grab both of your hands by the wrist—his grip surprisingly gentle—to wrap your arms around his waist. You splayed your hands out over his lower back under his shirt, indulging yourself in his warmth, and smoothing a thumb over his skin. He then wrapped his around you to hold you even closer, if that was possible, and you watched him open his mouth, his white teeth catching the pale moonlight, glinting, and looking much sharper than normal— reminding you of how they looked during his shifts.

Then those teeth were biting you, sinking into your muscle.

Renjun had described what being bitten by a vampire was like to you, once. He had a bucket list for that sort of thing—magical encounters. He said it was a small pinch, barely more than the pressure of a needle, then it was all pleasure from thereafter. Vampire venom, of course, was meant to do that so that those they were biting felt so good so they wouldn’t resist while the vampire drank as much as they pleased from them.

Werewolves were predators in an entirely different sense, with the teeth to match. Theirs were meant to grab prey, hold them in their jaws no matter how much they struggled, and rip flesh from bone. As much damage as possible in one go, so that if said prey happened to escape, they wouldn’t be able to get very far with their injuries.

It was visceral pain, the moment Sungchan bit you. You couldn’t hear the noise that you made—only aware that you made one as you felt the gurgle of something in the back of your throat—through the white noise that exploded behind your eyes the instant his teeth hit bone. You were glad he’d directed you to put your arms around him just moments earlier, as your nails were now firmly embedded in the skin of his lower back—you were sure those would’ve been drawing your own blood in your palms if they hadn’t been there.

A memory suddenly flashed in your mind. You were seven, in your backyard with your dad, watching two squirrels chase each other across the grass. Then your neighbor’s dog came out of nowhere—maybe slipped his collar—and got one in his mouth. Your dad couldn’t get his hand over your eyes quick enough. You didn’t want to pet Mr. Lee’s dog when you saw him a couple days later, despite how well he sat, the adorable way his tongue lolled out from between his razor-sharp canines, and how fast his tail wagged.

The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?

You trusted him, of course, or you wouldn’t have asked him to do this. Not let him; but suggested, encouraged, requested, told him to. Your fingernails dug into his back even harder at the idea, as much to anchor yourself and provide an outlet as to hold him to you as well. Surely you had to be breaking skin at this point.

You had the urge to bite down on something too. It was a need that came from deep in your jaw. Like when people were given something to bite on for painful procedures in old medical dramas. Or maybe reciprocity.

This go around, you kept your teeth to yourself, though, sinking them into your bottom lip. That pain didn’t even register past the supernova radiating out from your shoulder.

Sungchan finally pulled his teeth out from your flesh, and the rest of your senses snapped back into focus. Your eyes fluttered open—when did you close them?—back to Sungchan’s bedroom, your fingers slowly unfurled from where they’d dug into his back, and you could hear him talking to you as he gently inspected the bite wound.

You brought your hands back around in front of you. Your eyes widened minutely as you realized that there was bright red under a couple of your fingernails. And it wasn’t yours. The beds of your nails were perfectly intact, meaning that you really had broken his skin.

“Oh God, Y/N, the blood. I’m so sorry.” Sungchan muttered under his breath, reaching for something on his nightstand.

For half a second, you thought he meant his, and you were about to apologize as you were still staring down at your hands mostly in awe. But then you actually saw his face for the first time as he turned back around, clutching a damp hand towel.

There was a red tint to his lips, and you realized that wasyour blood. Electricity jolted up your spine before the thought had even fully formed.

…he won’t even draw blood. So much for that, Mr. Jung.

His tongue darted out to instinctively investigate the wetness on his mouth, and a sudden thrill shuddered through you as you watched. You decided not to ask how it tasted to him, despite the question certainly popping into your mind.

You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone instead, so far back it was nearly in his hairline. “I’m okay, Sung. I’m okay.”

Without a word, he started gently cleaning up the bite wound, and you had half a mind to ask for another towel for his back, though you knew that would be futile until he got you situated. So, you sat patiently, keeping your head craned to the side to give him plenty of room, and watched his intent face as he worked.

“Sung?”

He sighed, a sound that let you know he was already beginning his mental descent through the seven circles of werewolf hell. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’m so—”

“Can I bite you next time?” You asked simply.

The towel stilled over your bite.

“You… next time… bite… me?” His eyes glassed over as his mouth stumbled to even form around the individual words.

“I know I won’t leave a mark like you but… so I can have something to do?” You used the hand of your unbitten shoulder to trace a line from his ear down his jugular, under his collar, to his shoulder, then back to his collarbone. You took your hand back as you went to joke, “Unless you’re expecting extravagant and meaningful gifts every time?”

“No, no. I mean yes! I mean—” Sungchan took a second to shake his head and blink, clearing his mind. “I don’t expect gifts every time. And yes, you can bite me next time. I didn’t think you would be up for a next time after I… well, after all this.”

He gestured vaguely to the wound that he’d gone back to tending to. A quick glance at it out of the corner of your eye showed you that it had already stopped bleeding and was starting to mend itself. At least Mr. Jung was right about that part.

Even through the acute worry over the unexpected severity of the bite, you could tell that Sungchan was already more clear-headed and overall relaxed, the constant nervous tension in his body gone, replaced just by a determined set of his shoulders, and momentary furrow of his brow as he cleaned up the bite. Brushing his hair off his forehead, you trailed your hand down to cup his cheek fondly. “Sungchan, this is the most yourself I’ve seen you in a long time. Yes, I’m going to keep your bite.”

Just the bright, tender smile on Sungchan’s face—the recognition of being loved and reflecting it back to you—would’ve been more than enough for you to do this again, whether or not it helped the scent anxiety. You could always work on another solution for that. But this you wouldn’t take away for the world.

He set the towel aside again, and you grabbed his hands now that they were free, messing with the brand-new ring adorning one of his fingers.

“Besides, even if I can’t leave a mark like yours next time, I can still mark you up,” you mused quietly, almost as if it were to yourself, except for the fact that you had a werewolf practically chest-to-chest with you. And you knew very well that you did. “They just won’t last as long.”

“Why wait until next time?” He suggested, and you heard the long inhale he took after. You wondered if you smelled any different to him already, or if he just needed to breathe.

You looked up from your hands to him with a smirk. “I like the way you think.”

Sungchan captured your lips in a kiss that tasted of hunger, and love, and metal— your blood was still around his mouth. And you smiled into it before doing as promised and dropping your mouth to the column of his throat, well above his collar, and letting your teeth graze his skin. You could feel his gasp rush in under your lips as his hands pulled your hips firmly down against his.

You decided that Jeno could be a ‘puppy’ all he wanted. You had a wolf, and you were more than happy with that.

“I think I made it out more marked up than you, you know,” Sungchan called out to you from the bathroom the next morning.

“Really?” You replied just as loudly, amusement in your tone as you stretched leisurely in his sheets.

“Shotaro’s going to be concerned for my wellbeing at this rate.”

Sitting up and scooting towards the corner of his bed closest to the mirror, you checked out your own reflection as you imagined he was currently doing, your fingers trailing over the dark bite mark now set into your skin. There was no scab or blood, just the faintest ring of raised skin and distinct outline of teeth. Rolling out your shoulder, you winced as a dull pain radiated out from the bite. Dropping the arm back down, you continued staring at the mark, a certain giddiness fluttering around in your stomach. You’d have this for… who knows how long. The rest of your life, maybe.

Clearing your throat and your mind, you responded to Sungchan with a disbelieving snort, “No he’s not.”

“No, he’s not,” he agreed with a sigh as he walked back into his bedroom just in a pair of sweatpants. Which let you get a great view of the countless blue and purple hickies, love bites, long red scratches, and faded remains of crescent-shaped nail marks that littered his neck, chest, shoulders, and back. You bit down on your bottom lip, a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment welling up in your chest. Sungchan fixed you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hands on his hips. “But my parents will be when we go over for dinner next week.”

“We’re going over for dinner next week?!” You yelped, covering your mouth in horror, panic, and mortification. A lot of the worst of those bruises were well above the collar of all of his shirts. “Why did you let me—”

“I’m kidding,” he cut you off with a chuckle, lumbering over towards the bed to flop down beside you on the mattress.

You smacked his arm as you hissed, “I’m going to kill you, Jung Sungchan! Don’t do that to me!”

“Ouch, full name.” He pouted.

“God, I was about to preemptively die of embarrassment!”

“So it’ll be fine for them to see that,” he pointed to your shoulder, “but not these?” He gestured from his own neck down.

“Different situational and cultural contexts!”

He nodded slowly, “Oh, right, of course...”

“You’re half-human, Sungchan, don’t pull that ‘I’m-just-a-simple-werewolf’ act on me!”

“I upset you. I’m sorry,” he apologized, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

“You better be, Sungchan.”

“I am, baby, I am.” He gave your hand a half dozen more fervent, rapid-fire smooches. “Now are you done calling me that?”

“What? Your name?” You scoffed.

“You know what I mean, baby...”

“So we don’t have dinner with your parents next week?”

“Nope. Two weeks.”

You shook your head and sighed. “And so you live to see another day, Sung.”

“I’m half-werewolf, I would’ve been all healed up by next week, you know,” he pointed out, sitting up behind you and pressing a couple lingering kisses to your shoulder with your new mating bite.

“I know, I know.”

He continued trailing sweet kisses up your neck and jaw. “Which means I’ll also be all healed in two weeks if you were to give me some more…”

“I don’t know, you just played a very mean trick on me, Sung,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were genuinely deliberating not giving in and absolutely devouring this man right now.

“I know,” he murmured between kisses, gently holding your chin with one hand to turn your head back towards him. “I’m the worst.”

“You are,” you breathed out against his lips.

“So now that we agree on that…”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You jabbed the crosswalk button repeatedly.

“It’s going to be fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’ve already met your parents before and it was fine.”

“Yeah, once, for like two minutes, as my friend.” You pointed out, banging the button with the side of your fist when it still hadn’t changed.

You were of course talking about a random Sunday afternoon way back in the spring semester, before you and Sungchan had started dating. He had come over that day to help you put together your new coffee table that you’d finally gotten around to buying. Except, upon starting the assembling, the two of you had realized that neither of you had one of the tools required for it. Thankfully, your dad did, and offered to bring it by since he and your mom were about to head out to run errands anyway. Cue some very brief, very awkward introductions between your parents and Sungchan when they’d brought the promised tool. You weren’t counting, but you would’ve bet money that you had called him your friend at least ten times during that less-than-five-minute conversation, with so much stress and nervous emphasis on the word that you wouldn’t have been surprised if your parents had left your apartment that day already thinking that the two of you were dating.

But now you were actually supposed to be introducing him to them as your boyfriend, and you felt like you were going to throw up and pass out and die before you even got there.

Sungchan wordlessly let go of your hand to smoothly step between you and the crosswalk button, picking up your other hand to hold.

“Come on, you said it yourself that they were impressed with me after that two-minute conversation,” he reminded you. “Imagine how great of an impression I’ll leave after two hours.”

“All I said was that my dad told me later that he was surprised that you were a werewolf because you were so calm,” you corrected him. “He’s used to all my friends from high school who had the bouncing-off-the-fucking-walls energy like Jeno.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Which, by the way, I’ve already told them that you’re not in a pack or anything like that, but pretty much all they know about werewolves is from my classmates and friends from when I was in high school. So… apologies in advance for any assumptions or comparisons they make.”

“Right, the two packs you went to school with.”

“Yeah, them. I told them you’re not in a pack, and don’t have any of that going on. It actually made my mom relax a lot more. I think all that stuff kind of scares her.”

“What? Afraid that I’d whisk you away with my big werewolf muscles to my werewolf pack and she’d never hear from her poor little human daughter ever again?”

You burst out into an incredulous laugh. “You have got to stop talking about yourself like that or I’m seriously going to hurt your feelings one of these days, baby.”

“By saying what? It’s not like I’m lying?”

“Your ego is as stupid big as your stupid big werewolf muscles.”

“Ha!” He cheered out victoriously. “So you admit it.”

“Wasn’t falling in love supposed to rot your brain? Make you more docile or whatever? I think it’s just made you even worse…” You tutted, shaking your head.

“How could I not be on an ego trip? I mean, have you seen my girlfriend?” He retorted. “She’s crazy beautiful, and smart, and funny, and so sweet. I’d be jealous of me if I wasn’t me.”

You rolled your eyes, but squeezed his hand tighter. “Alright, you sap. Maybe the ego trip is warranted. But seriously, don’t talk about yourself like that in front of my parents or I’ll die of secondhand embarrassment. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

So far lunch was going okay. Your mom had invited the two of you over for a late Sunday lunch, which always meant sandwiches and lemonade in your house. And it was going okay, aside from the initial reaction you’d gotten when they’d opened the front door. You could still hear your mother’s shocked gasp and ‘Oh my God…’ muttered under her breath as her eyes were glued onto your neck. More specifically, you knew she was staring at your new mating bite. Or, the half of it that she could see— you weren’t exactly hiding it, so you’d picked your t-shirt today only for comfort in the lingering end-of-August-cusp-of-September heat. It was just over three weeks since Sungchan had given you his bite, a couple days shy of the upcoming full moon, and yeah maybe you should visit your parents more often. But in your defense, you’d been a bit busy between getting the bite in the first place, and the new semester starting.

Your father didn’t have much better of a reaction than your mother, eyes going wide behind his thick, frameless lenses before his jaw clenched. There was still a certain tension in his muscles that jumped every time he saw Sungchan touch you, whether it was a brush of arms, holding your hand, or an innocent squeeze of your knee as he stood up to head to the bathroom that he’d just been gestured towards.

Picking your glass of lemonade back up after Sungchan had left the room, you took only a sip before your mom was reaching across the table to gently take your hand in hers.

“Hey, sweetie…” She said softly but with a certain worried tenseness in her tone that made your stomach drop.

You tried to mimic the front she was putting up, smiling back at her brightly and innocently, “Hey, Mom?”

“Listen... We are so happy for you, and we love Sungchan, we really do.”

“Okay, then why does it feel like this is about to go somewhere that I’m not going to like?”

“Don’t you think that the two of you might just be moving a little fast?”

Entirely dropping all sunny pretenses, you narrowed your eyes at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“The-the bite,” she explained with a wince, pointing to her own shoulder.

“That’s sort of like marriage for them, right?” Your dad cut in gruffly.

Despite it being phrased like a question, his tone made it sound much more like an accusation, like he already knew he was right and was just letting you know that he knew the truth—or at least what he thought the truth was. It reminded you of when you’d get in trouble as a kid and he’d ask you if you knew how the vase in the living room got broken despite very much already having a good idea himself. Giving you the opportunity to fess up before he punished you even more severely for the initial bad deed and then lying about it on top of that. But you hadn’t done anything wrong this time.

“Sort of, not really, it depends. In some packs, I guess. But Sung’s not in a pack, you know that,” you reminded them firmly, straightening up in your seat.

Your mom jumped back in, “Right, but still, don’t you think he kind of rushed you into—”

“It was my idea,” you cut her off before she could even finish articulating that thought. You knew you’d get all the way pissed off if she did. It was already taking a lot to dampen your anger now and keep this at a civil conversation. It’s just because they didn’t understand. You had to keep telling yourself that, and do your best to explain, calmly, and make them understand. Not everybody had three years of Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies under their belt like you. Your mom had been a stay-at-home mom all your life, and your dad was just a few years away from retirement, having worked in a human-dominated field for his whole career. An architect.

Those same sharp eyes that would pore over building designs late at night in his home office while you sat in his lap and did your own colorful sketches in crayon—and eventually fell asleep in his arms—were now regarding you with a clear distrust. “Darling, really, it—”

“Look, when we first started dating, Sung was having a really hard time with scent anxiety,” you once again spoke over him authoritatively. “All the usual scenting stuff, it wasn’t working. He was really stressed, and anxious, and just… worried sick all the time about me like spontaneously combusting or something if we were apart for even a second. Me taking his bite was the best solution. And now, the beginning of the semester has gone off without a hitch. Classes, my Magical Botany Club, his astronomy club, his senior thesis meetings, my research mentorship project... I don’t know if we would’ve been able to do all of this apart, clear-headed like… literally a month ago. And yes, I brought it up to him. I’m fine, I promise. This is what I want, he’s what I want.”

The two of them exchanged perturbed, skeptical glances, before your mom nodded, and your father let out a resigned sigh.

“Alright, sweetheart. Like we said, we like Sungchan. We just don’t want you two doing anything that you might regret. Either of you.”

“I know, Dad. But we’ve got this. Seriously, it’s… really good with him,” you promised him, a giddy smile coming to your features with your last words.

“We’re happy to hear that, sweetie,” your mom patted your hand.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I don’t want to know anything else about how it happens, but— Does it hurt? Like, right now, does it hurt you?”

“Oh, no, Mom, it’s not painful to the touch or sore or anything,” you reassured her, carefully skirting around the how and instead focusing on the now, pressing on the bite mark to demonstrate that it wasn’t tender like a bruise.

“Good, good, I’m glad.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed down the hall to you, and you turned around to smile at Sungchan over your shoulder as he started back towards you all.

“Well, I think it’s time for the tart I’ve got in the fridge, huh?” Your mom beamed at everyone, standing up from the kitchen table.

“That could’ve gone worse,” you declared as soon as your parents’ front door shut behind the two of you, leaving you and Sungchan on the sidewalk. There wasn’t much in the way of leftovers aside from the berry tart, which your mom sent you off with so that your father wouldn’t eat it all.

“You think so?” Sungchan asked warily. “Because I uh… I did hear what you all were talking about when I was in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, I thought you might’ve.” You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry about all that, Sung. I think they get it now. And really, it was my fault for not at least giving them a heads-up about the bite, it didn’t even cross my mind. We just caught them off-guard.”

Sungchan suddenly stopped the two of you on the empty sidewalk. He cupped your cheek in his hand, running a thumb over your cheekbone, then down your jaw, the side of your neck, until he stopped right over where you knew the mating bite was. His thumb once again stroked over your skin, tracing the shape of the bite and pushing aside your collar when needed.

“Hearing you say that this is what you want, I’m what you want… made me really happy,” he declared simply, eyes still locked on the mark.

“It’s true,” you replied.

A bright, giddy smile spread across his face. “I know. And I knew it as soon as I heard you say it, too.”

You grinned back up at him. “That makes me really happy to hear, Sung. I always want you to know how much I love you.”

He leaned in nearer, and you closed your eyes anticipating a kiss, but instead he just dropped a fond peck to your nose before standing up straight. “I think it’s starting to finally uh, get through my thick skull.”

“Finally,” you echoed with a giggle. “Alright, your place?”

“I actually wanted to ask… Can we go to your place tonight?”

“Finally going to give poor Taro some peace?”

“That, yeah. But I wasn’t even thinking about him to be honest. I just… I want to.”

“Okay, Sung. Come on.” You tugged him down the street in the direction of your apartment.

Sungchan had been to your place on several occasions as your friend and your boyfriend, and yet you were drawing a blank for exactly the last time he had been there. Maybe your third date? Or, technically your fourth date, but you and Sungchan had unanimously agreed to not count that first awkward blind date that the guys set you up on as your official first date. Regardless, it’d been… a while since he’d been over. You kicked your shoes off by the door and didn’t bother to turn the lights on as you deposited the leftover tart in the fridge before beginning your nightly plant-tending. There were a few that needed to be misted still, then you could fully relax. You did the majority of your plant care-taking duties during the actual day, there was just the odd handful that needed a couple good spritzes.

Sungchan watched you patiently as you did so just in the moonlight coming in through the sheers you had over a window. Then, once the spray bottle was put back down, you led the way into your bedroom with maybe a little bit of a skip in your step. While you weren’t a werewolf, you were understanding how nice it felt to have your person in a space that you felt safe and warm and good in again. Like everything was going to be okay forever, maybe.

