#i liked it and decided to Expand™

[mcmansionhell]

a fine selection of bonker facades from the DC suburbs

Howdy folks! In honor of Halloween, here are some of the scariest houses currently for sale in the ever-cursed suburbs of Washington, DC. It's been awhile since I checked in on this particular hotspot, and once more, it did not disappoint.

I'll just get this one out of the way. Long-time McMansion Hell-heads are well aware of this monster estate in Potomac, MD, once allegedly owned by a particular professional athlete who will not be named, because the house should suck on its own merit. The only nice thing I can say about this house is that the designers kept the materials and colors consistent, which adds some unity to what is, in reality, five turrets in a trench coat.

Some things, the economists tell us, are too big to fail. This is not one of them. Let's move on.

Many McMansions exist to mock the concept of architectural consistency and historical continuity. This is one of them. About every single type of expanded second-story window elaboration exists here: bay window, covered balcony, juliet balcony. None of them work. The house can't decide if its 19th century eclecticism or tony DC Georgian/Federal cocktail. The random cupola merely adds insult to injury.

I don't know where realtors learned how to do photoshop, but whoever taught them should have their Adobe licenses revoked. There's a certain type of McMansion I call a "hat house" - which is exactly what it sounds like. It's a house with multiple bays or masses and each has its own special hat. This is one of the most egregious examples because all of the hats are different shapes and scales. Not even the most Disney Theme Park pink sky and fairy lighting can mitigate the controlling aesthetic influence of hät.

No compilation of Bad Facades would be complete without at least one Frankentudor™. Rich people in America really like to harken back to the days of feudalism, yet uglier, more drab, and using materials mostly derived from petrochemicals. The lighting is not helping this house, which is about as gloomy, hulking, and bloated as they come.

I have some fondness for houses that derive new, inventive forms of being ugly. The spread eagle McMansion is one of them, two oblique wings with no real core. A corner lot specimen. This one is especially weird, with the quadruple portholes, the windowless bays, the mall foyer, and the hipped roof that's not quite clipped, complete with tacked on gables. Kind of neat, sad to say.

I know most of you won't agree, but I actually believe this is the worst McMansion of the set. The absolute banality of it, the out-of-proportion everything, the compound-like demeanor, the nonsensical spacing of the mind-numbingly identical windows. The most infuriating part is that whoever designed this had some kind of order, continuity, proportion in mind and just failed utterly at it, like Sideshow Bob stepping on all those rakes. I hate it!!!!

When rich people try to make overly-inflated temples to their dumb piles of money, it's deeply satisfying when they end up looking like this house, which is just a pile of roof and wall tacked on to the worst proportioned portico imaginable. Classic McMansion Hubris. Let us all laugh.

Now we're getting into the more eldritch horror part of the list. Some houses make me wonder if I have the same set of eyeballs and conceptions of what "a house" looks like as other people. This one is playing dress up games with foam stickers. It looks like Steve's shirt from Blues Clues. It abuses the prairie muntins, which is an insult to my chosen hometown of Chicago, Illinois. Bad house.

Not enough time is devoted on this blog to bad modernism, though it would be rather generous to call this house modern. It's more like postmodernism trying to remember what modernism looked like and tripping down a flight of stairs collecting random masses and windows on the way down. Houses like this give modern architecture a bad name. It's borderline libel. Also it looks like it was made out of cardboard.

This brings us to our final, and objectively worst house:

I don't even know what to say about this freak of architecture. I don't know how it came together or why. I don't know what it wants or even pretends to do. It is a horrorshow. Gables protruding from random places, stealth roof fragments, windows too small for the walls they're embedded in, a weird cathedral-like entrance, the mosquito-infested pond, the worst example of realtor sky I've ever seen, all of it is terrible. It's haunted. Trick or Treat, but without the treat.

Anyway, that does it for this installment. If you're curious about more McModern badness, this month's Patreon bonus post will be to your liking!

Happy Halloween and Día de Los Muertos!

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including extra posts and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.

[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.

[mcchipisfried]

I'm watching Hannibal for the first time and I'm not gonna lie I had my doubts. (Currently on Seaon 2 Episode 11)

(ALSO SPOLIERS BELOW though I think I'm the last person on tumblr who HASN'T seen Hannibal)

My forefathers forgive me, I had doubts. So so many doubts. I wanted to go into this show decimating everyone's reasoning that Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham would work as a couple (romantic or otherwise). I wanted to be fed a story about murder, deception, manipulation, betrayal, and maybe even a little but of cannibalism. And don't get me wrong I have gotten this, but I've also been fed a romantic comedy.

I went into this show not wanting to find reasons to want these two together, I wanted to think "Oh the people of tumblr probably pieced a bunch of subtext together and I probably will as well but it'll hardly be anything that I could write about to my friends who haven't seen the show"

I was so fucking wrong.

Really it should have been the moment where Alana and Hannibal were having a ✨️moment✨️ while Will and Margot were also having a ✨️moment✨️ so the way the whole scene played was very. Well. Not what you would expect from a guy that should have every reason to shoot Hannibal on sight. The fucking framing and cinematography got me to send a 3 minute long vm at 2 am to my friend who really doesn't care about Hannibal.

Or maybe it should have been every single time tweddle dee and tweddle dum are even remotely alone together and decide to start eye fucking each other while also making death threats.

But no what got me was when Alana described what was done to Freddie Lounds' body the second time around as a demonstration of a courtship (best way I can phrase it without just explaining the plot that led us here)

Really, its such a small moment.

But the way the two idiots are standing there looking at each other and Alana shouldn't have been as funny as it was nor should it have instantly reminded me of an early 2000's movie where the couple is secretly dating because they just can't help it and some third party, maybe even one the main couples friends discovers them while trying to NOT make it a Big Deal™ because they are in public except y'know, this is happening over the body that Person A burned to a crisp and sent rolling in a wheelchair while Person B got said body after the funeral and made it into an effigy.

