#but aside from that i actually quite enjoyed the characters and story. and not all supports are great but some are AMAZING

[my-current-obsession]

I have officially beaten FE Engage! Overall it’s a great game. I really enjoyed the gameplay this time, though a few chapters and paralogues were pretty frustrating. This was definitely the hardest FE game I’ve played (although ironically I found the final battle to be fairly easy), and mostly that’s a good thing. The extra challenge made it more satisfying when I came up with winning strategies. The story and characters were pretty good too! I definitely think this game has gotten unwarranted hate. Anyway, since I previously made a tier list showing my perception of the characters as units, here are some actual stats from the ending showing how right (or wrong) I was:

There was a 3-way tie for who made MVP the most between Alear, Yunaka, and somewhat to my surprise, Alcryst. They each were MVP 4 times. Clanne, Celine, and Alfred were right behind them, each being MVP 3 times.

Alear was unsurprisingly the fighter with the most battles (199) and wins (123). The benefits of being locked into EVERY story & paralogue chapter, I suppose. Her most used Emblem was Sigurd.

I talked at length about how good my Alfred was in the other post, and his stats back it up. He had the 2nd most battles (180) and tied for 3rd on wins (92). Most used emblem was Ike.

Similarly, Yunaka, who I thought might have the most battles and/or kills, had 166 battles and 92 wins. She was great, just not able to outdo Alear’s protag privilege or Alfred seeing a lot of action through Ike. She used Lyn most.

Alcryst had 150 battles and a whopping 107 wins. The boy killed. A lot. His most used emblem was Leif since I appreciated being able to switch weapons and fight back if attacked up close as well as potential Luna procs on Quadruple Hit.

I seriously undervalued how much use I got out of Clanne. He was 5th for both battles (127) and wins (89). Even though he’d fallen off by the end due to subpar magic attack, he did pretty well in early and mid game. His most used emblem was Micaiah.

As for other notable fighters, Citrinne, Diamant, Fogado, Rosado, and Kagetsu each had 100+ battles and 60+ kills. Everyone else either only achieved one of those feats, or neither. So these 5 finish out the “top ten” for my units, I guess.

I maintain that Hortensia is an MVP in her own right as a healer, but tragically the game doesn’t track that so her stats are poor since she didn’t fight much. Seadall was also essential to my team.

Finally one last fun statistic - the EMBLEM that achieved MVP the most was Sigurd. He contributed to 7 wins. I guess it’s not surprising considering he was the “most used” Emblem for 3 of my heavy hitters - Alear, Kagetsu, and Rosado.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[if-you-soul]

Mischaracterization in the CCCC fandom: a yapsesh (alternative title: Erm... What the Gore is Going On?)

Hi. Woaw. I'm actually making that post I talked about.

So. One thing I've noticed in the CCCC fandom is this weird fixation on gore, torture, violence, etc. Usually a level of graphic content that makes your average horror flick look... pretty tame!

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy horror! I even think a horror story based around psychological conflict similar to CCCC could work well!

But is it just me, or has this fandom COMPLETELY lost track of what the characters are like in the source material?

Like. Let's be real. Nowhere in the album does Soul do gruesome surgeries on Mind, nowhere does Mind go ripping people to shreds like Doomguy, et cetera. The closest thing we have to an implication of violence is what most of us call the "Juno incident"- as even "tines stabbed through eyes" is clearly a metaphor with the next line: "that the sides have condemned."

Im gonna talk ab the characters themselves under the cut

I feel the biggest victim of this mischaracterization is Soul. In the album he's... kind of a victim, really. He toughs out being dismissed and fought over and pushed aside and outright dehumanized for so, so long. Are we seriously just... going to characterize him based solely on his lowest point in TSE? Spring and a Storm and Mucka Blucka are also songs where he's present- along with his presence in Just Apathy that the fandom seems to outright deny to keep their characterization of him as some violent, abusive monster. (Which, again, is quite literally never alluded to! He's honestly kind of a victim, if anything!)

Ohhkay. Next topic. Mind. Oh boy I have thoughts on how people characterize Mind.

He's not emotionless. If you believe this, you've fallen for his stoic facade. All of his songs are just. So full of so much rage. Maybe even a little bit of grief and sadness and fear, masked by said rage. He isn't some emotionless robot- (Heart calls him an automaton as an insult, but that's another rant.) and honestly it feels like such a disservice to such an interesting character with so much unexplored depth to portray him as such.

Heart. Oh boy. Where do I start. Heart what did they do to you.

Heart is the emotional side, yes, but that isn't just some... smol innocent uwu baby who cries all the time. Emotions aren't small and cute and timid. They're INTENSE and PASSIONATE and EXHAUSTING. Strong emotions leave you so, so drained, good OR bad. This is so much more interesting than portraying him as some "uwu hai dere!!" type of character. Which is nowhere in the album.

Whole is hardly even a character. Soul worshipping and praying to whole is fanon.

This fandom's weird obsession with creating shock gore and one-upping each other in a violence competition has spiraled pretty far out of control, and it's honestly crazy. How do you go from an album about internal conflict to violence that would make even the cast of Resident Evil cringe? Brah.

Final notes uhhh. Soul is a victim who got pushed to his limit, not an evil heartless abuser. Mind is angry and unstable and hurt, not some emotionless robot. Heart is the entire emotional spectrum, not some innocent baby. Ok i . I think that's all. Have a good one

[vampireistic]

the problem with natlan / sumeru

warning: long post

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to preface this i’d like to say that i’m in no ways an expert in the topics present, i’m just an autistic dumbass with too much time on his hands who enjoys a bit of research — i’m in no way, shape or form trying to belittle players who are excited for the update, by all means i hope you enjoy it, i’m just trying to give criticism.

you can enjoy/play a game while criticising it simultaneously.

when it comes to the topic of racial diversity and a company like hoyoverse that’s based in china, there’s quite a lot of political baggage that comes along with it. while i’ll try my best to go over that, i’m afraid i can only give a very limited eastern european perspective on it and i’ll certainly get things wrong or misinterpret things — if you’d like a more thorough view on the politics, please go read the post made by @zeichannnnn (hope you don’t mind the tag my love)

firstly, i’ll be going over general misconceptions, ridiculous excuses and or stereotypes that i’ve seen commonly come up in this conversation.

any and all screenshots will have usernames cut off for privacy, i want to maintain a civilised discussion and not cause argument.

a lot of my critiques are more so towards the attitude the fandom has when it comes to this argument and their blatant colourism. as my friend above says, no one ever complained about characters in liyue/inazuma being paper white despite the fact realistically, no one in EA is that colour naturally. this of course stems from the beauty standards but that’s a discussion for later on.

the point is that if say a nation like liyue, had the same skin colour as a character like xinyan (who hails from liyue and has a liyue name) people would undoubtedly be upset. so why is it that when in terms of nations that are based off countries with a darker skin colour variety, complaining about the characters being white is seen as a problem?

culture isn’t defined by racial diversity, but when you’re monetising off the representation of different countries cultures, the very least you can do is show the actual diversity within said culture instead of slapping a cultural name on a white model (cue that one picture of the egyptian dude who looks like a plain american).

the idea that because it’s fantasy or anime, having black characters is surreal or improbable is rooted in white supremacy’s hold over unfair beauty standards as well as just the general consensus that black people are less desirable in media. which is completely false.

characters like dehya have proven that a character’s race is irrelevant when it comes to likeness, given the fact the chinese community ended up donating to charities because of said characters story.

the reason why the lightly toasted characters appear tan to you is because the rest of the cast is so horrifically pale (nahida’s hex code is #FFF7F1, cyno’s is #EEC6A6 which when placed next to each other may look like a big difference, but in reality the colours are on the same side of the colour wheel only a few spaces apart).

hoyoverse does in fact use culture as a mere aesthetic and costume to plant on white models. that is NOT to say they misrepresent culture entirely: this post goes over how hoyoverse is perfectly capable of doing impressive research to bring forth forgotten or unknown bits of culture.

even aside from the problems with racial diversity, the character design department has been known to completely fail when it comes to accurate representation. from the sexualisation of the kimono in characters like raiden shogun (which even the eastern part of the fandom have been upset about) to the character of yunjin where the chinese player based believed she was more like a lolita inspired caricature than a real depiction. they don’t understand how to mingle tradition with modernism.

in all fairness, it is difficult — and i will praise the game for making natlan much more technologically advanced and vibrant than people were expecting because having the one nation that’s based off africa and indigenous people be a wasteland would’ve ultimately been a problem. personally, i even love the slight mashup of “tribes” and the pokémon esque aesthetic — its new, and a smart way to bring two things together.

same thing cannot be said for how hyv ignores the fact darker people of colour are also significant when it comes to the building of culture.

please read over these that go more into depth about problems:

natlan being an amalgamation of three separate countries/cultures.

misrepresenting both continents natlan’s based from

another thing that’s always bothered me is the excuses people used in sumeru about the presentation of characters that were based off real people; specifically, kusanali.

yes, she’s based off a hindu moon goddess who’s described as pale and sure that could’ve been the reason she’s nearly the colour white — but how come candace, who’s based off kandake, a fully black woman, is presented as being slightly tan? you can’t pick and choose what you represent and honestly the idea that nahida’s character is supposed to be a depiction of the moon goddess is disrespect to the goddess herself (please go look at a singular picture of her and you’ll understand the utter tragedy).

hoyoverse also has a bit of a history with both whitewashing their slightly tan characters (nekomiya from zoneless zen zero, arlan from honkai star rail etc) but i think one of their biggest proofs of disrespect comes to carole pepper from hi3.

now, this is not at all me saying you can’t present female characters as very muscular — no. in fact, i would’ve loved if characters like beidou had a similar sort of build. but out of all the characters you could’ve chosen to give this to, you chose a black woman.

would this be a problem if it continued with other characters? not really. the issue lies within the fact the ONLY mother in game who’s presented as buff and “masculine looking” is a black woman — something that’s quite literally a stereotype against black women who are regarded as “naturally less feminine” than white women.

eastern beauty standards

the assertion that eastern beauty standards prevent the inclusion of black characters in video games is not only invalid but also reflects deeper issues of bias and systemic exclusion in the gaming industry. this argument is flawed for several reasons, including the diversity of beauty standards in eastern cultures, the global nature of the gaming market, and the responsibility of creators to reflect and promote inclusivity.

to claim that eastern beauty standards universally exclude black characters oversimplifies and homogenizes the diverse beauty ideals present in countries like japan, south korea, and china. these cultures are not monolithic and have their own histories and contemporary movements that embrace a variety of appearances.

creators in the gaming industry have a responsibility to reflect the diversity of the real world and promote inclusivity. video games are a powerful medium that can shape perceptions, challenge stereotypes, and foster empathy. by including black characters, game developers can contribute to a more inclusive and equitable society. this requires intentionality and a commitment to representation that goes beyond mere tokenism. the argument that eastern beauty standards prevent such inclusion suggests a lack of willingness to challenge existing norms and expand the narrative possibilities within games. hoyoverse have themselves stated in their mission statement that their goal is to show inclusivity.

that’s not to say it’s not clear that china’s beauty standards have unfortunately affected the gaming market: but for a game that brandishes itself on localising itself for a global audience (meaning, outside of its region), it’s a poor excuse. those standards aren’t universal and shouldn’t be used as gateway into designing.

once again, i am NOT at all very well versed in politics especially one that’s overseas (well, next door neighbour in a way) so i definitely will misinterpret or misunderstand things unintentionally and if i do, i’m really sorry.

historical nihilism to me doesn’t relate to black people, just actual story events (hence why hoyoverse had to put a warning label for fontaine that the events presented didn’t represent that of the real world and any similarities were mere coincidence). black people existing isn’t regarded as “politically harmful” neither is it an extraordinary idea — it’s just another group of people.

although, the CCP has a MASSIVE history about their demonisation and hatred of black people therefore, even without the idea that the censorship stems from something like historical nihilism, it’s likely something to do with individual prejudice.

politically, i can semi-understand why hoyoverse is in a tight space for racial diversity. but that doesn’t mean i’m willing to baby a company that profits billions worth of profit from other cultures that they misrepresent and i’m even less inclined to hold the hands of hoyoverse dickriders who believe people complain about race just solely to whine. it’s a real systemic issue, and one that’s prevalent in a multitude of games aside from genshin.

people from the cultures presented are rightfully upset and they shouldn’t be told to just “accept”mediocrity. it’s their culture and identities being ridiculed, it’s their identities being profited from for the sake of aesthetics for a game that preaches inclusivity to the people that are willing to ignore its prejudice.

hell, even as a polish person, just thinking about what they’ll do with snezhnaya upsets me even if it’s not racially based — once again, the media emphasises the idea that eastern europe / slavic culture is purely russia meanwhile they steal little things from all of the surrounding countries in eastern europe (won’t forget the fact they changed that password thing in sumeru from “ravioli” to “pierogi”).

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TL;DR hoyoverse uses other people’s cultures and identities as an aesthetic and proceeds to profit off of it while misrepresenting the sample of people they chose to depict and while a political argument can be made in this regard, ultimately the backlash from people rightfully feeling unjustified in the lack of racial diversity is what amplifies these colourist attitudes: and while hoyoverse has seemingly much more legal repercussions to commit to their idea of diversity, the fandom has no excuse for their disregard of different identities.

also just a funny thing my friend and i did to show just how white these characters are lol

“ blackwashing “ versus “ whitewashing “

i feel like i need to add this little section too because i know there will be a lot of people that draw or reimagine the characters in a variety of different skin tones, and i know a lot of people will be upset (usually it’s just the lowlife weebs who cry at the thought of a black woman being in the same room as them).

historically, media, including video games and anime, have predominantly featured pale-skinned characters, often neglecting the representation of people of color. this lack of diversity reinforces a narrow view of beauty and heroism, contributing to the systemic exclusion of non-white individuals. blackwashing helps to rectify these historical imbalances by providing a broader spectrum of racial representation. it challenges the default assumption that characters must be pale-skinned and introduces audiences to a more inclusive range of appearances.

representation matters profoundly in media. seeing characters that reflect one's own identity can have significant positive effects on self-esteem and cultural pride. blackwashing creates opportunities for black audiences to see themselves in roles and narratives traditionally dominated by pale-skinned characters.

critics (once again, youtube creators and tiktok lmao) of blackwashing often argue that it disrespects original character designs or cultural contexts. however, the impact of changing a character's skin tone is minimal compared to the harm caused by whitewashing. whitewashing often erases the cultural significance of non-white characters, perpetuating stereotypes and denying the rich diversity of the source material. blackwashing, in contrast, does not erase cultural identities but rather enhances the inclusivity of the media. it provides a more diverse and representative depiction without detracting from the character's original essence or storyline.

in addition, usually when a character is black in fantasy media or even just an anime/game with a lore based story, it’s because their race is significant to who they are (i.e tiana from princess and the frog who faces racial discrimination — without her being a person of colour, this storyline and the events that follow wouldn’t make sense).

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i’m sorry for such a long and probably nonsensical rant, but this has bothered me into absolute oblivion especially the community’s response to the uproar of people who rightfully critique and are upset by the company.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Alpha Dog (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Roomies to Lovers | Soulmate AU? 👀 Warnings: Chris’ POV, curvy/chubby MC, pet names, mentions and descriptions of werewolf mating cycles, mandatory Christopher is Intense™ warning (it’s even worse when you can read his thoughts), graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). Word Count: ~17k sobbing | AO3 Summary: Chris had a dream since he was very young. He wanted to have a pack of his own, to build a safe space for people with views just like his. Once he managed to accomplish that, he would’ve never imagined that his next dream would arrive at his doorstep in a pretty sundress.

Author’s Note: i wanted to expand Chris’ character in this series of stories, so this monster was born ! i think it could actually be a good starter piece for my WereRoomies series, or, if anything, just a good read 🤭 if you’re reading this, hope you enjoy, and don’t hesitate to let me know what you think !

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: thigh kink · possessiveness · a barely even present breeding kink · praising · oral [F.&M.Rec, but the M.Rec is not as detailed] · breast/nipple play · forced orgasm (F.Rec) · fingering [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · cum eating · marking (as in, sucking love bites on someone’s skin) · intercrural · cumshot/cum on body. there’s just a lot going on i’m sorry or am i? 👀

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Since the moment Chris gained his consciousness when he was very young, he knew what he was. It was impossible not to know, when the dynamic of his entire family was basically ingrained in his DNA. 

Chris was a werewolf. His mother was a werewolf, his father was a werewolf, as were his grandparents, and they were all part of the same pack since his grandparents joined it before Chris’ parents were even born.

Chris’ childhood pack was big, consisting of several different blood-related families that were being led by the same alpha. Due to the numerous members of that pack, it felt like it was more of a closed off community than a family–especially considering members of the pack that weren’t blood related would often mate with each other. Even as he grew up, Chris felt as if these people weren’t really close to him, aside, of course, from his blood relatives and his best friend, Changbin.

It wasn’t as if they were all bad people, he just didn’t feel like he could be fully himself with the rest. They were often a bit close minded when it came to werewolf ‘traditions’, with deep desires to keep humans at bay, or turn them whenever it was suitable for the pack, whenever they saw fit, regardless of the human’s wishes. Some of them would even believe in the designation hierarchy–alphas over betas and omegas, always–which was something Chris never really understood, nor supported in any way.

Thankfully for him, his blood family was quite progressive compared to the rest of the pack, and even if the others looked down on them for it, his parents decided to socialise Chris with humans from a young age. They sent him to a human school, let him have human friends–with the only condition to not reveal anything about his lycanthropy or the pack to them–and that contact with the outside world simply highlighted the fact that all these archaic customs in the pack made absolutely no sense to him.

So when puberty hit him, and his alpha nature started to really settle in him, he knew that he wanted to start a pack of his own. A pack where no member would feel judged or held back by the rest, where everyone could be equal.

It wasn’t really that much of a surprise, honestly. His parents always knew he would be an alpha–based on how thick-headed he was and how he would often lead his group of peers from a young age–so when Chris told his mother about this desire of his, she immediately supported him.

His father took a bit longer to accept it, but eventually he simply understood. ‘It’s too late for us. This pack is our family, we’ve already accepted the good as well as the bad, but you’ll always be our son whether you’re a member of it or not’, which was enough acceptance for Chris.

So as soon as he was of age and he went to university, he broke ties off with his childhood pack, and for a couple of years, he was seemingly on his own.

Some people from his childhood pack would even try to ridicule him, to look down on him whenever they met him on the streets or whenever he went to visit his parents. Chris knew it was because they thought he was crazy for being out there on his own. 

What they didn’t know was that he wasn’t really alone. He had Changbin and Jisung.

Before Chris left his childhood pack he told Changbin of his idea, of his goal of leading a pack of his own, and without missing a beat Changbin immediately told him he’d join him as soon as he was of age, as long as Chris wanted him. And of course Chris wanted Changbin in his pack, he was one of the few people he trusted more in this world.

Jisung was also a childhood friend, but he didn’t belong to the same pack Chris and Changbin did at the time. He became friends with them after his pack moved away from their previous den to form a new one in the same city Chris and Changbin grew up in. His parents enrolled him in the same school as them as soon as they settled, which was how the three of them met.

As it turned out, Jisung was also unhappy in his childhood pack, he was an omega, and much like Chris’ childhood pack, omegas were viewed as of lower status than any other designation, so he was often disregarded or even mistreated. And just like Changbin, as soon as Chris told Jisung of his future plans, Jisung also decided to join them when he was of age.

So while someone outside of Chris’ circle might’ve thought he was a lone wolf, a packless misfit, the reality was that he felt happier, more at ease while he waited for Changbin and Jisung to defect, than he ever did in his childhood pack. Two years wasn’t that long of a wait–considering that was the age gap between him and Changbin–so he decided to place his focus on his studies for those couple of years on his own.