“You want to wear one of my hoodies?” You joked, rifling through your drawers for some pajamas for yourself.

“You have anything that’d fit?” Sungchan perked up from where he was laying on your bed to ask. He’d already located his few pieces of clothing still stored away here, meanwhile you were struggling as it turns out you very much needed to do a laundry day.

“Try that.” You tossed one at him before turning back around to the dresser. After a few moments, you hadn’t heard anything from behind you, though. “Sung? Love? Everything okay back there?” You looked over your shoulder to find a very cozy-looking werewolf in your extra, extra large hoodie—which just fit him regularly. But it was the eyes-closed, soft, happy smile on his face as he had the hood up around his head, his hair strewn about messily, and he held the ends of the sleeves up to his nose that made you stop in your tracks to just take him in.

His eyes snapped open, and he dropped his hands almost sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah, all good. It fits. Thanks, baby.”

“Of course.” You nodded, feeling a fond smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

You quickly got into your own pajamas for the night and climbed into bed as well. As you reached over to turn off your lamp, Sungchan stopped your hand.

“Are you going to sleep right now?” He asked.

“Well, no,” you said, an eyebrow raised as you watched his eyes flick between your hand and your neck.

“Can we leave the lights on for just a little longer? You can turn them off as soon as you need to sleep. I just… So I can see it?” He let go of your hand and instead graced a finger over your bite mark.

You dropped your hand, nodding. “Sure, Sung.”

He smiled brightly at you. “Thank you.”

With the added light, you decided to do some reading, and Sungchan kept busy alternating between his phone, and folding and unfolding the same origami heart on your bedside table next to him. But you could feel him look over at you every so often, and you knew he was getting used to the still-new image of you with his mating bite. As you came to the close of a chapter, you tucked your bookmark—the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at the boba shop—back in and set the book aside.

“Sung?”

“Mm?”

Now that you’d gotten his attention, you wordlessly opened your arms, and he immediately launched himself into them. You let out a punched-out giggle as you suddenly had an arm- and lapful of werewolf. He settled in with his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his lips right against your bite again, his arms wrapped around your waist, and one of his legs slung over you, caging you in. You rested your cheek on the crown of his head, threading the fingers of one hand in his hair as you rubbed your other hand up and down his back. The metal of your lunar ring glinted from among his soft brown locks. Waning crescent.

“Can I turn the light off now, love? I don’t think you can see it from this angle, right?” You requested humorously.

“Hm?” Sungchan made a low, slow, questioning noise in the back of his throat, and you knew he hadn’t even processed your ask.

“Light. Off?”

“Mm, yeah, mkay.”

You could feel him nod against you.

Reaching over towards your lamp was a bit difficult, but you were finally able to stretch your fingers enough to turn it off, plunging your room into darkness. Shifting to relax a bit lower into your pillows, you returned your hand to your boyfriend’s back.

“You’re cuddly tonight,” you commented. Cuddly, not clingy like before the bite. You didn’t feel guilty for reading earlier, he’d been content to do his own thing in the meantime, and you’d been the one to initiate the cuddling now. He’d just been very enthusiastic.

“Don’t you know, Miss MCS Major?”

“How long have we known each other, and you don’t know my major?”

“‘Miss Interdisciplinary Major with a concentration in Magical Creatures Studies’ is a bit long, don’t you think?”

“It’s correct.”

“Miss MCS Student?”

“That’s… acceptable.”

“Anyway, don’t you know about werewolf mating bites, Miss MCS Student?”

“Only whatever was covered in my Intro course, the sociocultural importance of them in packs. We haven’t covered that in my class on werewolves yet. And unfortunately, Dr. Kwon’s Interspecies Marriage class didn’t fit in my schedule last year.”

“Scent swapping. After a werewolf couple exchanges bites, they swap scents until they eventually just have one new one.”

“Ah, so it’s my turn to scent you.”

“Something like that.” Sungchan shrugged. “I know that’s the scientific explanation, like, the magianthropological one or whatever. But really… I just know that being here right now feels right. Like I was never meant to do anything else. Like I could go to class, or go hang out with friends, or something. But after, this is where I’m supposed to be. With you.”

“Home.” You replied simply. “You feel like home.”

“Yeah. You’re my home.”

Unable to come up with anything to say near intelligible, you pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before nuzzling your cheek back into his hair. His arms tightened around you minutely, holding you just that much closer to him.

“And you can’t just start calling me ‘love’ and expect me to just do nothing,” he added teasingly.

“Sung.”

“Yeah?”

The darkness made it so that you couldn’t see Sungchan as the two of you laid together, but every place that you touched felt much more alive, so much more real, connected. “I love you.”

He grabbed one of your hands, just to hold it. You let him.

“I love you, too.” His words didn’t hang in the air, they laid over you like a warm blanket, wound and weaved through your mind like your favorite song, and wrapped around you like a familiar hug. You stayed silent as you basked in them, letting out a soft, content hum as you cradled his head closer to your chest.

“I think I really understand her now,” Sungchan spoke up after some time.

You were used to his non-sequiturs by now. “Who?”

“My mom… Who you love isn’t always a choice, but where you go from there is. The choices you make with that love is up to you.” His hand tightened around yours.

“I can’t wait to be there to make more choices with you, Sung,” you murmured, running a thumb over the back of his knuckles.

Entering Half Moon Bakery with a skip in your step, Sungchan stopped you just past the front door. The two of you had been out and about running various errands all day, and had finally popped into your friends’ workplace for a little breather.

“I’ll be right back.” Sungchan pecked your forehead.

“I’ll go order.” You nodded, watching him disappear around the corner that led to the restrooms.

As you walked up to the counter, you offered the familiar wolf behind the counter a big smile. “Hey Jeno!”

“Hey, Y/N!” He grinned back. “So what can I get—”

He was cut off by a clanging from the kitchens behind him that made you jump out of your skin. The werewolf whipped around, concern etched on his features. He looked to you apologetically, “Sorry, I need to—”

“Go check on her,” you agreed, not liking the distinct lack of cursing that had accompanied the raucous noise. “I wanted to pick something new today anyway, so I’ll need some time.”

“Thanks, be right back!” And with that, he darted into the back.

You did in fact meander over to the display case of pastries, bending at the waist to peer at your options. Humming along to the song playing over the speakers, when you heard footsteps coming up behind you, you figured that it was Sungchan.

“Back so soon, love?” You asked with humor in your voice, standing up straight and turning around. All warmth that was in your chest froze and turned to dread when you saw who was actually behind you.

“Y/N. Been a while since you called me that.” You hadn’t seen your ex in over a year. Not since a week after you’d found out he’d been cheating on you throughout the entirety of your short-lived relationship, when he’d come to pick up what few things he had at your place. But somehow he was at your friends’ bakery now.

“I never did.” You reminded him through gritted teeth. “And clearly I didn’t mean to now.”

Pivoting back around, you crossed your arms and stared straight ahead at the menu board behind the counter.

“Back to your old type, huh?” He was peeling back the collar of your blouse to reveal all of your mating bite.

You snapped around, slapping his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Humans weren’t good enough, so you’re back on the werewolf dick, of course.”

You couldn’t stand to be in here for another second with him sneering at you like this. He wasn’t worth it. You could leave, go around the corner and text Sungchan and tell him where you are and what happened. The two of you could just go somewhere else for the afternoon.

“I’m not going to justify myself to someone like you, so if you’ll excuse me—” You tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

He seized your wrist. “Y/N, come on—”

“Let go of her.” Jeno had appeared at your side, stepping in between you and pulling your ex’s hand off of you.

“Oh, Jeno,” you breathed his name out as a sigh of relief, almost absent-mindedly, as you withdrew your hand back to your chest.

The human was unfazed, though, a sick delight lighting up his eyes as he looked Jeno up and down. “You must be the lucky dogboy. I should tell you, for your sake, she has a type, if you know what I mean. Dated two werewolves before me, and she broke up with me because I just couldn’t satisfy her like she was used to.”

“You’re disgusting,” you hissed.

“She broke up with you because you’re a cheating scumbag, actually.” Sungchan was back from the bathrooms, and strode up behind your ex, a deep frown already etched onto his features.

“That’s the lucky wolf whose girlfriend you just manhandled.” Jeno pointed up at him.

Sungchan clearly hadn’t witnessed anything, as his eyebrows raised minutely at the word ‘manhandled’ before his frown became a hard glare and he pushed your ex back against the wall by the shoulder. “If you grab her again, you lose the hand and the arm it’s attached to.”

The human looked around Sungchan at you with wide eyes. You nodded firmly in agreement with what your boyfriend had just said. Sounded plenty reasonable to you.

“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back, we don’t want scumbags for customers,” Jeno growled, folding his arms over his chest.

The human had to wrench his shoulder out from Sungchan’s grip, giving the lot of you a final glare before storming out of the bakery. When you could finally no longer see him, you let out a shaky breath, and Sungchan immediately came over to wrap his arms around you. There was a vein protruding on his forehead that you weren’t used to seeing, and his jaw was still clenched tightly.

“Thanks, Sung.” You pressed yourself into his side, all too happy to be back in his familiar warmth. You weren’t going to forget about your friend that had come to your aid first, though. “You too, Jeno.”

“Yeah, thank you, Jeno.” Sungchan clapped the other werewolf on the back sincerely. “On one hand I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Y/N, but on the other… I’m kind of glad I wasn’t because—”

“You might’ve actually broken his hand if you had been. I know, I know.” Jeno interrupted him humorously, despite how not humorous that outcome would’ve been. Satisfactory in the moment, yes, but ultimately not worth the criminal charges he could’ve pressed against Sungchan. “Try some werewolf meditation apps.”

“They have those?”

“You’ve never had to look into those before. Ha! Mr. Zen Werewolf taking advice on werewolf meditation apps from me! Oh, hold on, she’s going to get a kick out of this one, I’ve got to go tell her.” Jeno pointed to the kitchen over his shoulder with a thumb, turning around and pushing a door open, laughing the whole way back.

As Jeno relayed this hilarious revelation to his girlfriend, Sungchan led you over to a small loveseat in the corner of the bakery, settling the two of you down on it. Judging by the dual cackling laughter now coming from the kitchens, it was going to be a while before you’d be able to get your pastries.

“I know I can’t prevent everything bad ever from happening, but…” Sungchan laced his right hand with your left and rubbed slow circles into your skin with his thumb. “I hope you’ll always let me be there with you after.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, gazing at your lunar rings displaying matching half moons. “Always, Sung. We made a deal, remember?”

“Of course,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[shelovesaesthetics]

⋆♱✮♱⋆ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 ⋆♱✮♱

𝒕𝒆𝒌𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 (𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆):

jin kazama & lars alexandersson: 'tragic hero' lovers - depressed, traumatised emo kid with only one thing on his mind: revenge. and a swedish rebel leader who's a hopeless romantic. the first most likely would not form a relationship to avoid inevitable bad luck if anything happened to you, considering he's at literal warfare with his father and grandfather. or because he just isn't interested. the latter would be the only one within these men who'd actually take a liking to you openly as he is the least hostile male member of the Mishima family. you'd notice the first at a dojo, practicing his skills or sitting alone somewhere in a quiet area. you're obviously the one to approach him first, which starts out as a failure because he really isn't interested in you....yet. or just isn't. aaand you're also disturbing his peace. but let's just say hypothetically, if you were lucky enough and you somehow caught his eyes, he'll be captivated. he'll hide it and try to suppress those feelings of course but it's inescapable and now you've just stained the insides of that man's brain forever. for lars, it's unsure where and how you meet up, though he's probably more interested in an anime girl cyborg (jk jk). but when you get his attention, you'd sent his heart a-throbbing.

when these men loves you, they'll love hard. you hold a deep place in their soul, more than anyone else. jin's stoicism makes it hard for him to express, but he really fucking loves you. he'll try to act affectionate, like small subtle compliments or just being slightly more lenient with you. he's also the type of guy to give one of those 'fatal' hugs like as if he just saved you from something or if he had to leave you to go somewhere. but other than that, he'll keep his loving minimal as he's a shy guy. lars would be the same but with a less fragile approach; he'd just be more willing to be around you until you get the gist. they'd protect you as much, beyond their own capabilities, to keep you safe from their havoc lives. jin is literally the same guy who went & sent the earth into absolute hell to wake up a 1000 year old demon to kill his father and paternal grandfather. if you think he wouldn't do something similar for your love, you're dead wrong. when he avenges, he avenges almighty, and he'll sacrifice his life for you. and with lars, he'll do the same, minus the demon part <3

kazuya mishima: 'stone cold' lover - emotionally inept, stoic manly man; he's not the lovey-dovey type. he's a very busy man, his mind will be more occupied on world domination and ending his bloodline than 'petty romance'. but if you manage to win this man's heart, he'd be a sucker for you. he loves you, dearly,, severely, it's just... he's just not an emotional guy. sure, he's not completely devoid of intimacy and sensitivity, but his overall manly ego prevents him from embracing such things. you probably notice him as you were working at his company. neither of you would approach at first (you're afraid him and he's just probably insecure that'll make him look unprofessional). he'd dote you in secret, maybe say some subliminally caring things under the guise of 'chivalry' and his authoritative position as a ceo. he'll make sure security is always with you or himself. then when the relationship further, he'll let his guard down little by little, like he'll start holding the small of your back, or make sure you're pampered; buying you little gifts and all. and if he's feeling really good, he might even throw in flirts and compliments here and there. slap on the ass, even, with a mischievous smirk. but other than that, the most romantic things you'll ever hear from this man is his impending plans to kill his son. yippee.

lee chaolan: 'ceo/sugar daddy' lover - silver-haired demon. handsome, charming, luxurious, chic, rich ceo. founder of robotics conglomerate, Violet Systems, this man is the typical socialite nepo-baby, "born" into wealth. he carries and alludes an air of luxury, old money richness, preppy stoicism, vanity and eccentricity. he'd notice you if you were working for him in his company, probably as a biotech scientist or as his intern. he'd find you interesting and approach you. since this guy is already such a sweet talker, you'll quickly swoon over him and fall in love. lee as a lover would be every woman's dream come true. he's successful, a gentleman, educated, a professional fighter, owns a billion dollar industry, and is godly attractive. what more could anyone possibly want?

he's a very romantic guy, very. he'll always treat you right, any day, any time. take you out on expensive dates & holidays, buy you gifts, pamper you up with spa trips, give you money whenever you want, romance you like no other. you'll never want a another man again once you win him. he is the dream guy ™ .

[fuck-customers]

Just a protip: if you placed an online order and it hasn't been completed yet, and you are in the store (why?? Just fucking grab your shit yourself. Don't clog the online order system for unnecessary orders) and see an employee working on online orders, JUST FUCKING LEAVE THEM ALONE! YOUR ORDER WILL BE READY WHEN IT'S READY!

Was doing bopis on a particularly busy bopis day. It was about an hour before the store closed and I had 30+ online orders to do and I was working on them alone at the time. (My store is a medium sized store and we don't sell food, medicine, or essential items, so having unfinished orders at closing is not the end of the world, as long as we're actively working on them- customersabsolutely can live without them)

This woman noticed that I was walking around with bags for items and figured out that I was doing online orders. (But of course did not consider that I was doing them ALONE)

The first thing she did was honestly perfectly fine. She asked if I was doing online orders and asked if her order was in the pile + how long it might take to be completed. So I told her I had around 30 and her order was lower in the list, so I most likely wouldn't be able to complete it before closing. She then asked if I could just skip to her order. I said no, I was not allowed to (literally-I got in trouble with my boss for skipping around and not doing bopis in the order that we received them....who the actual fuck cares, but whatever) but if she didn't want to wait, she was more than welcome to grab her items and pay at the register and just make sure to give one of us employees her order number and we'll cancel it so she doesn't get double-charged. We'll even honor any online coupons or prices, so she doesn't have to pay more than she would've online.

These seem like perfectly reasonable options, no? Pop quiz time! What do you think she did? A. Left the store with the intention to pick up her order when it was ready the following day? Or B. Grabbed her items herself and went to the register like I suggested?

Time's up! What did everyone guess?

No matter what you guessed, you were wrong! Because the real answer is more unhinged that either of those.

What she did was C. FOLLOW ME AROUND THE FUCKING STORE AS I WAS DOING OTHER ORDERS, REFUSING TO STOP AFTER I ASKED HER MULTIPLE TIMES!!

Joke's on her, though. She pissed me off, so I purposely stalled and delayed getting to her order as long as possible. I took an unneeded bathroom break, answered every call for backup from my coworkers, even though the manager was available, took extra long to answer other customers' questions when they interrupted me, whatever I could to stall. I managed to perfectly time it so that I finished the order before hers at closing time, then I finished her order 15 minutes after closing time, so she'd have to come back tomorrow no matter what. Dick move? Yes. Do I care? No.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[sophieinwonderland]

pissgenic changed their URL to syscourser-against-misinfo jsyk.

they posted something about DID being trauma based when (shocking ik /s) that's fact and what people are arguing is that one part of the disorder of DID is not exclusive to DID (aka SYSTEMHOOD).

like, yeah, no shit ofc trauma makes you have worse memory and big amnesia barriers that give you the criteria of DID. if you're a system but dont have trauma then you dont have the disorder.

i want to scream atp

Yeah, even as someone who believes DID can exist without trauma, my own opinion is that it's going to be so rare as to be statistically insignificant.

I do think the biggest stickler there is going to be the amnesia criterion as you say. There just isn't any research into systems, including OSDD systems, who don't meet that criterion.

I want to note a few things myself from that post in addition to your points.

Math Stuff

The percentage here is 1% of the general population. If we assume Tiktok as a perfect representative sample of the general population...

There should be 1.35 million Tiktok users with DID from the United States alone. This isn't including OSDD or Partial DID. Nor other forms of plurality.

Between January and March of 2023, 14 billion videos were uploaded.

This means, statistically, 144 million TikTok videos should have been made by DID systems in that three month period.

Putting this into perspective, the number of Tiktok videos made by people with DID (assuming that 1% of Tiktoks are made by people with DID) would be the equivalent to the entire population of Russia. In that three month period

"AFABs"

I don't understand why they pointed out this demographic when that's the demo most likely to have DID.

Different studies show different ratios, but with women (most of whom are AFAB) always being more likely to develop it.

By the way, Tiktok also leans female!

This means that this variable should increase the percentage of TikTokers with DID compared to the general population.

The Big Bang

I'd argue the only big bang is in awareness. If 1% of people have DID, then I think DID systems might be underrepresented.

If there's an increase in the number of people identifying as having DID, but that's still less than the 1% of the population who have it, then maybe that just means more people with the disorder are becoming aware earlier and more willing to talk about it openly.

And if a disproportionate amount of what you see on your home page is system content, as you suggest, this can easily be attributed to the algorithm.

People not in the system community would probably see little to no DID content.

This is really semantics.

John Locke defines a person as "a thinking intelligent Being, that has reason and reflection, and can consider it self as itself, the same thinking thing in different times and places."

I believe the explanation of alters in the above quotes meet that definition of a person under Lockian philosophy.

I also disagree with the idea that viewing alters as people is harmful. Viewing them as separate people can hypothetically foster both increased communication and empathy. (People tend to be kinder to others than they are to themselves.) This could aid in treating down dissociative barriers with the right mindset.

Current treatment does push parts philosophy, but treatment that leans into using person-philosophy to build empathy between members of the system hasn't yet been tested against it.

Personally, I'd love to see a person-based treatment plan devised, and an experiment conducted to determine which was most effective for the most people. As of this moment, any speculation as to which is healthier is based on opinion.

What?

The paper isn't supporting the sociocognitive model???