Anyways TLDR: I thought the Hannibal x Will stuff was all very insignificant subtext but actually it was just text and it was screaming. I would also like to thank my film, cinematography, scriptwriting, lighting, and storytelling college classes because as it turns out you did do something for me. You made me realize that whatever is happening between Hannibal and Will is not platonic and I will be consulting AO3 to further expand my understanding of these characters as soon as I finish watching the show.

Also yes I know at some point someone says Hannibal is in love with Will. But now I'm starting to believe that.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

300 Follower Celebration Lorepost — Ceredell!!

Welcome back to another episode of Worldbuilding™! So happy to have new followers, and I can't wait to bore y'all with more world building!

Without further ado, let's begin!

Ceredell is one of the most complex regions in Triworld, with a vast history and more gore than the average slasher movie. Once upon a time, it was a flowering, forested region much like many others, whose name was lost to time. But one day, Terras, an artificer, discovered a way to generate magic. He thought to make his home flourish, and in the manner of mad scientists everywhere, endeavoured to do so by turning himself into a god.

He was successful. So successful, in fact, that he managed to wreck the whole of Ceredell, send it careening into a cursed land, and turn himself into the Void, in the process. (Read about that mess here) From that sunny, cheerful moment onwards, most bodies of water in the region that would come to be called were poisoned, things came out of the sea-turned-Void, and people died by the thousands. It grew so bad that in the northern provinces, living beings had all but died out.

That changed when a group of adventurers, led by fifth Prince Remington I of the southern kingdom Olip-Olep, decided to venture into and reclaim the cursed lands. There, they discovered that, while horrible things had sprouted across the lowlands, and fishing in the sea produced masses of rotting corpses, the mountains held something that made it all worthwhile: Soulstones.

Soulstones were an (up until then) incredibly rare gem that could store magical capacity. Much like diamonds formed under pressure, the concentration of magic was such that regular stone had been turned to soulstone, both sucking the worst of the curse out of the mountains and providing a foundation for an expanded Kingdom. So Remington I plopped himself in the long-abandoned castle of a king whose name has been forgotten (and named it something that has also long been forgotten), gleefully imported people over from Losaras and Olip-Olep, and set about to creating his new Kingdom.

Now, unbeknownst to him at the time, the tunnels he declared ‘mines’ were already inhabited, by spirits. They were a people made from the cursed dead, imbued with immortality, translucency, and more murder in their hearts than any mortal had previously seen. In their language, they had named the land Ceredell, or Mountain-home. King Remington I took that name from them, much like he took their homes and means of living. The spirits were, quite naturally, furious at the mortals' intrusion, forming the basis of a rivalry that would culminate in the Lich-Queen's coronation.

Though they fought valiantly, the humans overwhelmed their numbers, and the spirits were forced to flee to other lands. But that is a story for another day. 

King after King ruled the region, with a few Queens scattered in for good measure, the people of Ceredell came to find ways of surviving in the unforgiving lands of Ceredell, and life went on. They turned the river corpseflesh into stew, carved runes to float their cities far above the carnivorous monsters, and turned their undead homeland into a sanctuary. 

Then it all went wrong. The Void, all-knowing, all-seeing, all-traces of Terras gone, got its hands on three youths. Two sisters and a young man, each having strayed too close to Void. The two girls were found by guard-hunters, lost and precocious beyond belief. The elder sister, in particular, had the far-sight of an Oracle, and so the captain of the party brought her back to the castle. They took the little sister along for the ride, not suspecting it would be their downfall.

The girls were named Ramaeria, after wisdom, and Iraela, after the corpse-tree forest they were found in. Both names turned out to be accurate. 

Ramaeria grew up to be an Oracle of the highest calibre, gifted the world on a platter by the King. Her one flaw was her softness, her love for the cruel crown prince and her still crueller sister. She had seen their ends, seen how easy it would be to drown her blood and save the Kingdom, but could not. No, she watched her only family grow up from afar, too poisoned by fear to reach out and too struck with love to kill her.

Iraela grew up bitter and hateful, friend only to death and the books that lined the old library. Her very blood boiled with death, and the ability to reverse it. She looked out of her castle tower and saw her Queendom in the monsters that prowled the wilderness and the leafless trees. So, when she finally came into her powers, she struck without a second thought, to claim the throne she considered her right.

I could tell you the rest of the story of Iraela and the Lich-Queen she would become, but that would be spoiling you, would it not? Go read it here instead.

Now, an observant reader would notice the mention of a third figure: the man. Who was he? Why was he? What gift-curse did he receive from the Void? I have an answer for each of those.

The man was Maizen, Shatterer of Worlds, gifted a berserk fury and bloodlust that rivalled the Lich-Queen's. When she drank soup and dreamed of her heritage, he paved the way for her, scything through the southern cities of Ceredell, ripping society apart with wanton glee. One cannot truly say if Iraela could have taken over Ceredell without his help, if the forces of undeath would have been sufficient without the whirlwind of murder. One thing is for sure, however: He took a massive bite out of the armed forces of Ceredell.

Between the three fated ones and their choices (or lack thereof), Ceredell fell within two decades. All that remained were the Deadlands, home of ghouls, revenants, and the berserker bloodline, ruled over by an eternally vengeful Lich-Queen.

I suppose you could call it a bad ending. The spirits would disagree, however. The mortals who had taken their home from them, had gotten their just desserts at last. The ghouls would disagree too. They had finally found a home and a generous Queen. The berserkers, some Void-touched, some wanderers from lands that could not accept their curse, were grateful for a land that adored their blood-thirst.

For many, the Void was a saviour. Terras had achieved his goal, in a roundabout way. He had brought magic to the realm, and made it thrive. The locals weren't who he might have anticipated, and the route it took to get there sure did have a lot of genocide, but the outcome was as he wished for.

So, I suppose it might well serve a warning to you all— Be careful for what you wish for, for you might just get it.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[hiding-in-the-vault]

I would love to know more about the cave au. Why are the cave more dangerous now? Who's death Dream managed to get safety for bringing them back?

And because I'm a huge fantasy dwarves and fallen london fan : how did the architecture change? Is it safe to build underground or is everyone nomadic now? How is the food situation?

Long post oh boy!