Eventually, as the three of them grew up, Chris’ pack started to take more shape. Changbin was his obvious right hand, he had this sense of responsibility and protectiveness that made him a perfect second in command. However, Jisung never even entertained the possibility of being his left hand, because, in his words, ‘I’m not cut out for that, I’d get everyone starved or killed’, which was valid in Chris’ opinion, after all, it wasn’t really in his inherit nature to lead or protect others, quite the opposite actually, so Chris let it go without much of a fight.

Jisung did offer a candidate, though. A childhood friend of his, Minho, a human turned werewolf with no real pack of his own who had no real desire to lead, but was incredibly caring and protective, and, in Jisung’s words, someone who had a heart of gold.

As time went on, as they met more friends throughout their years at university, Chris’ pack grew. With the addition of Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin his pack became a tight group of eight young werewolves who were simply trying to find their place in the world, a group of people who weren’t happy in the conditions they lived in before and wanted a change, a healthy environment. 

Since then, Chris, Minho, and Changbin tried their absolute best to keep this safe, healthy ecosystem. And in Chris’ humble opinion, they were succeeding at that. Sure, they fought sometimes, just like any other family or pack or group of friends would, but things could always be solved one way or another. For once, Chris truly felt as if he was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing what he was supposed to do–what he wanted to do. 

Aside from his supernatural condition, Chris always thought of himself as a simple man. When his mind wasn’t dominated by his wolf instincts, he’d just feel like any other dude out there. He liked to play computer games, he had friends he’d often hang out with–not only his packmates, but also people he’d met throughout his life–and he had a stable, decent paying job as a software engineer which he quite enjoyed. But he’d admit that sometimes, it felt as if something was missing… And that something was romantic love.

The topic of love and romantic relationships was quite tricky for him. He’d dated a few people in his life, but no one really seemed to stick for too long, either because he was always a bit too intense of a guy, or because they simply didn’t really understand his pack’s dynamic.

Oftentimes, especially when he dated a human, they just couldn’t really understand why his ‘friends’ were so important to him. He’d been told things from ‘you care more about your friends than you care about me’, to ‘it’s a bit weird how close you are. Y’all practically live together?’ They simply wouldn’t get it, and it wasn’t like he could reveal his condition to just anyone and explain, so those relationships would end as soon as the person showed any discomfort in regards to his pack, which was honestly for the best.

Then on the other side of the spectrum, when he dated other werewolves, it all often fell too much into the traditional dynamic of ‘you’re an alpha, I’m an XYZ, so we must be and do things this and this way’, and even if he tried to break those moulds a bit, it just wouldn’t work out.

So one day, right after another failed relationship, Chris decided to just… Let things flow. He was fine being single.

Did he have the intense need to pamper and take care of someone romantically? Yes. Did he have physical needs that he wished he could fulfil with the warmth of another person? Also yes. But he decided to bear it regardless. If he never found someone who understood him and his family dynamic then he was happy to die single. After all, his pack was, and would always be, his utmost priority.

He would’ve never imagined that it would all change once he finally realised he couldn’t live on his own.

In the very early stages of Chris’ pack, they had to decide where their den would be. Changbin’s parents were well off, they owned a handful of buildings throughout the city, so with a bit of convincing, they let Chris, Changbin, Jisung, and anyone that came after settle in one of their buildings at a discount price. 

For a couple of years, the three of them lived in the same flat, but as more people joined Chris’ pack they kept rearranging themselves to get the best comfort, leaving Chris in a flat of his own, which was great at the beginning. He had his own space and privacy, and for a while, it was fine.

But when his grandparents passed away, leaving a huge house under Chris’ name, things changed. Between the expensive utility bills of his flat, and what he had to spend upkeeping his house in the woods, he just never had money to spare. He had to accept the fact that he needed a roommate, but everyone was already settled in their own living arrangements within the den, and he didn’t want to disrupt any of his packmates with this.

One day, during a phone call with his mother, Chris told her of this predicament of his, and she offered to help find a suitable roommate–as long as Chris wanted her help, of course.

He trusted his mother’s judgement, so he agreed, and next time she came to visit him, it looked like this woman had seen an angel come down from the heavens, because her face was glowing, and she exclaimed the most overly excited ‘Oh, honey! I got the perfect candidate. Remember my coworker’s daughter I always talk to you about?’

How could he not remember her coworker’s daughter when his mother tried to bring her up at least once whenever he came to visit? Of course he remembered you. His mother had met you a few times, always described you as a ‘beautiful, sensible, young woman’, and honestly sometimes Chris wondered if she was trying to set him up, especially when she’d conveniently mention how ‘you really need someone like that in your pack, pup… A sensible, caring figure would do you all some good, especially a female one. There are just too many males at your den, I don’t know how you get anything done…’

It honestly didn’t surprise him that much for her to say that, she was surrounded by incompetent males all the time, always had to pick up their messes, so she’d gotten quite radical on the importance of female figures… Chris just didn’t really care about the gender of his roommate or his packmates at all, so he decided to follow through with her suggestion.

Apparently, you had been looking to move out of your mother’s house, or that was what your mother told Chris’ mother, so considering you were someone his mother already knew who seemed to be nice enough, he said fuck it and told his mother to give you his number, requesting for her to ‘not get too excited. I just need a roommate, mum. For all I know she might not even integrate well, maybe she’d hardly ever be home… Relax, I’m not getting married, jeez…’ Which his mother honestly didn’t look too convinced about.

He expected nothing of it, really. He wasn’t even sure if you’d call, but a few days after he had that conversation with his mother, you finally called, and you both arranged a time for you to come visit so you could see the place for yourself.

He was, admittedly, a bit nervous, mostly because he didn’t want to make his condition known, or to make you uncomfortable in any way. After all, he was just an unknown man you were coming to meet and possibly live with.

When the day finally came, the moment Chris opened his door and met you he realised three things:

One, that you smelt like flowers. And not in a perfume way, more like in your natural scent way. Everyone had a different scent, it was typically more noticeable to him in other werewolves than humans, but humans most definitely had a scent, and you smelt just like freshly picked flowers.

Two, that you had a smile that could easily outshine the sun. When you smiled your cheeks would round up, and your eyes would disappear, and it was just such an endearing gesture it was hard for him not to focus on it. 

And three, that you had the most scrumptious body he had ever seen. 

Chris often prided himself on being a rational being, with a lot of self-control even for someone with a condition just like his, but as soon as he took in the shape of your body, it was almost as if he could feel his human mind short circuit and hear his inner wolf howling in desire.

He’d never been much of having a ‘type’ when it came to his partners, at least not physically. Sure, there were certain attributes he preferred, but in the grand scheme of things he’d fancied people with all different types of looks. That day, though, as he struggled to make coherent sentences and act normal while he showed you the place, Chris realised–quite puzzled, he might add–that maybe he did have a type, and maybe that type was you.

“So, this is the living room… As I mentioned on the phone, my friends often come to watch movies or just hang out. Don’t worry, though, they’re good people and very respectful. But I could totally understand if that’s something you can’t deal with”, why did you wear a sundress? Sure, it was starting to get hot out, but did you even realise how good that dress looked on you? You must’ve, there was no way you didn’t know how good you looked… Would you notice how hard he was trying not to look at your cleavage? He hoped you didn’t.

“If they truly are as nice as you say I don’t think I’ll mind, to be honest… If I move in I’d just… Prefer if they didn’t enter my room, I guess? Other than that I don’t mind”, you sounded genuine when you said it, and that did ease Chris’ worries a bit.

He took his sweet time showing you the place, the bathroom, what would be your bedroom if you moved in, even his bedroom, the kitchen, the pantry, the laundry room… All as an easy conversation flowed between you two, all as he struggled massively to not focus on the movement of your hips when you walked, to not focus on the sudden impulse he had to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close.

Stop being a creep, Christopher… She’s a person. A person with feelings, stop being a creep… He repeated to himself every time he caught his eyes wandering, and for the most part, he was succeeding. At least, until you sat down on one of the kitchen stools and crossed one leg over the other, making the hem of your dress rise a bit, exposing the skin of your thighs.

This must be a test, he reasoned with himself.

The universe was trying to test his self-control by presenting you to him, all pretty, kind, and with the softest looking thighs he had ever seen. Chris could feel his hands literally itching with need, wondering if you’d feel as soft all over as you looked, but he quickly shoved all these thoughts as deep as he could within himself, focusing instead on the things you were telling him.

You were so nice. Just as his mother had told him, you seemed to be very sensible, very down to earth, and those traits made it so he had no reservations about having a human like you living with him. Sure, Chris knew it would be difficult to keep his condition hidden, but regardless of that immediate reaction he had to your presence, there was just something in the back of his mind telling him that having you here would be good for him and his pack, so he decided to follow that gut instinct, telling you you could move in whenever, and in a week’s time, you did.

It was honestly a bit odd at first. Chris had been living on his own for a while, and sure, his packmates would often drop by and stay over, but having an unfamiliar scent at home was certainly weird the first couple of weeks. Even then, he’d admit it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. If anything, it just added a bit of life to the otherwise silent–and sometimes lonely–space.

You quickly got acquainted with his friends, Chris supposed it was hard for you not to when they spent so much time coming to his flat, and somehow you never really seemed to question it. At one point, you even adopted their mannerisms.

Chris’ pack was very affectionate, he’d be the first one to admit it. Pet names were a constant thing among the pack, cuddling was a must, and even if you still didn’t know about their condition, you simply accepted their loving, overly affectionate behaviour as the norm, and even embraced it.

The fact that Chris and his friends were werewolves was something he had decided was best for you not to know, at least not from the get-go. He told his packmates he just didn’t see the need, that it could be dangerous–in reality, he just didn’t want to spook you. He feared that the moment you found out of their lycanthropy you’d leave, and even if he wasn’t sure why, he just didn’t want that to happen, so he would often conveniently dance around the truth whenever their condition was involved.

A month after you moved in, Felix suggested to have a movie night, simply saying ‘we haven’t had one in a while, and I could really use one to unwind!’ It had been a really long week for Chris, too, and he figured it’d be a good way to include you in their communal activities. So, as it was customary, those who wanted to join would come to Chris’ flat.

It was just Felix, Changbin, Seungmin, you, and Chris that night, the rest of his packmates had other things to do, so they had to skip it, which maybe was for the best, that way all of you wouldn’t have to cram on the sofa.

Felix had promised to bring a big box of macarons from his workplace, and he delivered. The box was filled to the brim with an assortment of different flavours–not an elegant presentation by any means, and some of them got crushed on the way, but that wouldn’t stop any of them from devouring each and every cookie.

When he placed it on the kitchen counter and opened it, Chris spotted the pink ones immediately. They were his favourite, but there were only a handful of them in the entire box, to which Felix gave him an apologetic smile, a ‘there just weren’t enough by the end of my shift’, and a shrug when Chris looked at him with a sad pout on his lips.

Chris took popcorn-making duties, and by the time it was ready and in its designated bowls, the vacuums he had for packmates had somehow eaten almost every single pink macaron, leaving only one in the box. He saw the scene play in slow motion as you made your way into the kitchen and reached for that last cookie.

Chris liked to give things to people, he really did, but that pink macaron had been holding together his last shred of sanity that day, so he acted quickly, snatching it out of the box and giving you a “nuh-uh, cutie. This one’s for me”.

“Aw, Chris!” You tried to reach for it, but he held it over your head, as far away from your grabby hands as he could. “C’mon! Those are so good!”

“I know they’re good! That’s why I want it”, he chuckled, pulling it further away from your reach when you tried to grab it again.

“Don’t be mean, babe”, you were pouting and everything, which had his heart clenching a bit, but you didn’t need to know that. He had to stay strong so he could have this delicious treat. “Give it to me?”

“Say please and maybe I’ll consider it”, he wasn’t going to consider it, which was why he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. This was his strawberry macaron that he desperately needed, just the thought of the sugary cookie melting in his mouth had him already salivating.

However, Chris realised very quickly how ill-prepared he was for the situation he’d put himself in the moment you took a step closer to him, taking a hold of his hand that had been limp by his side, caressing the back of it with your thumb as you looked him right in the eyes with that pout on your lips.

“Please, baby… I really want it. I’ll bring you some tomorrow. Promise”, you brought your free hand to your heart, making a cross over it to emphasise that promise. “Please?”

For a second, he froze. His arm was getting tired from holding the stupid cookie over your head, and he dumbly stared at your face, shifting his focus from your lips to your eyes a few times. Did you… Did you know how cute you looked? Were you doing it on purpose? You must’ve known, right?

As soon as Chris started to feel his heart thump aggressively in his chest, he realised he had–very stupidly–walked himself into a corner. He had lost, and, in a poor attempt to not let you know how fast you had disarmed him, he sighed–rather dramatically–in what he hoped came across as annoyance.

“Alright, you can have it”, he brought the macaron down and held it to your lips. “But you’ll seriously have to buy me some tomorrow, yeah?”

The smile that came to your face made his heart skip a beat, and the second you took the macaron between your lips, lightly brushing his fingers in the process, Chris could’ve sworn his heart stopped completely. 

Before he could even register the movement, you had moved closer, suddenly pressing a quick, loud kiss to his cheek, muttering a ‘you’re the best, darling. I’ll bring you at least two dozen tomorrow!’ before you walked away and left the kitchen to join Seungmin and Felix on the sofa.

It all happened so fast, Chris could feel his skin burn where you had kissed him, and he realised too late that it was because he was blushing. Blushing! Why was he blushing? How dared his cheeks betray him this way?

“Dude…” Chris’ head snapped in the direction of Changbin’s voice, where he was looking at him from the other side of the kitchen counter, with the most insufferable grin on his face.

“Don’t”, Chris grumbled as he lifted a finger in Changbin’s direction, which only made Changbin’s grin widen. Grabbing the biggest bowl of popcorn, Chris decided to ignore his friend’s teasing eyes completely, finally leaving the kitchen to place the bowl on the coffee table and sit his ass as far away from you as possible. He could still feel his face burn, which made it all so much worse.

That night, after everyone left, after you retreated to your room and Chris was finally able to lay in bed, completely alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t stop thinking about that moment.

About the way your eyes were almost sparkling when he told you you could have the damn cookie, about the look of delight on your face when he fed it to you, about the damn kiss… It was all just a friendly gesture, really. You were just being nice, like you always were, but as his mind recounted the moment in an endless loop, he eventually realised that all those things he felt the day he saw you for the first time had just been warning signs.

He tried to push all these thoughts to the back of his mind again. You were his roommate. His human roommate who had no idea what Chris and his friends were. It was stupid of him to think about you as anything other than that, and yet, the more he interacted with you, the more time passed of you living with him at his den, the harder it became to ignore what he felt, especially whenever you went out on dates.

His logical, human side always tried to brush off the fact that you were dating people. After all, sometimes, you did come back home looking happy, as if you even had fun, which was a good thing. But his idiotic, wolf side just hated whenever you came home smelling like other men. He couldn’t–and wouldn’t–stop you because of it, of course. That would’ve been absolutely insane of him to do, but one day, when he saw your laundry hanging on the drying rack he just couldn’t help himself… 

Chris figured scenting your clothes wouldn’t hurt, right? You wouldn’t notice… And other people might not even notice, either, but he just wanted you to come home and still smell like him, and frequently, that worked. He’d admit he even grew a bit more shameless about it as time went on, hugging you or kissing your forehead before you left the house to leave his scent on you–something you never really questioned, either.

Whenever his pack members commented on it, Chris simply told them it was for protection, to keep you safe from other wolves–he wasn’t sure if they believed him, considering they wouldn’t stop teasing him about it every time they could…

By the fourth month of you living here, he was sure he had mastered the art of Ignoring His Feelings.

He would still scent your clothes, especially on nights like this one, where you were going on a date with some guy. But other than that he was doing an excellent job at not thinking about you in any ways other than platonic–or at least, that was what Chris tried to tell himself.

Truth was, he still had those impulsive thoughts from time to time. Soft. Nice. Pretty… 

He would quickly stop his train of thought whenever he caught himself, disregarding the almost instinctual way his hands flexed whenever he looked at you. Tonight, before you left, he tried his best to absolutely ignore the dress you were wearing and how good you looked in it, and how it hugged your curves so nicely, and the way your thighs looked in those tights… Would he ever be able to touch them? Squeeze them? Maybe even kiss–

The sudden sound of growls startled him, breaking his train of thought. Chris chuckled, amused by the way Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin chased their tails while running in circles in the middle of his living room. “What the hell are you even doing?”

“They’re trying to see who can catch his tail faster”, Felix replied simply, taking a sip of the soda in his hand, slinging an arm over Chris’ shoulders.

“You’re gonna hurt yourselves. Stop that”, Minho grumbled from the kitchen, where he and Seungmin prepared snacks for the night.

Among the growls coming from the three spinning wolves, and the constant talking between the rest, Chris failed to hear the sound of the front door opening. It took him a second too late to be hit by the smell of your floral scent, and by the time he had registered it and jumped to his feet from where he had been slouching on the sofa, it was too late.

You stood wide eyed by the hall, looking between the three wolves in the middle of the living room. For a second, everyone froze, looking in your direction, and before Chris could even say anything, he stared in horror as Jeongin started to shift back into his human form.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Jeongin had the nerve to say to you, as if he wasn’t buttnaked, as if he hadn’t just shapeshifted right in front of your eyes.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times. Your gaze shifted from the two wolves and Jeongin to everyone else in the room, landing on Chris last. He saw your hands tremble a bit, and, in an instant, before he could even register the movement, you were bolting out the door.

Chris immediately sprung into action, chasing you, calling for you. “Wait!”

You weren’t supposed to be here. You had a date. You were even prepared in case you wouldn’t even come back tonight, or, at least, that was what you told Chris before you left earlier that day. Panic brewed quickly inside of him, he really couldn’t let you go like this.

Chris caught up to you on the stairs, right on the landing between one floor and the other. Taking a hold of your elbow, he tugged you back before you kept going on your way. “Wait! Listen–”

“What the fuck?!” You tried to pry yourself away. In a different circumstance, Chris would’ve let you go on the spot, but this was no ordinary situation, so he simply tightened his hold, keeping you in place and within reach. Your eyes widened, and he saw immediately the exact moment you realised the extent of his strength.

“Listen to me. It’s not–”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Your eyes frantically roamed his face, and the combination of confusion and fear he could see in your eyes made his heart clench. “What does it look like, then?! Huh, Christopher?!”

Chris opened and closed his mouth a few times, but the words wouldn’t come out. What should he say? That what you saw wasn’t real? That you must’ve misinterpreted it all? That would’ve been the right thing to do, wouldn’t it? But as he looked into your eyes, he just couldn’t find it in him to lie to you.

“I just saw Jeongin’s body twist and turn in ways I would’ve never even imagined were possible!” Your lower lip was trembling slightly, the words that came out of your mouth were unsteady, and your scent was starting to tint with what Chris could only define as panic, which in turn was making him panic. “What the fuck was that about?! What are you people?”

“I– We–” The words just wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He should’ve had a plan for this, it was only a matter of time for you to find out their little secret, but he truly hadn’t expected it to be so soon. 

Upon his unresponsiveness, you tried to pull yourself away from him again, and Chris couldn’t help but tighten his hold on your arm in response. He hadn’t meant to, but he was going into fight or flight and his body seemed to be trying its absolute best to keep you from leaving.

You winced, and the grimace on your face started the alarm bells in his head. “Chris… Please. It hurts”.

Chris let go of your arm as if it had caught on fire, and when you brought your other hand to soothe the area he had been holding onto, when he saw that look of discomfort on your face, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty.

He’d failed you.

He hurt you, he failed you, and the amount of distress that realisation brought him was quickly taking a hold of each and every single one of his nerve-endings.

“God, I’m so sorry”, Chris took a step back, avoiding your eyes entirely. “So, so sorry… I didn’t mean–”

“What are you, Chris?” Your voice trembled again, but it didn’t seem like you’d run away.