The sociocognitive model is the opposite of the trauma model, claiming all DID is created through fantasy! And it's clear from the moment this quote starts off calling it the "so-called" sociocognitive model that the paper isn't supporting it.

What I think they're thinking this is about is so-called "Imitated DID", which I've discussed the numerous flaws of extensively and in great detail:

Both of these are deeply flawed constructs. But DO NOT GET THEM CONFUSED!

They are incredibly different beasts!

The former claims DID isn't caused by trauma, while the latter was invented by psychiatrists to protect themselves from lawsuits from misdiagnosed patients.

[emmartian]

The three perfect things this year to keep me living much much more.

Armored Core VI Fires of Rubicon - From Software

I have a soft spot for games where “you” start so low: a corpse, an addict cop fell from grace, a drained bounty hunter sent to a planet alone to get her soul eaten by somehow gentle parasites. 

Armored Core 6 puts you in a body bag and promises to give you a meaning.

The game makes you feel in pain, both physically and mentally, yet you dance the fastest legs exquisitely, while the voices in your brain implants seem to notice you, to worry about you, to tell you you're an artist that can crave for even more.

You choose a how to see if you’re still here. And so, you fly high the miserable sky.

The Boy and the Heron - Studio Ghibli

I’ve read a lot of words about The Boy and the Heron by this point, looking to praise it by finding hidden sources, mysterious meanings and cultural roots behind its attributed “unorthodox” narrative. But I doubt this given depth was THAT intentional.

To me, this film might be the peak of Hayao Miyazaki’s philosophy for process and creation which is well known that doesn’t allow a glimpse of restraint. First and foremost, dealing with a canonical script.

A choice that brings freedom and obsession. A way to live, instead a way to create, to be the stories we tell ourselves. I strongly believe this is what the film exhales. Depth and meaning by making brilliant collaborators invested with the nurtured concepts in his brain. Depth and meaning by making us fall for the intense personality of such a hard work overall.

To grasp a gap in the system you have to be so bold. And I can't wait for what comes next.

A Guest in the House - Emily Carroll

As dear homie Sloane Leong says in her quote, a Guest in the House is a very sophisticated character study coded as a horror tale, with exquisite art, prose and pacing. 100% Emily’s trademark.

Personally, I still can't stop smiling at how it philosophically reads as an essay about evasion. On how skipping reality can be empowering and healing, and more than anything, romantic; even if, you know, it takes you to the grou… Please don't mind me.

Hide from hideous, grasp a glimpse of justice, make the self you want to be, legit. Toxic. The knight or the ghost. In Emily’s safe HUB, the guts spill into refined erotic scenarios that make the average the most dreadful place to be.

Anyway. You don't do a book on this scale alone, to save the day. The accurate craft still feels like a scream. It's the kind of work that saves the medium by making creators unsafe. Please consider reading it and support it. Emily’s writing truly is precious.

She also did a beautiful Bloodborne short out of love this year. For the fans!

[girl-next-door-writes]

Just Because

Characters: Mycroft x reader

Summary: Mycroft hires himself a companion to show his family that he is entirely capable of making friends, but when the lines blur between the fiction and the reality is he heading for heartbreak?

Word Count: 1714 words

Prompt: Fake dating and a kiss without thinking.

A/N: This little angsty piece is for the incomparable @achromaticerebus who always sends me the most interesting Mycroft plot bunnies. Now, I know this was an angst request, but you all know me, so…

This was not where he had intended to be. In fact, if he had been in his right mind then this would be one of the last places he would wish to frequent, but he had not been in full control of his faculties for some time now. It was as if his body held some kind of autopilot, as if you had installed a homing device within his nervous system. It was infuriating and maddening and totally beyond his powers of logic, but it was the only thing that still connected the two of you and so he clung to it.

Mycroft found himself wandering around the places the two of you would go whilst in the midst of your masquerade. These were establishments he would never have set foot in previously, and yet they were perfectly you. The echoes of you were still there, causing his skin to tingle as if you had brushed against him, driving him to distraction.

Somewhere in his heavy woolen coat, his phone vibrated, alerting him to a new message. The leather gloves covering his hands made the task of opening said message more cumbersome than he would have liked and Mycroft swore under his breath, his eyes moving from the alert to his lock screen where you beamed up at him. He really should remove your picture from his phone, it was dangerous to appear so sentimental, but each time he tried to delete any traces of you he found himself entirely unable to press that final ‘delete’ button. Perhaps he should have Anthea do it for him. Mycroft knew he wasn’t really going to let that happen, but it somehow made him feel more in control pretending he had that option. His eyes flitted back to the image of you on his phone, standing in his parents garden, glancing at him over your shoulder, your eyes twinkling as you laughed. Anyone looking at this photograph may have believed the moment had been real, however, Mycroft knew the truth.

The situation was ridiculous, and he should not have allowed himself to feel inadequate, yet here he was. The Holmes family were gathering for Christmas upon his mother’s insistence and knowing that Sherlock had a whole entourage attending with him made Mycroft feel… not lonely, never lonely, but, well, alone. He had seen the joy on his mother’s face whenever Sherlock brought home a ‘friend’, and his heart ached to see that look aimed at him. That was when he had the great idea to procure a companion for the few days he would be at his family home. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult.

It turned out, that for Mycroft Holmes, it really was that difficult. He had a long list of qualities he felt required to be met by anyone he was to be spending so much time with and that person, most likely, did not actually exist.

He had just about given up and was considering paying someone to play the role when Anthea strode into his office and dropped a folder on his desk.

“I think this might solve your problem.” She gave him a knowing smile and left.

Mycroft eyed the folder suspiciously before flipping it open and raising an eyebrow as he read the content. Yes. A perfect fit.

And it really had been. He had arranged an initial meeting and the two of you had gone for afternoon tea to discuss the details. You were a professional companion, not to be confused with an escort, you simply provided your company, nothing more. You had attended family functions, weddings, work events with various men who felt they needed someone on their arm, all for a very reasonable fee.

“And so it would be for three days and two nights? Am I playing the role of friend or significant other?” You had asked so casually Mycroft nearly choked on his tea.

“Friend, simply friends.” He managed to splutter, although he could feel a heat rising up the back of his neck. “If my mother believes there is more to it then she will be planning the wedding by New Year.”

“Then I shall get the contract drawn up and send directly to you, Mr Holmes.” You gave him a polite smile and he nodded.

“I think, perhaps, given the current situation, Mycroft would be more appropriate.”

“Mycroft.” Your smile became one of amusement, but it wasn’t cruel or teasing, and it made his heart do a strange swoop.

That would not be the last time your smile had a strange effect on Mycroft Holmes. In hindsight he wondered if he should have cut all contact after that first meeting, after that first rush. It would certainly have saved him from all these ‘emotions.’

Christmas had been a roaring success. His mother loved you. His father loved you. Sherlock… was suspicious of the two of you but found you rather delightful. Of course, this then led to a whole other problem Mycroft had not anticipated. Whenever his mother decided to visit, Mycroft found himself in need of your services once more. This often led to covert meetings, somewhere convenient for you, to make sure you had your stories straight. Walks through the park, tea at tiny little coffee shops he would not ordinarily step foot in, a rendezvous at a small second hand book shop which smelled more like mold than paper… not the usual place for a business meeting, but Mycroft found himself looking forward to discovering these places which were obviously part of your world, not his.

Things had been going well, this arrangement between the two of you working perfectly for just over nine months, so when his parents insisted the two of you join them at the theatre, Mycroft saw no reason to decline. He didn’t know that accepting this invitation would be the beginning of the end.

“I really thought Roger was the murderer.” His father was muttering, still flipping through his program as if searching for a clue he may have missed earlier about the huge plot twist that pretty much everyone in the theatre had seen coming.

“It’s okay dear, I think that was rather the point. Roger was there to throw us all off.”

Mycroft saw you dip your head to hide your smile, an action that caused butterflies to cascade around his stomach. You seemed really fond of the relationship between his parents, and it warmed his heart to see that.

“Well, I had best be heading off. It was lovely to see you both again.” You gave Mr and Mrs Holmes a warm smile and Mycroft watched his mother pull you into a tight embrace.

“Next time, we should have a girls afternoon.” She beamed, cupping your face and looking at you meaningfully.

“That would be lovely, Mrs Holmes.”

“Righto, be seeing you.” Mr Holmes gave you a hug and Mycroft rolled his eyes, although there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

“What is it with you two and hugging people?”

“Oh, you know you like it, Mycroft.” You had teased and he had found himself pulling you into a farewell embrace too.

“Just don’t go telling Sherlock.” He chuckled, loosening his grip but not quite breaking the hug.

“Damn it, that was the first thing I was going to do as soon as I got in the taxi.” You smirked.

“Minx.”

“Posh boy.”

“Right, off with you.” He chuckled, shaking his head fondly.

“Goodbye, Mycroft.” You had given him that smile of yours that made the corners of your eyes crinkle and he had instinctively, without any thought, leaned down and placed a soft, tender kiss to your forehead. It was an action he had never undertaken before, and he felt the shift in you before he’d even fully pulled away.

You had given everyone a wave and then hurriedly bundled into a taxi… and that was the last time he had seen you.

The next morning he had received an email formally stating that you could no longer offer your services to him. It had pointed out a clause within the contract he had originally signed that stated any physical contact was to be agreed upon prior to the event and that he had breached this.

He had sat at his desk for a long time that morning, just staring at the email. It was so cold, so clinical, so unlike the person he had come to know. Then again, he had hired you to play a role. It was his own fault that he had allowed himself to believe in the lie.

For weeks Mycroft wallowed in a malaise, wanting to throw himself into his work but unable to concentrate. When the invitation to his brothers Christmas ‘do’ came through, he initially ignored it. Then his mother asked him repeatedly if he would be attending. Then he got a text from Greg Lestrade and another from John. It appeared that his presence was required, not merely requested, at this event and Mycroft’s heart sank as he realised it wasn’t him they wanted to attend, but you as his plus one.

After an entire day miserably touring around the places the two of you would meet, Mycroft found his feet had indeed brought him to his brother’s flat. The sounds of merriment could be heard spilling from the window and Mycroft let out a deep sigh, might as well bite the bullet.

Mrs Hudson gave him a strange smile as he entered Baker Street and headed to the stairs, she was practically vibrating with excitement, and he wondered just how many sherries the woman had drunk already. As he reached the top of the stairs, the door to 221B flung open and Sherlock grinned.

“Merry Christmas, brother mine.”

“Please tell me this is not going to become an annual event.” Mycroft sighed, already itching to leave.

Sherlock stepped to one side, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and revealed the party inside his flat. There was John, talking to Molly and Lestrade, there was his father rearranging ornaments on Sherlocks tree, and… and talking to his mother was…

Mycroft’s eyes widened and his jaw fell slack.

“Merry Christmas.” Sherlock said softly, patting his brother on the back.

[animeyanderelover]

Sfw and nsfw hcs for the Arcobaleno (khr) all sharing an SO, please!

Just to be completely sure that no one misunderstands, we’re talking about the Arcobaleno in the context that all of them still have their normal bodies! I also included Lal Mirch instead of Luce just like you requested in another ask.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, toxic relationship, obsession, stalking, manipulation, blackmailing, overprotective behavior, stalking, guilt-tripping, isolation, abduction, threats, death, polyamory, Nsfw, sensory depravation, ropes, handcuffs, threesome, edging, blowjob, corruption kink, overstimulation, tentacles, voyeurism, size kink, afab reader for the Nsfw part

Sharing an s/o

Under normal circumstances it is highly unlikely that all seven of those people would be able to share one darling yet the one thing that is going to play the one deciding factor is that all of them are holders of the Arcobaleno Pacifiers. It is this fact that single-handedly holds this entire team together yet even within this largely very reluctant and begrudging agreement there is always conflict, distrust and betrayal involved. There are Arcobaleno who get along better with another Arcobaleno and who actually team up together when sharing you as well as protecting you from another Arcobaleno who is distrusted amongst others. Then there are Arcobaleno who actively scheme how to get their hands on you all by themselves, who might even be ready to ignore the overall duties they have only to never succeed due to the effort and strength of the other Arcobaleno. Peace is fragile and chaos ensues more than often and despite best efforts sometimes you get dragged into those fights. It is no one's intention to harm you though if you were to be hurt during the conflict whoever was responsible fotr the escalation will be shunned and forbidden from getting close to you for a long time.

Seven of the strongest people are protecting you and loving you so it isn't an understatement that you are possibly one of the best protected people in the world. You have the strongest Martial Artist, the strongest Hitman, a brilliant scientist, two combat experts, an illusionist and a man known as the "Immortal Stuntman". Only a suicidal fool or delusional maniac would attempt to harm you or use you as a hostage as even if only one of them were obsessed with you this would be a task considered highly difficult or nearly impossible. Still, some measurements have to be taken so you are moved to another house in a more secluded area. A decision not easy for you, especially since you are most likely not alright with the thought of having to be the lover to seven of the strongest people on earth. By choosing the place you would call home from now on the Arcobaleno have also ensured that the place is well protected and have installed multiple other safety measurements. Verde has installed cameras, Colonnello and Lal Mirch have set up traps and the entire interior is filled with secret passages and weapons in case an intruder gets into the house.

You are familiarised enough with the hidden doors and the passages that you will be able to hide safely if there should ever be an occasion where someone even manages to bypass the traps as well as the security system yet you are never told enough so that you are enabled to make plans to escape this place. Normally the Arcobaleno try to see it through that at least one of them always stays with you as technology and secret passages can only do so much to protect you. It is no denial that there are one or two members who the rest wouldn't like you to be left alone with for an extended perios of time as a trustworthy and reliable Arcobaleno would then have to stay with you as well, so little trust is given to those specific people. It isn't common for all seven to gather together as they are people who travel all over the world and still have missions and assassinations to fulfill meaning that there is quite an influx as well as efflux of them. Some of them only stay for a few days, others manage to spend weeks with you before they have to leave again. It is due to the increased risk that would appear the moment you were to leave your home that keeps you locked up like a princess in a fairytale.

Now that we have established some of the basics let's talk more in depth about each singular member as well as their role in this arrangement as well as how well they would get along with other Arcobaleno and if they would even go as far as teaming up with other members:

🐍​Fon enjoys the trust of most of the other Arcobaleno and is essentially working as the peacemaker more than once, especially when tension and conflict arises as he always remains calm and composed with an admirable patience that doesn't waver even when other members snap at him. He's the one who explains the situation that you are in when you are initially brought to your new house and he is due to his serene composure the one Arcobaleno you find yourself seeking out the most when you're scared or when something is bothering you as he always lends you his ear whilst offering to prepare you some tea to soothe your anxiety. He's observant, in tune with your emotions which is why he often senses that something is bothering you long before you even consider talking about it. Fon is a very lucid person who gives you more lenience than some other Arcobaleno do yet he is not actively coddling you, fair in his judgement even if it involves punishing you for a mistake you did or a rule you broke. The martiat artist is arguably the one person you trust most, a fact which elicits jealousy and competitiveness from other Arcobaleno when they take notice of it.

🐍​Traits that make him up boil down to his protective nature, lucid mind as well as a subtle streak of manipulation that he uses. Despite his abilities and his strength Fon is tame if compared to some of the other Arcobaleno yet he is one of the people who arguably influence you the most. He's good in gaining your trust which is why he arguably manipulates you the most in the least suspecting ways as he guides you through your new life and coaxes you to be more understandable and less hostile about everything. Something that Reborn points out to him when both of them are alone one time, a sly grin o the Hitman's face as he states that Fon truly is a sneaky snake for being the one slowly pushing you to accept your new life the most and even talking you into feeling a sense of peace even though your situation is so far from what should be normal. Fon only gives him a serene smile, merely remarking that he finds Reborn's perspective interesting as he never confirms nor denies if Reborn is actually correct with his assumption or not. Overall Fon is in a unique position as he works decent together with everyone, even dysfunctional members, yet never teams up closely with anyone.

Nsfw

🐍​Patience is a virtue that will be rewarded. Fon plays by those rules which is why he is rewarded as you not only willingly approach him but also by being the first Arcobaleno that gets to be that intimate with you. He wins the little competition going on amongst the group and even though he pretends to be humble deep down he is secretly proud that he's your first. You don't regret that decision you made even after you have pretty much made experience with all other Arcobaleno. Fon is kind, soothing, understanding and he guided you through the entire process as you were nervous and due to that slightly tense during your first time with him. He always guides you through it even after you have gotten a taste of everyone and it is this reassurance and patience that always draws you back. He makes you feel loved and adored in a way that has butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, knows how to soothe any insecurities you may have about your own body and lets you feel just how much he desires you. You're low-key obsessed with the dragon tattoo on his left arm and he always lets you trace your fingers over it, enjoying the way your fingers brush over the ink.

🐍He uses incense, body oils and is extremely gifted with his hands. He knows where to touch you, knows how to relax your muscles up by kneeding and massaging your flesh or easing his long digits into you before starting to pump in and out of you, coaxing your walls to loosen up for later. He could give you a massage without it getting sexual but the problem is that his hands feel way too good to the point where your pussy is always soaking wet at one point and obviously he always notices the way your body reacts to his hands squeezing your flesh. Even despite knowing your answer most of the time already he still asks you for your consens before he proceeds, letting you cum once around his fingers before he removes his own clothes and climbs on top of you, his body pressing against your back as he presses kisses against your skin all whilst grabbing your hip and guiding it slowly up until you can feel the tip of his erection pressing right against your hole. Fon seems to like creating relaxing environments, another example being how he likes easing you onto his cock during a hot bath all whilst praising you and pressing kisses against your chest and collarbone.

🐍​Sometimes though it feels like there is another side hiding beneath that gentle exterior as you remember vividly how he reacted the first time you actually undid his braid and tugged at his longer hair, recall the abrupt hiss he let out before he shoved his hips with an unknown force against your own which caused your body to slam almost painfully against the edge of the bathtub. There was a short glimmer of something wild in his eyes before it quickly disappeared and he apologised to you. It is Reborn who whispers to you that there is a feral dragon hiding underneath that tame facade, one who is merely holding back to not break his precious lotus. You don't fully believe Reborn though which the mischievous man takes as a challenge. One time. One time Reborn manages to not only break Fon's polite and patient exterior but also joins him and you still don't know what exactly the Hitman said or did to get Fon so worked up. You only know that you are about to take a shower before both men walk in with a darkened gleam in their eyes. When you turn to Fon with questioning eyes he merely tells you that nothing is wrong all whilst his hands quickly free you from your layers of clothing.

🐍​There are two greedy pairs of hands touching you, lips traveling all over your skin, tongues and fingers exploring your sensitive walls and coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you. There's Fon shoving your back against the large mirror in the bathroom, your legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusts into you with a speed and force that was previously unknown to you all whilst murmuring against your lips that you have no idea how breathtaking you look right now. There's him showing Reborn how to tie you up all prettily like a present waiting to be unwrapped, a skill you never knew he possessed before. There's the memory of sitting in Fon's lap, his long cock splitting you open and his lips travelling over your neck and back, his hands massaging your breasts whilst you are sucking off Reborn, two of your holes occupied at the same time with Fon occasionally reprimanding Reborn to go slower when noticing that you're struggling only for the Hitman to retort that both know that he's secretly enjoying it. Unsurprisingly you struggle to walk the next day. There's a subtle tension between them after, occasional glances they share which makes you wonder if you'll soon be ruined again.