The cave au is kinda like taking Dream's original mention of a "world altering event" and making it very literal. In minecraft terms, I'd describe it like the cave and cliff update installed overnight except on amplified mode. All of this is because there is so much imbalance™, that's the overworld is behaving erratically.

Most of the shifting already occurred underground by the time they noticed something was wrong. But things shifted a looott to the point where what they had explored had been altered or displaced, and what now expands below dwarfs their existing tunnels in comparison. So to answer the first question, it's essentially uncharted, for one. For two, the mobs are acting as unpredictable as the earth is, swarming the tunnels en masse. But more importantly, the longer theyre down there, the longer this goes on, the more the mobs get altered themselves. (which originally was so i can say hey more things glow now :) pretty!) But now, we're talking like massive spiders in every classic work of fantasy. I'm mulling over introducing new things here too, for flavor. (like those mods with the huge centipedes ughuhg) Maybe a warden or two gets displaced and starts wandering the tunnels, who knows! On that note, sculk is probably on the rise as well and they need to be careful about keeping it from getting too close.

As for who dies-- ngl, I haven't decided 100%. For what it's worth, this is only the First death, not the only one. I've been thinking one of the teens, as they seem most likely to wander too out from camp and get Got by something. First I thought Tubbo, but I don't really want Tommy to have to ask Dream to bring him back. (not like he'd do it alone- the entire group wants to avoid casualties) Then I thought Tommy, but discduo can't hog limbo forever, right, we've been there and seen that! My desire to not repeat things that already happened in canon vs whatever actually feels most likely, FIGHT!!

I haven't put too much thought into generated structures yet, like the dungeons or ancient cities, but I would like there to be some change there as well. It'd be coooool. (shaking your hand, i loove dwarven architecture) The walls of the caverns themselves often have a stretched feel about them. A looot of stalactite and stalagmites, on massive scales. I'd say it is safe enough to build, once they find a place that feels fitting- a cavern big enough for them but not too big that they'll have to share it. Water, nutrient rich dirt, existing vegetation preferred, etc etc. But even then, the caves do still shift on occasion. Basically earthquakes that will require them to do some repairs and plan structures around, but it's possible! They think, anyway :D

And finally food. They go in prepared the best they can. A lot of them has massive farms and lots of animals, ofc. They can't drag too many animals into the caves with them, but they prepared as much food as they could before going on, with intentions to start new farms once they settle down. Lots of potatoes, yay for Dream! And Some the underground lakes have a surprising about of fish in them. In all the uproar above ground, there was a lot of flooding, but many of those bodies of water pooled underground as well, taking the fish with them. This becomes a bit more reliable as time passes as well, as the fish adapt.

I'm kinda rolling with mobs very short life cycles and using that to explain why they change so much faster. Also Magic™

[ramenhue88]

Something about cheese 🧀

I love the designs of witches in Madoka Magica. Gekidan Inu Curry, the designer for the witches, is a GOAT. Witches all have that paper vibe going on with them. So, let's list all the witches that appeared in the anime so that you can see what I mean by, "Paper Vibe™" (Also note I'm going by the wiki) + Gertrud

+ H.N Elly (Kirsten)

(Side note for Elly is that we actually see her 2 different forms [Should I call it forms? Idk]. The picture above is when Sayaka killed her and the other one is when she's inside the television. Also, the picture above only shows up for about a second.)

+ Gisela

+ Elsa Maria (Poor her, got murdered by Sayaka)

+ Oktavia von Seckendorff (Seyiku.....)

+ Izabel

+ And of course, Walpurgis!

But wait a minute.... I feel like I'm forgetting someone.... OH RIGHT! + Charlotte!!

[Steppy steppy Homu] See those images? Now those are the #PaperVibes™ I'm looking for! Well except for Walpurgis who has 3D cog wheels instead of a paper vibe™. All witches look like this paper vibe™ but for the one I almost forgot; Charlotte, why is she the only exception to this rule? She's entirely animated like everyone else in the series. No other witch is drawn like this. She's the only exception when it comes to this rule. Well, the only NORMAL witch that is exempt from this rule. Ultimate Madoka's "witch" also doesn't follow the paper vibe™.

It's more drawn than paper bashed. And that's ok since Madoka is the most powerful magical girl thus making this one, the most powerful witch. So of course, it's gonna break the rules, same with Walpurgis. It's also drawn with its difference having 3D rendered cog wheels.

So why does a normal witch get the animated treatment? By Goddess Madoka, EVEN HOMURA has the paper bashed witch.

(Thank God Homura got the paper bashed witch treatment, I am gonna throw hands if she didn't. Look how beautiful that is...)

So why in Goddess Madoka's name does Bebe get the animated treatment, when we consider her, a normal witch? We can chalk this up to the animation team just wanting Bebe to stand out from the rest (Because she's the witch for the #IconicSceneAlert) and nothing more. Buuuuut... That's boring. So let me try to reason out why Bebe looks different from every other witch.

[Let me yoink this witch]

Ok, so about Bebe.... Well, what about her? We have nothing to go on if we're only talking about the main series. We don't know anything about her apart from her personality and design. Her wish? Nothing. Her past? Nothing. So how do we talk about someone who doesn't have anything? Well, we go to another universe silly! Magia!~ Record!~ (Cue the SONG)

Not that universe but another another one!

There we go. MAGIA~! RECORD~! (NOW cue the SONG) The game one.

In Magia Record they expanded much more on Nagisa, giving her an event titled: Nagisa's Wish! (If you want to watch it)

(Me and Nagisa have the same reaction after finding out the event is literally named Nagisa's Wish)

So, let's go back to her witch appearance for a moment. In Magia Record you fight her and EVEN in this game, they decide to make Charlotte look "normal".

Most, if not all, witches still look papery even in the game. I say most and not all because of the NA shutdown and I have no idea of anything past Arc 1 Magia Record (I'm still finding free time to catch up to Arc 2). Doppels and Rumours ALSO follow the papery rule.

There is one exception to Bebe's appearance and that is Nagisa's doppel.

[Now that's the papery vibe™ I'm looking for!]