With a deep intake of breath, Chris tried to find the courage to look you in the eyes again. “I’m… I’m a werewolf”.

You blinked, looking him up and down, looking at him like he had three heads. “A… A werewolf?”

“Mm… Only Jeongin shifted when he saw you, probably out of stress or because he panicked… The three wolves… It was Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin. We’re all werewolves”.

“Werewolves… As in… Half human, half wolf? Like in fairy tales?” You sounded genuinely incredulous, and Chris couldn’t blame you.

He shrugged, tucking his hands in his short’s pockets, looking away from you again, fixing his gaze on the floor. “They’re not just fairy tales. There’s a whole world of creatures out there you don’t even know about, but it’s there”.

“Can’t believe this…” You muttered to yourself, threading your fingers through your hair, tugging the strands between your fingers.

“You… You can’t tell anyone–”

“Who the hell would I tell?!” You chuckled, a chuckle that lacked any semblance of amusement, and it made him wince.

You both stayed in silence, neither of you sure on what to say to the other. Until finally, you heaved a sigh, turning to continue your walk down the stairs. “Werewolves… This is all madness…”

“Wait–!”

“Don’t!” You whipped your face in Chris’ direction. Your hands were shaking. Actually, it looked like your entire body was shaking. “Don’t follow me”, was the last thing you told him, and he would never forget the look in your eyes that day, completely lost, void of your usual shine.

Chris just stood there for a moment, listening to the quick clack clack clacks of your heels as you walked the steps, until he finally heard the main door of the building opening and eventually slamming closed. He could feel his heart ache, just the memory of the tone of your voice and that look in your eyes made his heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Chris was at a loss, unable to comprehend how it all got out of hand so quickly. He should’ve known, this was bound to happen eventually, they couldn’t keep hiding from you forever. But what he hadn’t expected was the feeling of utter dejection the entire exchange brought him.

After a few minutes, when Chris was back in his flat, with the seven pairs of eyes staring worriedly at him, he realised he had to get a grip.

“Chris, I’m sorry. It’s my fault–” Jeongin started, looking absolutely ashamed, but Chris stopped him immediately. 

“Don’t worry about it. She was going to find out eventually”, he was honestly proud at how even his voice was coming out of his mouth, and he hoped his packmates couldn’t feel the weird emotional state he was in. He shot Minho and Changbin a quick look, and they seemed to catch onto his signal fairly quickly–if the way they stiffened was anything to go by. “You guys go on. I’m… Tired. I’ll just be in my room, Yeah?” 

No one seemed to question it, for which Chris was grateful. He needed some time alone to think, but even then the presence of his packmates just out of his door did comfort him a bit.

You were gone for a long while after that. The mood of the pack had almost reached the core of the planet by how low it was, but admittedly, Chris had taken the biggest blow. Eventually, everyone noticed, but no one other than Minho talked to him about it. ‘She’ll come around, I’m sure’, he told Chris one day, but it was hard for him to believe those words when he could still get a phantom of the panic in your scent whenever he was on his own. 

You didn’t tell her in time. You hurt her. You failed her… His brain wouldn’t stop nagging him day and night. He tried to convince himself that there was no need for him to feel the way he did, that these things happened sometimes, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy, he had to make it up to you somehow.

He tried to text you, a ‘hey… how’re you’ that you didn’t reply to. The rest of the pack tried to as well, explaining as much as they could, but you also didn’t reply to them. No one had been able to get a hold of you, and Chris was just losing all hope. 

Until seven days after the entire thing the sound of a key going into his front door’s keyhole startled him, pumping adrenaline through his system, making him jump out of his bed. By the time you were opening the door and stepping into the flat Chris was already coming out of his room, looking at you.

“So…” You cleared your throat once you closed the door behind you, dropping your keys in their designated bowl on the bureau, and crossing your arms over your chest. “Werewolves?”

Chris nodded, staying rooted on the spot, afraid any movement he made would scare you in any way. “Werewolves”.

“Does it… Does it hurt when you shift?” Out of all the things you could’ve asked, that wasn’t exactly what Chris thought you’d ask first, not after being away for so long, but he decided to answer regardless. There was no point in hiding it now, the cat–or should he say, the wolf…–was already out of the bag.

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as well. “It’s not comfortable, but it doesn’t really hurt hurt”.

“Mmm…” You stayed silent for a bit, until your eyes found Chris’, and you took a step closer. “So… You guys are like… A pack? A pack of wolves?” Chris simply nodded in response, and since he didn’t say anything else, you continued. “Why would you even let me move in?”

“You’re nice”, Chris replied immediately, maybe a bit too fast. But it was the truth, so he felt like saying it. “Very nice. At the time it just… Made sense to me”.

“So, you’re like… Their leader? What’s it called… Alpha?”

Chris chuckled. “Where did you even get this from? But yes, I’m the alpha of the pack”. 

“It’s amazing what you can find on the Internet these days��, you shrugged. “Did you ever even have intentions of telling me all this? Did you lie to me about anything else?”

Chris shook his head. “No, we… We’re exactly the same people you met. The fact that we are what we are was the only thing I didn’t…” Chris sighed. “Honestly? I wanted to tell you. But I was… A bit scared you’d get spooked and leave”.

“You don’t want me to leave?” You sounded genuinely incredulous, and it puzzled him. 

“‘Course not”, Chris said it like it was the most logical thing in the world. In reality, it wasn’t. You were a human, a human living in a werewolf den. It seemingly didn’t make sense, but to Chris, somehow, it made all the sense in the world. “Do you want to leave?”

You looked at him for a moment. Chris held his breath, watching you closely once you finally moved, coming towards him.

Tentatively, you walked into his space, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. As soon as your scent engulfed him fully, his body reacted almost on its own, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you close, and heaving an almost involuntary sigh of relief.

“I don’t”, you mumbled against his shoulder, and the way your lips brushed his bare skin had his ears heating up. He should’ve put on a t-shirt before he left his room to meet you… “You guys… Are really nice, too”.

Chris hummed, hugging you a bit tighter for a while, for as long as you’d let him. Eventually, you were speaking again.

“So… If I’m staying at this werewolf den, does that mean you’re my alpha, too?”

Chris was glad you were not a werewolf. If you had been you would’ve heard how quickly his heart started to beat when you said that. The mere idea that you’d call him your alpha awoke something in him. Something he couldn’t unpack right here right now with you in his arms. 

You clearly didn’t know what that meant, you just made a logical assumption based on the little information you probably had, but if he ever heard you call him your alpha out loud he was sure he’d explode. So he decided to reach a middle ground, innocuous enough you wouldn’t be able to tell how much he was struggling with this. 

“Only–” His voice betrayed him, coming out of his mouth a bit strained. So he cleared his throat, trying to act normal. “Only if you’re a member of the pack, I suppose”. 

“Am I?” You asked, sounding genuinely curious. 

“If… If you want. Being a member of the pack… Entitles many things. if you’re willing to abide by those things then of course you can”. 

You hummed, burying your face further in the crook of his neck. 

“For what is worth, I… Already see you as one. It’s been that way for a while, actually”, Chris could’ve sworn he heard your heart start beating a bit faster after he said that, and in turn his heart started to beat faster in his chest.

“Oh?” You pulled away from his neck, finding his gaze, looking him straight in the eyes. “So I’m under the big bad wolf’s protection, huh?” 

Chris huffed out an incredulous laugh, amused by your choice of words, but he couldn’t help himself when the following words came out of his mouth. “Well, I’m not doing a good job at that, am I?”

You frowned. Smooth it out. Make her smile, his instincts told him, once again pushing to the front of his mind those impulses he so desperately tried to ignore. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I mean…” Chris suddenly couldn’t hold your gaze, but the way his eyes decided to focus on your mouth were certainly not making it any easier. Plump, soft, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss–stop. Focus… “The day you left, on the stairs… I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, and I shouldn’t have. I’m incredibly sorry”. 

You went quiet for a moment, your eyes flickering between his, looking at him so intensely Chris could feel heat start to creep on the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how close you were. Finally, you inhaled sharply. 

“I forgive you”.

Chris blinked, and his brows furrowed. “But–” 

“What do you mean ‘but’?” You chuckled, untangling your arms away from his neck to cradle his face in your hands instead. “You apologised, and I accept your apology. Honestly, it was barely anything. I… Understand what you were trying to do. In the four months I’ve been living here you have never hurt me, not even made me feel uncomfortable, Chris. This is all insane, completely nuts, and I’m warning you right now, I’m gonna be super annoying about it, but I trust you. All of you. But you especially”. 

At that moment, Chris pulled himself away from you entirely, hopefully before you noticed how quickly his cheeks were flushing, making his way into the living room and rambling on about how you could ask him anything you wanted and offering you dinner from what he had prepared that night for himself.

It seemed like you took a lot of interest in their condition after that. 

‘So that’s why you’re so warm?’

‘That’s why y’all leave once a month? To run under the full moon, seriously?’

‘Can you eat chocolate?’ 

‘Would you show me your wolf form?’ 

‘What’s a knot?’

You were really curious, maybe a bit too much. Chris was more than happy to answer your questions, but when you started to ask about mating, and knots, and ruts, and heats, he’d admit he got a little flustered–maybe embarrassingly so. Mostly because, whenever you so much as mentioned anything that got too into the topic of sex, he’d just get waves and waves of improper thoughts. He’d wonder too much, he’d start getting worked up as if he was a fucking teenager who’d never touched a person in his life, so he tried to avoid those questions whenever he could.

The rest of the pack welcomed you back with open arms. They liked you before, but now that you knew their secret, it was almost as if something flipped in the way they interacted with you.

The first time one of them called you ‘mum’, Chris almost dug himself a Christopher-sized hole and buried himself alive. It was Seungmin who started the entire thing, because of course it was, Seungmin loved to see him struggle the most, clearly. And when you asked Chris about it, he simply told you the rest of the pack started to see you as a person they could lean on–which was half of the truth, he would’ve been caught dead before admitting to you that they were rubbing in his face how absolutely smitten he was.

He knew it before, of course. How he felt. Even if he tried to ignore it, if he tried to pretend it was all an instinctual thing because he had a pretty girl living with him, there was no way he could lie to himself for much longer. The moment you found out of their lycanthropy and you decided to stay and help, instead of running away in fear, he just couldn’t deny it any longer.

Sometimes, it felt as if the universe had taken all these qualities he could’ve ever needed in his life, all these qualities he hadn’t even realised he yearned for, and put them all in a person, put them all in you and threw you at his doorstep in a pretty sundress, as if to say ‘here, this is the one. Good fucking luck’. Honestly, in retrospect, Chris stood no chance. There was no way he wouldn’t have developed feelings for you.

Regardless of how he felt, he tried his best to be respectful, to not make you uncomfortable in any way. He really did try his best, but by heaven and hell if there weren’t moments where he almost risked it all…

Chris could still remember the first time he saw you wearing a pair of leggings. The stretchy material hugged your lower limbs so perfectly it didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination… The sight of the fabric stretched over your perfectly round bottom and your big thighs almost broke down all those protective walls he had decided to put between you and him–especially when the very first thought he had as soon as he saw you on them was to bend you over the kitchen counter, rip the thing to pieces, and dive face first into your cunt from behind.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty every time he had those thoughts about you. In his mind, you just didn’t deserve that, for some horny creep to be secretly looking at you and thinking all these lewd, dirty things about you, but the more time passed, the more he got to know you, those thoughts became more and more frequent. And the most painful part of it all wasn’t just the undeniable sexual aspect of it all.

Chris often wanted to talk to you about anything and everything, to hold you, kiss you, feed you, cuddle you, just overall take care of you, and that feeling only intensified as soon as you started to take care of his packmates, as soon as you inadvertently fell fully into the position of pack parent right next to him for real. Sure, the rest of the pack members looked up to you to some degree, and they often called you mum to tease him, but he hadn’t truly grasped the extent of it all.

Chris hadn’t noticed that was what was happening at first, but one day, he saw as you took care of a sick Seungmin so attentively it just hit him like a ton of bricks.

You were so perfect for that role in his pack, and the fact that you were doing all those things, without even being romantically involved with him made him feel both warm with love and pained with longing. He knew then that you were supposed to be there next to him, with him, but that was something he couldn’t push on you, not when it didn’t seem like you were feeling the same things towards him in the slightest.

Or at least, that was what Chris tried to tell himself, to delude himself into not overstepping those boundaries between you two. The reality was that, sometimes, Chris thought he might’ve had a chance.

Times when he hugged you tight and he could hear your heartbeat pick up its pace, or when you sent him silly memes that you thought he’d find funny, or times when you teased him, almost, almost as if you were flirting with him, or whenever you took interest in his lycanthropy, or…

He often recalled very fondly how you would snuggle into him whenever you fell asleep on the sofa while watching a movie with him. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, he’d wake up with you in his arms, with your head tucked under his chin. Those times, he’d always pretend to be asleep for as long as he could, selfishly enjoying your warmth until you eventually woke up, gave him a kiss on the cheek with a racing heart, and mumbled sleepy apologies before retreating to your room. He’d tried to convince himself that you possibly feeling the same way was all wishful thinking, so he never truly entertained those thoughts.

Even then, there were things he just couldn’t stop himself from doing. At some point, scenting your clothes just wasn’t enough for him, so he started lending you articles of clothing of his–hoodies, mostly. He would’ve loved to see you wearing his t-shirts, or his bathrobe, but hoodies were a good enough compromise in his mind. He’d always give them to you whenever you showed any sign of feeling even remotely chilly, and he soon realised that that need of having you wrapped in his scent only grew bigger the closer his rut was.

The first rut Chris went into after you moved in was, quite honestly, insane. He was able to recognise the signs early enough to leave the flat he shared with you and stay at one of the vacant ones in the building, and when it finally hit him, it hit him hard. He didn’t think he’d had such a painful rut in his life–aside from the first one, which to this day he was sure was the perfect representation of what being in hell would feel like. 

Logically, he could’ve asked a friend to help him out. It was always best to deal with these things with another person there, but, somehow, the mere thought of being with someone like that after he realised his feelings for you was… Really unpleasant, so he decided to bear it on his own.

During that rut, all his inner wolf wanted was to have you. Your scent plagued his mind, the mental image of you and your thighs and your soft body had him with his fist around his cock the entire time, but it was never enough. He yearned to pleasure you, to taste you, to make you come undone for him as many times as he could, to have you in every possible way he could, to pump you full of his cum and breed you, and the fact that he couldn’t do that had him in both physical and emotional pain.

The worst part was that Chris felt like shit not only because whenever he was able to orgasm it didn’t seem to quench his desires a single bit, but also because he was thinking of you in such a way again. At the time, he was so desperate he could hardly think about it, but as soon as his rut subsided he had this immense guilt plaguing him. So much so he wasn’t able to look you in the eyes for a week straight after, so he swore he would try his best to never break your trust like that ever again.

And for a handful of months, it worked. He’d still share his hoodies with you, still have the need to hug you, and touch you, and take care of you, but whenever his mind drifted too much he’d give himself a reality check. She’s your roommate. Your friend. You’re more than just a horny dog, Christopher, he’d berate himself often, keeping his distance however he could.

It was hard sometimes, though. You’d taken this habit of looking him in the eyes… You used to do it before, too, but somehow it seemed different lately. Your gaze would linger on his for a few seconds longer than usual, enough to trigger his primal instincts, to make him want to assert his dominance–normally, that’d mean he’d want to physically fight for it, but with you, the only way his body wanted to assert his dominance was by bending you over and fucking you stupid, which didn’t help his case one bit.

It was incredibly silly of him to think that way whenever you looked him in the eyes for too long, considering that, even if you could, he just knew there was no way you’d challenge him for his position in the pack. So he’d always talk himself down of his instinctual reaction, reminding himself of who you were, of how he couldn’t let himself hurt you, or cross your boundaries in any way.

But his resolve crumbled a little over a year after you moved in, when Chris saw your freshly washed clothes messily sprawled on your bed while you were ovulating, almost as if you had prepared a pretty little nest for him to breed you in. That, coupled with the fact that you were wearing his clothes at the same time, triggered his already upcoming rut right then and there.

His mind clouded quickly, your floral scent filled every single crevice within him, making his alpha instincts kick in. Pleasure, dominate, breed, breed, breed… The words resonated repeatedly within him as he struggled to keep it together, to not jump you on the spot and do something he would regret, to not hurt you.

When he desperately tried to leave the flat, you just wouldn’t let him, you were clearly worried about him, and if there was one thing Chris had learnt about you was that it wasn’t in your nature to just ignore a friend in need. But God, you just smelt so good… It was getting increasingly harder to not act on his impulses. 

You kept looking him in the eyes, and it wasn’t making it any easier, not when his instincts wouldn’t just shut the fuck up. Show her. Make her submit. Dominate, dominate, dominate…

‘Go lock yourself in your fucking room while I can still think and hold back’, he held to his last shred of sanity until the very last second, all while his humanity and his inner wolf fought for dominance over his actions during the entire interaction.

What he hadn’t expected, though, was for you to return his feelings, for you to want him. ‘What if I don’t want you to hold back?’ 

In a second, as soon as the words left your mouth, he finally let himself see, hear, and smell all the signs. Your flushed face, your heart thumping aggressively in your chest, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air… He simply snapped. The second you gave him your consent and he finally got a taste of you, Chris knew there was no going back for him. He was in deep.

He wouldn’t be able to get over the feeling of your lips on his, the sounds that came out of your mouth whenever he touched you, the smell of your scent laced with so much lust he was almost vibrating with excitement at the prospect of all the things he could do to you, of how good he’d make you feel.

‘Wanna be mine? Just say it, love, and I’ll make you mine. All mine’.

Claim, claim, claim… No, no claiming, Christopher. Too soon, too soon, that’s not what she needs right now…

‘Wanna be yours… Wanted to for so long, too’.

For so long, for so long, for so long… She’s mine, mine, mine, all for me…

Finally, Chris was able to let go of his inhibitions and fulfil all those desires and needs he’d had for the longest time. Not only was he able to quench his thirst with your essence on his tongue, or release all that tension that kept on building within him with the intoxicating feel of the soft skin of your inner thighs and the velvety walls of your cunt wrapped around his cock, but also he made you feel so much pleasure you were barely even able to talk and walk after he did. That simple fact had his chest swelling with pride, had him going through so many waves of his rut that by the fourth day of fucking you nonstop he could barely stand the tiniest movement around his cock.

Chris was being driven by both his emotional and physical needs the entire time, driven by his instincts to fulfil both his and your desires, but by the fourth night of his rut he had regained some of his human clarity back. It was just as you two were having a bath, as you took care of him, washing his hair–something no one had ever come remotely close to doing after he became an adult–that he came to a very important realisation.

Not only had you taken the time to understand him and the role he had within his pack, you’d taken the time to understand each and every single member in it, you supported them all in every way you could, and even though you were human, your body was able to take Chris in his most animalistic state. So it was right then, right as he looked at the soft, focused features of your face when you massaged his scalp, that he realised that the universe had really made you all for him, perfect just for him.

He’d said this to you time and time again throughout his rut, because it just felt right to say them, but only then did he realise how true it all was.

It wasn’t unheard of. It happened often in werewolves. Not to every single one, but it was often enough that he was able to connect the dots. It was said that there would always be someone out there that would be able to strengthen those areas a wolf might be lacking in. And for Chris, that someone was you. 

Even when he woke up the next day, with his mind finally clear of his more animalistic impulses and desires, he knew that to be the truth.

It was a lot to take in, and if it was a lot for him who had been labelled Mr Intense several times throughout his life by both friends and partners, he was sure it would’ve been a lot for you, too. So he decided to file this for later, for it to be discussed when the time was right.

As it was now, he felt as if everything had been done backwards, so he had to start settling the foundations of a possible relationship with you–sure, you’d let him fuck you silly for four days straight, but what if you had been influenced by his pheromones? What if you realised you didn’t want him like that? That it’d be too much?