🔫​Reborn may be on a more mischievous side yet next to Fon he is also someone who most Arcobaleno trusts when it comes to your safety and protection. After all he’s the world’s strongest Hitman and his confident and charismatic personality manages to keep the little semblance of harmony within the group mostly together as well. In many aspects Reborn is actually like Fon yet he’s much more playful and sly about the way he presents himself. Still, no one can deny that there is an aura of intimidation he allows to slip out, especially if some other members of the group start acting out of hand and every Arcobaleno has had at least one moment where they were slightly scared of him. The Hitman is mindful to not let you be too frightened of him though even if he's naturally just on a more intimidating spectrum. It isn't the only reason why many Arcobaleno are careful around him though, it is also because Reborn is notoriously mischievous and comedically sadistic, Skull is by far his favorite victim to bully and torment. Reborn is aware of his feelings and he is honest about them to you and he loves pushing others buttons as well so that you get a glimpse of their darker feelings for you as well.

🔫​Perhaps it is the honesty that you appreciate about him. Reborn is not one to sugarcoat anything, his words precise and straight to the point. He doesn't lie to you and in return you learn to be honest around him. Even if you do lie, Reborn can expertly deduce from your body language that you're not telling him the truth. Despite the natural aura of intimidation there is an air of composure and professionalism surrounding him that draws you to him, especially once you ask him what being a Hitman is like. You don't expect him to actually tell you some stories where he may not go into too much details but still tells you truthfully about assassinations he did and people he killed and despite the horror of those stories the way he speaks about those experiences fascinates you. In line with his impish nature he loves scaring you, often appearing behind you without you noticing him until you turn around and get a small heart attack to which he flicks your forehead amused. All of his confidence aside Reborn actually teaches you how to use a gun, justifying the decision to the other Arcobaleno by explaining that they should always prepare for a what-if-scenario, no matter how small it is.

Nsfw

🔫​Reborn and Fon have always been the two Arcobaleno that enjoyed the highest chances of spending time with you due to their capabilities so Reborn has always tried goading Fon into a little bet to see who you would trust first with satiating your sexual needs. Fon never complied with his teasing challenges though, deeming them to be childish. Nevertheless though, Reborn still notices that under all that humble appearance Fon is secretly feeling victorious that you ultimately choose him at first if the subtle glances he gives the Hitman the day after are anything to go by. Colonnello is someone Reborn has always considered his rival and by extension someone he considers his equal yet ever since the mutual obsession for you has been born the Hitman has learned to respect the martial artist a lot more as well. Yet Fon is one of those Arcobaleno that only expose their gentle and kind side to you without ever revealing the savage desire simmering beneath, something that Reborn intends to change. He knows after all that Fon is restraining his need for you and it is when you deny his words that the Hitman truly starts prodding and goading him until Fon snaps and gives in to his wants.

🔫​Reborn is more open about his own desires for you though he's not drooling pathetically like Skull over you. No, instead he's slick, he's charming, he's a tease. He wants you to approach him and beg for him, especially after he knows that Fon got to know you on first base. He whispers in a low and husky voice suggestive things into your ears as he suddenly presses up from behind you, large hands grabbing your hips and pushing your rear even tighter against his bulge, warm lips pressing against the shell of your ear before he suddenly lets go and leaves you standing there as a confused and flustered mess. He has a dirty mouth yet his words are smooth and his voice is melodic as he whispers his little fantasies into your ear, pushing you and testing your limits. Despite his slightly bolder approach he still remains patient though he will admit that he has jerked off to the image of you once or twice when he indulged a bit too much in teasing you, your scent still clinging subtly to his clothes as he strokes his thick and aching length. He isn't even ashamed to hint to you that he may or may not have touched himself whilst thinking about you.

🔫​Your first time with Reborn is wildly different than your first time with Fon. Reborn is a sadist yet he is weirdly gentle throughout it all as he bullies you. Dirty nicknames and dirty talking is absolutely involved though you can't be completely mad when he talks to you in his smooth and deep voice, the arousal still adding a tinge of humiliation that you actually enjoy being called such names and the expression you give him when he asks you if you actually get off of it is priceless and something Reborn greatly treasures. He likes involving pretty lingerie, handcuffs and blindfolds whenever he has you all for himself and he is bold enough to see it through that you're loud enough for other Arcobaleno in the house to hear you to let them know how much pleasure he brings you. He is a dom, has a thing if you call him "sir" in the bedroom and discovers that letting you wear his hat whilst you bounce on his dick is a dangerous sight that he plans to indulge more in. I imagine him as someone who is over 5'11 so if his darling should be notably smaller than him prepare for him to develop a major size kink since he knows that he's well endowed down there.

🔫​If there is one person though Reborn finds himself often teaming up with it is Colonnello. They've been rivals for a long time now and compete frequently over you all in a still amicable but competitive way. That rivalry reaches new heights once Colonnello has gotten his own taste of you as well which expands their competition to the bedroom. Both actually ask you who you think did better for the first time, Colonnello much blunter than Reborn yet when you are unable to answer you quickly find your nude body pressed between both of those fine men as you're tugged back and forth as both want a taste of you. From that moment on it is a competition of who can make you cum first, who can make you cum faster, who can draw the most orgasms out of you and the list goes on and on. Colonnello accidentally rips the lingerie you wear apart, only grunting out an apology as he squeezes your ass and devours your lips. Reborn can't fully blame him though as he's sure that if he would have any less self-control he might have done the same. It's going to get loud as you aren't allowed to keep quiet nor does Colonnelo make any efforts to hide his grunts and groans. Reborn is the only one who stays quiet.

🔬​If there is one Arcobaleno everyone collectively doesn't trust, it is Verde. Verde is a man who is only fueled by his own interests and fascination to the point where he is even willing to ignore his duties as an Arcobaleno and break the agreement. This is why he is never allowed to be left alone with you as there is always going to be another person staying with you when it is his shift to watch over you. The scientist is as you probably expect nothing short of displeased by this, chides the other Arcobaleno for this immature and distrusting behavior but it isn't like he doesn't know that if he could, he absolutely would keep you all for himself. His entire obsession started far more begrudgingly though as he has always only ever cared for his research which is why he initially didn't appreciate just how much of a distraction you were to him. After all he has dedicated his entire life to science so to figure out that his focus is getting split between his research and his newfound obsession with you initially made him dislike you a lot to the point where he briefly considered getting rid of you to regain his self-control. He doesn't believe in curses yet to him you are a curse for making him so obsessed.

🔬​You can't necessarily say that you feel comfortable around Verde either. He disturbs you, creeps you out in some moments and all of that is mainly because he approaches his obsession with you like any true scientist would do with something unknown. He observes you, he actually creates a file solely for you and he notes down everything he finds out about you all in hopes of figuring out what it is that fascinates him so much about you. To the great agony of most other Arcobaleno he is the closest thing to a doctor that they have, a fact that Verde attempts to use to his advantage as he claims openly that he would rather not have some amateur doctor examining you when he not only knows so much more and would notice any symptoms so much faster but also because he would find a cure infinitely better for any illness you might catch. Often he approaches you in order to brag to you about his inventions only to get offended and end up schooling you about it when he realises that you aren't able to follow and it isn't uncommon either for him to rant about the incompetence of other Arcobaleno to you, especially if he doesn't agree with their decisions which often ignore his own suggestions for good reasons.

Nsfw

🔬​Frankly spoken, he is disgusted by the behavior some of the Arcobaleno show when it involves sex and it almost makes him glad at times that he spends so much time in his laboratory that is included in the house you are kept in with walls that shield him from any noises when one or two other members currently have their fun with you. There is one time he vividly remembers where he was with Fon and Reborn currently in the house, spending time in the laboratory for some research only to leave his room to hear loud moans, grunts and creaks coming from the bathroom which promptly led him to retreat back into his safe space, his hunger completely gone. He's only mildly disappointed that it is Fon who got tempted by Reborn as he has always liked to give the Martial Artist slightly more credit for discriminating against him less than other members of the group. It wouldn't have been a surprise if it would have been Colonnello with Reborn as those two often tagteam though in hindsight he is somewhat glad that it wasn't the combat expert as Verde has already once gotten the displeasure of hearing just how vocal the blonde man is when buried inside of you.

🔬​Before any of the other Arcobaleno knock you up he prescribes you birth control pills, unwilling to risk being the one who would have to help deliver a screaming baby which would only add more chaos and give him an even bigger headache. His ire about the unbelievable behavior in regards to sex is something he expresses with greatest displeasure though, especially to people like Reborn and especially Colonnello who he accusses of sounding like a goddamn animal in heat. Once again it is Reborn who likes to push Verde off of his high horse by telling him that he is probably going to be one of the freakiest of them all once he gives in to his own desires as well. Oh, how you wish that Reborn would have been wrong with this assumption yet you indeed discover one day that the Hitman was right once again as you find yourself strapped to the hospital bed in his laboratory, completely naked all whilst Verde shuffles around in the shelves whilst admitting to you with a twinge of annoyance that he has had enough of you getting fucked senseless by the other Arcobaleno before he pulls out a blindfold, a gag and a vibrator. He hates to admit it though, now he's gotten curious as well.

🔬​This truly feels like some sort of roleplay where he is the mad scientist and you are the unfortunate test subject and you dread to ask him if he thinks about this current situation as exactly that. Indeed Verde treats his first time with you like a study though and as the dedicated scientist that he is he truly wrings out everything he can until you feel like jelly. He observes every twitch of your body, every increase of your heartbeat, every hitch of your breath as he prods around your body before he slowly pushes his gloved fingers inside of you, the rubber material leaving an uncomfortable burn that has you squirming around, your whimpers muffled by the gag he has forced you to wear as he wouldn't want you to be a screaming and moaning mess as it would only distract him from his research. The relief when he finally pulls his fingers out of you is only short-lived though before he pushes the vibrator inside of you, testing out the different levels to see to which one your body has the strongest reaction. It is when you have your first orgasm that there is a spark of enthralment as he observes how your body unwinds and you lose control over yourself for a brief moment.

🔬​As a dedicated scientist Verde is quite finicky about hygience cleanliness and perhaps that is why he initially is somewhat hesitant to touch you without gloves and get very close to you whilst risking to get himself stained in bodily fluids. Yet his attention has been already captured the first time he witnessed you having an orgasm. One thing about Verde is that he refuses to jerk off when he has a boner even if his own sex drive is lower in comparison to other Arcobaleno. He won't reduce himself to a desperate and horny mess which means that he guides you to his laboratory as soon as he has a persistent problem he is unable to get under control. Sometimes you find yourself sitting on his lap, cockwarming him with only parts of his your clothes and his clothes discarded whilst he's getting some last work done before he finally focuses on you, finally ending the uncomfortable ache you've been feeling, other times you find yourself strapped to the hospital bed once more whilst he has you cumming around different vibrators or around his cock. If there is one thing you can give him though is that he always medically ensures that you're fine after he's done with you. He's no goddamn after all.

🩵​Colonello is the first one amongst the Arcobaleno who actually exhibits some delusional tendencies though to people like Verde and Reborn it is obvious that he is just searching for some justification to avert the guilt he occasionally feels for influencing your life in such severe ways. His delusions are tied together with his protective tendencies with which he ends up explaining his own actions to you. He had to do what he had to do. You wouldn't know that as you were a few months ago nothing more than a normal citizen but if they wouldn't have isolated you and erased all traces of you enemies would have come for you as well as all the people that you cherish and love. He's sensitive about this topic and if you push him too much he might end up snapping, otherwise Colonnello is someone you find yourself getting along with. Sure, he tends to be on a louder side which may startle you considering that you spend much time around quiet people like Fon or Reborn but his energy is quite refreshing, especially since he advertises for more freedom for you. Whenever he returns to your new accomadation he always brings you a souvenir from the place from which he came.

🩵​Colonnello finds himself often working closely together with Reborn as well as Lal Mirch which actually makes him the Arcobaleno who has the most allies amongst the group. Technically Skull can be added to that list as well though Reborn and him just end up bullying the poor guy and using him as some sort of errand boy who they constantly boss around. He doesn't have per se any issues with any of the Arcobaleno though Verde and him have some bad blood running between them which has led the combat expert to provoke and trigger the scientist on more than just one occasion. You always assumed that Reborn was the most straightforward person in the group yet he is subtle in comparison to Colonnello who has an equally sharp tongue but expresses things in a much blunter fashion than his rival. When both of them are together they always seem to have some little competition going on between them for who can flatter or embarrass you faster or who you consider more handsome. The Blue Pacifier holder is passionate about his feelings for you, hardly manages to keep his hands to himself and when he's around he always likes to have some physical contact with you.

Nsfw

🩵​As already established, Colonnello is very straightforward, very touchy and very passionate and those three words describe him best in every aspect of the relationship. Similar to Reborn he really doesn't hide his fantasies though he doesn't coat his words in the same charm as the hitman. He really is just that blunt though maybe it is this almost brutal honesty about his dirty thoughts that entices you. He's eager which causes him to be almost too aggressive at times, especially during your first time together with him. Things escalate quickly the moment you don't stop him during the first passionate kiss and before too long clothes go flying as he shoves you against whatever surface your body hits first as he really couldn't care less if you two do it in the bedroom or somewhere else. It's not without risk to fuck somewhere else in the house if another Arcobaleno should also be in the house but Colonnello's true shamelessness truly is exposed when he asks you in a raspy voice if it really matters if they see the two of you or not. Fuck, he wants them to see you, to see how good he makes you feel. If he fucks you, others will know because Colonnello is not exactly quiet.

🩵​It is this boldness which has led Verde to actively despise him as he has been made a victim one time by walking in on Colonnello fucking you roughly against the refrigerator and it is this uptight reaction of the scientist and his active condescending complaints to the combat expert that has led the holder of the Blue Pacifier to actively torment the green-haired man when both of them happen to be stationed together. He'll see it through that Verde will exactly know what he's doing to you and even if the scientist locks himself up he will always hear the two of you going at it. It gets especially disgusting for Verde if the two of you fuck somewhere else in the house since Colonnello loves making an absolute mess. That doesn't only include broken objects but also stains left behind by bodily fluids. More than just once he has accidentally ripped clothes of yours apart in a short outburst of impatience as he is desperate to get his hands roaming all over your skin. He usually apologises sincerely after he is finished with you and is calmer again, promises you to buy some new clothes though you wonder if they'll suffer the same fate eventually when his lust gets the better of him again.

🩵​As mentioned in Reborn's part, it is not uncommon for both of those men to team up together when it comes to doing dirty deeds and they are truly a killer combo together. Once he witnesses how Reborn has you calling him "sir" he starts developing his own kink of having you referring to him with a name and unsurprisingly considering his name he wants you to refer to him as "colonel". He curses himself for not having figured it out sooner that he fucking loves hearing you calling him that as it fills him with a thrilled kick that he has never experienced prior to taking an example from Reborn. Since both of those guys are dominant they occasionally end up fighting who gets to fuck you first in which position and in which hole though you will end up in either case in different positions, handed around as if you are a mere doll for them to use however they please. Things sometimes get even more crowded when Both Colonnello and Reborn decide to only bully Skull further by inviting him over yet not allowing him to participate nor even touch you, forcing the poor guy to watch as you bounce on their knees or are fucked from behind.

🩵​Lal Mirch is another Arcobaleno that Colonnello teams up with when having sex with you though in this case it isn't based on rivalry and instead on mutual love for each other. It is a break that you sometimes just embrace as you know that he is going to be less commanding and extreme with Lal Mirch around who treats you with more care even though you know that she is always a tad bit awkward and nervous when she is making love to you and that embarrassment is amplified when Colonnello is around. It actually takes Colonnello a bit to convince Lal Mirch into a threesome as the concept of it is something that she never thought she would be confronted with before you suddenly crossed all of their lives. It's certainly new for you to spend time with two Arcobaleno who aren't into the same stuff as Lal Mirch will actively bark at Colonnello to be more careful if she deems him to be too rough whilst she provides you with a gentler time even despite Colonnello teasing her for being so flustered around you and him even though she has the two people who she cherishes most right in front of her. Lal Mirch influences him though as he is less rough when she is with him.

🐍​Viper is someone other Arcobaleno tend to keep a closer eye on as well even though they still obey by the rules and follow the duties given to them ever since they became the holder of a Pacifier. If it wouldn't be for that sense of duty it is unlikely that Viper would agree to this entire arrangement and even until this day they are still one of the few members who still struggles at times to accept this reality. Under normal circumstances they are a very materialistic person who only works for money which is why Viper is a very possessive individual and it is this greed that can make them a very volatile Arcobaleno to deal with, especially when they see another member spending time with you. It is not unlikely that they have actually assaulted a few members before with their illusions when their possessive nature was triggered or have even attempted to play those mind games on you as you are much more receptive and vulnerable to fall victim to their abilities. It is for that reason that Viper is another member who is never allowed to be alone in the house with you, putting them in the same category as Verde and unsurprisingly they hate this.

🐍​Your relationship with Viper is something even you don't know how to describe. Fact is that their abilities to let you see things that aren't real freaks you out though they are at least less disturbing than Verde is. Still, you are scared of Viper and this is something that the Arcobaleno notices and almost seems to take advantage of at times. They're one of the quietest members though to the point where you actually don't even know what their voice sounds like for a good while before they finally talk to you. Similar to Reborn their silent nature allows them to sneak up on you without you even noticing until you turn around though Viper is far more creepy about it than Reborn who wants to startle you. They tend to follow you around as you walk through the house all without you even knowing about it until you eventually spot them or until you bump into another Arcobaleno who discovers them and scolds them for their excessive stalking and only then do you realise that they've been following you the entire time. It is unlikely that they're ever going to stop though, after all you are also their possession so they have a right to know what you're doing.

Nsfw

🐍​I don't recall that Viper's biological sex was ever revealed and from what I could gather online even the fanbase is sort of torn over that aspect so I'll try to work this out as good as I can. They're quiet about their own opinions of sex. They neither join when Reborn and Colonnello start dirty talking randomly when all Arcobaleno are gathered with Fon sometimes subtly throwing in a comment or two as well but they aren't snapping at them and chiding them for their disgusting behavior and immaturity either like Verde who always looks like he is considering to castrate all of them so that they can never get it up again. The next day after someone has ravished you they mostly stay quiet which actually causes you to throw them some subtle glances, wondering if Viper just doesn't want to talk about it. This is ironically how you get Viper to ask you if you want to talk about it as soon as they realise that you give them those slightly wondering eyes, an offer you always bashfully reject as you'd rather not indulge in what happened the previous day. An answer to which they merely let out a hum that almost sounds disappointed, or perhaps you're just imagining that.

🐍​Admittedly, sex is not something that has ever been on Viper's mind before as their only focus has been on money yet Verde and them share one thing together which is that they actually start to get interested in it due to the active sex life that comes with so many people sharing you and especially with people as vocal and blunt as Colonnello. Viper just starts getting curious yet is too proud to actually ask you what your experiences with others have been so far, always secretly hoping that you yourself will talk about it as if you had the same dirty and honest mouth like some other Arcobaleno. Colonnello and Reborn on the other hand tell them what they secretly want to know without Viper even having to ask and it is Reborn who always nudges his friend and throws a mischievous glance in the illusionist's direction. Eventually Viper tries to vividly imagine what those two have told them about you, even attempt to create an illusion about you writhing and moaning and it is to those illusions of theirs that they start touching themself to. It's clumsy, awkward and slightly embarrassing as they don't really know what they're doing yet they still manage to eventually orgasm.

🐍​Maybe it is because you mistook Viper's quiet and more mysterious appearance as a sign that they're modest yet perhaps you should have considered that their abilities to use illusions would obviously give them some creative ideas. From all the sex you have had with all the different Arcobaleno Viper has always stood out due to the sheer uniqueness their abilities provide them with though you still have to figure out whether it is a good kind of weird or a bad kind of weird. There are two illusions that Viper favors and one of them remains you of every generic hentai that you have ever heard of as it involves, yes you guessed it right, tentacles. Slimy, rubbery with suction cups who wrap themselves around your body and brush against your pussy. You never expected an illusion to feel so real, a mixture of disgust and heat pooling in your belly as you feel those long and wriggly limbs slithering their way inside of you, brushing against your sensitive walls and nerves all whilst you can only whimper, unsure whether you want to beg Viper to stop or to let your disturbing curiosity take reign. It is this inner conflict that Viper seems to get off to, their fingers busily working on themselves.