So why does Bebe have a different art style than ALL of the other witches? Let's go to her MGS in Magia Record (Metal Gear Solid!? No, Magical Girl Story)

So, in her MGS we see that she's being followed by a Pink Kyubey which we can safely assume is Goddess Madoka. Why can we assume that? First, her transformation (when you get her in the gacha). It starts with the symbol of the law of cycles.

Second, it's literally Goddess Madoka pulling for her in her transformation.

[Go get that 5-star girl]

She's also putting make-up on Nagisa and making her look human.

Well not literally making her look human. You can read this as Goddess Madoka, preparing her to blend in because you know. She's half magical girl half witch already at this point. So of course, you gotta blend her in. So, we've made it clear that the Pink Kyubey is Goddess Madoka, watching Nagisa from afar. How important is Nagisa that THE Goddess Madoka, THE concept would get you to do work for her instead of another magical girl. Well firstly, she can't choose any of the 5, because Goddess Madoka is essentially killing the Magia Record version of them by putting another version in their body. Nagisa is the closest choice for Goddess Madoka because.... Because.....

[LMAOOOOO I HAVE NO IDEA WHY. SAME MAMI, SAME. Look I get that Bebe is the closest to them because she killed Mami?? I mean you could say that to Gertrud, Esla Maria, Gisella. Every other witch could have fit the Bebe position. But I'm not complaining that they used Nagisa btw.]

But this does bring up the fact that Nagisa is special in one way or another.

Ehemm... Back to the topic at hand.

So why does Bebe have a different art style than all the other witches. One theory I have is that Charlotte, the witch, has more control over their witch body compared to other magical girls. Like she's more accepting of what happened to her compared to other magical girls. She succumbed to despair, just like any other magical girl. But unlike the others, she chose to bathe in despair. Enjoy it.

[From Magia Record - Nagisa's Wish]

Other magical girls wallowed and grieved in despair. Not Nagisa no. She accepted this despair because there was nothing more she can do, there was nowhere for her to go anymore. She lost everything. So, when she became a witch, she was more in tune with it. She was more welcoming of her faith than other magical girls. (Ehem Homura, ehem...) Can you blame her though?

If everything in your life went wrong and then suddenly for a moment. Everything went your way. Would you not want to stay in that moment forever?

In her witch labyrinth she could eat all the cheese she wants.

For her, cheese was equivalent to her mother's love.

I mean, her mother loved cheese.

She on the other hand, didn't. After becoming a witch, she began to see cheese as a symbol of her mother. She loved chasing cheese; she loved eating cheese.

For her, chasing cheese began to symbolize her wanting to get her mother's love. That is why she's so obsessed with it. All she wanted was to go home with her mother.

Her life was a tragedy and she saved herself from it. By ending her tragedy of a life, she began a new and better life.

She could eat all the cheese she wants.

She could have all the snacks she wants.

She could choose from the varieties of cheese in the room!

This is the HapPiEst she has ever been!

Why would she deny herself this happiness?

The princess has finally found a place where she can happy! The End

Bonus!! So, while I was looking for a screenshot for the end of my post. I saw this happy Nagisa. And I thought to myself... "Wait a minutos, why is she happy? Shouldn't she have memories of everything that happened?" Well, for a fact she does. I mean, Sayaka remembers everything, she just forgot because Homura made her forget. Homura didn't do it to Nagisa. So, it's safe to assume she does remember. So, she's happy because Homura won? Not exactly. In rebellion the scene with Sayaka and Kyoko where she interrupted them, she said.

So, if we go by what she said. We can assume she doesn't care about the Rebellion event. She's just happy that she gets to exist again. Back in 2015, the Madoka concept trailer.

The happiness Nagisa wants is not in Heaven. It doesn't exist there. So, when Homura to dragged Madoka down, she destroyed Madoka's "Heaven" where Nagisa lives. She now lives in reality again. Where she can eat cheese again and experience all the things she never got to experience. So, for her, what Homura did is something that actually goes for her favor. We love a selfish cheese loving character.

[paracosmicparadox]

So, I'm falling back into the FFXV kick, and I have decided that I disapprove of how little complex character development Square Enix has given the guys?? Like where is the emotional depth beyond surface-level cutscene angst?? So I took matters into my own hands and have compiled a handy little list of headcanons / expanded canons that I think make sense.

Noctis: Has clinical insomnia and frequent lucid dreams (sorta a given, but bear w me bear w me)

Feels the weight of having to take so much on from such a young age much, much more than he lets on

Loves to argue

Would've been happier if he and Luna stayed as childhood best-buds rather than betrothed fiancés (controversial, ik, but it just didn't seem like he cared that much for her romantically to me?? Like he obviously cared about her, but it seemed like a really strong penpal vibe rather than a "We're-gonna-get-married-and-be-the-next-hotshot-couple" vibe. If you disagree, coolio, I'm not gonna debate w you on this one)

Has a natural sadness to his eyes regardless of what he's feeling

Went through an anime phase (possibly still in his anime phase, idk)

Social anxiety for the win

Severe RBF

Prefers tea over coffee (black tea is best---particularly lavender earl grey)

Can play the cello (practicing tho?? Don't know her)

Writes the most beautiful poetry when The Motivation™ strikes him (usually when he's home sick and half-delirious)

Prompto: Has ADHD and clinical anxiety, but is undiagnosed and doesn't take any meds for either of them.

Is legit like SO SMART, but can never focus, so not many people take any notice

Wears contact lenses (he had glasses as a child and I refuse to believe he had some high-tech corrective surgery to eliminate the need for them when lenses are cheaper and less risky)

Doesn't drink caffeine because it makes him jittery

Doesn't drive the Regalia when the guys are around because having other people in the car distracts him from the road. Also he tends to drive like a speed demon, which worries Ignis to no end.

Sunburns insanely easily

Could legit become a hitman if he wanted to with the amount of gun-knowledge he has. It doesn't matter what firearm you put in this boy's hand---pistol, SMG, sniper, rocket launcher, you name it. He can and will hit the target every single time.