So he asked you out on a date, he wanted to take you to the seasonal fair, and to his delight–and maybe relief…–you accepted. It was almost comical how fast his heart would beat whenever you got close to him during that date, especially so considering he had already told you so many filthy, intimate things during his rut, but as you tugged him along to rides and games and food stalls, it all felt different to him somehow. More meaningful, perhaps.

That evening, when you were both walking back home, as Chris held your hand tightly in his, right under the seasonal lights that had been placed above the road, he just couldn’t help himself when he cradled your face and kissed you. A slow, sensual kiss that had his heart doing flips in his chest, and he simply revelled in the way you moved closer to him, in the way you held his coat tightly in your hands, in the way your lips moved against his.

A motion so natural he just couldn’t believe he hadn’t been doing this since the day he met you. When he pulled back, he asked you to be his girlfriend, and the moment you said yes, his heart soared, and he couldn’t help but feel incredibly giddy.

Now, Chris could hold you as much as he wanted, touch you as much as he wanted, he could tell you everything without having to measure his words, and he was so, so ready to enjoy every second of it. To enjoy every single second he’d spend with you–even more than he did before.

You were still sleeping in your bedroom, or at least, you did for the first few days after your date. That was fine by Chris, he had been making up for the lost time at work because of the ‘unexpected sick leave’ he had to take during his rut, so he was coming home late at night, barely even seeing your pretty face before he took a shower and dropped dead on his bed until the next day. It was best for you to sleep on your own so he wouldn’t disturb you. That was Chris’ reasoning.

At least, until tonight.

“Hey”, your voice made him look away from his phone and over his shoulder, finding you peeking your head from behind the door with a shy smile on your lips.

“Why are you up? You should be sleeping, love”, Chris turned, lying on his back and fixing his eyes on you.

“I missed you”, you replied simply, making your way into the room, your words effectively bringing heat to the back of his neck.

Chris let out a content sigh, watching you get on his bed and finally straddle his hips. His hands settled on your thighs, rubbing up and down in soothing motions. If only it weren’t so cold so you weren’t wearing these pyjama bottoms… They were cute, fluffy, with doughnuts printed all over them, but he selfishly wished he could feel your skin under his hands.

“Missed you, too. So much”.

You leaned into him, resting your entire body weight on him to press a kiss to his lips. Chris could definitely get used to this. To the feeling of you pressed against him, even with the duvet separating your bodies, he just loved feeling you close, especially when you kissed him so softly, so… Lovingly.

You’d been his girlfriend for a total of three days, it had been almost an entire week since the end of his rut, and you two hadn’t had sex since then. You’d told him you needed some time to recover, which was perfectly fine. Chris himself felt like he needed a short break as well, after all, getting back into his normal rhythm after a rut was always a process.

Besides that, though, your comfort was always his first priority, it had always been that way, but even more so now. He wanted to wait until you felt fine, until you were ready for it again. 

Although, he’d admit it wasn’t particularly easy. Not when you looked Like That all the time and he just wanted to sink his teeth on your soft flesh any time he got the tiniest glimpse of your skin. 

Sure, he was no longer in a rut, he was a coherent man, with coherent thoughts, completely capable of simply enjoying your presence without escalating any further than a hug or a kiss. But tonight, as his tongue made its way into your mouth, as your hips rolled against him, as his hands started to roam your back, only to settle on your rear to fondle the supple flesh, Chris was truly starting to feel ravenous, desperate to feel you, desperate to make you feel incredibly good.

“Chris, baby…” you mumbled against his lips, resuming your motions immediately after the words left your mouth, pressing pecks on his lips. 

“Hm?” Chris took your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently, gripping your buttcheeks tighter, and the whimper that came out of your mouth almost, almost made him lightheaded with how fast blood rushed to his cock. 

“Want you…”

Chris’ eyes snapped open, and he pulled away from you to look you in the eyes, finding your blown pupils and flushed cheeks. Beautiful, gorgeous, pretty… Swallowing, he brought a hand to your cheek, softly dragging his thumb over your skin. “Pretty… You sure? Are you feeling okay?”

“Mm”, with a hard roll of your hips to emphasise your statement, you pressed a brief kiss on his lips. “Positive. I’ve almost forgotten how you feel like inside me, baby. That’s a crime”.

Chris huffed an incredulous chuckle. “So soon? Damn, must’ve not fucked you enough, then”.

“Oh, you fucked me plenty. I just want more”, a grin spread on your lips, looking utterly shameless, and Chris would lie if he said it didn’t excite him.

“Greedy, huh?” 

Before you could even attempt to bite back, Chris rolled to the side, taking you with him, effectively wrapping you in the duvet, like the most adorable burrito, and trapping you under him, eliciting a yelp from your lips with the movement.

“Not fair”, God, you shouldn’t be allowed to pout, it disarmed him way too quickly. Chris couldn’t help but peck your lips, as many times as necessary, until you started giggling.

“What? My pretty baby wants to be on top?” Chris placed a kiss on your cheekbone. Your skin was warm, soft, you smelt like your moisturiser and your floral scent, and he just absolutely loved it.

“Maybe”, you mumbled, sounding more distracted now that Chris’ lips had descended to your neck, now that he was kissing and nibbling your skin.

Your hands roamed his back, making him shiver, especially so when you dragged your fingers down his spine, finally reaching his bum, and confidently squeezing. “Why are you naked?” You chuckled, clearly amused, and Chris settled his weight on his elbows so he could look at your face better.

“I was already ready to sleep, baby. You know I sleep naked”.

“You do?” You laughed, and it made him smile. “I thought the kids were saying that just to mess with you”.

“Oh, they were messing with me”, Chris chuckled. “But they weren’t lying”.

“So… If we start sleeping together, you’d sleep naked, too?” You squeezed his buttcheek again, a bit harder this time. It was barely anything, but it was working him up way more than it should have, for sure. Chris was already hard and leaking just by your presence, by your warmth and your kisses, but even then the simple implication that you wanted to share a bed with him every night had his heart doing flips in his chest, had his cock twitching with need.

“Would you mind?” He pulled away from you enough to untangle the duvet away from your body. As soon as you were released, he tugged on your pyjama top, and you let him get it off of you immediately.

“Not one bit”, was all you replied, and Chris gave you a hum of acknowledgement just as he tugged your bottoms off.

He got, admittedly, a bit distracted. Of course you wouldn’t be wearing any underwear under your pyjamas, you were ready for bed already, but it still caught him off guard.

The marks he’d left on your body during his rut were starting to fade, and all he wanted right now was to mark you all over again. Did he have a problem? Maybe he did. As his hands made their way to cup your tits, squeezing them briefly only to finally settle on playing with your nipples, the sounds that were coming out of your mouth made it incredibly hard for him to care.

“How’re you this pretty, huh?” While Chris kept softly rolling your nipples between his fingers, your hands came to hold his wrists, gently rubbing his skin with your thumbs as you arched your back, moaning oh, so sweetly for him.

“Chris, babe…” Your hold on his wrists tightened, shifting Chris’ attention from your breasts to your eyes again. The smell of your arousal had him literally salivating, had him feeling like a hungry dog, ready to devour you whole, and when you dropped the most desperate ‘kiss me’ he couldn’t help but do just that, removing his hands from your chest to hug you close.

You whined as soon as his lips landed on yours, moulding to yours time and time again, eventually pushing his tongue inside your mouth, savouring you, swallowing every sigh and every whimper that fell from your lips. He kissed you for a while, enjoying the feeling of you holding him tightly, enjoying the way your heartbeat kept picking up its pace, until the slow, deep kisses turned messier, more eager, until he couldn’t ignore just how badly he wanted to have a taste of you.

As he started his descent down your torso, kissing your clavicle, your chest, sucking your nipple into his mouth to play with the hardened bud for a bit with his tongue, he couldn’t help his hands from roaming your body. Your thighs, your hips, your sides, anywhere he could reach.

His fingers sunk on your flesh, eliciting quiet whimpers from your mouth, just as he kept licking the pebbled skin of your nipples and your hardened buds. Chris just really couldn’t help himself from kneading and squeezing your skin, tracing every dip, every roll, every curve, until his mouth finally resumed its path further down your body.

“Baby…” You mumbled once Chris’ mouth attached to your lower belly, nipping and kissing and sucking on your skin, making you squirm.

“Hm?” Chris would admit he was only partially listening, there was not much coherent thinking going on in his brain at that moment, all he could think about was you, you, you, and your soft skin, and your floral scent, and how it was all heavily tinted with lust.

You didn’t say anything, though, you simply inhaled a shaky breath once Chris’ attention was shifting again, from your lower belly to your mound, and finally, bringing his forearms under your thighs, he pushed them towards your chest, attaching his mouth to your skin so he could repaint all those marks that had started to fade.

He vaguely registered the words ‘such delicious thighs, fuck…’ coming out of his mouth, just as he vaguely registered the whimper you gave him in response. He repeated his motions until he was satisfied with the amount of freshly made love bites on your thighs, finally directing his attention to your dripping heat.

Chris truly was just a simple man.

A simple man with simple needs.

Sinking his fingers in the soft skin of your thighs, keeping you spread open for him, he finally dived, licking a slow, fat stripe from your entrance to your clit, all but moaning at your taste on his tongue, brows pulled together in bliss.

Chris got comfortable, laying on his stomach, and slurping you up. The moans and whines and whimpers that came out of your mouth with each and every single one of his movements, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, the way your hand pushed on his head to get him impossibly closer to you, only encouraged him more. Your free hand came to rest on one of his, and he wasted no time letting go of your thigh to hold your hand instead, linking his fingers with yours, relishing the warmth of your palm against his.

“Oh, fuck…” Your legs started to tremble as soon as he eased two fingers into you, and his mind raced with the feel of your heat wrapped around his digits. So warm, soft… He wasn’t sure if the words actually left his mouth or if it was just his instincts taking a hold of his mind, but he honestly didn’t care, either. 

As he started to add more and more fingers, until he was stretching you open as much as he could, your thighs clamped around his head, and Chris truly, truly couldn’t contain the literal animalistic growl that came out of his mouth, muffling against your skin as he diligently sucked your clit into his mouth and licked it with his tongue.

Letting go of your hand to grip your outer thigh, he simply encouraged you to keep that position, to borderline suffocate him with your legs, and honestly for all he cared he could’ve died right then and there, choked by the most delicious thighs he’d ever had the pleasure of touching, of kissing, of fucking–

Shit, he wanted to fuck your thighs. Would you ever let him do that again? Between the feeling of your walls around his fingers, your taste on his tongue, the sinful sounds coming out of your mouth, and the mere thought of fucking your thighs again, he could feel himself start to leak even more fluids, surely soiling his bedsheets–not like he cared much about it, to be honest.

Chris decided to ignore that thought altogether. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing that up, not right now. So he shifted his focus back into the now, back to your hand tugging his hair and his fingers in your cunt and his mouth on your clit.

For a split second, he wondered if he should stop, if he should slow down to prolong this further, to eventually build you up once again and enhance your impending release. He’d been the one teasing you about it earlier, but the truth was, tonight, he was the greedy one, desperate to bring you unadulterated pleasure, so he didn’t stop.

Instead, he just sped up his fingers, thrusting harder, curling them up against that sweet spot within your walls in the exact way he’d learnt would have you curling your toes and flexing your thighs. He sucked harder, licked harder, revelling in the cries coming out of your mouth, revelling in the feel of you, all soft and warm and his.

When you came, moaning his name like the sweetest song he’d ever heard, Chris’ thoughts hazed, feeling your walls clenching repeatedly around his fingers, feeling your thighs twitching slightly around his head. And the moment you tried to pull yourself away from him, he just didn’t budge, bringing his hand from where it had been gripping your thigh to your hip, holding you tight and pinning you in place.

“Oh, fuck… Fuck, fuck, Chris, you–Shit–” Whatever it was you were trying to tell him got caught in your throat, all words replaced by broken moans and whines, which only fueled that determination that had quickly built within him. Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, pleasure…

Chris didn’t relent until you were shaking with a consecutive high, until you tugged on his hair and begged with a breathless ‘Shit, Chris, darling, can’t handle it anymore, please…’ effectively snapping him out of it. Pulling on your thighs to get you to release your hold on him, and kissing his way up your body, Chris’ lips finally found your face, kissing away the salty tears that had run down your cheeks, only to finally find your mouth and kiss you deeply.

You let out the dreamiest sigh of relief when he kissed you, making him hum against your mouth, and as you hugged him close to you, tightly, bare chest against bare chest, his heart felt as if it was ready to burst at the seams.

“Fuck, love, you okay?” Chris wanted to check, to make sure his greediness didn’t get the best of him, and when you nodded enthusiastically, finding his lips and kissing him again, that minimal worry in his mind dissipated instantly.

“No business being that good with your mouth, fuck”, you mumbled against his lips, making him chuckle, just as you wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Got a bit carried away… I can tone it down next time, if that’s what you want”, he teased you a bit with a grin on his lips, just as he held the base of his length and guided it to your entrance.

“Don’t you dare”, you replied almost immediately, pressing another loud kiss on his lips. “Want you just as you are. You always make me feel so good, baby…”

Chris hummed, content, keeping himself propped up on one elbow, kissing you as he dragged his tip up and down your folds, getting drenched in your slick. He was fully intending on not fucking you yet, on giving you time to catch your breath, he truly just wanted to feel your wetness against his cock, but when you noticed what he was doing, and urged him with a ‘if you don’t get inside of me right now I’ll cry for real, baby, please’, he simply couldn’t deny you.

Heaven, heaven, heaven, heaven, warm, warm, warm… “Fuck, it really hasn’t been that long, but I missed being inside you”, Chris couldn’t help but mumble against the skin of your neck once he bottomed out, relishing the way your walls just hugged him so perfectly, relishing how warm and snug it felt.

“Me too, baby”, you chuckled softly, threading your fingers through his hair, mindlessly playing with it. 

Keeping himself propped up enough, and once his other hand found yours, linking your fingers together, Chris finally started to move. He started slow, savouring every drag of his cock against your heat just as he kept kissing you, swallowing your quiet moans.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he pressed slow, wet kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck, making you squirm in his hold, and the whines that came out of your mouth as you bared your neck for him had his pace picking up just the tiniest bit, had his instincts kicking in and his lips sucking purple splotches on your skin. Mark, mark, mark, mark…

It truly hadn’t been that long, but now that he was able to feel you like this again, Chris realised he had missed it more than he thought. How could he not, when you were so warm, so soft, and just so, so perfect for him in every way, and as he whispered these things in your ear, all while bringing his hands under you, one holding your shoulder, and the other holding one of your buttcheeks to keep you from sliding away from him with his movements, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that that was the absolute, irrevocable truth. 

“All yours, Chris”, you mumbled back to him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, the reassurance alone sending sparks of pleasure up and down his spine, and when you added a “just like you’re all mine, too”, emphasised with a tug on his hair, he just couldn’t hold back the sounds that were coming out of his mouth, nor the rumbling that started to resonate from deep within him. Which, had he not been absolutely drunk on your presence, would’ve puzzled him, and maybe embarrass him a bit.

It wasn’t that common for alphas to rumble outside of their rut, and Chris was no exception to this. He could probably count with one hand the times he had rumbled after puberty. But as he continued to pleasure you, to indulge in your body, he realised his quiet, slow, almost involuntary rumble was just another sign. Another sign that he was all yours, you were all his, and nothing had ever made more sense to him in this life than those two facts.

Holding you tightly, he rolled to the side, bringing you with him so you could sit on him, making you gasp with the change in angle once he was buried within your walls again.

“C’mon, pretty… Didn’t you want to be on top? Ride me”, he mumbled against the skin of your neck, sinking his fingers on the swell of your hips. “Ride me like you mean it, love. Show me how much you wanted it”.

And you did. He attached his mouth to your chest, determined to leave as many love bites as he could like he did with your thighs, just as he could feel his body burn from the inside out while you bounced on his cock. Mine, mine, mine, mine…. 

Time slipped between his fingers, his mind and body lost completely on you, just like you got lost on him, exploring one another until you came once more, until you eventually got off his lap, took him between your lips and made him come in your mouth. When he borderline begged you to open up and show him, he was sure the sight of his cum pooled in your mouth would be ingrained in his brain forever, and when he asked you to swallow and you did, showing him your clean tongue right after, he couldn’t help but feel tingly all over, so incredibly enraptured by you, and your mouth, and your body, and your mind, and your absolutely everything.

After a quick clean up and more kisses and more caring words, Chris simply hugged you close under the covers, burying his face in the crook of your neck as your fingers buried in his curls and massaged his scalp softly. The sound of your heartbeat under his ear was lulling him to sleep, and when you held him even tighter against your body and he started to rumble again, he simply didn’t question it, too tired and sleepy and in love to care at all once he finally fell asleep that night.

Starting a romantic relationship with you meant that there were hardly any reservations in this flat anymore. Chris would walk around almost naked most of the time, wearing nothing but comfortable, loose fitting pyjama shorts, just as you’d do the same. Walking around topless or wearing only your underwear under one of his oversized tees, and honestly Chris was having the time of his life seeing so much of your body all the time he had to make a conscious effort to not have his hands on you all the time–he failed miserably every time, but by the heavens he was trying.

You both had decided to keep Chris’ bedroom as your shared room, whereas your room would become a study of sorts for both, since you kindly requested ‘no work in the bedroom, darling, please’, which was perfectly reasonable. 

The dynamic within the pack didn’t change at all, you were already doing all the things the partner of a pack’s alpha would typically do before you got together, so the only minor difference now was that you and Chris would often engage in very shameless public displays of affection, eliciting a groan or two from the younger members of the pack. They’d have to endure it, because Chris had no plans to stop any time soon. And he was very unapologetic about it.

Others, though, started airing his dirty laundry to you. ‘I wish you could’ve heard how fast his heart would beat when you got close to him before. How flustered he got…’ Seungmin just wouldn’t shut up about it, and even though you were his girlfriend now and all his prior struggles were something you were very aware of, Chris still threatened to smack him with a slipper if he kept talking to you about it–a completely empty threat, but it did slow down his jabs a bit.

By the two month mark Chris was one hundred percent sure he’d never felt this good in a relationship before, and if these couple of months were an omen of how the rest of his life would be, he was more than ready for it. 

“Baby, no offence, but no wonder you had to get a roommate”, you chuckled, mindlessly playing with his hair.

Chris laid on his back with his head between your legs, your tummy posing as the softest pillow he’d ever used. Your legs draped over his shoulders, caging his head between them while he played on his phone. It was a common position for Chris and you to ‘cuddle’ at this point, just laying together on the sofa as both of you took some time to unwind from the long day, scrolling on your phones, watching TV, or engaging in conversation.

“What’d you find?” Chris mindlessly caressed the skin of your outer thigh, squeezing the flesh here and there whenever he felt like it.

A few days ago, you had offered to help organise the finances of the pack, and today Chris was finally able to send you all the documents he could find related to everyone’s income and expenses. He’d been taking care of it on his own, but he found the task to be incredibly annoying and sometimes even confusing, so he’d be the first to admit he wasn’t doing as well as he could’ve with it… Especially with his own finances.

“Well, the kids seem to be taking care of their expenses well enough… They could probably cut down on some extras if they want to have some extra money…” Chris was trying his best to listen, he really was, but he started to zone out almost immediately, distracted by the warmth of your thighs around his head.

He squeezed your thigh, inhaling sharply, getting almost overwhelmed by your scent. “But you…” His ears perked up, focusing on what you were telling him. “Do you even know you are being billed for all these things? What do you even need a scooter insurance for?”

“I’m still paying for that insurance?!”

“Mhm, look”, you handed him your phone. Chris looked at the numbers on the screen, incredulous, and slightly annoyed with himself for forgetting about these things. “Do you even have a scooter?”