🐍​Another illusion they often like to use, and one that is less disturbing than the tentacle one, is the one where they create clones of themselves. At this point in time you are not exactly unfamiliar with having two people at once devouring you yet three or four is something that you still have to experience even if all of those people except one are nothing more than an illusion, though their tongues and fingers feel very real if your orgasms are anything to go by. Viper likes to play a game with you sometimes though whilst you can already feel the next high chasing you, forcing you to focus on them as they ask of you to guess which Viper is not an illusion and if you don't guess right you will be denied an orgasm, causing you to let out a frustrated whine after the second or third time that you have guessed wrong. Talking about noises, Viper is unbelievably quiet even whilst touching themselves or allowing you to use your tongue or hands to pleasure them. Quickened breaths is more than often all that you are able to get out of them, maybe a broken moan once or twice but otherwise it is suffocatingly silent which actually makes you embarrassed when you make loud noises in their company.

💀​Verde and Viper are Arcobaleno that no one trusts yet at the very least they are still respected for their abilities and their character. If there is one member that is somewhat looked down upon by all others it would be Skull as he is almost the official human punching bag, especially for people like Colonnello and Reborn who constantly bully him and treat him like an errand boy and despite Skull's protests he still ends up doing what they're asking of him which really only drags his reputation even further down. He likes to show off yet runs away when he is confronted with someone stronger than him or someone he fears and it is this attribute of his character that has led everyone else to partially look down on him since his cowardice is a trait they don't need for protecting you. Obviously Skull would never abandon you if there should ever be an escalation as he is essentially a human shield who can tank a lot of damage but his undesirable traits have still resulted in other Arcobaleno not wanting him to get the privilege to watch after you all by himself, especially Reborn and Colonnello often state that he is far too pathetic to be left alone with you. They wouldn't want him to set a bad example.

💀​Even you can't help but pity Skull whenever you see how Colonnello and Reborn treat him yet it becomes obvious to you that their claims that he is desperate and pathetic are yet again the unfiltered truth. Indeed he is all of that, begging for any ounce of affection and attention from you as if he was a starved dog. Deep down he knows just how pitiful and pathetic he looks in comparison to others which is why he frequently attempts to show off and impress you. He performs his stunts for you, he cooks for you and he does everything you ask of him as if he were your personal slave, a thought that is perhaps something he really wishes he could be. He knows he can never be as charming as Reborn, as bold as Colonnello or as serene as Fon but in any attempt to still be something to you he offers his heart and body on a silver plate, even begging on his knees for you. You notice that his brashness and confidence are fleeting qualities that only appear when you actually give him admiration and love and disappear only to be replaced by desperation once more the moment another Arcobaleno snatches it all away from him and he is brushed off once more.

Nsfw

💀​He will never forget that day where Colonnello and Reborn both demanded from him to visit your room later. He'll never forget how he walked in to you in sexy lingerie, handcuffed to the bed with both other men already touching and admiring your body. He'll never forget how he was forced to sit down on a chair, forced to watch as they took you in front of his own eyes all whilst he could do nothing but sit there. He remembers how painfully hard he was at one point, a clear bulge in his leather jeans and how he was just itching to at least touch himself only to be barked at by Colonnello that he wasn't allowed to do so. He shouldn't have gotten off to the sight of watching the person he was desperately obsessed with being reduced to a sweaty mess by the two people he was scared of yet judging by the way his cock was aching inside his pants, the precum already oozing out of his tip he really was just that pathetic of a man. He doesn't remember how long he sat there, his breath accelerated, his cock painfully stiff and his heart racing in his chest as your moans were ringing in his head. He only remembers that at one point he came in his pants without even having touched himself.

💀​He's paranoid about having one of his torturers walk in on him having sex with you from that day on, especially since it actually sometimes happens and he is always pushed aside as either Reborn or Colonnello merely reprimand him for doing it wrong, for not pleasing you right before showing him how it is done. There is always one point that you have to strongly agree with though and that is the fact that Skull seems to be utterly deprived of touches and affection whenever he manages to convince you to let him please you and you suspect that Reborn's and Colonnello's actions have only further edged him on. The first time he actually has you naked with him he is so ecstatic that he actually cums in his pants like an overexcited and immature teenager. He's extremely sensitive, highly reactive to any of your touches with especially his nipples, his necks and his pierced ear being places where your lips easily make him blush and squirmish. As bratty as he tends to be all in an act to make himself look manlier Skull is low-key a masochist who actually gets off of you degrading him and using a slightly more condescending tone whilst riding him all whilst he can only moan and let his eyes roll back.

💀​Whether it is due to his sheer depravation or due to his lack of experience, Skull is quite messy in the bedroom, his overzealous behavior either something that amuses you or that you low-key pity. He loves covering you in marks of his purple lipstick since it makes him feel like you belong to him and only him in that moment, his kisses a clumsy and desperate clash of lips, teeth and tongues. He often goes down on you, his tongue exploring your warm walls and you're not surprised when you discover that he has a tongue piercing as well, one that he hopes will make you feel even better when he eventually learns what he has to do in order to make you gush around his pink muscle. The first few times with Skull are arguably the most awkward yet adorable experiences that you had with any Arcobaleno. He's trying his best to figure out what he needs to do in order to please you, he accidentally has premature ejaculations whilst eating you out and the desperation is just oozing out of him. It gives you a feeling of control and dominance that you have never had with anyone else. You enjoy this feeling, use it against him and it sets the dynamic between the two of you forever.

💀​If he can please you by being the pathetic, somewhat bratty yet ultimately submissive man then Skull will do so and as shameful as it is for him the first time it happens, eventually he learns to love having you dominate him. He loves when you bounce on his dick, pinch his nipples or grab a handful of his purple hair roughly whilst cooing at him condescendingly, calling him a "good boy" or "your slutty man". Fuck, he should have just given in to his depravation sooner if he would have known that being treated like a slut by you feels that wonderful and he lets you and the whole house know that by being embarrassingly loud, moaning, cussing and whining with every breath that he takes all whilst he thrusts his hips upwards to welcome your warmth sinking back onto his sensitive shaft. He always comes first, still far more sensitive than you and always begs for permission to splash his cum on your body, to see his jizz dripping down your stomach and to feel like he belongs to you in that moment. He loves staining your body in his release and he loves it equally as much when his face is covered in your own, your pussy juice so delicious that he almost gets drunk off of it.

🔹​Lal Mirch is rougher around the edges, almost acting tsunderish when around you. She is someone who is very embarrassed about her romantic feelings for her darling and she hides those feelings by lashing out on you even if a small part of her knows that it is unjustified. With you that feeling of embarrassment is only enhanced because she is actually on the more lucid side and she knows just how depraved her feelings ultimately are as well as how depraved every other Arcobaleno's love for you is. Some simply accept that and don't care, others are delusional about it which leaves Lal Mirch quite alone in her struggles. She knows none of that is your fault as you are ultimately the victim here but a small part of her can't help but remain mad at you for a while. Perhaps that is why she is unnecessarily harsh around you, always points out when you do something wrong or tells you that you fail the high expectations that she had for you. Her words are quite hurtful to you, all the more after you were freshly abducted and are already more skittish and vulnerable than you would be normally. There is a spark of guilt when she notices the hurt in your eyes but she always stuffs it back down.

🔹​Give it time, give her time. Lal Mirch needs to embrace her emotions properly before she eventually starts coming around. Sure, she is still prone to unleash her hurtful tongue and spit out some mean words but she starts holding back and actually attempts to apologise which is huge. Colonnello is a major key factor as he helps her opening up, her outbursts of embarrassment when he is around not detering him in the slightest which makes him a quite good person to assist her as well as you to get closer to each other. Surrounded by more than just one Arcobaleno she doesn't trust, Lal Mirch is despite her harsher exterior very protective and even if she says some things she doesn't mean there are a lot of other members who trust her. She's not afraid to stand up for you and tell people like Verde or Viper off when she is around and notices how they creep you out. It obviously doesn't earn her sympathy from those same Arcobaleno but it is something the rest of the group knows to appreciate. If anyone should make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy she clarifies that she wants you to seek her out whenever she is present because she will protect you.

Nsfw

🔹​Sometimes she really wishes that she could sew that dirty mouth of Colonnello up, especially once he walks up to her and proudly announces that he just got to know you on first base. The guy is already shameless enough as it is but especially around his rival or around Lal Mirch does he amplify that bold mouth of his. The redder Lal Mirch grows, the more filth flows from his lips until she's had enough and her fist makes acquaintance with his head. It takes her a long few moments to regain some semblance of composure, her hand still clenched into a fist and her whole face ablaze before she starts angrily ranting at him about how he should learn some manners and that it is inappropriate to talk about his experience like this. She's all too aware that he did it on purpose though to get such a bashful reaction out of her. It's not like she's unfamiliar with what other Arcobaleno have been doing with you but it is very different hearing it from the guy she also has a crush on. She's unable to go back to her old self after that discussion though, her mind sometimes replaying the words of Colonnello as she glances at you before a very inappropriate image flashes before her inner eyes.

🔹​Since darling is biologically female, Lal Mirch actually has a rare privilege of having seen you naked before, especially when you needed help dressing up or undressing. Whilst Fon may have been able to claim you first it is Lal Mirch who saw you naked even before him simply because you felt comfortable enough to ask her. She has never considered before that she technically had you all for her own eyes before but now she actually feels her cheeks heating up whilst thinking back about all the times she assisted you with clothes or even spent time in the little sauna or in the bathtub together with you when she needed to rant about the other Arcobaleno to you. Her eyes start lingering on your bust, your stomach, your rear and your thighs the next time both of you are completely nude and she almost, only almost, gets a nosebleed then and there yet luckily she is a stronger person than someone like Skull would be. The moment you mention it to her about it though she instantly denies it, hiding her face from you so that her blush won't give her away. God, this is so fucking embarrassing! Why is it that she has no control over herself when she is around you??

🔹​She shouldn't be flustered, she has seen you naked before yet the first time she finally has you to herself she can't help the way her heart pounds wildly in her chest. It has taken her a good amount of vulnerability to admit to you that she desires you in a more carnal way and she actually places high expectations on herself for your first time with her. After all you have had more than enough experience with a couple of other Arcobaleno at this point and even though she has always deemed herself about silly competitions of who fucks you best right now she actually feels a bit of that pressure getting the better of her. She wants to make this special. She wants to make you feel good. Your first time with her consists of her being the major giver throughout the entire time, figuring out where to touch you and what to do in order to have you writhing beneath her. She hates to admit it but Colonnello's retelling of his first time with you is actually useful as she recalls certain things he told her which help her to coax the orgasms out of your body. When it's your turn to be between her legs she does her best to not be too loud, her thighs clamping around your head as she does her best to muffle her moans.

🔹​She is shocked but not really surprised on second thought that Colonnello proposes a threesome soon after he found out that she's fucked you as well. She already knows that Reborn and him often compete over you sexually which is why she initially hesitates as she doesn't want to be dragged into that stupid competiton only for him to tell her that it's going to be very different between him and her. Colonnello is a man who is quite persistent when he wants something and eventually he convinces her. Now, Lal Mirch has been doing things with you in quite a tame and vanilla way which is why it is quite a different experience for her to share you with Colonnello who is into ropes, sensory deprivation, spanking and much more. A part of her feels slightly uncomfortable, another part of her feels aroused when she sees how Colonnello does things with you. Sometimes he gets too passionate though and accidentally hurts you which always leads to Lal Mirch snapping at him and warning him to be more careful or else she will punish him. She always regrets those words the moment she spots that suggestive grin on Colonnello's face, more than eager to challenge her.

[lafzhaeshirin]

ten seconds

pairing: rafe cameron/reader warnings: vague depiction of a panic attack, implied harassment, drinking mentioned, minor reference to minor character death synopsis: holding hands with a stranger was the last place you expected this night to go, but here you are.

Oddly enough, the world seemed slower whenever you were on the verge of panic. 

Of course, other things accelerated. You were actively experiencing the symptoms of an engaged sympathetic nervous system, your heart rate and breathing quickening. Dread flooded your conscious thoughts. And yet you felt leaden, hips no longer moving in rhythm with those around you. You ceased being another body in the crowd, becoming instead a witness, seeing everything around you through a fear-slickened lens. 

It was only minutes before that Jackson’s gaze had captured yours, the feeling grating against you. 

No, never mind, it’s fine. You were being ridiculous. Right? 

The reason you made it out tonight, going through the trouble of a dress and a smile, was to forget it all. Leave it in the past, because everyone else had. Yet here you were, anxiety curling around your feet and quivering in your abdomen. 

He hadn’t done anything to really cross the line into harassment. But he had come worryingly close. And now you need to get very far away. 

Which proved difficult, considering just how packed the frat house was. You slipped in-between various gaps in the mass, making a dance out of your escape. Moving into the foyer, you had to squint to spot the exit in the dimmer lighting, speed walking once you found it. 

The screen door refused to unlatch easily, teasing you with a hint of the southern night breeze through its mesh. Breathe, breathe. You let your fingers still despite the subtle desperation fueling your movements. 

When you finally succeeded, the ache in your chest began to lessen. The clarity of the night was refreshing, all overwhelming sights and sounds softening with the distance. 

To your surprise, you weren’t alone. 

Rafe is the first thing you see when you step outside. His profile is bathed in the warmth of the incandescent lights overhead. It reflects off of him, off the darkness of his lashes and the glint of his curls. It’s almost amplified by him, making him entirely golden. 

The porch was small, a single wicker chair placed against the wall right where he was standing. And there was no one else in sight. 

On all the other occasions you had occupied the same space as him, there was always a degree of separation. Rafe Cameron was easy to admire from a distance. 

You knew to keep it that way. 

His back is turned to you, meaning you could make it by unnoticed, slip onto the street if you moved fast enough. 

Just as you advanced, a hand from behind you caught onto your wrist, jerking you back.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be that rough.” The voice made your shoulders tense. It was him.  

Jackson had started as a friend but, as always, it never stayed that simple. “I was wondering if we might finally be able to talk,” he continued, “I have a lot to tell you if you’re ready.” 

You couldn’t help the way your gaze hardened. You had already given him your answer, yet here he was, asking again. You turned to face him fully. 

“I’m sorry if-” you stopped yourself, annoyed with the rate at which an apology had already melded itself into your words. You began again, trying to steady yourself. “I thought I was clear when I said I didn’t want to continue this conversation.” Your words were stiff, corporate in their tone, trying to convey just how much you wanted to emotionally disengage from this, from him. 

A ripple of anger crossed his face, frustration sharpening his eyes. 

“Look, I know that I fucked up,” you tensed, already frustrated by the pseudo-apology that was to follow, “I hate myself for it. When you asked for space, I thought I was doing the right thing by listening. But I now know that’s not what you needed.” It was your turn to sharpen. 

“It was the right thing! Listening to what I asked for was the right fucking thing, so can you please just do that for once.” You hated this. Hated the urgency in your voice, hated that he was able to still elicit a reaction from you. “Please, just stop.” 

He moved closer, unrelenting. “You don’t get to act like I’m some kind of villain. I don’t know what the others told you, but you’ve made up your mind without even giving me a chance to explain.” Your resolve was starting to waver, doubt undoing the certainty with which you said no. 

“Is there a problem here?” Another voice cut through the tension, reminding you that you hadn’t been alone on the porch. Looking over your shoulder, you see Rafe had moved away from the rail, standing opposite Jackson and you. 

Embarrassment burned in your chest, on the apples of your cheeks, at having yet another stranger privy to this situation. Rafe stared directly at him, appearing bored, brows low and eyes cutting. You had the distinct sense that being on the receiving end of that look would be quite uncomfortable. 

“We’re all good, man.” your former friend tried to be just as acerbic, failing to do so. Rafe shifted his gaze to where the other man gripped your hand, ever so slightly lifting a brow. Jackson’s grip instinctively loosened, enabling you to move your hand away, grateful for the release. 

“Mhm.” Rafe hummed, completely still. He was the picture of nonchalance, hands in the pockets of his slacks with shoulders curving inwards. It was disarming yet more intimidating than you expected. 

Jackson willfully ignored the tension. Looking at you once more, he motioned towards the street. “Come on, can we just talk?” 

You could feel your resolve continue to waiver, the way it had all the other times you tried saying no. Were you just being a bitch? Were you really the problem? Maybe if he just explained, then you’d be able to get over it. Maybe it was -

“She already said no. Multiple times. You should listen to that.” His words were dripping with condescension, the kind he was so well-known for. Rafe was still the picture of calm, but the air had changed. This was no longer a casual inquiry. Rafe was imposing, intensifying the situation. 

You could tell Jackson was on the edge. You almost relished in it. 

Your former friend looked at you again, but you refused to meet his stare. The next few minutes were silent before he acquiesced. 

“Fine then.” Muttering, he makes the quick escape you had been planning for yourself, shrugging off into the darkness, hurt. Your heart tinged, guilt bubbling up to replace the pressure that had overtaken you. 

Once again, you felt the onset of panic. Your first thought was to get out of here as fast as possible. 

Of course, not without addressing Rafe first. “Ah sorry about that -”

“You aren’t the one that needs to apologize.” His voice destabilized you, putting a kink in the familiar script you were about to launch into. 

“Yeah, no right, sorry,” you almost bite your tongue, apologizing so quickly again, “I really appreciate you checking in.” 

“No problem. Everything okay there?” You both were standing face-to-face now. 

“Yes, definitely, just a weird little scenario, but we’re all good.” Except you weren’t. Every time you saw him, it’s like you were covered in grease. Covered in the things he said, the things he implied, in the absolutely shit way he made you feel. It didn’t help that he was a small, contributing factor to what had been one of the most difficult years of your life. 

You cleared your throat, giving him a sheepish smile, face tight and eyes dull, before moving to leave. “Thanks again for asking and everything. I’m gonna head out, but seriously, I really appreciate it.” 

Of course this is when your body decides to lose all equilibrium. Tripping over an unruly plank on the porch, your knees hit the ground. Oh God. 

In an instant, his left hand is hovering by your shoulder, his right parallel to you, an offering. He’s wrapped around you like wings, paying mindful attention that he’s not touching you without you touching him first. 

The self-recriminating thoughts came like baseballs in a batting cage. Your legs stumble as they lift you and then carry you to the wicker chair, movements too sluggish to take you anywhere else. 

You’re only aware of Rafe in your periphery, busy trying to catch your breath instead. God knows what combination of factors were making you react this way. The shit week you had, the edible you nibbled, the homesickness persistently nipping at your heels. One way or another, this was taking you down. And worst of all, you had an audience. 

Your thoughts are too fast and too slow at the same time, the hyperventilation progressively getting worse. You’re shrinking into yourself, spiraling and spiraling. Anyone could see whatever had you in its grips was only building up to a crescendo. 

“You need to ground yourself,” you can’t hear him fully, too lost in your head. “Here,” he says, placing his hand directly in your sightline, “hold my hand.”

“What?” You’re incredulous. This isn’t happening. 

“You definitely don’t have to if you don’t want to. But it’ll help to ground you. I promise, no ulterior motives.” His voice is genuine, you know he means it. And so you do.

Enveloping your hand in his, your thoughts now veer to the warmth against your skin, the pressure of the affirming squeeze he gives. 

“One Mississippi, two Mississippi,” you’re slow to process this new development, but the surprise that he counts seconds with Mississippis like a 1st grader might be enough to snap you out of this completely. 