Addicted to adrenaline

Pansexual

Has a lot of self-loathing (we see a bit of this in Ep. Prompto) and talks with an online therapist about it via text whenever his lows hit him. He's making great progress in learning how to heal and how to accept himself for who he is beyond the mask he wears for others

Ignis: More than a little bit of a control freak, and works very hard not to be too overbearing or critical about his friends' misgivings

Hypochondriac

Wants to protect everyone all the time and mentally kicks himself when he doesn't get there fast enough

Is SO PROUD of Noctis's journey and felt a stronger hatred towards Ardyn than anyone else in the group for what he forced Noct to go through (he stayed up at night sick to his stomach with hollow rage and baked nonstop to take his mind off of it)

Can verbally obliterate a man, but only rarely chooses to do so bc he's classy like that

After losing his eyes, he notices so much more beauty in the world than he used to (the sound of rain on the Regalia's roof, the specific gait of each of his friends, the smell of salt on the wind in Galdin Quay, the flawless feel of one specific silk tie he has in his repertoire, etc)

His internal compass is never wrong

Regularly takes antacids for his stomach

Has the straightest teeth you've ever seen

Demiromantic

Gladio: Hates being wrong: it's his way or the highway

Actually so much smarter than the musclehead jock front he puts up

A little vain and easily jealous (this man has a Jealous Face like no other)

Thunderstorms are his favorite; his ideal place to be is at a campsite, during a storm, with a well-worn book and a mug of Irish coffee in hand

Would throw himself in front of a bus for any one of his friends

Would beat up kids for the folks he cared about in middle school and spent the time he wasn't training to be a Crownsguard sitting in detention with the most unrepentant, smug, and-I'd-do-it-again look scrawled across his face

Can make a better smoothie than anyone (except maybe Iggy)

Spotify junkie

Had a dinosaur phase as a kid and can still name random facts about them whenever the opportunity presents itself

Avid technology-hater and only has a phone to make calls and join the others in playing King's Knight since they begged him so profoundly (he's sure the thing's going to be his downfall)

Gets most of Prompto's pop culture references

[occasionally-victor]

bwaah ghost au spiderbit; you can see i kinda lost motivation on this one a bit lmao welp

in this au people that die peacefully leave like. normal ghosts. the "transparent floating person maybe with some quirk" type of ghosts. idk whether make them move on to some Otherside or are they just still hang out in normal world - probably a bit of both (alive people usually can't see those tho). the people who die from some sort of cruel death or at the moment of death have A Lot™ of negative emotions? their ghosts are Fucked Up and Kinda Dangerous™ and less person looking. the nature of it is Unknown™, but those ghosts considered "cursed" - which entails that the curse can be lifted and the ghost can be granted peace. those ghosts behaviour is in fact totally targeted towards ridding themselves of that curse HOWEVER it's usually slow. have i mentioned those ghosts are Fucked Up and Kinda Dangerous™? yadda yadda there are people who specialise in helping those ghosts get rid of their "curse" because otherwise they can do a lot of damage before doing it themselves.

this au was kinda born after thinking what would the actual ghosts of cubitos look like, and then deciding to just make a seperate thing from it

!roier was still abducted, but here it's by some fucked up people who wanted to experiment on humans - he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. take a wild guess how he dies (idk body gave up after weeks of horrifying experiments or something). ghost!roier is surprisingly Not That Dangerous™ - mostly scares encountered people and also seems to bring the rat infestation to every house he is seen in. barely floats, in general looks like a walking corpse that slightly glows, rarely seen on street as seems to hate light (most of it, at least), rats do follow him a lot. doesn't seem to talk and in general also feels constant sickness and disorientation. moves between places a lot, so not many actually seen him. the commonly used name in reports is "Blinded man" (as his eyes are very much hidden behind the cloth constantly)

spiderbit were very much married in this au and well, you could have guessed, !cellbit didn't take the news well at all (authorities eventually found whatever that underground lab was and yknow the bodies). mans left his work at flower shop, became basically a complete shut in and then one day theirhis apartment was on fire. the fire part actually nor because someone set it in fire or whatever - it's because some ghost can be "born" uhh with very real impact on normal world let's just say, and in this case the very first thing ghost!cellbit did was to set the place on fire👍 not cool, because the fire was white, which is very notoriously very hot actually (the whole thing was brief tho - the only thing affected was the apartment) (the cause of death is very much grief induced heart attack btw). the heat from ghost doesn't appear right until the flames themselves are touched - while the burn itself is nonexistent, the pain is very much is. moderately aggressive, seems to have a soft spot for kids (as in, avoids them and in general seems calmer around them). often noticed around various flower shops and other flower related placed (looking for something?) - in a places where his sightings were reported often found ashes of already burn flowers (a specific flower does seem to be burnt much less tho-) (flowers actually can completely distract him - seems to be stuck in place until they finish burning - ideally not be there when that happens). the blood is real, but it vaporises before it hits the ground most of the time. the common name in reports is "Whiteflame ghost"

the way to lift their curse is for ghosts be reunited - the nature of their curse does kinda force them to be "physically" inseparable as to not return to their cursed selves, but it's not like an issue for them at this point.

will i ever expand this au? probably not tbh, but maybe.

[teruuu]

Exploring The Complexities of The Lamb and Narinder’s Relationship

Long post warningsgsgsgsgsh!!!!!! 🥺🥺

For those of you who want a quick rundown of what the AU’s about, check out the link at the bottom of the post.

Warning: Mentions of Cannibalism, Unhealthy & Obsessive Relationships, and Spoilers for The Art of Acquiring Devotion

Now, firstly, I’ll have to give my thanks to @nimbudcat for providing me with ideas as to how the relationship would function and opening the gateway for me to fully explore all the nooks and crannies of their romance.

I’m no expert on the deep complexities of toxic relationships, so I don’t have the courage to fully label the Lamb and Narinder’s love as ‘toxic’, but I know damn well that it’s not a normal love at all. Let’s think—what is a normal, healthy relationship composed of? Trust, of course. Mutual love and trust, absolute honesty... Those are the most basic building blocks of a healthy relationship. In this AU, for Narinder and Lamb, those concepts are extremely warped. They have all of those components in their relationship, but it’s so twisted that it’s difficult for me to define their romance as either healthy or unhealthy.