“Sold it ages ago, before I even got the car”, he scoffed, handing you your phone back. “Guess it just… Slipped my mind to cancel that thing”.

“There are more like these, y’know?” You chuckled, gently tugging on his hair. “You reckless wolf, what am I gonna do with you?”

Chris simply chuckled in response, turning his head a bit to place a kiss on your inner thigh as you continued to list things he had completely forgotten about. It took you both a while to go through everything, by the time you were done, he had pulled himself from between your legs, deciding to instead sit with his back against the backrest, spreading his legs as much as he wanted, with your legs laying over his.

There was some film playing on the TV. Chris tried to keep his eyes glued to it, but in all honesty, he wasn’t watching any of it, he didn’t even know which film it was.

The way you were laying on the sofa with your legs on his lap made it so the t-shirt you were wearing rode up almost completely, leaving your thighs on full display for Chris to touch and stare at. It was nothing unusual or particularly revealing, but he’d spent the past hour just squeezing and massaging your thighs, and the motions were getting him really worked up. Maybe embarrassingly so.

Even if he’d fucked you silly and seen you naked a thousand times already, he was somehow especially affected today. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had sex in a few days–which was fine, contrary to what the rest teased Chris for, you two didn’t fuck every single day. Several times a week? Yes. But not every day. Mostly because either one of you would be too exhausted due to your jobs or your studies or whatever situation you both were going through that week.

Chris had caught himself thinking about your thighs a lot lately. Whenever you sat on his lap, or when you draped your legs over him when you slept, he just couldn’t help but look at them, to touch them. It had gotten to the point where, whenever your schedules got busy and you couldn’t get intimate for one reason or the other, he’d found himself wanking one off thinking maybe bit too much about your thighs. Touching them, kissing them, sucking on them, fucking them…

“Baby…” He squeezed your thigh lightly, keeping his eyes focused on the way the skin dipped under his hold. “If I tell you something… Something slightly embarrassing… Would you judge me?”

You turned away from your phone to look at him. “Never, babe. What’s bothering you?”

Chris swallowed the saliva he hadn’t even realised had pooled in his mouth, massaging your thighs a bit more firmly. “I… Really, really like your thighs…”

“I can tell”, you tucked your phone under the cushion you were using to prop yourself up, giving him your full attention. “That’s not embarrassing, though?”

“That’s not the embarrassing part…” Taking a deep breath, Chris licked his lips. He’d had a chub for a long while now, he’d been trying to ignore it, but the more he touched your bare skin, the more he just enjoyed the feeling of your soft flesh under his fingertips, he just couldn’t ignore it any longer. “I… Think about them often. Maybe too often. About how soft and squishy and big they are…”

“You do?” There was a bit of a teasing tone in your voice, but the way your heartbeat suddenly quickened was enough for Chris to know you weren’t teasing him because you found it particularly amusing, but just to get him even more worked up, to get him to react, and honestly he willingly fell for it, just like he did every single time.

“Mhm…” It wasn’t anything particularly new, not to him. The thighs… They’ve always been a part of a person’s body he’d tended to focus on, and the only time he tried to openly discuss it with someone in depth they looked at him like he was crazy, so he was embarrassed, and maybe a little apprehensive. But right now, he was just horny and in love and your thighs were just so soft, he just couldn’t contain the words from leaving his mouth. “Fuck, pretty, wanna fuck them so bad right now. Just… Really wanna come all over them…”

Chris had only ever fucked your thighs during his rut, he’d never brought that up into your day to day sexual activities. He was just convinced it wasn’t exactly common to have such cravings, considering he’d had partners tell him that before. Sure, you’d let him do it already when he was going through his rut, but there were a lot of pheromones and hormonal rushes involved back then, this was different. This was his completely coherent human self wanting to fuck a part of your body that wasn’t exactly common to want to fuck.

Licking your lips, and with a shaky intake of breath, you brought your hand to his, placing it there to bring his attention to your eyes. “Wanna do it now?”

There was no hint of judgement in your eyes, if anything Chris could see your pupils dilate, he could hear your heart beating faster in your chest, so he gave you an almost shy nod. “Do you, though?”

Your hold on his hand tightened a bit. “These are yours, Chris. I’m all yours”, your low tone, the desire coating your words, had him biting his lower lip and inhaling deeply, getting a whiff of your floral scent slightly tinted with lust, and it was honestly starting to cloud his mind a bit. “I don’t think it’s anything to be embarrassed about, baby. I actually think it’s quite hot… Makes me feel… Wanted. Is that how it is? Do you want me?”

“‘Course I do. Never not want you, pretty”, sneaking his hand between your thighs, Chris squeezed the tender flesh at the highest point, right where it met your core, making you almost squeal.

You stared back at him, in that way that almost made his alpha instincts kick in, in that way that made him want to make you submit to him in any way he could, but before Chris could say anything–or do anything–you spoke again. “Well… There’s massage oil in the coffee table…”

Of course there was massage oil in one of the drawers of the coffee table. You and Chris kept it there since before you got together, for times where the other felt their shoulders particularly stiff or for when any of the kids came over with the same problem. He’d lie if he said he never thought about… Using it in more inappropriate ways before, but it had been so long since you’d used it he had honestly forgotten about it.

With a chuckle, Chris shuffled a bit, careful not to let your legs fall out of his lap as he leaned forward to open the drawer and take out the bottle. Settling back on the sofa, as comfortable as he could, he instructed you, “scoot your legs back a bit, love. Need to take my shorts off”.

So you did, and once he found himself bare, he guided you towards him just as he slouched further into the sofa, bringing your legs back to his lap. Taking the bottle of oil, Chris took his time lathering your inner thighs with it, lightly massaging your flesh as he went, relishing the way your breathing was starting to get a bit more laboured with each drag of his hands on your skin, until finally, he soaked his cock, giving himself a couple of languid pumps.

Once Chris was content with how soaked you both were, he gave you the bottle so you could place it on the floor, just as he guided your legs to close around his length, and the sigh of relief that left his lips was honestly almost pathetic to his ears–not like he could care much about it when the most delicious thighs he’d ever seen were practically suffocating his cock.

“So good, fuck…” It wasn’t a particularly easy angle to do this in, but he was too far gone to care, so Chris simply angled his body towards you enough for both of you to be comfortable. Slowly, he started to thrust, his eyes focused on the sight of his tip popping out from between your legs, almost rubbing your core with each motion, feeling himself leak and almost drool as tiny sparks of pleasure started to travel down his spine. 

There was a voice at the back of his head telling him that he wasn’t taking care of your pleasure, that he was being too selfish by rutting himself between your thighs like this, but before he could even feel bad about it, Chris heard you whimper, and when his eyes snapped from the sight of his cock between your legs to your face, he couldn’t help but swallow. Your face was flushed, your lower lip trapped between your teeth, and your brows furrowed as you looked back at him.

“Is this how you wanted me, darling?” When the words left your mouth, almost breathless, Chris swallowed again, slowly nodding. Somehow, you looked like you were enjoying it as much as he did, and that realisation had him growing impossibly hard.

“Just like this, pretty… Seriously, these thighs of yours… They’re gonna be the death of me. So full and soft… So delicious…” Sliding one of his hands under your shirt, he found one of your breasts, kneading it and squeezing it for a bit only to finally pinch your nipple between his fingers in tandem with his cock pumping itself between your legs, relishing the soft moan that left your mouth when he did.

“Babe, I want you to… To enjoy yourself”, there was a pout on your lips, but Chris could feel your thighs twitch every time he rolled your nipple between his fingers, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh, I am”, letting his head fall onto the backrest, Chris just looked at your face, at the way it scrunched up in pleasure and the way your eyelids fluttered shut with every movement of his, just as one of his hands kept working you up and the other held onto your thigh to keep you in place while he fucked himself between them. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby… Most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen…”

Chris had this habit of rambling and running his mouth when he was horny or when he was feeling vulnerable. He’d told you this before, so he was sure you weren’t surprised by the things that came out of his mouth when you had sex by now, but everything he said was something he truly believed, it wasn’t all just horny talk. His last statement was no exception. You were, truly, the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he’d believed that since the very first day he saw you.

You just whimpered in response, clenching your thighs harder, making him groan with the motion. Pulling your tee further up your torso, you brought your hand to your other breast, kneading it and playing with your nipple as Chris kept stimulating the other, as he kept fucking your thighs, and honestly he didn’t know where to look–to your gorgeous, blissed out face, to your hand and his working your chest, or to where his cock popped out from between your legs… It was all so much, and so, so good, and he truly was almost drooling with the intensity of it all.

It went on like this for a while, until Chris felt his orgasm grow closer. He hazily reached a compromise with himself, to let himself come first, something he didn’t do often. He usually preferred to have you reach your climax and fuck your brains out while you were all sensitive and drenched and squirming, but he needed this, and boy if he was ready to make it up to you after.

With a few more thrusts, giving you a quick warning, and a garnish of your name coupled with a colourful assortment of swear words, Chris finally came. His cum quickly pooled on the valley created by your thighs and your core, soaking your underwear, a bit even landed on your lower belly, and truly, you were always beautiful, every day, in every way, but especially so when you were covered in his cum.

“Shit, look at that, huh…” Chris felt lightheaded, but that didn’t stop him from reaching out to your lower belly, spreading his cum around with two of his fingers, only to finally bring them to your mouth, and, just like you always did, your lips wrapped around his digits, licking them clean with a satisfied moan. “Like eating my cum, pretty baby? Looks like you do, you’re sucking so eagerly, hm?”

You nodded, finally opening your eyes and letting his fingers pop out of your mouth. “Love it. How could I not? When you always have so much for me?”

Chris couldn’t help but chuckle, ignoring the heat he felt spread on his face. “All for you, love… All of it. All of me”.

You chuckled, regarding him with a smile. “How’re we gonna get out of this one without staining the sofa?”

“Take off that t-shirt, let’s use that”.

After wiping you off with his tee, Chris pulled you into his lap, bringing you close to him with one hand caressing your thigh and the other cradling the back of your head, just as you settled your legs at either side of him and your hands on his chest. You kissed like this for a bit, until your lips wandered off, pressing a trail of kisses from his mouth to his neck.

When you pulled back from his neck, you looked at him with such adoring eyes Chris thought he was going to melt right then and there. “You really like my thighs, huh?” You looked down, to where he was tightly holding onto the supple flesh of your thigh, and Chris really couldn’t help the bashful smile that came to his face when you called him out on it.

“Just fucked them and came all over them, baby. Can’t hide it, I’m fucking obsessed with them”.

You just chuckled, pressing your bare chest as much as you could against his to hug him close, just as you placed a brief kiss to his lips. “I meant it earlier, babe. You can fuck them whenever you want. I like it when you do. It’s really hot”.

“Oh, pretty, love… I fucking will. Shit, how couldn’t I…” Inhaling deeply, Chris kissed you, maybe a bit too hard, a bit too eager, but he still revelled in your soft moans as he did.

Linking his arms under your ass to keep you secure in place, he stood up from the sofa, earning a surprised squeal from your lips that got lost in his mouth. He simply laid down on the sofa with you on top of him, giving you a tight squeeze on one of your buttcheeks. 

“Now, pretty baby…” He spoke between kisses, just as his hands roamed your body, squishing and kneading your soft flesh all over. “I need you to sit on my face. Want to make you feel good”.

You simply giggled in response, giving him one quick, loud kiss. “Someone’s hungry today”.

“For you? Always”, Chris chuckled. “Then, if you can still walk after, we can go stargazing tonight”, he added with a smile and a playful smack on your ass.

Chris was determined to show you just how hungry for you he was time and time again if necessary. How could he not be hungry for you? He’d realised that, for him, you embodied the very essentials of his pack. You embodied those things he so desperately wanted to have in his pack since he had decided to start one. Care, love, support, acceptance… 

Whether it be his and his friends’ lycanthropy or his kinks or his odd spending habits, you seemed to accept it all as part of him. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He shouldn’t doubt it. After all, you were made for him, all for him, perfect just for him, and he was ready to enjoy it, to enjoy you and your company for as long as you’d let him.

Author’s Note x2: while i was writing this, i took some time to re-read It’s Cold Out again after a long time and holy shit. i hadn’t fully realised how much my writing has changed since then. to the point where to me it doesn’t feel like ICO was written by me anymore. it’s crazy lol. i’m happy i’ve gotten to expand on this AU, and i’m even happier that i get to share it with you all. if you’re reading this, thank you, you’re awesome

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @straylightdream @carefully325 @lavenderxkies @starshine-moon @biribarabiribbaem @meowmeowhoon @100layersofdaddyissues @dearalice @alexis-reads-fics @xcookiemonsteer @knowleeknow @chanlovesme @liminaldaydream @sstarryreads @svngiem @notastraykid @princelingperfect

If you want to be removed from the list (or if i tagged you incorrectly) just PM me to let me know and i'll remove you. If you want to be added fill in this form~

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

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

[technicallyfriendly]

I promised a while ago I would make a fanfiction rec list for lucemond, so here we go:

Star-crossed by DominaReginald

I have to say this is my all-time favourite lucemond fic. If you like the Lucerys-gets-kidnapped-instead-of-eaten-at-Storm's-End-trope, then this one is already worth a read, but what I love about this story is that it shows how the conflict really impacts lucemond's relationship, which is the focus of the plot. Much happens, of course, but the story focuses on how the war and Aemond's subsequent participation in it impacts his relationship with Lucerys. It's also very interesting how this story handles the marriage pact with the Baratheons. But really, a short summary will not do this master piece justice, so I urge you to go and read it yourself! For anyone who is hesitant due to the major character death warning: It's not the main couple, though the deaths occurring are tragic and happen to beloved characters.

the beast you've made of me by MotherMaidenCrone

I don't think anyone has walked past this amazing and beautiful fic in this fandom, but it still deserves its mention on this list as well. No other story has ever done a Team Neutral approach this well and nuanced. If you wanna see Lucerys girilboss his way through King's Landing politics and beat everyone at the Game of Thrones in a desperate bid to save his family from self-destruction, this is for you!

the tragic evolution of desire by toraophim

So I debated long and hard before I added this on because, boy, does this one make you feel stuff, and a lot of it is not great. It's an amazingly written story, and since I enjoy dark themes, I did like it a lot. Though, and this is important, the warnings are there for a reason, this dove is deader than dead. Also, none of the characters are having a good time here aside from Aegon for a time, which is why you should not read this if you are an Aegon stan. The author really turned him into a monster. If you are like me and enjoy an emotional rollercoaster with a somewhat happy ending, I say proceed with caution ;).

Set fire to the rain by baby345

This is a collection of a few short stories about lucemond. I really enjoy the writing and its variety!

Blood for Blood by GoddessofRoyalty

The way the author puts it in the summary is actually the best way to describe this fic: Aemond is not cruel, but he is also not kind (and Lucerys has both none of and all the power). And that is also how I like their dynamic. The story is told in snippets of their life together before and after the marriage, and the writing is really enjoyable!

all I had to give by monkkeyslut

This one starts out as one-sided love despite Aemond trying really hard, in his own way of course, but it's not just about their relationship but also about dealing with the aftermath of the war and the current unstable position of Lucerys due to the continued absence of an heir. This fanfiction is not only well written and a great ride, but the author also has an interesting take on Alys before we got even got introduced to her in HotD.

Office Lucemond by Avonne

This is a collection of ModernAU!Lucemond fanfiction about lucemond matching each other's freak told through the eyes of their stunned and slightly terrified coworkers and through the eyes of a very unimpressed Vharga.

Borros and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by lucerysinthesky

This is the funniest lucemond fanfiction I've ever read, which is why it gets a place on this list despite being tragically unfinished, but I have not given up hope quite yet! Maybe one day we'll get the last chapter. Still even unfinished, it is awesome, and it'll make you cry laughing, I promise. The title says it all already, and Borro's does suffer a lot while also having a full character arc and all while trying unsuccessfully not to die.

For now, I'll finish this rec list here, but there are still many more great stories out there that I haven't mentioned. Maybe I'll update it in the future or make another one for the once that I did not include here. For the ones reading this, I wish you a lot of fun reading the stories!

[aalinaaaaaa]

2024 In a Gift Box

Hey, everyone, greetings after another year that has flown by all too quickly! Featuring new friends, a few awards and 400% more holidays (rip my wallet lol), this has been a wild year for me. And that's only half of it.

For some strange reason, my desire to write increases with the hecticness of my life. Much of Obsidian Sapphires' revival/troubleshooting phase occured during the latter part of the year, from October onwards (though I had been tinkering with its plot for some time now). All because I woke up one morning with the solution to a plot hole appearing in my head.

Anyway, preambles aside, here's a few major highlights from my year (in writing terms):

First up, thanks to @druidx for the Year in Review Tag! The premise of the tag is to post one's favourite five or so pieces that they've written throughout the year.

To be truthful, some of Obsidian Sapphires' scenes would make this list only the respective chapters for them aren't completed yet 😅

A Pawn for a Greater Cause — I had a ball writing the starting dialogue, and the prompt gave me a few revelations regarding Petrius' character.

Regrets — This made me cry at 1am, the catharsis was unreal.

To Perpetuate Life — Amazing how almost falling asleep gives me ideas. This piece helped me answer a few questions about Orlaith's backstory, and also gave me extra questions surrounding the lore.

Blue Moon — This feels like a nice deviation from my usual style, it's more dreamy and whimsical. Also, this reminds me to go and work on its second part, lol (because the scope was too big for one piece)

That angsty pining scene — This is not posted as one scene, but rather in splinters because parts of it are dripping in spoilers for Obsidian Sapphires. However, I enjoyed writing this scene too much not to post some snippets.

WIP Roundup

First things first, an ode to the WIPs that I've put on ice to focus on Obsidian Sapphires.

The Lady's Lament, a brief idea born out of a plot bunny inspired by a plot on Wattpad. The idea sprouted in April 2023, but it lives on in the form of worldbuilding ideas for South Arobyre.

And then also, Flamebearer, one of my oldest wips but also arguably my most complex one. It's a story of grief, religious dilemmas and romantic/familial drama, all under the backdrop of sociopolitical turmoil. It's going to take a lot of research and planning, that much I know. Hence why I want it to be as perfect as I can make it, when I have the knowledge and writing practice to do it justice.

In April this year, one of my Flash Friday pieces (Duel to the Debt) sowed the seeds for another piece (An Endless Round) in May, and later on Soulswapped derived from it. I intended it to be a short enough story, a novella of sorts that would be woven into a larger compilation, but it's become its own thing. Already, I think it may get a sequel. But I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

Obsidian Sapphires

So its progress this year has been skewed. Like, 'a lot of its progress spawned in October or thereafter' sort of skewed. I woke up one morning and the cogs for the rigmarole surrounding what is currently Chapter 2 all clicked, to the point I yanked out my laptop and starting writing notes until I had to run for class.

Since then, I've had a bunch of ideas, but currently I'm deliberating on the story I wish to tell. It seems more cohesive and easier to plan for when I cut Eshani's perspective out, but at the same time, cutting her perspective would cut or at least hide much of her character development. That and I love her to bits, and she may/may not be a readers' favourite also.

In terms of actual tangible content, bits of the angsty pining scene got posted, as did sections of the first and second chapters. It even came with a few memes, lolololol. (And there's more memes sitting in my gallery/Scrivener notes, this story's quite memeable honestly).

The antagonists got their time of day, however brief so far. And not just the lead meshai, but also the septet of folks angry at the meshai and his fellows.

And this gets onto something that has existed as tags and headings and brief little mentions. A collection of pieces, leading up to answers surrounding some major events in the history of the country Obsidian Sapphires is set in.

That would be This Blood-Stained Charcuterie. It is going to be the anthology of short stories and one-off pieces surrounding Morilast's High Councillors (and indeed, the Court's other denizens and its namesake himself!). A lot of juicy details surrounding certain characters' backstories are going to feature here, I can't wait to get into it. (It's also my excuse to figure out all the bits of lore and convoluted ancestries [who murdered who], lol).