By six, you’re counting with him. At ten, he stops and squeezes your hand again. You let go, a little twinge in your heart at the loss.

“Thanks,” you say, mortification coloring your words. None of this felt real. You, holding hands with Rafe Cameron? God really does have a penchant for surprise.

You look at him at last. You almost have to tilt your head completely back to get his full frame. Eyes watering and red, nose sniffling pitifully, you don’t even try and imagine what he sees. The shadows across his face obscure most of his expression. 

He’s by the side of the chair, now crouching down slowly so that he’s eye-level with you. “God, I’m so sorry,” You laugh nervously, trying to dispel the self-consciousness that’s settled in your bones. 

“What’re you apologizing for?” From his lips, it sounds like a genuine question. You don’t respond, the quiet between the two of you strangely peaceful. He breaks it a few seconds later. “Is there anyone you’d like me to call?” 

It’s funny, you feel like a kid lost at a metro station. “No, no I’m okay,” another smile, your sympathetic nervous system shot to hell.  He pauses, gazing at you with a gravity you can’t place. 

“Would you like me to leave or … stay?” He sounds uncharacteristically cautious. If you didn’t know who you were talking about, you’d almost say shy. Here arises the instinctive dismissal, the one that keeps in line with your desire to not demand more than you’re worth. 

“Please don’t feel obligated to stay, I should probabl-” 

“I’d like to stay. If that’s alright by you.” The silence between you two was cinematic, so quiet it seemed artificial.

“Okay,” and then, “thank you.” He’s still crouched by your knees. You scoot, the wicker chair just barely big enough for two. “Please, that doesn’t look very comfortable.”

“I’m not sure the chair wouldn’t be much different with the both of us.”

“Your knees would reject that claim, I think.” You laugh in that way people do after crying, relieving the tension a sniffle at a time. He makes a show out of acquiescing, slightly bowing before sitting next to you. You give him another sliver of a smile. You’re a bit taken aback by this Rafe Cameron. You’d heard that he had reformed, no longer holding court with his old coterie. He made appearances here and there. However, he bared little resemblance to the volatile character you’d heard so much about.

“Would you like to talk about it?” You tense a little and he gets it without you having to say anything. The silence continues to twirl in the air, but it feels warm and full. Remarkably, you feel comfortable. 

“This night has been-”  

“When I was a ki-”

“Oh-”

“Wait, please, keep going, ”he says. You go back and forth, politely pushing the other to speak and he finally relents. Taking a deep inhale, he starts again. “I was a really anxious kid,” he says, looking off into the warmly lit street. “Constant panic attacks, scared the shit out of my parents.” He drums his fingers against the armrest and you try to project as much nonchalance as humanly possible.

“My mom, she,” he chuckled at the memory and your heart warms, “she started doing this thing whenever I’d get too overstimulated. She’d give me her hand and ask me to come back to earth, like I was an errant astronaut. And then we’d count, until I could breathe again. Ten seemed to be the magic number.” You aren’t sure what to say. What to make of him sharing something this personal. You want to be skeptical, not easily swayed, cautious the way you’ve learned to be around men. But you are being swayed, guided back down to earth by his act of vulnerability. 

“That’s lovely,” you look into his eyes when you say it, wanting to show how much you mean it. He looks back, only for a second, before smiling down at the ground. 

“Yeah, it was.”

You see him around a few times after that, in flashes, always from a distance. Neither of you acknowledge the other. You were strangers, after all. Yet you couldn’t help but take more notice of him. 

Your encounter eventually faded to the recesses of your memory. Until months later, when it was brought to the forefront of your mind, at a park bench of all places. It was tucked away in the nature reserve close to campus. Surrounded by flowers and brush, it was hidden from view in an alcove of leaves and petals. You honestly thought other people didn’t know about it. Until today, when you see Rafe Cameron there, in a black suit with red eyes. You’d heard about his friend, it was a regional tragedy. The funeral must have been today.

It takes him a few seconds to notice you there. “Hi,” the air is thick with summer heat and tension. Should you stay or go? 

“Hi.” He’s blunt and you don’t want to push things, but then his expression cracks and he puts his head in his hands. You decide then that you’re going to stay. 

“Can I sit down?” Rubbing his face, he looks back up and nods, his eyes so tired it strains at your heart. Here you both are, once again side-by-side in silence. And then, you remember. “Ten seconds?” 

The surprise lightens his expression a little. “Okay,” he says and then, “thank you.” His hand is warm in yours, and you both start. 

“One Mississippi, Two Mississippi…”

[nhstadler]

A   S H O T   I N   T H E   D A R K

Two song choices: 

One:

Two (for my Swifties):

So, I’ve had this James POV sitting around and I thought I’d finally share it considering we’re reaching the end of this journey. I’m not entirely happy with it because I’m not good at writing spicy scenes. They can go wrong so easily because there’s such a fine line between ‘just enough’ and ‘entirely ridiculous’. That being said, *trigger warning* for very mild spice. Like, one chilli pepper. Nothing explicit.

Please let me know what you think. I’m always so thankful for feedback, no matter how short, long, cryptic. And finally, thanks for still being here. It’s been an honour writing for you guys.

A   S H O T   I N   T H E   D A R K

For a second, I think I’ve lost my mind. That my endless thoughts of her have somehow taken shape and are playing cruel tricks on me. Because she’s there, in front of my window, still in that damn dress and clutching my jacket around her shoulders as snow drifts by, catching in her blonde waves. 

“What…” I freeze as I stare at her, my T-shirt stuck to my arms half-way, not daring to move for a moment; like she’s a deer and I might scare her away. I’m still not entirely convinced this is real, but then she lifts her arm and gives me a wave, her lips tugging into a careful smile.

It’s not in my head. 

Seth Woodley is actually standing in front of my window in the middle of the night, waving at me.

“Woodley?” I hastily pull my shirt all the way down, stumbling over my backpack - still where I dropped it two weeks ago - as I cross the room to open the window. “Are you okay?” I look her over, not exactly sure what I’m searching for. But she’s here, alone, standing in the frigid cold in her gauzy ball gown and I want to make it OK again. Whatever it is. “What happened? How did you-”

“I apparated,” she says, almost surprised, her words turning into puffs of smoke, clouding her face for a second. “I meant to end up at Katie’s house but –” Her cheeks darken slightly, the colour extending to the tip of her nose as another gust of biting wind whips through the trees. “I kind of messed up?”

I still can’t quite wrap my mind around this; around her, standing outside my window, eyes wide and biting her lip like my wildest fever dream. I’ve thought about this too much - about Seth in my room, my bed - but this feels fragile. Like the phone booth. Like I could mess it all up too easily. 

The smart thing would have been to tell her to go. But I’m decidedly stupid.

“Come on, Woodley,” I say when a shiver runs through her body and then hold my hand out to her. “It’s freezing.” 

Her gaze drops to my hand, like she, too, knows that she’s making a mistake, but then she takes a sharp breath and reaches out, letting me pull her up to the ledge and into my room. She stumbles a little, slipping on the icy wood, and I swipe my arm around her middle to catch her.

“Sorry.” She looks up at me then, her eyes round and so grey and damn it, I’m pathetic. There was still a part of me that hoped that maybe kissing her would get her out of my system, but it’s useless. Because all I can think about right now is kissing her again. All night.

Instead, I clear my throat and step away from her, still not entirely sure what to make of this; why she came here of all places. Apparition is not a vague sort of magic - you can’t take a wrong turn and accidentally end up somewhere else. That’s not how it works and we both know it.

“You’re not seventeen yet, are you?” I walk to my door to turn the lock for good measure. It’s late, but there’s no telling if Lily won’t suddenly burst into my room, demanding to draw a glitter pygmy puff onto my face.  

Seth looks at me for a long second, biting her lip again, and then nods. There’s a kind of haziness to her movements, her reactions, and I realise that she’s still drunk.

Right.

“So -” I say, trying to give her a casual grin even though something coarse is winding itself around my heart, crushing the dumb flicker of hope that sparked there when I saw her standing in front of my window.

“I’m not supposed to apparate, no.” She shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, even though I know it is. I know that she cares, that this nonchalant act isn’t her. Something’s wrong and I should give her a sweatshirt and take her home before I can do something very dumb. Even though I want to be dumb so badly. Just for a second.

“Did you get into trouble?” I ask, skirting my bed as I walk back over to her. It’s unmade with my blanket piled on top and I curse myself a little for not cleaning my room when Mum told me to. It’s a mess and I can see Seth’s gaze sliding to the heap of clothes on my chair and the unfortunate pair of Quidditch underpants that dangle from the armrest. 

“Did you?” Seth gives me a grin that doesn’t fail to make my stomach jolt, even when I know it’s not real; even when I know she’s still pretending. But I humour her. Because she’s smiling and flirty and I’m weak.

“For kissing a girl?” I watch her cheeks flush, all the way across her nose, and for a moment, I don’t care that she’s been drinking or that she’s acting strange. Because she came here. Just like she let me kiss her in the Ministry phone box. A part of her wants to be with me and I want it to be enough. Even when I know it’s not.

“Your family probably wasn’t too thrilled.” I slide my hands into the pockets of my joggers instead of around her waist and watch the expression on her face shift - eyebrows drawing closer and lips pressing together as she avoids my gaze - and it all makes sense.

I only caught glimpses of her family when we stumbled out of the phone booth, mostly because she was ushered away immediately, before I could even so much as talk to her, but she’d told me earlier, hadn’t she? About that guy she was supposed to marry and about her family’s expectations.  

Maybe that’s why she came here; still drunk and reckless, trying to prove a point.

“I still have your jacket,” she says awkwardly all of a sudden, sliding the thing off her shoulders and holding it out to me. She’s probably realised it too; that this is the last place she should be. That I’m nothing but a bad decision. 

“Maybe - maybe I should go,” she says quickly, and I can see it in her face - the flicker of reason that pushes to the surface. 

“Yeah.” I let out a breath as I take the jacket from her and throw it onto the pile of clothes on my chair. I don’t want her to go, but I also don’t want her to stay like this. Like I’m just the means, not the reason. “Maybe.”

“Yeah.” Her voice is a whisper, fizzling out at the edges as she takes a step closer and places her palms against my chest. She’s frowning up at me, her eyes like storm clouds, fingers digging into the fabric of my T-shirt and, even though I know that this is going to hurt, I give in to it - to her.

I’ve kissed many girls before - and Augi on a dare - but kissing Seth feels different. New, somehow. Fluttery and shaky and so slow, like I’m doing it for the first time - nervous and a little scared to mess it up. She’s tugging on my T-shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric like she wants to tear it off, and I’m not really thinking as I pull it over my head. 

Seth blinks at me, her eyes and hair bright in the semi-darkness of my room, and then her gaze drops to my arm, her brows furrowing as she studies the letters that a very shifty bloke inked into my skin there in some London back alley two years ago.

“Seth,” I say, coming to my senses a little now that she’s stopped kissing me, even though my blood flow is directed somewhere else entirely. “Maybe we should -”

She looks back up at me, shaking her head just the slightest bit as she leans into me again, and I’m pathetically helpless when her mouth opens against mine. My tongue brushes against her lips and she makes a small sound that is my complete undoing, pulling resolutely on something below my abdomen. My fingers find the zipper on the back of her dress and, though I hesitate for a heartbeat, I’m too far gone to stop. 

It slides down her body, crumpling on the floor around us in a heap of silk, leaving her in nothing but gauzy underwear. It’s pale blue, with pink and red flower embroidery crawling along the lace, and I take my time taking her in - every detail - because she’s perfect.

Seth’s cheeks are flushed as I slide a hand into her hair and tip her head back, but she doesn’t pull away. When I kiss her again, it’s a little harder, a little more desperate, and it occurs to me then that I probably should be more careful. That I should slow down, because I don’t know if she’s done this before.

But she’s clinging to my shoulders, body pressed against mine, and I’m beyond reasonable thought as I trail my hand down her back until I can feel the tiny flower applications underneath my fingertips. 

We stumble a bit as I push her towards my bed - almost clumsily, with my hands grabbing her waist and pulling her into me a bit too roughly - and I bang my knee against my bed frame like an overeager 13-year-old. But she’s there, underneath me, her heart racing against my chest with every fast, shallow breath and her eyes heavy lidded. 

It feels wholly unreal as I press my lips against her throat, kissing and licking down the column of her neck to the birthmark above her collarbone while my hand drifts to the soft skin of her thigh. I don’t know what time it is, for how long we’ve been doing this, but it barely matters. 

I try to pace myself, but I’m breathing too fast and my heart stumbles along as I push closer, propping myself up just enough to not crush her underneath me. And then, she looks at me with those eyes that could be a painting and my breath catches embarrassingly.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, though I can’t say them. I should ask her if she’s sure about this. If this is alright. But I feel her fingers tremble slightly as she weaves them into my hair, the hitch in her heartbeat, and I know it’s not. 

She doesn’t want this - me. Not really. Not like I want her.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I mumble to myself as I push myself up too forcefully, but I have to. I have to bring physical distance between us to jolt myself out of this. “Shit.”

“What?” Seth blinks at me, the look of confusion on her face fading to something more gut-wrenching. She’s yanked the covers up to her collarbones, mortified, and I hate that I’m doing this to her. That she’s doing this to me. 

“I – I can’t fucking do this.” I shake my head, hands clutching at my hair, but I can’t look at her. Because it fucking hurts and I don’t know what to do. How to make it stop.

[bluedalahorse]

Philosophies of Justice and Narrative Catharsis in Young Royals

Do you ever just have… conversations with yourself at 2 am?

Me: Wow. August did some bad shit. I want him to get therapy and help, but I also want him to face some kinda legal punishment.

Also me: Oh, self. You don’t trust cops or judges or prisons. The legal system would be way harsher on Simon about the drugs. Doesn’t that give you anxiety?

A third me, thousands of words in and possessed by a hyperfocus demon: Well fuck. We might be doing a meta about it. It’s okay, this can just be building blocks for our graduate school thesis on YA literature. Ahaha it’s fine.

The following meta looks at philosophies of justice, both retributive and restorative, as they appear in the worldbuilding Young Royals. This is a monster of a meta, like ~6500 words long, so be aware of that going in. Content note for discussion of all the usual crime topics in YR, as well as the injustices present in real world legal systems.

Intro: Shifting the Focus

Fandom loves discussing—and disagreeing about—the redemption arc. Who can blame us? As human beings, we’re wired to notice novelty, and redemption arcs involve a character experiencing some sort of dramatic transformation. This transformation could be gradually built up to for a series of chapters or seasons, or it could be sudden and jarring. It could involve one big dramatic gesture or a series of small changes. Whatever happens, fans end up debating what they see onscreen.

Now, I love a good discussion. I also love stories that poke beyond simple notions of good and evil, where characters are capable of change in multiple directions, And yet, as someone who has spent years in fandom, I increasingly find the discussion of redemption arcs unsatisfying and even boring. Everyone seems to have their own definition of what constitutes “enough” good deeds for a character’s redemption, and even their own opinions of who is worthy of redemption in the first place. It seems we can’t entirely agree on what the term means, and everyone gets bogged down in discourse.

At first, my dissatisfaction prompted me to ask what I considered a well-written redemption arc. Well, no, that’s not accurate. There was a little arrogant voice inside me telling me that I, the great bluedalahorse, who has devoted many hours of academic study to various literary texts and even made complicated spreadsheets to track ideas in my favorite books, could use my genius analytical skills to find out what a perfect redemption arc is supposed to look like and develop a formula for it. And then I stepped back and laughed at myself. Since when did good writing ever follow a formula? All the best writers know how and when to break the rules. Also, I am not as much of a genius as I think I am. I’m literally just hanging out here and overthinking my fictional faves like the rest of fandom.

A lightbulb moment switched on when I attended a workshop focused on restorative justice in schools, back in the summer of 2022. As I listened and processed the things I was learning, my storyteller brain kept poking me. Hey, it was saying to me. Heyyyy can we use restorative justice principles to write better character arcs? Particularly redemption arcs? I talked to my MFA adviser about this as we began to workshop ideas for a critical thesis in Young Adult literature. We started to explore the ways that restorative justice principles showed up in books like Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay and All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely. I got a little further along in my theories, identifying techniques authors used to show characters confronting their privilege, unlearning old behaviors, and making amends for harm that they caused others. Still, something was missing. I just wasn’t getting where I wanted to with my analysis.

A few weeks ago I had a second lightbulb: what if we stop looking at justice in relationship to character arcs alone, and start looking at worldbuilding?

That clicked. Oh, boy, did it click! You really can’t talk about characters without understanding their world. Once I attended a panel on writing villains, and one of the panelists asserted that you can’t develop your villain as a character until you’ve developed your world. (Whether villains are outcasts hellbent on revenge, or oppressive tyrants at the top of their society, their world plays a role in shaping them.) Since what we call redemption arcs so often involves taking a character out of a villainous space and into a more heroic one, naturally worldbuilding has to be a factor in that kind of story. I also realized that the framing of the “redemption arc” frustrates me because on some level, it’s still tied to the Western Christian idea of individual salvation. I didn’t want to necessarily focus on what what one character does or doesn’t do individually without also focusing on that character’s relationship to other characters and their communities.

So I decided to experiment with shifting the focus of my thesis research. There were only two things left to do: come up with a framework for exploring my ideas, and test those questions out on Young Royals. Because it’s my favorite show, and it has a lot to say about justice. That said, a lot of what I say here and the methods I use could be applied to other shows as well. I’m curious to hear what it might have to say about your other favorite works of fiction!

The Framework

After some drafting during early morning bus commutes, I came up with three questions I wanted to explore when looking at Young Royals and other texts. These questions are:

What is the authorial philosophy of justice? What principles of justice are at play in how the author constructs the characters, world, and storylines?

How is justice enacted (or not) through the legal system(s) in this story’s setting? To what extent do the ideals of that legal system match up with its reality? To what extent should they?

What are the individual characters’ experiences of justice in their day to day life? What social norms do they end up creating in their smaller communities to enforce their ideas of justice?

What I like about this series of questions is that it allows a text to speak in multiple voices. There has been a lot of fandom discourse over the last ten years (and even longer, honestly, this shit goes back at least to Plato’s dialogues) about authorial intent and whether depiction equals endorsement and so on. I don’t think I’m going to end those debates today. Still, I do think it’s worth pointing out that a TV show or a book or a movie is able to tell a story and make a point in a different way than an essay or campaign speech does. You can have different characters own different parts of the truth. A particular setting can be positive for one character and negative for another. Fiction is really good at exploring paradoxes, contradictions, and tensions. I created these questions because they force me to tease out the tensions in a narrative and where there might be meaning in them.

Come on, Blue! you say. We know Young Royals has a lot of tension in it. When are you gonna start talking about your fandom? Okay. Fine. I’ll get to the sad teenagers now. Put on your school uniforms, everyone. We’re going to Hillerska!

No Good or Bad People, Only Good or Bad Actions

The title for this section comes from me paraphrasing Omar paraphrasing Lisa in an interview.

Two questions you may have about this section are: 1. What makes authorial philosophy (a term I am pretty sure I just made up for the purposes of this meta) different than authorial intent? 2. What’s the relationship between the author’s philosophy and their worldbuilding?

To answer question 1, I am defining authorial philosophy for the purposes of this meta as what the author intends + how effectively they convey that through their storytelling and craft. So like, authorial intent, but we’re also holding the author somewhat accountable for how their message comes across. Generally I read Lisa and the rest of the team as pretty intentional in how they craft their stories, and I can see how their ideas play out in practice, so I am more likely to give credence to authorial intent. I might not do that for other authors. As someone who reads heavily in the YA novel field, I’ve seen plenty of books with surface progressivism that end up being kinda reactionary when you scrape beneath that surface. Usually it’s a craft issue or the author not being intentional enogh. Young Royals, so far, has not been that kind of text.