Narinder and Lamb trust each other, and it runs so deep that the best descriptor for that trust is pure devotion. They trust each other with their lives. This may not make sense since they are immortals, but think about it—the cannibalism that they inflict upon one another results in death for the two, each and every time, and they trust only one another for their resurrections. They allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves only to one another, and this is so incredibly meaningful because of all the aspects of their pasts. They trust themselves of course to always only tell the truth to each other, and the love that they share is simply reverent.

Now, let me elaborate on why all the things I expanded on above mean so much. Let’s start with the Lamb. I as I said in my previous post, the Lamb’s past for this AU is derived from my fanfic. We don’t know much at all about pre-sacrifice Lamb in-game, so I took the liberties to expand on their world myself. I’ll allow some passages from my fanfic to speak for itself:

It was through these traumatic experiences that the Lamb became hungry at the thought of companionship. No, the Lamb doesn’t just want some of Narinder’s Big Fluffy Gyatt™. As I’ve depicted in my other artworks, in this AU the Lamb considers Narinder as their savior, their one and only salvation, and perhaps the only person that has ever cared about them. And this is where things start to get murky—it’s because of this that the Lamb is so incredibly attached to Narinder and is absolutely insane about him.

The Lamb isn’t just attached, actually. They’re obsessed with Narinder. So obsessed that they develop a panic if they don’t hear his voice after more than half an hour. So obsessed that they begin to see any and all followers that interact with him as an enemy. This is also why I hesitate to consider this as toxic, because, see, Narinder likes it.

Moving on to Narinder’s part of the AU, it’s important to understand that, although he pretty much brought it to himself because of his high and mighty behavior, he was also quite isolated in his earlier years.

For Narinder’s side, he firmly believed himself to always be in the right. Think of it as a mad scientist whose ideas are way ahead of his generation. He had innovative thoughts and concepts in mind in the duration of his reign. He’d been supplemented by the knowledge that Shamura had provided him with, and that caused him to possess the mind of a radical inventor. Unfortunately, his ideas were less than desirable for the rest of his siblings and his own followers, so little by little the worship he received dwindled. Narinder was frustrated by this—why couldn’t anyone see the genius that he had to offer? Initially he had good intentions in mind, but he grew a tyrannical mind and eventually decided that the only way for the world to see his wonders is to force it beneath his feet.

Eons of imprisonment provided no aid for his mind. What once was a head full of wonders that could potentially change the world for the better became a twisted and cruel version of itself. Violence and revenge plagued his mind, and it became his one and only obsession. So, when the Lamb came to him, he relished in the worship they had to offer.

Their devotion for one another is purely mutual, but at the same time fully in their own self-interests. The Lamb is devoted to Narinder because Narinder is all that they care about in their mind, and they desperately require Narinder for them to continue living on. As for Narinder, he had never acquired such a passionate follower before, and he grew an addiction for the love that they have to offer. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.

They are incredibly violent for one another because that’s all they know. They don’t understand what it’s like to have a normal relationship. They cling to one another, kill for one another, and eat one another because they need each other so badly. The cannibalism is an expression of their eager desire to simply blend into one another because that’s just how much they want the other.

They know it’s wrong. They hate that it’s wrong. They hate each other for making each other feel so wrong and so crazy. But they so, so want it to be right.

(Okay sorry for the bad essay lmao adios)

*** Gang yall gotta help me make a name for this AU. I’m absolute dog shit at picking names (I mean just look at my fanfic title 😭) so I’m leaving it up to the pros to give me ideas 💪🏼 ***

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey! Enjoyed your deep dive into Antoinette. You mentioned two interesting topics I’m curious to know about, the selected make up and your doubts that the hotel scene actually happened the way it did. Would you mind expanding on those two topics? Thank you!

Hey!

Glad you liked!

Soooo while Antoinette is mortal she looks alluring (or is told to be alluring), and unchanged. This is an expression of the vampires finding all mortals beautiful, which is book canon. She is "The Mistress™", so she is this beautiful thing that draws Lestat away (albeit with a flat ass, as Claudia denotes^^).

However, as soon as she's actually turned (and loses her "mortal" appeal)... that changes:

Very strong wrinkles at the eyes suddenly. If you zoom in in the show you can see the applied texture.

I always found this detail very interesting, because this is explicitly applied makeup. It means that either Louis' view of her completely changed... or Louis did not quite witness the years that went by as changes in her body.

I tend to lean towards a mix of these possibilities, not only because it is book canon, but also because this happened with Grace as well:

No wrinkles, she looks a bit older maybe, but she looks beautiful. This is about 30 years later, but time did not really touch her. Because she looked beautiful to Louis.

Now, in Antoinette's case I also think that... maybe the hotel scene did not happen, actually.

There's a lot that ties into this speculation, so please bear with me:

The finger

Antoinette's hand is bloody after the fight, and the glove is off. Someone, Claudia, likely, has taken her finger - maybe again.

Episode 6, hotel:

Episode 7, pre incinerator:

Like... they are not the same. That's not the same wound. (For a show with these kind of details I do not think this is an accident.) I theorized for my fanfic and in the ask here that maybe Lestat had replaced it (he's older, and he knows that limbs etc can be replaced), and that Claudia took it off again because she was (rightfully) furious at the deception, but...

Claudia likes souvenirs. She takes a lot of souvenirs. Body parts. Fingers. Jewelry. That is not the same wound. I think by now, and I align with @virginiaisforvampires here, who wrote about this just earlier, that Lestat maybe never cut off Antoinette's finger, but decided to (maybe) deceive Louis and Claudia instead. When Claudia noticed during "murder night", that obviously must have made her angry, and she took what she thought was hers (and again, she likes taking souvenirs in any case).

2. Ponchatoula

Supposedly Antoinette is "stashed away in a hotel in Ponchatoula".

Now, Ponchatoula...

1h minimum with a car. More so then. Claudia and Louis cannot fly.