When I finish with Obsidian Sapphires, that is about when I'll start releasing this one. The title could change upon me getting to the end, but we'll see.

Flash Fiction Friday

I started doing these pieces in late 2023, so it's been about a year since my first one (Contemplations). In all, I've completed a total of 28 pieces so far :D

The masterlist came about in early January, because I was inspired by other people who had masterlists for their pieces. It's very satisfying to see it develop from a few pieces to what it is today, a decent few pieces.

Whatsmore, it reflects the trends in my writing, such as the wips that the prompts inspired me for, and what periods I was consistently doing it week-by-week and when the major gaps were.

For whatever reason, I have a tendency of getting inspiration for these at about midnight or so. Even if I get a handful of basic notes written down, it may not still be until late in the night that I can get a piece together, lol.

To commemorate the end of the year, I've started a series known as Flash Friday Flashbacks to celebrate what I've made and show off behind-the-scenes when it comes to notes, context, deleted scenes, etc.

There are a few pieces left in this year's version, which will be reblogged close to the end of the month (to celebrate the New Year).

Next year's edition is going to feature the December 2024 pieces in addition to all the 2025 stuff (which hopefully is a lot). There will also be a 2025-specific masterlist too.

Writeblr Community Events

What is writeblr without its community? It's beyond a pleasure to be part of a group so lovely and talented, everyone has something amazing going for them.

As part of this, there are some people here who create events, discords and/or other initiatives that bring people together. Shoutout to everyone who has done/is doing something along these lines ❤️

Special mentions in my case go to:

@flashfictionfridayofficial for taking the prompt submissions, making the posts, and reblogging everyone's stories (with fantastic comments) every week

@writeblrsummerfest for making a lovely event spanning the entirety of August, encompassed by a well-organised theme and all

@bardic-tales for establishing the @creators-club and doing all the various types of ask/tag games to foster interaction and support

@agirlandherquill for her first ever Writemas! These prompts are impeccable and it was really fun looking forward to the next day's prompts! I wish I could've participated more, but alas, that's how the cookie crumbles. (Also, high five, we're in the same timezone, woo!)

Plans for 2025

Continue with Obsidian Sapphires — I'd love to get the draft finished

Doing as many of the Flash Friday prompts as well

Reblogging people's posts more and hopefully improving at reaching out to people

Learning to draw is something that I've always wanted to do, but I want to get focused with it this year. It would be cool to put my characters in visual form

Getting a handle on the lore and background information needed to compile This Blood-Stained Charcuterie

The Tags

That brings this post to its natural course, the end. Merry Christmas everyone ❤️🎄

Giving a Year in Review Tag to everyone who is on at least one of my taglists (ask, comment, etc to be added/subtracted): @mr-orion @the-ellia-west @guessillcallitart @thereadingfoz @glassstardust22124 @original-writing @honeybewrites @ashirisu @drowsy-quill @oliolioxenfreewrites @theglitchywriterboi @seastarblue @gioiaalbanoart @rae-butter @corinneglass @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @outpost51 @mundanemoongirl @scarletteflamerald @ceph-the-ghost-writer @flock-from-the-void @mattresses-and-macaroni @limitlesswritingvoid

...As well as all these people I'm tagging here: @winterandwords @finickyfelix @wintherlywords @anyablackwood @cherrybombfangirlwrites @kaylinalexanderbooks @angelfevr @thatndginger @thepeculiarbird @ominous-feychild @oh-no-another-idea @space-writes @veneritia @the-golden-comet @jev-urisk @cljordan-imperium @an-indecisive-nerd @mauannacreates @laureleavess @theeccentricraven @paintedbutton (@/bardic-tales, @/agirlandherquill, both of you are tagged for this too)

...And most importantly, here's a tag for everyone in the audience!

Here's to a hopeful 2025! 🎉

[draco-dormiens]

FOR ALL THAT IS RIGHT AND JUST MASTERLIST

draco x fem!auror!slytherin reader postwar au series

BLURB:

Since the Second Wizarding War ended, an unusual peace had blessed the wizarding world for ten years. In the January of 2007, after many years as an Auror, Harry Potter became Head of the Auror Office. Unfortunately for him, the peace the world had come to know would soon be turned upside down, throwing himself and his colleagues into a state of mania.

Y/N Y/L/N and Draco Malfoy are amongst the Auror’s that fall under Harry’s supervision. Friends since their childhood, they have battled the challenges of adolescence and fought in a war that their families were at the centre of. Throughout the years, mutual pining and reciprocated feelings get shoved aside due to their solid friendship and mutual understanding that neither of them want to lose, and the fact that they work in close proximity to one another each day as fellow Auror’s.

When a new threat starts to rear its ugly head, both the Ministry and the wizarding world are thrown into utter chaos. Can Y/N and Draco help Harry to bring peace once and for all? Will mixed feelings and high emotions become the downfall of their lifelong friendship along the way?

CHAPTERS:

chapter one: ministry mayhem

flash back: draco’s story

chapter two: suspicious wizard on the hogwarts express

chapter three: memorial in the great hall

chapter four: a not so sweet surprise

chapter five: sweet memory lane

tbc

disclaimer: i do not own harry potter or any of the characters or storyline associated with it.

warnings: reader and draco are both 27, blood, injury, fighting, drama, strong language, sexual themes, mutual pining, slow burn (i'm sorry)

status: ongoing

a/n: this list my change over time, due to me changing my mind on chapter titles and warnings and such. i'm currently in the process of writing this and would like to get quite a few chapters done before i start posting - save you guys waiting for an update. i hope you enjoy it x

wizards unite: some characters from the storyline of ‘wizards unite’ appear in this fic as its timeline relevant. however, i never played the game before it was cancelled, so have no idea who they actually are. i’ve done my research, and there is very little online about these characters appearances, but a bit about their personalities, apart from a couple of them. so, the description of their appearances are like a little headcannon of mine. just so you have a face to the name :)

[spiritforestwrit]

didn’t want to start mist discourse but i’m mad. i think this fandom has a rather glaring issue about how they treat female characters in general. so anyways a rant towards a few certain anons who have decided hating on mist is the new hot thing!

Mist Is A Good Character, Actually: Why This Fandom Needs to Treat Female Characters Better

(she likes to pick apples! good for her! …or are those tomatoes?)

i can tell that one of those anons never played the tellius duology simply because in a cutscene in the PROLOGUE mist is literally playing in a field of flowers??? the cutscene with the famous “ ‘bout time!” line from the questionable english dub??? established right off the bat is that she enjoys nature, confirmed by her official art above showing her with a basket of apples! listen i hate being a gatekeeper, the tellius games aren’t the easiest to emulate and physical copies are pricey, but come on. you can’t be sending anon hate when you barely know the characters. i’ve also seen someone talk about how her only trait is being ike’s sister??? what??? okay listen to me for a second. their mom is dead at the start of path of radiance. greil is still alive at this point. mists behaviour is a bit different from how she is in later chapters and in radiant dawn at this point, such as poking fun at ike and boyd. however, once greil dies, she breaks down, and is a lot more attached to ike from then on. she literally follows him into the final black knight fight in path of radiance. SOREN of all people stayed out of it and lord knows he’s with ike all the time. so don’t come at me with this “she’s just ike’s sister 🤓” stuff, she’s scared to lose him after losing both parents before she’s even an adult, because when greil went off to fight by himself, he died!

you also can’t just dictate whether or not a character is good because of a tiny list of what they like. that’s not how it works. mist is not a “mini housewife”, she is a fifteen year old who lost her mother at a young age and is one of two girls in the Greil Mercenaries before Mia joins - it’s pretty clear, to me at least, that that’s probably affected her and who she is as a character. the duality of a fifteen year old girl who enjoys playing in flower fields and teases her brother, but is also one of two girls in a male-dominated mercenary group, stuck doing most of the chores because aside from oscar being a cook, i can’t see people like boyd or gatrie coming in to help with the domestic stuff like sewing!

i would also like to add that i do agree that fire emblem is weird about character ages, but listen. stop getting mad about how she should’ve been ten years old or whatever. that’s not helpful when looking at a character from an analytical angle. use it to ask WHY the creators chose to design her that way or why she acts childish at times. my english teacher once said to us, nothing is by accident in a short story. the author has limited space to tell their story, so everything serves a purpose. why is this relevant? the same philosophy holds here, in my opinion. fire emblem is a series that has a huge cast of characters that all have to share that limited amount of screen time. when taking a look at someone’s character, you can’t just immediately write something off as the designers being silly. so why is mists age 15 when she looks and acts in such a way? to me, the designers wanted to show how she didn’t get the chance to grow up like most girls, raised in a place where she had to learn to take care of herself pretty fast, and she’s trying to hold on to what she has left of her childhood - when she had the time to focus on hobbies aside from domestic ones. this isn’t a knock on greil or titania or the other mercenaries, though; it’s just the nature of having to leave their base quite often, and i think mist had to find comfort in the small things that started off as chores, hence why they’re in her list of liked things.

this whole mist debacle has kinda exposed something within the fire emblem fandom that isn’t talked about much. yes this was only two anons who came after her, but it’s something i find prevalent with other female characters like deirdre. a lot of people don’t take the time to look into female characters and who they are, and write them off as being boring and having no personality. and i don’t think the guys of fire emblem get that same treatment at all. the fact that SHE was singled out in a cast of over 70 playable characters by radiant dawn is just nuts to me. “dragging down tellius”. the same games with a character who’s been called out for being a racist stereotype. and it just makes me angry that this kind of treatment of the girls of fire emblem goes unchecked a lot of the time. hyping up Lyn or whoever is generally perceived as a “good character” doesn’t mean you’re automatically exempt from contributing to fandom misogyny. and the reason i say this is because a lot of these fans don’t really care about taking a deeper look into the women. it’s a surface level glance at them. there’s a reason why micaiah used to be called a mary-sue. they just assume that they won’t be as “well-written” compared to the men. if you want to combat fandom misogyny, you have to uplift all women in the cast, and that includes women you think are uninteresting or bland, because there’s some really interesting stories being told that have been ignored. again taking the tellius fandom as an example: there are so many amazing female characters in the duology, like there’s Jill of course but they genuinely did a great job with so many of the women. lethe, elincia, micaiah, titania, almedha, ena, to name a few. and while yes, they’re generally regarded as good characters, they don’t get the same amount of love the others do - there’s hardly anyone digging into them and their motivations. and it’s criminal.

in conclusion, do better. mist isn’t a bad character. fandom misogyny runs deep, and the only way to fight it is to start appreciating the women of the series as characters, and to give them the same in-depth analyses the men get.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Here's The Way I Feel

Characters: Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Spencer has been harboring a crush on his workmate for quite a while now, but after a case where he has to take her on multiple dates, and with the help of Derek Morgan, he can’t help but spill his secret.

Word Count: 2088 words

Prompt: Fluff. Fake dating. Falling asleep on them. Drunk confession.

A/N: @intense-socks (who has an excellent name btw) requested this little bit of fluffy Spencer for my latest follower milestone celebration, so, I hope you enjoy this one. If you do, then please reblog it.

There were definitely worse ways to spend an evening than sitting in a restaurant with your favourite co-worker. True, you were technically working, but aside from the occasional voice in your earpiece, you could easily forget that was the case. This was the third restaurant you had been to in as many days, and Hotch had certainly kept the best for last. The plush surroundings, the fancy menu with far too many fancy words to be understood by a mere mortal, the soft candlelight that created a distinctly romantic air, definitely the perfect hunting ground for your latest unsub.

Spencer was focusing on the menu, his fingers tapping lightly on the table as his right leg bounced beneath it. He tried to curtail his nervous energy, but being in this situation with you was such sweet torture. The past few days he had got to play out his daydreams of what it might be like if the two of you were actually together. He got to hold your hand, make you laugh, share stories and hold you close in ways he knew he shouldn’t want to. Each date had felt like a first. He agonized over what to wear, what to order, how far to compliment you. The complicated algebra of attraction was constantly running through his mind, trying, and failing, to prevent himself from falling for you more than he already had.

“Hey, Spence, you okay?” Your fingers grazed his and he had to suppress a shiver at your touch.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I was just wondering if it will be tonight.” He reached for his glass of wine with his other hand, not wanting to break contact with you if he could help it.

“Well, if you’re a very good boy, I’d say there is more than a chance tonight will be the night.” You smirked as he almost choked on his drink, eliciting laughter from you.

“Ooooh, pretty boy’s on a promise.” Morgan chuckled through the comms.

“Settle down.” Hotch’s voice sounded tired and it reminded you both why you were there. You were bait.

“How about you don’t focus on what may or may not happen later, just stay here in this moment with me? It’ll be more convincing.” You turned your hand, interlacing your fingers with his.

Convincing. That was the real problem here. It was easy for Spencer to convince people he was hopelessly in love with you, because it was true. The sticking point was that you were also incredibly convincing, and he knew it was an act. The soft smiles, the way your eyes lingered on his lips as he spoke, the light touch of your fingertips gliding over his skin, it was all a calculated act to make the unsub believe the two of you were a happy couple. An unsub who hated happy couples and had been torturing and killing them for the past few weeks.

Spencer pushed the unsub to the back of his mind, instead concentrating on each and every detail of you, committing it to his brilliant memory. The slight tilt of your head, the gentle curve of your lips, the melodic tone of your voice, the warmth of your hand in his. If he really concentrated, really stayed in this moment, he could almost fool himself into believing this was real.

Evidently, Spencer wasn’t the only one, because not two hours later you were arresting the unsub after he had abducted the two of you, leaving you both with a few cuts and bruises.

Back on the jet, and Spencer was lost in his thoughts. It wasn’t fair. He had now had a taste of how things could have been, how you could have looked at him if he was the type of guy who you would want.

“Mind if I sit here? They are just a little loud over there and I need a bit of peace.” You gave him a nervous smile, and Spencer moved his bag from the seat next to him so you could sit. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gave you a soft smile then forced himself to stare at the open book in his hand, trying to ignore the way his whole body tingled whenever you accidentally brushed your arm or leg against his. Spencer was so deep in sculpting his denial that he failed to realise your head was resting against his shoulder. It wasn’t until he caught a soft snuffling snore that he looked over to find you fast asleep, curled up against him as if that was exactly where you belonged.

This was the first time you had ever fallen asleep on him, and he couldn’t help wonder if it was due to exhaustion or if this case had maybe bonded you more than he realised. Any one of the team could have looked over at the two of you and seen the total adoration in Spencer’s gaze as he watched you sleep, taking care with his movements to ensure he didn’t wake you. He had no idea if this moment would ever be repeated, so he soaked it in, desperately hoping it wouldn’t be, yet not brave enough to ask you for more.

It had been a long case, and it was very obvious after the flight that Spencer needed a little cheering up, after all, his little fantasy relationship had come to an end, so Derek suggested a beer. One beer turned into quite a few, along with whiskey chasers and then some shots which were colours that Spencer felt no drink should ever be. Although Spencer was not the most tolerant of alcohol, Morgan was also the wrong side of merry, which meant the blind was leading the blind as they ordered another round.

“You should tell her, man.” Morgan said for the millionth time that night, his hand coming to rest on Spencer’s shoulder a little heavier than he intended.

“Oh, yeah, that is a terrible idea. I should definitely not do that.” Spencer shook his head emphatically, almost knocking over his drink.

“You should. You should call right now and tell her. Then, if she laughs, which I know for a fact she won’t, you can just say you were very drunk.” The fact that Morgan was slurring his words right now should have alerted Reid as to how floored that logic was, but with both of them in a drunken haze it appeared to be a sound argument.

“Right now? I should call right now? It’s like… I don’t even know what time it is. What time is it?” He asked rather loudly, only to get a chorus of varying times around the 2am mark.

“Go on Pretty Boy! Call the girl.” Morgan took Reid’s phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found yours, smirking when he saw the little love hearts after your name. The poor boy had it bad. “It’s ringing.” He stated, handing over the phone to a clearly flustered Spencer.

“Voicemail.” Spencer frowned, closing his eyes and basking in your voice until a harsh tone indicated it was his turn to speak. And speak he did.

When you woke, the light on your answer machine was flashing and you pressed play as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink. It was unusual that you hadn’t been woken by the phone ringing, you must have been in a really deep sleep. As soon as Spencer’s slightly slurred voice rang out through your apartment, you raced back to the machine, now wide awake.

“Hi. It’s me. It’s Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m leaving you a message on your voicemail because you haven’t picked up. Your message is funny though, and you sound really pretty. You always sound pretty. Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to say. I have something to say, and so I am going to say it, because it needs to be said. I like you. Even when I try not to, I can’t help it, I just like you. Not that I have tried actively not liking you at all, just not like liking you. The truth of it is, I just like you. I feel like I’ve said like too many times now and I am not being clear. You just make me smile and happy and warm and nervous and, well, most of the time, I like you. I like being with you and I like listening to you and I like holding your hand and I like you. No. Like isn’t the word. I love you. I worship you. I am enamored with you. I am infatuated with you. You make me want to recite poetry but when you’re right there I get stupid and the words, the words they, they aren’t in my brain so they won’t come out right and I, I just needed to say that you are all the good words and, oh shit…”

The message cut off and you just stood blinking at the machine, not quite sure what the hell had just happened. It was entirely possible that the man you had been crushing on for the past year had just confessed he felt the same, or it might have been the ramblings of a drunk. There was only one way to find out.

Walking into the bullpen, it was incredibly obvious that Reid and Morgan were a little worse for wear.

“I can’t believe you didn’t invite me!” Penelope was pouting at Morgan, who was wearing sunglasses and clutching a large coffee.

“Baby girl, I’m gonna need you to take the volume down a little.” He mumbled, the scene causing you to smirk as you tossed your bag down by your desk.

“Boys night out? You know, you really should take Rossi with you on those, he’d keep you out of trouble.”

“Do you even know Rossi? He would get us into more trouble, then he would casually walk away and leave us there to deal with it.” Morgan groaned into his mug.

“Since when were you such a lightweight? I thought that was Reid.” You chuckled, moving to lean against Spencer’s desk.

“There were shots.” Spence croaked, his eyes still shut.

“Do you not like shots? I thought you might like them. I mean, you know, not like them like them, but just kinda like?” The furrow of Spencer’s brow caused your smile to grow as you saw him trying to figure out what you had just said. With his face scrunched, he opened his eyes and looked up at you.

“I have decided that I do not like shots.”

“Oh, so you’re not enamored with them? You aren’t infatuated with them?” You asked innocently, nudging the cup of coffee on his desk closer to Spencer’s hand. Your words had caught Morgan’s attention, and something sparked in his memory.

“Oh, shit. Pretty boy, voicemail.” A mixture of amusement and concern played on Morgans face as he tried to read the situation through the haze of his hangover.

“Voicemail?” Spencer was thoroughly lost in this conversation and, as usually the smartest person in the room, he really did not like it.

“You called someone last night, before you fell off the bar stool-“

“That’s why it cut off so suddenly! I was wondering about that.”

“I called you?” Spencer got to his feet so quickly his chair span as fast as the room was spinning in his head.

“Woah there.” You placed your hands on his biceps to steady him, wondering if you needed to grab the trashcan for him to throw up.

“I called you?” He asked again, panicked mortification in his tone and written all over his face.

“You did. It was actually a really nice thing to wake up to. I do have some questions though.”

“Questions?” Spencer was mentally kicking himself for not being able to form complete sentences, but the hangover combined with you still touching him, had drained his IQ immeasurably.

“Maybe you need to listen to the message, then you can answer. How about you come round to mine after work and we can grab something to eat, maybe have a Doctor Who marathon? Only if you feel up to it though.”

“Yes!” Spencer said far quicker and louder than he intended, wincing a little with embarrassment.