As for question 2, authors can use their worldbuilding to reinforce their authorial philosophy, whether that’s through having characters in the story espouse said philosophy, or by using the story’s plot and character arcs to test their story, or by some combination of the two. Lisa is a writer who affords her characters a lot of grace, but I also see her as willing to test that grace and our her personal philosophy on trial. She’s very aware that ideals don’t always match up with reality, and those tensions are part of what she explores so well in her writing.

Now that we’ve addressed those questions, let’s address the authorial philosophy of Young Royal.

Young Royals stands out from other school dramas because it handles nuance so well. But how do Lisa and her team achieve that nuance? Part of it is the way their approach to characters resonates with the philosophy of restorative justice.

Restorative justice can be defined as “a system of criminal justice which focuses on the rehabilitation of offenders through reconciliation with victims and the community at large.” This website has some additional information about what restorative justice looks like in theory and practice. (Plenty of other websites do as well.) Restorative justice is really hard to pull of IRL, but philosophically it does ask us to think about the ways in which more retributive and punitive justice systems are failing people.

Now, before I get too far into my explanation, I don’t know if Lisa chose a restorative justice approach to her writing on purpose, or how much she’s read about the subject. But a lot of what she prioritizes as a writer lines up with certain RJ principles anyway. For example, RJ practitioners believe that every human being has worth and dignity, and that leaning too far into a retributive justice model (more on that in the next section) can be dehumanizing for both victims and offenders. In Lisa’s writing, each character is humanized, there are no characters who are caricatures. Everyone in Young Royals has their own reasons for behaving why they behave—even when they make choices that harm others. There aren’t excuses, but there are explanations.

Two other important ideas in RJ are accountability and dialogue. Season 2 of YR deals a lot with the question of accountability. Wilhelm’s positive growth is signaled by his willingness to be accountable for his actions; August’s more tragic arc is characterized by his baby steps toward accountability followed by his dramatic backflip away from it.

Regarding dialogue, Wilhelm’s growth is fostered by important and vulnerable conversations with others. Sometimes these conversations are with the people he harmed or impacted in a negative way. He and Felice have to talk their way through the weirdness of that kiss, while he and Simon have to talk about… well, everything. TBH they’re not done talking yet. But they’ve started, and that’s where the progress and catharsis is happening. Other times, Wilhelm’s conversations with other members of the Hillerska community—Nils and Boris come to mind—help him to see things in a new light and clarify his ideals. When we cheer on Wilhelm as he comes to better understand his privilege in the world and the weight that his actions have, we’ve been enlisted by Lisa to support restorative justice philosophy.

No one character represents Lisa’s philosophy entirely, because she’s so committed to all characters being fallible in their own ways, but I would say that of the main cast, the Eriksson siblings and Felice are the most likely to express different parts of restorative justice philosophy. All of them strive to look for people’s human side instead of relying on stereotypes. They want the people close to them to be accountable for their actions. They talk things through. They recognize the needs of multiple people in a situation. This doesn’t happen all the time, with every person, in every instance. They get distracted and led astray. There may be times where it would benefit them to get outside help and they don’t. Sometimes their efforts blow up in their face. But they’re trying, and I think Wilhelm has definitely joined them by the end of season 2.

So sure, all the characters in Young Royals might brush up against the principles of restorative justice, but they still “live in a society” as we may or may not still say on the internet. In order to understand more, let’s talk about the legal system as it’s presented in the show.

Call Your Lawyer Stepdad

As a writer, Lisa may believe in restorative justice principles, and this likely guides how she depicts the characters in her story. The legal systems she depicts in her work, however, are not restorative. What’s more, they are applied unequally based on the identity of the person who breaks laws or rules. Young Royals is very clear about the distinction between the ideals of the law and how the law actually gets enforced.

Obligatory disclaimer: I’m not a law student or someone who’s studied much comparative politics, so I can’t say for sure whether Sweden’s legal system leans more retributive or more rehabilitative. I also can’t say whether the ideals of its legal system match its reality, but I am making a safe guess that they don’t entirely. (Sweden, my ancestral homeland, I love kanelbullar and ABBA, but your current right wing government and your response to the COVID pandemic and your history of colonization, among other things, shows that you are just as capable of bullshit as any other nation. Forgive me if I approach your legal system with caution. If anyone from Sweden or another Nordic country has more info and can weigh in, feel free to weigh in.) It’s also worth mentioning my own preconceived notions here. I live in a country with a massive mass incarceration problem and a legal system that was specifically created to reinforce white supremacy, so my trust in law enforcement and courts and the like is… not high.

What I can say about the legal system in Young Royals is this: the writing of the show primarily focuses on the retributive aspects of the legal system. In a retributive justice system, those who break the law are criminals, and they are punished for their crimes. Punishment is seen as a way of deterring crime and keeping it from happening in the future.

We see the impact of a system like that when legal consequences motivate characters and the choices they make. Simon is afraid of getting caught and prosecuted for bringing drugs into school, while August fears being put on trial and imprisoned for leaking the video. What’s interesting to me, though, is that it isn’t just that both characters fear punishment. They also fear the stigma that comes with being publicly convicted of a crime. Simon doesn’t want to be stereotyped as the poor kid who comes into school and pushes drugs on the rich kids. He knows how dangerous drug addiction can be from witnessing his dad, and he brings the drugs into school out of financial desperation. August, meanwhile, wants to think of himself as an untouchable elite who is discreet about secrets, and probably (more sympathetically) also wants to think of himself as a relatively helpful guy who showed Wilhelm around school and took care of him the way Erik would have wanted. I think it’s very clever how Lisa had Simon and August each break the law in ways that betray their respective core values, because it brings this issue with a retributive justice system to light. Once someone has committed a crime, how do they move past that stigma and make themself into the sort of person who doesn’t do a crime again?

This leads to another issue with retributive justice. We often equate legality with morality subconsciously, but these two ideas are not the same thing. In August’s case, leaking the video is easy enough for us to label—it is both illegal because it is against the law and immoral because it violates Simon and Wilhelm’s right to sexual privacy. Simon bringing in his dad’s drugs—that’s against the law, sure. But is it immoral? Simon is up against a corrupt teacher who rewards students who can pay more with better grades. He needs to pay for tutoring if he want to succeed. He’s at a disadvantage because of his socioeconomic status, and he also probably hasn’t had time to process trauma around his dad’s addiction. From the point of view of a Hillerska parent, however, they’re just going to see Simon as a threat to their kid’s well-being.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Simon’s reasons for breaking the law are absolutely more sympathetic than August’s reasons. I cannot stress this enough. We see the way the system screws Simon over, and how it drives him to do what he does. Simon gets drugs to students who consent to take them, but when August films him and Wilhelm it’s without their consent. Moreover, August is complicit in Simon’s lawbreaking because he ends up being the guy who sells drugs on Simon’s behalf. (Jesus, August, sell a painting or something.) But who is the legal system in the YR universe more likely to give grace to? August. Who is it more likely to come down hard on? Simon. Simon does not have the wealth to afford a trial. He doesn’t have a lawyer stepdad on speed dial. He doesn’t have an in with the media like the royal family does, so he can’t control the public narrative of his life the same way that they can.

On a purely literal level, August dangling the threat of the pill bottle in front of everyone is the most textbook example of August being a little shit. On the thematic, level, however, this reminds us who the justice system really serves. It’s a caution against relying on the justice system—or at least relying on the justice system alone—for narrative catharsis in this story. Instead, we should be looking for narrative catharsis elsewhere. And, we should definitely be looking at more than one character arc if that is the case.

The Only Person You Can Truly Control Is Yourself

While season 2 includes the retributive justice of the legal system as part of its worldbuilding, we also see Wilhelm embody the philosophy of retributive justice through his actions. Wilhelm starts his arc in a place where he wants to punish August for what he’s done by taking away everything he cares about. He justifies this by pointing out the problems with the legal system—rich kids never actually face the consequences of their actions. While Wilhelm is correct to call that out, he ends up transforming himself into a more extreme agent of the retributive philosophy in order to pursue what he sees as justice.

Now, this is a writing gambit that could have failed spectacularly. We’ve all seen versions of the “if we are awful to our enemies, we’re just as bad as them” story that end up reinforcing an icky status quo. But that’s not exactly what happens in Young Royals. The first thing to notice is that Wilhelm’s approach works… initially. August has lost a lot at the beginning of season 2, part of it due to Wilhelm’s efforts, and that’s made him more willing to reflect and be vulnerable and listen to Sara when she tells him he can preserve his self-respect by turning himself in. I actually don’t think Sara’s being entirely naive when she points out that January August would have turned himself over. The problem is that as January August becomes February And March August and starts to gain new things to protect (an in with the palace, a new relationship with Sara) he becomes afraid of losing everything again, and starts to go back to his old ways.

The other thing to notice is that Wilhelm mostly acts alone. Felice is his confidant, but she’s not working alongside Wilhelm, suggesting they swap out August’s hair products with toothpaste. (I kinda wish she would have, though.) In spite of the fact that the video probably hurt Simon even more than it did Wilhelm (reminder: Wilhelm has access to a press team and hired security that let him walk away at first) Wilhelm doesn’t center Simon in the process of doling out punishment. He does it with the best of intentions—he doesn’t want Simon getting hurt—but that moment where Simon’s like “You did ALL THIS TO HIM when we could have reported him together???” Yeah. That’s extremely valid. And it hints at one of the central ideas of s2—yes, dealing with August is important, but priority number one for Wilhelm is Wilhelm taking accountability for his own actions (denying that it was him in the video) and making things right with Simon in that way. With that relationship restored (see what I did there? restorative justice?) they can lean on one another as they slay their next monster. At the end of the day, the person who Wilhelm has the most control over is himself. That’s why we end season 2 on him making the speech and publicly acknowledging his relationship with Simon, not with the arrival of cop cars at Hillerska.

Speaking of the choices Wilhelm decided to make, I invite Young Royals fans to consider how Wilhelm’s role as crown prince give his actions symbolic weight. The royal family may not have real lawmaking power, but they’re still supposed to represent Swedish values and traditions to the general public. If Wilhelm starts pursuing a kind of justice, then he’s making a statement about what justice looks like in Sweden whether he wants to or not. If he had shot August in the field, that would have been more than a murder—symbolically that would have been an execution, in a country that banned capital punishment in the 1970s. (Then again, Stella and Fredrika would probably be okay with that.)

I want to make one more point here as I transition into the next section. I don’t think Lisa is necessarily saying that August shouldn’t be punished or face consequences for his crime. But I do think she’s being very clear that a retributive justice philosophy is going to hit marginalized people without the resources to defend themselves—people like Simon—a lot harder. And that opens up the question of where we’re supposed to find catharsis. Can we really exhale at the image of jail cell doors clanging shut, knowing that this same legal system can come for Simon using the same tools? If Simon somehow manages to evade prosecution, can he ever really find relief? How long will that last? What’s to say the system won’t screw him over in other ways, and what’s to say that other rich kids won’t get away with what August did, or worse?

It would be one thing if a crime only harmed the individuals involved, but restorative justice philosophy reminds us that this harm also impacts communities and involves communities. So, without further ado, it’s time to zoom in and examine how justice plays out (or fails to) in the Hillerska community.

Snitches, Stitches, and Scapegoats

In the microcosm of Hillerska, students have organized their own justice system in miniature. Conformity gets rewarded, while open nonconformity gets ostracized. While there is some understanding among the students that individuals will deviate from heterosexual, traditionalist, rich kid norms, this deviation is generally only tolerated when students do it in secret. In this climate, Hillerska students do a lot of self-policing. Stella and Nils cover up their sexualities in ways that may not work for them long term. Felice frets about her physical appearance and how people will perceive her if she pursues boys a certain way. You get the picture.

Because of the pressure to maintain a pristine image of the school (gotta make those admissions brochures look sparkly clean!) the student body as a whole sweeps crime and “deviant” behavior under the rug by closing ranks and agreeing not to snitch on one another. The elite status of Hillerska students allows them to get away with a lot their public school peers would not. While gossip flourishes within Hillerska’s walls, woe betide anyone who lets it escape into the outer world.

On occasion, there are crimes that can’t be covered up, and it may be that more than one student is involved. We’ve seen what happens in this case. Hillerska students do not collectively assume responsibility, but instead agree upon a narrative about what happened and choose a scapegoat to pin the problem on. We see this most clearly in episode 1.5, when Alexander is found with the drugs that the Society used for their party. August suggests they pin the drugs on Simon, while Wilhelm breaks with tradition and says Alexander should take the fall, because Alexander can easily bounce back from an accusation like this. Sure enough, Alexander is back at Hillerska next season, far less innocent than before and far more likely to engage in political intrigue. Wilhelm’s considerations about how Alexander can more easily absorb the blame for the drugs are well thought out and in some ways compassionate—and we’re happy to cheer him on for defending Simon and to some extent we should. However, Wilhelm’s willingness to participate in the scapegoating system backfires on him nonetheless, and also entrenches him in one of the most toxic parts of Hillerska culture. He’s cut off one hydra head and two new ones have sprung up to take it’s place.

One obvious danger of scapegoating is that innocent people are often blamed for things they have nothing to do with. We’ve seen this negatively impact Simon on the rowing team and elsewhere. Vincent makes Simon the scapegoat for the rowing team’s loss in episode 2.3 and uses it as an excuse to bully him. Simon doesn’t get to sing his solo because people will recognize him from the video and that will affect the school’s image and the royal family’s image. Simon is innocent in these areas, but he’s being made to take on blame for situations that are a lot bigger than him. Of all the individual students at Hillerska, Simon’s probably getting the shortest end of the stick, and that’s directly related to the fact that he lacks privilege.

Feeding the Myths

There’s other ways to make people symbols of crime or deviance, however, that can damage the fabric of social groups in other ways. Since scapegoat isn’t quite the right term here, because it tends to presume innocence rather than superlative guilt, I’m going to borrow some season 2 language and refer to this as the Worst Person in the World Phenomenon. Now, this is where I’m going to go out on a limb a bit and ask a question the show might not engage with in season 3. They might do it. They might not. It may be beyond the scope of the story Lisa feels she is able to tell. I’m going to ask this question all the same:

If August faces public consequences and punishment for leaking the video, what impact will that actually have on the culture of Hillerska students? Will it prevent such a thing from ever happening again? Will it at least encourage self-reflection?

You could argue that a high profile case like August’s could deter his classmates from engaging in harmful behaviors. He may affect some students that way. I mean, what he did is Very Bad on the Bad scale. You might even call him… the Worst Person In The World. Who would want to be like the Worst Person In The World?

The flip side of the Worst Person In The World phenomenon is that can actually discourage people from taking responsibility and holding themselves accountable. Because gosh, what I did isn’t that bad. It’s not serial killer bad, or Vladimir Putin bad. Do we realistically believe that other students at Hillerska aren’t doing problematic things? That the rowing team has zero boys who will show a topless photo of their girlfriend (without her consent) to some of his bros while they chuckle over it? That some of the girl groups aren’t spreading wildly inappropriate and homophobic rumors about classmates that seriously damage reputations? That kids aren’t paying one another for test answers or putting pressure on one another to unsafely experiment with alcohol and drugs, even when students express boundaries and don’t want to? That kids don’t collectively work to bully teachers at times? And generally the kids aren’t getting in trouble because they’re the children of rich, elite parents, who will grow to be the rich people who run the systems and structures in society for the next generation.

Now, none of the Hillerska kids (that we know of) are doing bad things on the scale that August did when he leaked the video. This is important to stress. But it’s also important to stress that this “getting away with bad behavior” culture of Hillerska and rich people in general is part of what made August who he is. Are the other participants in that culture willing to reflect on that and actively work to change the culture in question?

Again, this does not mean that August shouldn’t face consequences or punishment, or that he shouldn’t go to prison and undergo some sort of rehabilitation. There are excellent reasons for him to face consequences. He did revenge porn FFS. But I think it’s worth acknowledging that the punishment of a very obvious, high profile offender can feed the myth that the legal system is finally working toward justice when in fact the system is continuing to perpetuate injustice. We can see how this works when only a few select predator men were convicted to placate the #MeToo movement, we can see how this works with corrupt cops when only a few who kill are ever convicted but most get away with it, and we can see how this works with political parties taking advantage of the fact that other political parties are, well, worse.

And yes, don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good, no ethical consumption under capitalism, etc etc. I think we can keep that in mind while also keeping in mind that we still bear a responsibility to Do The Work in whatever way we are able. This is wandering off of Young Royals a bit. But I’ve given a lot of thought to the way we point at glaringly bad examples of human behavior and say “at least I’m not that guy” while not really doing the reflective work about what we can do to be better and how we can change our culture and systems. This kind of rhetoric is what allows people, especially people like the Hillerska kids who are at the top of society and the peak of privilege, to sleep at night. And maybe they shouldn’t be sleeping so well.

I think a lot about how the scene with Sara warning August that Simon is going to call the police (which is about Sara giving August one more chance to embrace accountability) is followed by a scene of Henry showing up to his group project meeting with no work done. Henry might not have done his work on a literal level, but as a symbol, he’s doing a lot of work. Not only is Henry foreshadowing that August isn’t going to do the right thing and turn himself in, he’s also lampshading the broader culture of Hillerska itself. For all the fancy plaques about responsibility, the students use their privilege and power to avoid doing what’s right and keep the status quo going. This is who they are. This is what they are going to have to overcome to be ethical humans who make their world better.

Working for Catharsis and Healing (A personal opinion section)

I don’t make predictions. The idea of making predictions for season 3 is in fact pretty stressful for me. But what this intellectual exercise has opened up for me is a question of where I would find catharsis and healing in the narrative. It’s not in the sound of police sirens. Maybe that’s different for you. That’s okay. I think we can learn a lot from the discussion in question.

Let’s start with the obvious jerkface himself and the question of him facing punishment. I think it’s worth separating August from other people for a time, to prevent him from doing additional harm to others. If we’re going to call that prison, then sure, let’s call it that. But let’s unpack what that separation looks like. In order for Wilhelm and Simon (and Sara and Felice for that matter) to heal, they’re going to need to be away from him. They should not be the ones responsible for his rehabilitation. As a restorative justice nerd deep down (at least, mostly, but fictional teenagers are well within the broad spectrum of people I’ll offer grace to) I still think he deserves a chance to heal from at least his drug addiction and his eating disorder and his trauma over his dad’s suicide. I also think he needs to understand accountability and the impact his actions have on others, and needs to learn to act in ways that repair the harm he’s done and prevent future harm. This is what he owes the world. There’s not time enough for us to see that whole journey, but I feel like the writers could show us the first few steps.

I’ve seen some people try to argue that August can’t change because he didn’t respond enough to Sara treating him like a person. I can see their point, and I can see the show using the Sara subplot as a shorthand for the idea that August can’t change. Writers often have to use that kind of shorthand to make a point about a character. (The relationship between redemption arcs and romantic love is one of my ongoing problems with redemption arcs in fiction, just for the record.) The way I see it, though, Sara is just one neurodivergent girl with a family history of abuse experiencing her first romantic love. She’s not a team of trained mental health professionals and social workers and other help-minded adults who’ve studied up on how to de-program systemic nonsense. After all, we can accept that although Simon loves Wilhelm very much, Simon’s efforts alone weren’t enough to fully dislodge Wilhelm from his place of privilege. Wilhelm needed Boris and therapy, and a mom who made him go to therapy (Kristina often does more harm than good, but her making Wilhelm go to therapy is the broken clock being right twice a day), and Felice as a friend and confidant, and Nils as a different sort of confidant, and a literature teacher like Fröken Ramirez who’s assigning him books with queer representation. Wilhelm’s journey is still ongoing. Romantic love may be transformative, but individuals in love don’t change people on their own. Communities change people. I am an aromantic relationship anarchist and I will die on this hill.