Which obviously does not make this impossible, don't get me wrong here. But another thing about cars comes into play then, if Claudia and Louis really went and drove to Ponchatoula, to stand outside of Lestat's hotel room, without him knowing, and them seeing somehow inside, without Lestat and Antoinette noticing. And they are both shown not to have been able to look inside from their viewpoint, which means they could not have been able to see the finger! (Or the neck wounds for that matter.) All they would have been able to witness are the sounds.

Here is the "car post". In very short, there is no way that a powerful vampire like Lestat would not have known that Claudia and Louis would draw near. No way.

Which means... either he gave a performance there (knowing they were there), or... that scene never happened.

I think Claudia told Louis, and Louis... extrapolated in his tale to Daniel. OR he believes it happened, or was made to believe it happened. I shared an interview with Jacob just yesterday where he said that Louis... "Louis believes that a lot of this is the truth. There are other things that he knows deep down are not true. He has to tell himself a version of it in order to cope."

Now, we know they said "all of it" would be revisited.

I'm not sure they will revisit this scene explicitly, but even if they do not... *shrugs*

3. The walk

Now, this is of course circumstantial.

But Louis and Claudia walking, in NOLA, and Claudia apologizing to Louis for showing him? If this is supposed to be right after, why didn't they talk in Ponchatoula? Why didn't they talk on the drive back? They went back to Rue Royale, parked the car, and then went out for a walk and then talked about it, approx. 90 minutes later?

It just doesn't make sense to me the way it is presented.

However, it does make sense if you remember that Louis wants to protect Claudia, wants to protect her image. He wants to keep her in mind as his daughter, and not as the vicious killer, the serial killing vampire who took souvenirs and liked to collect last words. Liked to kill indiscriminately, children, dogs, whoever. Adding to that the way this show is set up, and the way Louis seems to have been influenced...

I think that Claudia told him, and Louis knew Antoinette was somewhere in a hotel (given the hate-sex scene was at her house that in and by itself is interesting, too!). I think that walk happened in a similar fashion as shown, but not the same.

But I don't think Louis ever saw that finger (stump). He expected it to be there though, because Lestat had brought them a burnt finger.

And so all of this is shown to us as he tells it. Probably as he remembers it, right now.

"Let the tale seduce you", right?

We'll see how it will fit together after season 2^^.

[cinnamonest]

hi lena ^_^ i saw your post about twst and i wanted to ask your thoughts on floyd *_* specifically regarding his mood swings + sadism and how you think he'd be as a yandere.. i honestly pray for his darling bc even normal floyd is terrifying

MY BOY I've had an idea for him for a while now and I'm glad to share it so ty <33333

On a soft (? sorta?) note he is absolutely the "I don't understand what this feeling is and how to express it to you and am confused and mad about it and I want to be around you but don't want to be vulnerable so I am just going to be a Menace™" type of boy. I LOVE the thought of him dealing with feelings bc I feel like the moment he has to handle something that actually makes him nervous and Feel Things he just... bluescreens, like eel.exe has stopped responding, he has one way and one way only of doing literally anything and now suddenly he has a fragile situation and he actually tries his best to do things "correctly" because he wants you to like him but at the same time it makes him vulnerable and he Does Not Like That At All.

As to how there's a female at the all-male school... use y'all's imagination I forgot to come up with something 😅A similar situation to the prefect maybe

Notes/Warnings: fem reader, VERY dubious consent that's basically just noncon, Jade taking being an enabler to another level, in fact Jade + Azul are just as bad if not worse here, a bit of canon divergence bc I expanded/extrapolated/exaggerated the limitations and capabilities of Azul's spell for plot purposes, biting (blood involved bc have you seen this boy's teeth), sadistic tendencies, consumption of fluids on his end, mentions of avoiding impregnation, Floyd being an entity of chaos and a creepy selfish little bastard all around

------------------------------

He has two major issues.

One, he doesn't understand his own feelings very well, can't recognize them for what they are, and this becomes a source of frustration.

Two, even if he does come to understand, he can only express himself in the worst of ways. He's surprisingly somewhat... uncomfortable with it. After all, he's not someone who usually cares a lot about the opinions of others, so he's not used to wanting someone to like him.

And consequently, for someone normally so blunt and transparent, the concept of romantic love is something so out of his comfort zone, so foreign and uncertain and vulnerable, that it's one of a few times he's ever felt embarrassed over something, although he does hide it well.

That self-direction frustration and confusion comes a bit later on, but not at first. No, initially, he just does what comes naturally to him. He's not someone that really puts too much thought into what he does or why, just acts on urge and impulse. Nor does he think about the implications of those impulses and urges, what the desire to do this or that means. He just does what he feels like in the moment, and does so without hesitation or consideration. Usually, that entails being a pest to whoever is the most entertaining to get reactions out of.

And as for you, you're entertaining. Perhaps predictably, he quickly becomes a thorn in your side, from the first unfortunate interaction you have, an unpleasant occurrence in which he happened to sit beside you on the first day of a class and quickly learned you were amusing to annoy all throughout. He's always been that kid that entertains himself by making constructs out of materials available to him.

Unfortunately for you, the universe has decided to gift him with the most valuable possible material to such a person: a rubber band. About fifteen minutes into class, he's constructed some catapult-esque contraption out of pencils, a paperclip, and said rubber band, puts an eraser into it, and sends it flinging a short distance -- which just so happens to be directly onto you hand, causing your highlighter to skid across the paper. You narrow your eyes into a glare, and harshly set it back on his section of the desk.

As it turns out, expressing your annoyance was a mistake. The same thing repeats itself. The bastard has a dumb smile plastered on his face about it this time. Your eye twitches as you shove it back on him again. The process repeats again before the class is over.

He learns the things that irk you quickly. Especially if he runs off with things that belong to you, or tries to look over your shoulder and read whatever's on your phone or your notes. He quickly singles in on you as an ideal target.

But there's something different about your reactions, something that sets apart the feeling from other people.