“Good. We’ll talk more about how you worship me then.” You winked and headed off to make a drink, chuckling to yourself as you heard Morgan teasing Spencer playfully.

[animalsalvationassociation]

A.S.A. Octonauts Headcanons:

Pt. 3 — Kwazii:

What we know . . .

Kwazii’s real last name is Navarro and before he found out (they managed to find his birth certificate lol) he put "Gilbert" on his military ID.

Ofc in the government’s eyes that’s kind of a problem, but through Dashi’s wizardly tech skills, they were able to fix it without any issues. Let’s be honest Kwazii is a special case.

(I didn’t know that Calico Jack was a real person or that CJ was based off of him. I figured it was just the name the creators chose for the character)

Navarro was his father’s surname (oh wowww how convenient and not at all last minute planning to make things fit)

Kwazii’s mother is Calico Jack’s daughter

Kwazii is still trying to figure out what happened to his parents and remaining family as they all disappeared around the time CJ went to the Amazon. (He was an infant at the time)

Kwazii served with Captain Barnacles on “ The Adelaide ”, a navy vessel that they sailed on for 3 years before Kwazii and Barnacles were promoted to Captain of the Octonauts.

Kwazii and Emma have been going steady for a few years now.

Kwazii’s favorite food is his grandfather’s “Pirate Stew” (It’s still a mystery why)

Fav Color is Green~

Kwazii doesn’t actually need the eyepatch (which is hilarious to me).

Boot Biscuits

Cannot surf to save his life. Literally.

Fav Gup?? Do I have to even answer that???

It's the Gup-R . . .

I JOKE!!!! I JOKE!!!!

At least once a week Kwazii locks himself up in his room and dresses up like a certain pirate captain, he then spends several hours role-playing grand adventures while making a mess inside his room. (Yes he has preformed in front of Emma before, she thinks it’s adorable — Sometimes she joins in on the fun 😉 He’s started collecting costumes for her because she enjoys it so much)

Consumes anything with the word “Pirate” in front of it. He’s actually become pretty reliable when it comes to media because he knows so much.

Actually pretty clumsy

Peso: “If you have to go to the Medical Bay ONE MORE TIME—!”

Tominnow and Tunip hang out with him the most. The others pop in every now and then but you’ll at least see Tominnow by his side.

In true Kwazii fashion.

. . . . . . . . . . . . thank you.

(Lol I forgot what I was gonna say but I think we can all agree)

Kwazii has learned to enjoy girls nights. He made the mistake of accidentally walking in on one and has been “dragged” to every girls night ever since. (Blame Tweak and her need for revenge — *cough, cough* Gup B *cough*)

Kwazii has an exceptionally gentle heart, sometimes it’s hard to see it past the . . . ahem . . . “no thoughts only soup” and "impulsiveness" . . . but when it comes down to it he cares so much for other people/creatures that sometimes he gets swept up and actually forgets about himself. I know, shocking. (I blame Barnacles)

Kwazii tries to put up a front but sometimes he lets slip how lonely he actually feels.

He and Barnacles have a very tight knit relationship, but runner up of “Best Friend” is definitely Peso.

(I remembered what I was going to say earlier)

Kwazii loves spooky stories, mostly because it makes other people squirm (aside from Barnacles, that man is a rock). But Kwazii is quite the scaredy cat (pun intended) himself, not just with spiders n’ stuff.

He tends to get so caught up in those stories that he has a hard time sleeping at night, especially because of how dark the ocean gets at night. I mean he’s got a massive window right next to him, I’d be terrified too if something big popped up without warning.

(It helps when Emma comes over for a visit. Their sleep schedules are kind of off depending on the season so sometimes he asks her to keep a watch while he rests. Ofc she’s more than happy to keep watch and “beat up” any monsters that appear.)

Kwazii has a hard time separating reality and his own imagination, he fully believes those monster stories, or at least most of them. Some are a little crazy even for him. But it’s fun to tease Peso.

Kwazii & Emma’s Relationship:

(Optional reading ahead, this is for anyone who’s interested/curious about their relationship)

Like I said, Emma and Kwazii have been going steady for a few years now. They’ve actually done pretty well despite the distance.

Not to mention they’re quite the well balanced couple. Kwazii being the rambunctious “bouncing off the walls” kind of guy, while Emma is pretty chill and level headed. But I’m not saying they don’t have their moments where they completely switch personalities depending on what’s going on.

Gives “Tall Girl, Smol Boy” vibes.

“I have to find my darling husband, I’m so worried about him!”, “Honestly what do you see in that guy?” , “He makes me laugh.” [ Who Framed Rodger Rabbit? 1988 ]

They met around the time Kwazii was appointed to Sergeant of the Adelaide. He was only nineteen at the time while she just turned twenty.

The reason he became Sergeant so quickly was because of a recommendation by Barnacles. And because of that Kwazii ended up advancing much faster than others in their field. I think Barnacles saw something in him that not many other soldiers had at the time. Of course it wasn’t the highest title he could’ve achieved but it was an honor nonetheless, especially because Barnacles insisted on keeping Kwazii close. He was still so young and without anyone to look up to familial-wise, I think Barnacles had a soft spot for him.

Kwazii and Emma really only started dating after the Octonauts were given a second wind, they reconnected through Barnacles and the A.S.A. and just hit it off. They’ve been long distance ever since.

Of course Emma and Kwazii visit each other every now and then, more than most other long distance couples. You can thank Professor Kelp and Barnacles for that.

In a way they’ve become apart of one another’s teams. In the sense that whenever Kwazii visits the S.S.Jade or Emma visits the Octonauts, it’s as if they’re apart of the family.

He won’t admit it because he doesn’t want to freak her out/scare her off, but Kwazii has always wanted to settle down with Emma. Which sounds crazy I know, but stay with me here.

Both of their jobs are very important and equally dangerous, making it hard to keep in contact sometimes. I think Kwazii is afraid that one day he’ll wake up and find out that Emma has gone missing or worse.

Just like Kwazii, Emma is a thrill seeker. Problem is, Emma pushes herself way more than Kwazii ever has or will. She’s very protective of her team and those that are in her care, and she tends to completely override her own needs for other’s.

Every day Emma is at battle with thugs, gangs, and international villains. Putting herself in more danger than is really necessary. And a lot of times she forgets that there’s more to life than putting away the bad guy.

But the way Kwazii thinks of settling down is completely different to how Emma sees it. They’re both travelers by nature and Emma sees settling as a way of tying herself down to one singular place and never moving again. And just the thought of it makes her anxious, so she tends to avoid the conversation whenever Kwazii tries to bring it up.

But Kwazii sees it more as having a place to themselves whenever they need it, going off to do their jobs but being able to come back and live away from everything for a little while before returning to their duties. He doesn’t expect them to ever stay in one place, but he wants to at least have a commitment to where their relationship is headed.

Unfortunately over the last few months Emma has been distancing herself from him. Just like Kwazii she doesn’t want to loose him or see him get hurt, but her version of this is keeping him at arms length, not too far but not close either.

Doesn’t sound the most healthy way to continue a relationship does it? ;)

The Rackham/Navarro Family:

Captain John "Calico Jack" Rackham (Grandfather), Anne Bonny (Grandmother???), Salem Navarro (Father), Madelynn / Maddie Rackham (Mother) Kwazii, Mary Read (Auntie)

Notes:

Keep in mind Kwazii doesn't know anything about his family. All he knows is what CJ has told him, and most of that information is sparse. I don't see myself adding to his lore for a very long time. Not until I know exactly how I want to do it. For now here is all the information you need to know about Kwazii.

Eventually I will create a headcanon for Kwazii's upbringing, but until then please enjoy this iteration.

Other Headcanons . . .

Captain Barnacles ( 1 & 2 / Peso / Dashi / Tweak / Shellington / Inkling / The Vegimals

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

[autumnmobile12]

The Sekoto Peak Tournament

It’s kinda funny how My Hero Academia is pretty much told through the lens of Midoriya’s perspective to the point where all other professions that have a fan following:  athletes, actors, singers, etc. just go completely by the wayside.  Just once, it would have been great to have Kirishima or someone mention a household name and Midoriya’s all, “…..?”

“Y’know, [insert name here?]  Legendary boxing champion?”

My point is, other professions outside of hero still exist and are probably just as popular as they’ve always been, so here’s the ‘Young Rei used to snowboard competitively’ headcanon.  This started as a piece I did for Inktober with a, ‘Rei’s a refridgerated character.  Don’t love that,’ attitude.   Because aside from finally making an attempt to fight for her family (a little late, sure, but I’m not here to do a character analysis right now,) Rei doesn’t have much characterization beyond being the victimized mother in Shouto’s story.

So two things to consider:

1.) Snowboarding is a high-intensity activity.  High intensity activities are known to reduce stress, anxiety and depression.  So Rei having this career before marriage (and possibly a little after) would have had a very positive impact on her mental health.  But after having four children, something this intense would be difficult to restart and being in her late twenties when Natsuo and Shouto were born, her professional career would have been effectively over.  Being cut off from snowboarding and its mental health benefits would have definitely contributed to her downward spiral in a more significant way than if she had never done it.  In its own way, this is also a reflection of Touya having all his energy and ambition and nowhere to put it, contributing to his own mental break.

2.) In both my Inktober post and this piece, Rei won gold and she’s wearing a different jacket, showing these were separate competitions.  Winning gold wasn’t a one-off moment; she was relatively successful and that may have served as some unspoken tension/resentment between her and Endeavor if she was one of the top competitors in her profession while her husband never made it past second place until over two decades into his.

I like the idea of this background for her.  I want to explore it further possibly as a one-shot, but I have a lot of ongoing projects right now (plus I’d need to do a little more research on how professional snowboarding competitions work,) so it’s a little up in the air whether or not an actual fic will happen.  For now, I hope you enjoy the artwork.

…

I also referenced Touya’s freaky smile for these, albeit not quite as intense.  He got that from someone, and my money is on Mom.  Mostly because I am entertained by the idea of a much younger Rei rocketing down a mountainside and terrifying other snowboarders with the same ecstatic, unhinged smile her son has.  And that footage probably exists online somewhere, someone in Class 1A is going to find it, and be all,  “Uh, Todoroki, I think I found a video of your mom.”

…

And just in case anyone asks:  Yes, that is Korra in the back.  I like to sneak crossover cameos into both my fanart and fanfics, and when thinking of characters, I remembered a behind the scenes LOK fact that Korra’s character design was partially inspired by female snowboarders.

The third snowboarder is also a cameo from a more obscure, nostalgia cartoon:  Suzy Lu from Storm Hawks.

[erens-heart]

FIREPLACES | HJP / YOU

you start to think your friend harry potter is quite attractive.

a/n • idk what the fuck this is! my first time writing in about 5 years and i’ve also never written for hp characters despite loving harry from the age of 5.

theme • angsty and fluffy, i don’t write smut (for now!!!)

warnings • mentions of death, grieving harry, violence

word count is 4.1k, i wrote this in one sitting.

you weren’t exactly irrelevant, your name was at least recognised, however you were also perfectly and plainly ordinary. you didn’t have a huge number of friends at hogwarts, however you were lucky to be well acquainted with harry potter. you weren’t close enough with him to spill your deepest and innermost thoughts, but you enjoyed laughing with him on the way to dinner most evenings; you greeted each other warmly whenever you passed him in the corridor and even offered to help him with his homework on the odd occasion. it was a simple friendship - nice. your conversations never got much deeper than, “hello”, “how are you?”, “have you handed your essay on werewolves in yet?”, but they were pleasant nevertheless. the most you knew about him was that he had triumphed against voldemort (but who didn’t) and lived in an awfully dull neighbourhood called little whinging, but he never went into any detail about his encounters, you assumed that he saved those stories for his best friends ron and hermione. in fact, the more you considered it, you realised that harry was actually a very private, quiet boy, who said as little as he could get away with. sometimes when you said “hello” you felt as though you’d bothered him, he always seemed to have a sad look in his eyes, even when he was laughing his hardest.

you never really took much time to consider finding harry attractive, until you overheard two gryffindor girls oggling over his photo in the daily prophet on the way to your lesson one morning. you revised the idea in your head, and admittedly agreed that his eyes were really gorgeous, and recalled the times you’d caught his cold eyes in class. most of the time it was because he was deep in thought, staring at the wall past you and you happened to be looking in his direction.

professor slughorn was in the middle of teaching potions. you weren’t completely invested in the lesson because you couldn’t concentrate. your mind kept distractingly returning to the idea that harry’s eyes were infact really pretty. you turned discreetly to your right and saw him sat there. to your startled dismay his blue eyes were staring right at you. you weren’t good at things like this and sat there stiffening, knuckles turning white as you gripped the edges of your desk at your attempt to hide the fact that you’d been oggling at him like all of the other girls in your year.

when the lesson had come to an end, you heard harry’s soft voice call after you, because you’d been trying to hurry out amongst the rest of the bustling students to escape the embarrassment of the escapade at the beginning of the hour. as much as you’d wanted to, you couldn’t ignore him, you were supposed to be good friends, so you paused whilst teetering out of the arched doorway and turned on heel.

“hey harry.”

he seemed even more troubled than usual, and you immediately felt your stomach lurch. “slughorn’s loving you these days, isn’t he?” you continued whilst the conversation remained in the archway of the classroom even as the other students dispersed back to their common rooms.

harry nodded before slowly presenting you with his potions book. you were confused until he opened it to the blank page prefacing the table of contents.

this book is property of the half-blood prince.

“i’m not quite sure what this means.” you followed dryly, screwing your eyebrows together at the peculiar text, it seemed to have been inked in by a student.

harry hadn’t talked much yet aside from calling your name. his thin lips pressed into a frown and he shook his head too, “me neither. this book is the reason i’ve been coming out on top of the class”, your eyes found his whilst he spoke, “hermione would tell me to hand it over to slughorn, and ron might get jealous, so i thought i would show you. you’re easy-going.” your lips curled up at the compliment he had just paid you. for the first time, he’d confided in you before either of his best friends, and it gave you butterflies for some reason.

—

ever since your conversation with harry after potions, you two had been meeting regularly in the library. you had asked harry if you could copy the notes from the strange book into your own for academic purposes, and unbeknownst to you harry had agreed because he found your company oddly comforting.

this particular evening was unlike any other until harry broke the silence in a way that was strikingly unfamiliar to you. he started venting.

“being the chosen one isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” he sighed with comedic, adolescent frustration and pressed his cheek against a stack of books on the desk. he was watching your quill scribble away and fought back the urge to yawn. he was grumpy a lot of the time, he’d become a very temperamental boy in the recent stages of his teen-hood - it made you giggle. you put your quill down, and entertained his complaint by asking him “why?”.

he rolled his eyes and pointed at two fourth year girls sat in the corner of the library, “i haven’t gone a day this year without some girl coming up to flirt with me,” he consciously tugged the hood of his jumper closer around his neck, ”i think i preferred it when everybody hated me last year, to be honest.” you managed a laugh and put your hand on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

“i can picture your frustration. i don’t blame them though.” you immediately bit your tongue, you hadn’t meant to insinuate anything, but luckily harry thought nothing of what you’d said and shrugged, still visibly annoyed. it was also uncommon for you and harry to engage in any skinship whatsoever and, realising this, you quickly withdrew your hand from his shoulder, pretending to tuck a tuft of hair back behind your ear.

by the time you and harry were ready to leave for bed that night, you’d long been finished taking notes, but you enjoyed small talk with harry beside the candlelight, and he enjoyed it too. by habit of his escapist nature, he’d been enjoying your company more than anyone else’s for the past two or three weeks because there was nothing complicated to your friendship, and he never gave you any indication of struggling so you never asked. harry liked that. he had a feeling that you probably knew he had his personal impediments being “the chosen one”, but you accepted them blindly with a kind smile, and treated him indifferently. it was all very convenient and comfortable. he was also starting to consider the idea that you had very nice eyes too.

—

and the school year continued just like that. you and harry grew closer than ever; you revelled in eachother’s company; you spent your evenings together in the library; you spent your mornings together in the great hall revising. most crucially, you were best friends denying the presence of anything more because you were both too shy. harry also didn’t want to risk overcomplicating one of the few relationships in his life that took his mind off voldemort.

in his time away from you throughout the year, he continued to carry out dumbledore’s endeavours and courted slughorn into revealing his vices. in the month leading up to this, harry had been distancing himself from you. although he thought it better to keep you at arm’s length from his business with dumbledore, he hadn’t been intentionally trying to avoid you, he was just so very busy. he felt guilty nonetheless.

you took harry’s absence on the chin, you knew he dealt with a lot of things, things he didn’t disclose in casual conversations with you because that would spoil the light-heartedness of the time you spent together. you took it as an opportunity to resume the studies you’d fallen behind on, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit… lonely. you hadn’t been on your own like this since harry had called for you after that one potions lesson.

reminiscently, you opened your potions book on the notes you had taken when you were with harry, and smiled fondly. but then your heart sank. it wasn’t abnormal to miss your friends, but what you felt was beyond yearning, you just kept it hidden from harry and the other students, not that harry had the time to notice these days. at most, he managed a quick “hello” as he passed in and out of the common room, until one morning he had disappeared altogether.

you attended breakfast alone. you attended your first class of the day alone. you felt so miffed that you decided not to attend your defence against the dark art’s class, in fact you were truant for the rest of the school day. the fact that you hadn’t seen harry at all today worried you immensely, even when he was busy he was always loitering somewhere about the grounds. yesterday he’d returned from hagrid’s fairly late, you guessed that maybe he was tired and sleeping it off, but a dark hunch that you had implied otherwise.

that night, your intuition summoned you to the astronomy tower, one of few places you visited for undisrupted pondering. your chest felt clogged with an indescribable feeling, it felt almost like a sixth sense, or something similar to unease. the sky foreshadowed a storm, you felt it in the humid air too. usually you would feel lost without harry, but for some reason the fear inspired an unusual confidence in you, and you balled your hands into two determined fists as you stared out over the grounds. it all felt nostalgic, the sweep of grey trees in the distance reminded you of the life that had inhabited the school when you were a little girl. you couldn’t decide why you were crying exactly. maybe you missed harry. maybe you just hated being alone. you soaked it up with the sleeve of your school jumper and turned to leave, and you would have done if not for the indistinct sound of footsteps.

you took off down the stairs and uttered a soft “lumos” to your wand, illuminating a pair of blue eyes, but they weren’t harry’s. your eyes winced at the mop of silver-blonde hair infront of you. the male you recognised easily as malfoy pinned you suddenly to the wall with his forearm and despite looking fairly scrawny, his forearm was bigger than you anticipated - you couldn’t move.

“what are you doing up here”, he asked bluntly, yet whispered at the same time. malfoy’s clothes carried a smell that you likened to an old cupboard, or dusty furniture. he was someone that you knew to be unpleasant, due to harry’s recollection of their quarrellings, but you had exchanged few words with him during your time at school. you weren’t aware of harry’s extra-curricular activities, and even less aware of harry’s speculations about malfoy. your expressionless face mocked draco’s attempt to scare you, you raised a cocky eyebrow and retorted, repeating the same question he had asked you.