Speaking of the Eriksson siblings, I want Sara and Simon to have a chance to repair their relationship and build it anew. This would be another point of catharsis for me. I’ve seen a lot of people saying “Sara needs to do xyz tasks…” like we’re in a confession booth and a certain number of Hail Marys will save the day, but step one is that Sara and Simon just need to start communicating again, and communicating honestly. I think it’s easy to point to August as being the root of their relationship struggles, but there were a lot of unspoken tensions between the Eriksson siblings long before he entered the chat. They would have had some other falling out even without Hillerska. Simon’s been led to believe he should parent his sister, and Sara’s been convinced she’s a burden to her brother forever. They both are still reeling from trauma related to their dad, and it may need that they need different things to heal from that. Even without all that, they’re both maturing and defining their values and exploring romance for the first time, and Sara’s getting friendships of her own without always tagging along with Simon and Rosh and Ayub. Simon and Sara are getting to the age where they may not always be the most important people in each other’s lives, and they need to learn to grow up without growing apart. That doesn’t always happen automatically; it takes self-reflection and commitment and listening. I don’t think we’ll ever be back to the innocent days of Sara teasing Simon about his fairy tale prince. But I do think they can move their relationship forward in a new direction, and bounce back stronger.

I also think both Eriksson siblings need to come to terms with the fact that they violated their own values. Sara didn’t do anything illegal, but she did do something that violated her own morals, and you can tell that she feels pretty awful about that when she’s alone on the bus and driving away from school in 2.6. As for Simon, I don’t know if he’s fully gotten a chance to sit with the fact that he violated his own values when he brought his dad’s drugs to school. Again, I don’t want Simon to have to go through legal trouble, or deal with the prison system. The legal system is stacked against Simon in ways that are not fair. But Simon values accountability, and Wilhelm basically rescued him from being held accountable in season 1. I imagine that’s caused cognitive dissonance for Simon he’s still sorting through. I wonder what that’s going to be like for him.

On Wilhelm’s end, I’d like him to continue growing in the ways he’s grown in season 2. He’s learned not to be a symbol of extreme retributive justice. What would it look like for him to model restorative justice practices instead? (Note: this doesn’t mean that he personally has to forgive August. That’s entirely up to Wilhelm.) How can he encourage his community to act differently?

For Felice—well, one of my few issues with season 2 was how they handled Felice, and how they made her ancillary to others’ arcs instead of having her own, but that’s a post for another time. All the same, I think Felice is learning to trust her instincts, push past her biases, and take a unique point of view on things. She’s able to look at the video and see the broken pixels rather than the scandalous gossip scene everyone’s talking about. She can sense Sara’s hiding a secret from her and knows Sara needs to talk. Even if the conversation they end up having is deeply upsetting for her, it brings truths to light that need to be shared. Felice doesn’t have every tool in the toolbox yet, but what she observes and how she interacts with people can be helpful in delivering justice.

I don’t have meta space to consider every parent and adult on the show and things they can do differently. But I expect in season 3 we’ll start to see some adults (I don’t think it’s likely that we’ll see all of them) consider the roles they play in perpetuating systems and cycles. At least, I hope so. It shouldn’t be all on the young people to achieve change in society.

As for the Hillerska culture, it needs to change too. It’s worth asking if a place like Hillerska should even exist. Every secondary Hillerska student is going to act a little bit differently in response to the events of the plot, and I don’t know if I’d buy it if the show tried to tell us the Hillerska culture changed overnight in a magical ripple of self-consciousness. We might see individual students taking baby steps toward responsibility and liberation here or there. We might just see status quo as usual. I think of all the threads in this story, this is the one I would be okay with seeing Lisa Ambjörn leave things unresolved or in a place of tension, as long as that tension feels intentionally placed. Because changing the world is hard, and not everything changes all at once.

Young Royals doesn’t have to tie up every loose end by the last episode of season 3, but I do think it’s already raised a lot of questions about the relationship between justice and storytelling and where we find catharsis in fiction and our own lives. These questions are worth us considering, even if the answers point toward all the work that still needs to be done for the future.

[darkhighness]

Good Omentober 29 - 1947

Prompt by @disaster-dog

Aziraphale reflects on 1947 through a series of diary entries.

January 1st

Dear Diary,

Well, here I am, bringing in yet another earthy year alone in the bookshop but it feels different somehow. I am finding it ever so hard to get through these days, almost as if some of Crowley’s existentialism found its way to me. After learning about the tragedy in Japan I am struggling to see the good in things. The whole last year felt like such a terrible blur, possibly due to it. I didn’t know all that much about the place but the few times I popped in it truly was quite lovely. I’d always meant to ask Crowley if he had been. I think he would’ve quite liked it.

I’m worried Crowley might be more involved than he letting on. I haven’t seen him since the early years of the war and while I don’t want to believe it, I can’t fathom all of this being anything but Hell’s creation. Even if he wasn’t the conceiver, he could've been called down to Hell at any moment.

But surely Crowley wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t have killed those Nazis if that were the case. He certainly wouldn’t have saved my books.

He’s a confusing one, that wily serpent.

I do hope I see him soon.

A.Z Fell.

---

May 4th

Dear Diary,

I found myself rearranging the bookshop again today. While I did enjoy the Dewey system for a while I fear it’s all too convoluted for me these days. I spent a terribly long time trying to organise everything based on how I felt when I read them. It’s a shame that so many books made me feel all manner of things. I do suppose I have some more to learn in that regard. I will finish the rearranging tomorrow, I think. Hopefully with a clearer head too.

I saw an advertisement for a lovely film called A Miracle on 34th Street. It seemed to get good reviews in the paper as well. I might even consider seeing it if time allows.

I still haven’t heard from Crowley. As each day passes I begin to wonder if he still wants to take part in our arrangement. I wonder sometimes if he was called back down to Hell and hasn’t been allowed to return to Earth.

Another part of me, a part that makes me so terribly sad, is wondering if he was discorporated since I saw him last. I try to not linger on that thought for too long. I’m sure the demon will appear as soon as time allows. He always seems to.

A.Z. Fell

---

June 17th

Dear Diary,

It appears as though I am not the only one who has been faced with a sense of impending doom as of late. I’ve had numerous customers asking about a magazine (which I will never carry mind you!) that has some kind of doomsday clock on the cover. It seems as if the state of the world has caused many troubled thoughts amongst the humans as well. I’m still managing to hold on to the faith I have in God that this is all part of the plan.

I do just wish things weren’t so terribly dismal thought. 

After doing more investigation into this doomsday phenomena, it seems as if the time of the clock is rather arbitrary. I do suppose that the almighty’s plan is ineffable, after all.

It seems much like the type of thing Crowley would be intrigued by. I purchased a copy of the magazine and I have it stashed away for when he returns.

I even managed to find some of that wine he likes so much.

A.Z Fell

---

June 30th

Dear Diary,

I found a new book for my collection today. It appears to be a diary, much like this one, but from a young girl during the war. I haven’t managed to finish it yet as it seems my Dutch is a little rustier than I anticipated but it’s truly something else. It feels important. I can’t help but listen to this young woman’s words, like she is desperate for someone to hear her.

Note: Order more copies of Het Achterhuis

They do say that tragedy is the greatest catalyst for art and these humans are terribly clever. I find myself wondering what they might come up with next. I just wish it didn’t take a war to do so. I have been praying more often, worried my faith is waning. I know I, a mere principality has no bearing on the ineffable plan but it’s getting harder and harder to see the bright side of all this. I do hope these blues that have overcome me will pass soon.

A.Z Fell

---

November 20th

Dear Diary,

Oh how fabulous it is to have these butterflies in my chest! I got to bless the most fabulous matrimony today of a young royal couple. I bestowed upon them all angelic gifts I could muster. I do hope they live a fabulous and joyous life.

It was simply delightful to have another assignment from Heaven come through. I was getting worried when things fell quiet but it appears things are well and truly returning to normal after all.

Well, as normal as they could be. Unfortunately there has still been no sign of the demon. I haven’t had to thwart any wiles recently. I pray he returns soon. I never thought I would ever miss the antics of a demon but my routine feels rather dull without the usual back and forth.

A.Z Fell

---

December 25th

Dear Diary,

This festive season has been absolutely wondrous. The decorations and traditions the humans have developed are simply beautiful and every year I get a chance to experience it all over again. I truly am the luckiest angel, it seems.

One of the lovely ladies from the shop down the road dropped of the most scrummy treats when she heard I’d be spending the day alone. She truly is a gem. I don’t mind it though. There’s enough joy in the air to please any angel.

I suppose I might have one ask. It may be hopeless but I do hope that wherever Crowley is, he is enjoying himself.

A.Z Fell

---

December 30th

Dear Diary,

I had the most wondrous visitor today. I never thought I would be relieved to see a demon but I’m oh so glad he popped in today. We might be going to the park later to ring in the new year. He tells me there’s something I simply must see. I do hope it’s not another statue of Gabriel.

I am so glad Crowley is home. Maybe 1948 will be the year that things turn around.

A.Z Fell

[freeced]

Hailing Frequencies (Part 1)

[art by @pockamune]

Lylack fiddled with the controls. There wasn't really anything to do with them right then, so the fiddling was redundant. Like playing an electric fiddle that wasn't plugged in. Electric fiddle, Lylack thought. Electric griddle. Mm...

The lanky springhare stretched both legs out onto the control panel and looked to their left, where a monument of empty Zapfood boxes regarded them balefully. It had been too long since the last stop, Lylack decided. Stocking up on packaged food didn't mean stocking up on proper meals, and the sooner they got to where they were going, the better. Back home, they would have simply stopped off at whatever highway diner happened along, confident that, wherever you are in the world, a pancake is more or less flat and edible.

Only, they weren't in the world anymore. They were in space, and whatever its charms, the vastness of the interstellar universe meant it wasn't just lacking in diners, it was lacking in everything. Between the little life-preserving systems ringed around their favorite life-sustaining stars, you weren't looking for friendly rest stop billboards so much as for two full atoms to rub together. There was nothing. And...

No one.

Lylack wouldn't have told you they were an introvert. You never would have had the chance to ask. For as long as they could remember, they had been burrowed away working on their little pet projects and flights of fancy, taking in society as a snorkel takes in air: a regrettable necessity that prevents its wearer from diving even further out of sight. It wasn't a question of how often they felt the need to be around other people, but how often their presence was required. In fact, it was one of the main reasons they had taken this job as an intergalactic bar delivery driver—the solitude, they assumed, would be comforting. And as it turned out, it was.

Yet, thought Lylack, as they checked the scanners for the millionth pointless time. Yet.

There was a difference between solitude and being all alone. It didn't set in right away, and it had a habit of fading from your mind when you were back on solid ground again. But these times, these long hauls, halfway between somewhere and somewhere else, just as far from anything as anything could be—this wasn't just a quiet place to think, it was a silence so intense it laid a blanket on your brain. Dimensions lost their shape, time became confused and seemed to go on only when you looked the other way. The clear sense of identity that tended to emerge from contemplation lost its balance way out here, unsure of the borders between the fathomless recesses of your mind and the beckoning infinity of space. At least, it did without a couple decent meals to spice things up.

Lylack glanced back over at the stack of Zapfood boxes over there on the floor. The portside cabin deck, they tried to glue into their brain. Not for the first time this trip, they considered going back into the cargo area to liberate a case of what this whole workaday voyage was supposed to be about.

Any decently advanced outpost had a food substantiator capable of synthesizing anything a bar or club might need—everything, that is, except the alcohol it made its money on. It was true that some quaint little places here and there still brewed their drinks the old fashioned way, but by and large, an operation of that kind relied on too many moving parts when you considered that most planets didn't even have an atmosphere thick enough to support traditional agriculture, never mind a business-minded person who might be carrying such antiquated expertise. To synthesize alcoholic drinks, then, as was standard practice, you needed a Wine, Beer, and Spirits Substantiator (WBSS) and a license to operate it, both items prohibitively expensive for any average establishment to bear up on its own. (There were also similar machines and licenses for other controlled substances—Lylack didn't concern themselves with these because it was enough headache remembering their own employer's ones.)

In fact, there was no actual difference in hardware between a regular food substantiator and one labeled as a WBSS, but manufacturers were required to lock unauthorized features safely away from consumer use. Tampering with a food substantiator with the intent to create illegal goods was punishable by severe fines, or, if done with intent to sell, imprisonment. The law, as is typical, ended up as a matter of cost, and it was far easier for most bar owners to turn a profit ordering their stock from light years away than to invest in legal manufacture locally or risk getting caught up in the aftermath of a smuggling operation gone bad.

It was a long way of convincing themselves that this delivery job was necessary, Lylack decided. They didn't decide whether their job actually was necessary, though. Not now. That was too much to think about out here where a vague sense of purpose could be the only line towing you along. Here where navigating scattered asteroids would feel like walking happily among a crowded room. Here where you'd give anything to see the screen light up with anything you hadn't entered in yourself. Here where—

It was lighting up.

Lylack scrambled to pull their legs back off the panel, and in so doing, lost their balance completely, tumbling backwards over the captain's chair and accidentally mashing keys as their long feet bounced off the controls. A comm link opened.

Lylack bounded back up behind the chair, their black-tipped ears making the first appearance, followed by a mess of purple hair and deep brown eyes that looked inquisitively up at the viewing screen. "Hello?" they said, squinting at the fuzzy image wavering in front of them until it resolved into a fuzzy face that squinted back before opening its own eyes wide.

The face opened its mouth as the comm speaker chattered to life. "Lylack?" it asked hesitantly, in a voice that cracked like sweet milk tea poured over lots of ice.

"Lylack, is that you?"

[bra1n-r0tt1ng]

Literally just finished reading episodes 1 through 72 of school bus graveyard and it has now consumed my soul.

So, obviously I have to make an au based on my other current hyperfixation, Twisted wonderland.

My thoughts begin with the first years being the main characters. I feel as though Yuu would take on the Ashlynn/Leader role of the group. Which makes sense considering Yuu is the unofficial leader whenever it comes down to it in game.

Frankly, nobody fits the exact molds of the other characters but I’m trying to boil them down to their base archetypes I guess??? I think Jack gives me the same vibes as Ben. Minus the anger issues. Very large, very protective, very quiet.

I think Ace probably fits best with Aiden, I feel they’re both very impulsive and though Ace is less creepy, he still seems like the type to do dumb shit that could get him killed… more so than the rest.

That being said I feel Deuce would probably fit best as Tyler. Now this might be a bit out there, considering Deuce and Ben both have pasta that revolve around being violent and having anger issues, but I feel Deuce resonates more with Tyler, due to his desperate protectiveness of his sister and mother. I think Deuce would be very protective, but also jump the gun and tend to lash out more like Tyler does when he’s scared.

With only two slots left and 3 characters, things get a little more difficult. Sebek, Epel, and Ortho are all very unique characters, and it’s difficult to place them in Logan and Taylor’s positions. Ultimately I think Ortho would probably take on a role closer to Taylor’s, as she is part of the mechanics club and also has a very caring attitude that seems to bring everyone together. I think Ortho, who also has a complicated relationship with a sibling, would fit pretty well.

Epel absolutely doesn’t fit into the nerd archetype, so when I place him in Logan’s shoes it’s mostly because one, I can see him getting bullied for his appearance, and two, Similarly to Logan I think him being the ‘unexpected sharpshooter’ would be awesome. That is in no way saying he’s week, but it just klicks in my head.

Now that does leave Sebek alone, what no actual correlation. But I love him so I’m including him anyway. I think he’d take on a role similar to Tyler’s. He’s very vocal about what he’s thinking but he also cares deeply for people. He’d take on a more protective position in the group, he’s very large and very strong, so I think he’d take it upon himself to try and protect the others.

Anyway, thanks for getting this far in yet another random Au idea. My hyperfixations come and go pretty quick but It’s 5 am, and I had to get this out of my system. I want to write this au so bad but I already am working on a fic and I have to dedicate myself to that :’)

[fenmere]

Ok, we're going to start an editing pass on The End of the Tunnel today.

So, before we do that, let's introduce one of the cast!

Ashwin Pember

(aka 'ashwin minbäoni)

Ashwin is the narrator and actual author of the book. Which is to say, @ashwin-the-artless lead the cast in writing the book while also crafting a character that was a fictionalized self insert -- as we typically do for our books.

Ashwin’s blog is written in kayfabe, and can be considered canon and supplemtal to all of our storied. So, this post is about nem in character (not our headmate).

English name: Ashwin Pember

English pronouns: they/them, nem/nemself

Inmararräo name: 'ashwin minbäoni

Inmararräo pronoun: nem

gender: what's a gender?

Orientation: ace while on Earth (sexually attracted to other Ktletaccete, not humans - but also their hosts' human body is muddling things with dysphoria)

Background:

Ashwin was conceived some time after the Pembers originally hatched, getting nems identity and name from the hero of a story that their Caretaker read to them.

They were a member of the system throughout the events of the Sunspot Chronicles, but aren't named in any of those books. Then, when the lifespan of their vessel came to its natural end a couple hundred years after the events of Outsider, they played a large role in acting as nurse and custodian for the rest of their system.

Ashwin is one of the rare Ktletaccete who has not yet discovered their Art (a lifelong special interest or passion that neurotypical Ktletaccete develop in adolescence). After a full Ktletaccete life of roughly 450 Earth years and 90 Earth years more of living as an Ancestor (Crew) in the Networks of the Sunspot, nem is anything but inexperienced and unskilled, however.

They do have a tendency to feel as if nem is still a child because of this lack of Art, though.

So, when Phage (the character of @ohthatphage) started exploring the network of Tunnel Apparati that link the Exodus Ships together, and discovered a Tunnel on Earth, and called for volunteers to help it make contact with the people there, Ashwin was the first to stop forward.

It turns out that the first Earthlings that Phage encountered and chose as liaisons (Sarah and Goreth Ampersand) were plural. And they had plural friends (Erik and the Audreys), thanks to the tendancy of people of the same neurotype to find and cling to each other out of sympathy and solidarity.

Since Ashwin had been the member of a system and also had experience ushering nems younger headmates into the world and culture of Ancestry on the Sunspot, they were an easy choice for Phage and the Council to approve as ambassador to Earth.

But it turns out that by going through the Tunnel to Earth, Ashwin has projected their consciousness into the psyche and system of Sarah and Goreth, and must now adapt to human neurology. This has the benefit of bypassing the need to translate English, once Ashwin's presence has grown enough to access the linguistic centers of their brain, but some things still don't fit. And Ashwin is left with physical dysphoria whenever they front alone.

So, it takes them a few weeks to get to the point where they can front and talk to people, and that’s where their book starts.

They have a goal, too. Nem isn't just on Earth to try to find their Art and get to know humans. There's a critical diplomatic mission to fulfill.

The reason there was a Tunnel Apparatus on Earth in the first place is that 22 million years ago, one of the Sunspot’s ancestor ships was traveling through Earth's region of the Milky Way and dropping probes onto planets that looked like they might develop civilizations. The motives of this ship are unknown (it no longer exists to be asked -- something happened to it). But the probe not only has a Tunnel Apparatus on it, but also a tank of construction nanites (part of how it remained functional for so long).

Those nanites pose a risk to Earth. They're programmed to only respond to commands from Earthlings. No Ktletaccete or anyone else can take them away from Earth. But the first Earthlings to learn how to command them or how to replicate them will have the power to transform Earth into their own vision, or reduce it to grey goo.

Ashwin's job is to help Phage vet and train a group of Earthlings to make the right decision before someone makes a terminally bad one.

Sarah, Goreth, and their friends just might be those Earthlings.