“it’s none of your business.” his voice quivered briefly, you recognised this as fear, but ignored it when you heard the sound of someone apparating into the castle, soon followed by the sound of harry’s voice. draco’s head turned almost as quickly as yours. his plans had not accommodated harry. it was hard to say who was more staggered by this. the inches between you and draco were quickly severed when the blonde boy pulled out his wand and took up the stairs. you immediately thought it best to stay hidden beneath the floorboards, you didn’t think harry would take kindly to finding out that you were there, even though it was highly unintentional, he liked to keep you separate from his dealings. plus, it was late. malfoy was joined by a few unrecognisable characters dressed anonymously in black, and snape. breath hitched, you crouched behind one of the pillars and eavesdropped on the conversation happening above you, and it didn’t take you long to understand that it wasn’t going to be a friendly encounter, however it sounded unlike any of the altercations harry had previously described to you. you knew malfoy to be a snobby, sneering sod, but you hadn’t thought of him as an accomplice until you heard snape strain “avada kedavra” discernibly above the conflict.

you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a staggered, gagging cry. you felt as though you couldn’t breathe. you supposed this is what grief felt like, but it had all happened so quickly, you’d hardly processed the events you’d just heard before you felt it curdle with rage in your gut. harry was long gone, judging by his outburst you assumed he was chasing after snape. before he fled after the teacher, harry’s tone had become unrecognisably cruel, a tone that had never occurred to you in all the years you’d known the bright boy. it made you shiver.

you could still hear malfoy’s discordant sobs on top of the tower, so you confronted him quickly, casting bereaved spells at him with your wand. if harry knew you were involving yourself…

it didn’t matter.

“STUPEFY!”

he looked reluctant to engage in this duel with you, but that didn’t stop him from disarming you. your wand flew from your hand and you inelegantly dived after it. malfoy dived after your wand, simultaneously, and as you both landed on the floor with a thud, you raised your palm to his pale cheek and slapped him. it was so harsh that you felt your palm stinging too, but the pain didn’t phase you as you wrestled your wand from the slytherin boy’s puny hand. flecks of spit from draco’s mouth landed on your face because he was gritting his teeth so angrily, he portrayed a level of fury you thought was impossible for a 16 year old boy to feel. he stopped resisting you, there was something heartbreakingly defeated about the cowardly slytherin. you led slumped against a pillar opposite him, panting in a deathly silence.

—

harry couldn’t hear anything, besides the sound of blood gushing in his ears and a slight pulse. he recalled how snape’s cloak had coiled back and swept over harry’s exhausted body before the gaunt-looking man accompanied a cloaked woman into the dark forest.

coward.

he knelt honourably beside dumbledore’s lifeless body, caressing the man’s silver beard with his fingertips. it was inconsolable, his pain. harry only knew loss. everybody that he held close seemed to die and slowly the amount of people that he could trust seemed to be growing smaller, and smaller. with every loss, he felt a small part of the excited 11 year old boy he once was die too. he was too young to feel this way, it was excruciating, but even though he felt this way, he remained nonchalant and concealed what few tears fell down his cheeks.

you stood with the rest of the grieving students, but you felt scared stepping forward to comfort harry, it had been a good few weeks since you had felt close to the boy. he had his back to the crowd, it confirmed the trauma you had only guessed at for years every time you looked into his shy, blue eyes across the classroom. your heart ached.

you waded quietly past the others students as they held their illuminated wands to the sky above and lowered to your knees beside harry, his eyes didn’t meet yours. all magic aside, your held your friends’ hand with a human understanding of his agony and set your wand aside, squeezing his hand weakly with what strength you had left. he was never very open about his trauma, but he didn’t need to be at that moment, you collected his soft, soft sobs in your shoulder as you pulled him in against your chest and held him. you could feel how badly he was hurting. you wished you could take it all away.

and you stayed there holding him late into the night, long after the other students had cleared and returned to their dormitories. professor mcgonagall stayed with dumbledore too.

—

two weeks had passed since dumbledore’s passing. your friendship with harry wasn’t quite the same. it was common knowledge that you had been there on the astronomy tower, you’d also told him about your brawl with malfoy. you didn’t talk about much else after airing that, harry was reluctant to talk about what had happened, mostly because it was too painful, but also because then he would have no choice but to accept the events as factual. that also meant accepting that hogwarts would never be the same, accepting that everything had irreversibly changed.

conversations were duller than ever. harry had become even more temperamental. you often heard him lashing out late at night, when he was alone in his dormitory, or heard his footsteps on the cold floor in the common room when he went to sit by the fire to relieve himself of a nightmare or a terror. you recognised them as harry’s footsteps because you too stayed awake all night, and noticed that you never heard his footsteps returning to bed, and often found him sat there the next morning staring bitterly into the fire wearing the same damp pyjamas that he had soaked that night.

one memorable night, you were pulled aside before bed by hermione granger. you knew she was one of harry’s best friends, though you’d never spoken to her. you hadn’t anything against her, and you hoped the feeling was mutual, even greater than that you hoped she didn’t sense you as a threat to her long-lasting friendship with him. you weren’t like that.

you pulled your dressing gown robe around your body and tied it at the front as she began to murmur, “i’m sure you know harry’s in an awful way.” you nodded silently. “he’s never been keen on relying on people, you know. the whole time i’ve known him i’ve never seen him ask somebody for help. except maybe dumbledore…” she trailed off cautiously, even she treated dumbledore as a delicate topic of conversation since he had passed away.

she pulled her curls back into a ponytail and frowned. “but i also don’t think he would be so against relying on you.” you couldn’t help but feel as though hermione was suggesting you hadn’t been there for harry as much as you could have been. perhaps you’d neglected him through fear of seeming like you were prying when all he really needed was for you to try and persist. get through to him. you also guessed at the very obvious hint hermione had dropped that sounded as though both you and harry had feelings for the other that were unspoken for. you thanked hermione sincerely, and rushed down to the common room in your nightwear. you didn’t have any socks on, the stone castle floor was freezing.

you knew harry would be down soon, he came and sat by the fire every night without fail. you sat there too, melting into the sofa, hoping it would eat you alive because the anxiety was gnawing away at you. what if harry snapped at you? told you you were being troublesome or bothering him? when you saw his face descend down from the stairs to the boy’s dormitories, you regretted your instinct to come downstairs entirely. harry didn’t look bothered yet though.

he sat beside you quietly and sighed, pulling the collar of his pyjamas shirt away from his neck. it was damp from where he had been sweating already. without much thought, you stopped his trembling hand from tugging at the fabric and held yours clasped over his before opening your mouth, “i’m sorry, harry.”

he didn’t say anything. he looked like someone who’d heard sorry too many times in the past two weeks.

“we used to have fun together…” you started, unsure of where you were actually going with this. “i’m not here to pity you, like most of the others. i do understand, you know. not quite as fully as you, i haven’t been through nearly as much, but when i see you crying, harry, i…”

you brought his hand down from his neck and held it firmly in your lap, “i can’t watch you in pain and-“ you breathed and reticent as you were said very plainly, “i don’t mean that as a friend either, harry.”

you met harry’s blue eyes. they seemed surprised, although you weren’t sure why. he was brilliant, you wish he saw that. not brilliant because he was “the chosen one”, or because he was somewhat of a celebrity, but because of how brave and exceedingly kind he was.

“i don’t understand, y/n.”

“yes, you do.”

harry knew he’d understood you as well. but he hadn’t expected your friendship to take so much of a dark turn so quickly, he wanted to keep you away from that. and he didn’t like you seeing the vulnerable side of him either, despite however pleasantly intimate it was to have you comfort him. maybe this was enough, though. maybe this was close enough.

you were sat inches from eachother on the sofa before the fire. but you were close enough that he could smell your perfume. it made him smile. it wasn’t a big smile at all, unlike the huge grins that practically stretched to his ears when he was a little boy. but it was a smile nevertheless. he also decided against fighting the urge to smile because your determination made you that much prettier.

eyes straying, harry made a confession of his own, “do you know what i could smell when slughorn took the lid off of the amortentia in potions?”

“what?”

“something a bit like honeysuckle”, he paused, smiling into the fire, “i didn’t recognise it until you held me two weeks ago. i’d never gotten close enough to notice that you smell like that.”

your mouth fell open slightly but conscious that you were catching flies, you quickly shut it and smile too. this conversation suddenly felt nice, unlike the tension that had been brewing between you previously. you felt warm again, just like you had done when you shared your evenings together in the library.

“i’ve liked you for a long time, harry, but i didn’t want you to think i was taking advantage of you.”

“why would i think that?” suddenly his bushy, black eyebrows were knotted together above his nose.

“all that talk of you being “the chosen one”, i didn’t want you to think that’s the only reason i took any interest. especially when you despised other girls for that very reason.”

he scoffed, you were right, those girls had been awfully annoying. he turned his head slightly, commanding a shy pink colour to creep into your cheeks. even when you and harry had been at your closest, you became bashful when he held eye contact with you, it felt very intense. without giving any thought to his actions, he cupped your face with one hand and brought you in for a kiss.

it was a very slow kiss, his thin lips slotted in gently against yours. you’d never contemplated what harry was like as a kisser but he exceeded all of the expectations. it was a nice feeling. warm. your pining hands reached for his pyjama shirt and tugged longingly at the fabric, not in a suggestive manner but as a means of saying that you had waited so long to feel harry surrender like this. it didn’t last for very long, he pulled away with a sigh and pressed his forehead to yours, glasses falling further down the slope of his nose. harry felt like a normal teenage boy and for a moment failed to remember that he was really a wizard and his life was really about to change for the worst now that dumbledore was gone and voldemort was back. you were still forehead-to-forehead, breathing florally against his mouth when he realised that soon he would have to confront his new reality.

for now, harry wanted to remain ignorant for a while longer.

[hiraeth-nostalgic]

SO (sorry i was gone i'm back to YAPPING)

who the FUCK is out here thinking reki had absolutely NO growth through the first season of sk8??? I saw a post talking about how even though he is the main character we "never see any development" regarding him and i just need to tell people who believe that: you are wrong.

Listen, reki is the main character™ so let me recount some things for us all.

first thing that comes to mind: when he is experiencing the jealousy that comes from the insecurity of being left behind, but he still shows up to see Langa race Joe. He still calls out to langa, and we see that even though he was insecure and feeling left behind he STILL came to support someone. he then sees that video talking about the guy who created the track shoes that were being worn and thinks it's stupid. that if he can't be at the top of skating, he shouldn't even skate anymore. he should just give up his dream bc a couple people are better than him. He has the talk with his manager that even if you aren't the MOST talented that doesn't mean you can't be involved and Reki still isn't quite there yet. I believe it was Joe who reminded reki that they are all on different levels and reki gets pulled into the beef with Adam. NOW the beef with Adam we see Reki trying to bridge the gap. He wants it so bad. it's not that he's not a great skater, because he is, but i think it comes from the general lack of self-love/self-confidence that held him back for a couple of things. HOWEVER he avoids Adam's moves, he literally JUMPS off the side and FLIPS (something he had never done before!) reki NEARLY wins and he would've if his board hadn't snapped!!! He embarrassed Adam!! something no one else had done!!!

the second thing: We see Reki become okay with not being the absolute best of the best and how he is a great skater, in his own way. (this starts to show in the race with Adam and then at the end we see it REALLY show) sure it may take him a little longer to learn a trick or something but he still learns it. he still loves skating. he redefines his LOVE of the sport not because he's the best of the best but because he actually has a support system in skating instead of before when he had no friends who shared the interest (you know, aside from a previous friend who could no longer skate) and its the story of even if you aren't as great as someone else you know, its still okay to do things for FUN and hanging out.

like this idea haunts all of us. for example: singing? most people are fine singers!!! but because they don't sing like Beyonce or Billie Eilish, suddenly they shouldn't sing for fun bc "they can't make a job out of it" like, the same for reki. Joe, Cherry, and Shadow are all adults who have lives outside of skating but for a CHILD it's the only thing for them at this point in their life, they are still trying to figure out who they are. its crucial to teens. Reki's not getting on a national team, he can't build a career out of actually skating so does that mean he shouldn't enjoy it? no!!! he works at the skate shop, he's really talented at building the boards, designing them, and understanding what will help individual people the best!! that's more than anyone else in the S community that we see actively skating.

Anyway, reki has so much growth in not only his skating but in his mental health but because it's not as flashy as Langa's or Adam's, people overlook it and downplay it.

[okaystoptellingmetomakeanaccount]

Boo Frank Miller Scrooge jumpscare

Now that i’ve got your attention:

Here look ifnonity dime thoughts im so quick whatsoit spoilers under the cut

It was first just thoughts quickly typed but then it became more of a review so enjoy the first infinity dime review on blumber i guess

So my main gripe with the comic (aside from that its short as balls) is that they skip the most interesting part. The actual traveling through the multiverse. That was what I thought me and everyone was looking forward to. To see Scrooge traveling through the multiverse and meet his other selves and react to that. But Aaron just went nah bitch: “a few weeks later”.

We have a prologue beautifully drawn by Paolo Mottura (who even though he greatly did the atmospheric dark Christmas should have done the action sequence imo) that is available to read in the previews anyways. Then chapter 2 which is half available to read in the previews as well. Little confrontation between Scrooge and evil Scrooge or whatever which is nice and all. Then we skip to the real ‘meat’ of the story and its just a really long action sequence…. Greatly drawn by Alessandro Pastrovicchio, but still just a very long action sequence. Maybe this is very usual for Marvel, i don’t know, i haven’t really read enough Marvel comics to know what is usual, but we have what is basically a 12 page long prologue, fight fight punch punch (insert don rosa reference here) and then epilogue.

And like this could mostly be due to the short page count, but had it been longer, i wonder if we would’ve just gotten a more drawn out action sequence instead of more actual story development. Because there was a very deliberate choice made to skip ahead to the fighting and have that be the main attraction. Such a fight scene should be a nice reward at the end after a buildup that makes us feel like this action-packed climax is deserved. After we see Scrooge struggle through time and universes to get to work together with himself, we see the result of that hard work in the fight scene. We can’t just skip over the build up and plop us in a “and then they punched each other for the rest of the chapter”. The action sequence would have probably been quite nice at the end of a longer story, but right now it feels like it’s taking the place of an actual storyline.

Because the entire thing is literally: there is a bad Scrooge (very well set up though). He steals from everyone including the Scrooge we know. They find a way to get to bad Scrooge. They get to bad Scrooge. They fight bad Scrooge. They defeat bad Scrooge. It’s just, they go there, they fight him, over. Everybody clap.

Bad Scrooge himself is great. Really well set up. Is it a dumb fucking Rosa thing? Yes it is, I’m my country’s biggest Rosa stan (aside from Diederik Jekel probably) whatcha gonna do about it?

“What if? Donald and the boys never arrived on Bear mountain…” is an immaculate premise. Which, though it has been done better before, is still really cleverly utilized here. It’s also a very good showing of what we mean when we say that comic Scrooge is always one step away from being a villain. He is no different than Glomgold. One is not good and the other is not evil. One just got lucky with family. The other did not.

Then the ending needed to be wholesome and redeem bad Scrooge and uhuhejshsh but sure

rosareference.cbr loaded

You have the literal multiverse at your fingertips. Then you decide to reference Don Rosa and Don Rosa only. Which I mean wasn’t a surprise I literally predicted it in that long speculation post of mine, but it still feels like a missed opportunity. When the army of Donald’s gets send in, there isn’t even one wearing an all black and white suit. Would it have been really so difficult to get a small DT17 reference in there?

What annoys me, and I find surprising considering the enormous talent of the artists, is that all the multiverse characters look the same. Like on the last page, all the Donalds look exactly the same. There is no sense of individuality for even one of them. They give more the sense that they all came out of a cloning machine.

Even Scrooge. He traveled the entire multiverse and only got one guy who isn’t himself from a different point in time? Or maybe it’s future him, could be! Why not make it a time travel story where a Scrooge from the future has gone mad with power? Because the Scrooges we see are almost all the same. It’s a fun reference of course, but this ain’t showing multiverse. And it’s not like there aren’t already established AU versions of Scrooge. Even then, a little creativity would have still been nice. For an example of such a multiverse story I would like to point to Crisis On Infinite Darkwings, which does a phenomenal job at showing multiverse diversity. Infinity Dime wouldn’t need to do all the pop culture references Crisis does, but again, a little more creativity in the designs would not have hurt at all.

And now that i’ve been yapping for long enough anyways, let’s talk about the length too. It’s not even 30 pages. It’s 29. The artists do a good job at making it feel big and grand. No matter though how epic and great they made and could have made it. If your comic is shorter than the average Donald Duck gag comic, it’s gonna be difficult to make it feel like “his greatest adventure yet”. Then comes with that the irregular layout. There are a few double page spreads and almost all pages are just a few ‘panels’. Instead of an usual 8 or 6 panels per page (and so 8 or 6 panels to develop your story) it is usually 3 or even 1. The amount of panels make the comic even shorter than it already is. Christmas on Bear mountain will likely take you longer to read through.

Not that irregular layout is bad. I love irregular layouts! I love seeing them. Usually they really help elevating my enjoyment of a duck comic! But when you know you have a big story you want to tell, and a limited amount of pages, it is a risk to spread your story even thinner by having many big splash pages where the pretty drawing takes front and center instead of the story.

Then it makes it EVEN SHORTER because there is not a lot of dialogue. Mostly because half of it is action without that much talking. There is a pretty fun way of using the narrator boxes. They are quite melodramatic but I like em.

Jason Aaron’s introductory page was very sweet.

Regardless of the quality of this story, I really, really hope that these kinds of releases continue. It was very fun and special to read something like this.

If these do continue, I would absolutely love an actual comic series. A longer continuing story please! Pretty please? This page count is just not enough to tell stories like these and more pages to properly flesh out things would be absolutely wonderful. I’m personally not that looking forward to the upcoming Marvel parodies, but if original stories continued, it would be the first American comic series I followed.

I cannot overstate enough how much I want more Marvel Disney comics actually. I need them. I get what people mean now on here when they say “going absolutely feral”. I feel it.

Oh and apparently I have 100 followers now on this blog so that’s nice. Consider this the celebratory post! My review of my most anticipated comic. To end it look at the only Mangiatordi pages in here because looking at Mangiatordi art makes all well

Damn actually this one isnt even that good what happened Vitale- sorry no great comic more please marvel disney

[kostektyw]

Villainess anime reviews

went on a bit of a binge, so here's a compilation:

I'm the Villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss

rating: lots of fun

one of the funnier entries on this list in my opinion, i actually laughed out loud multiple times

the protagonist is a capable and determined lady, as well as slightly unhinged which i always enjoy, i love weird women

breakneck pace, speedrunning like 3 games in the 12 episode, so it is the opposite of boring

this anime has everything: ducks, crows in bowties, crossdressing, ducks, video game brain rot, and ducks

Villainess Level 99: I May Be the Hidden Boss but I'm Not the Demon Lord

rating: at east somewhat interesting (still ongoing, episodes watched: 5)

aside from the gimmick a pretty standard isekai with pretty eh animation

a lot of this show is kinda boring, but there are still interesting and enjoyable moments

the protagonist is charming and probably the strongest part

i will probably be continuing to see what happens next so depending on that my opinion may change

The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen: From Villainess to Savior

rating: charming

one of the series from this list that i enjoyed most, even if the story and the world are a bit simple, the characters and their struggles still work and aren't too difficult to get invested in

a bit more drama in this one, with tragic flashbacks (or whatever they're called if its abt an alternate plotline) that i found maybe a little too frequent

here the protagonist is also capable, driven, and quite traumatized, i wanna hold her in my hands like a baby bird

My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

rating: cute!

the bisexual harem is a breath of fresh air

bakarina's dumbassery is a great source of comedy, she's also pretty lovable so the harem around her is believable. and i love a gal with a hobby

I'm in Love with the Villainess

rating: eh

kinda disappointed with this one, i was hoping for some fun gl story, but it could barely watch the first episode and had to force myself to try a few more in hopes it got better (it didnt)

the romance part felt more like harassment in those first episodes, and sure, ive read that it progresses further, but the protagonist didnt really endear herself to me with that

given the comedy tag on mal there were probably some jokes in it, i just couldn't identify many good ones

7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy!

rating: hell yeah! (still ongoing, episodes watched: 6)

the best one of all shows listed and the only one that's not an isekai

much more grounded, with good worldbuilding and another capable lady as the protagonist, but this one even more so, as well as much more mature

very pretty, even if i find some character designs questionable :v

definitely got me hooked and i will be watching more