Usually, he doesn't really mind when people get annoyed or mad. Depending on the situation, he might get irritated in return, but whether or not the reaction is enjoyable depends on the individual and situation. Annoying people is always fun, but whether or not it's fun to get the person really mad depends on that person. Pure anger is only funny from a handful of people, namely Rosehearts and a couple of the teachers. A lot of people get too serious when they're mad, so it's not as fun. It's much more amusing when there's panic with it, when he has the upper hand over someone in some way, or if the person is too tiny (at least compared to him) or weak or some other trait for him to take them seriously (that's what you fall into).

But you -- when you're annoyed, when you glare, when you spoke to him through clenched teeth that first day in class - hey, knock it off! - it was amusing, yeah, but there's also a different feeling too, something like... irritation. It feels bad, even though the amusing part feels good. And it makes him feel some pang of an unpleasant sensation, makes him upset. He likes making you mad, and yet there's something about doing so that he doesn't like, too, some unpleasant emotion that always accompanies the good, amusing feeling. It's quickly addictive. He starts acting on impulse more and more with each class period you have together.

So, he didn't really think about it. You wouldn't let him look over your shoulder at what you're writing, cast a glare again? Well, that's fine. He just grabs your notebook as you're packing up, and takes it with him.

Wha-- hey... HEY! That's mine!

You chase after him, but it doesn't do you any good, he's got long legs and can get away long before you stand a chance of catching up. You have no choice but to go on the rest of your day without it. You would have reported an incident of harassment or theft or whatever other term you could come up with to complain to the school administration about, but later that same day, he comes to your dorm's common area, calling out to ask if someone by the name of (your name) is present, holding it out to give it back. Based on what you know of the guy, you're a bit shocked he would come back himself.

Or so you think. You glare and rip it out of his hands, giving a few choice words before you realize how upright and poised he seems to be now, quiet, a neutral but pleasant expression rather than the lazy, bored one he has throughout class. He tilts his head.

I apologize. You seem to be unaware...

After explaining the difference between the two (much to your shocked expression, and ignoring your attempts to stutter out an apology), Jade reassures you he only came to return it after asking his brother how a notebook with a stranger's name on it ended up on the floor of their room (is this normal enough behavior that his first guess was that it was stolen...?). He reassures you that you can direct 'any future issues or altercations' to him, and implores you to forget the incident.

Well... he was so polite, and you feel really embarrassed and guilty for chewing him out when it turns out you had the wrong guy. You tell yourself you can let this singular incident slide. You make a mental note to avoid both individuals from that point forward.

Which, as it turns out, is not exactly easy. You get to your class early in hopes of snagging a seat in between two people, but that fails, and he ends up beside you again. Acts as if nothing happened. Just slouches over, asks in a lazy tone of voice to borrow a pen. It makes you sort of snap at him.

Oh, you want to steal that from me too?

...Eh? I didn't steal nothing from you... you got it back, yeah? It's right there on your desk. I just borrowed it a while.

You grind your teeth. At further pestering, you hand over your least-valued pen, making him swear to return it to you by the end of the class period. Not that the precious ink is being put to any good use, no. You take a glance over while the lecture drones on, but he's just scribbling onto a sheet of notebook paper. At least he does give it back.

It quickly becomes a cycle with each class. When a quiz day comes along, he rather blatantly leans his entire body to the side for several seconds, scanning your paper before copying your answers. It infuriates you, but you tell yourself it's not worth the trouble. You figure maybe he's the type that will leave you alone if you just keep ignoring him, probably will stop finding you fun to mess with if you don't give him attention.

Except that's difficult to do. If you don't give said attention, he pesters you until you do.

Hey.

You stay quiet. Just ignore him, just ignore him... so you tell yourself.

Hey.

You try. You try very hard.

Hey. Hey, hey.

You get taps on the shoulder that time. You turn your head, narrow your eyes, hiss out a whisper. What?!

It's never anything important, usually pointing out something amusing -- a crude drawing left in a textbook from a student of years past, that guy over there fell asleep on his desk and looks really funny, the prefect's cat got up and started wandering around. Never anything important.

And then, just when you thought that was bad enough, you go to a different class, one where you have your seating assigned to you, only to find out that it's been rearranged. And guess who you get put next to? It feels like some sort of joke from a higher power. Now you have to deal with him for over two hours a day. He doesn't seem to mind, though.

You aren't sure how you expressing blatant irritation at his every word could have possibly given the boy the impression that you were friends or anything, but for whatever reason, he starts to seek you out outside of classes. At lunch, in classes, in passing in the halls. When you think back, you're not certain exactly when or with what it started, it just seems to happen so quickly and subtly it becomes a part of your daily life without even noticing until you're too deep into the daily ritual to back out. It's almost never a pleasant interaction, it's always to inconvenience you in some way, or just to ask you stupid questions in that grating sort of whiny voice he gets whenever perturbed.

What're you reading?

Snatches it out of your hands. This is really boring, you really read this? Like, for fun? You have bad taste... hey, stop trying to grab it, he's still looking at it. As time goes on, and if he's in a particular sort of mood, you may be humiliatingly jumping up and down in an attempt to get it while he holds it up over your head. Until, eventually, he suddenly stops, seemingly losing all interest in the torment, handing it back to you and walking off, sometimes without a word. Other times you'll be trying to work on something, only for a shadow to appear over you and your work.

Mm? What is that?

You remind him it's the homework that's due in a couple of hours. He replies, with no sense of urgency, that oh, I forgot about that. Tries to talk to you about something else. You give curt, short answers, very clearly communicating a not-subtle 'go away,' but even if he catches the hint, he doesn't act upon it. Just sits there, keeps asking pestering, pointless questions, before abruptly standing up and leaving whenever he feels like it. He gives you some dumb nickname that makes your skin crawl, but after telling him not to call you that, he just does so more. It starts with questions that wouldn't be so bad if not for the perpetual poor timing and coming from him, but often turn outright rude.

What class do you have after this one?

Why'd you get sorted into that dorm? They're all so boring...

Home come you're so uptight all the time? Don't you ever do anything fun?

And no matter how blatant the irritation and annoyance in your voice is when you reply, it doesn't deter him from continuing. If you're not paying enough attention to him, he can just take whatever you're looking at out of your hands. If you try to get up and leave, he just follow behind you, only finally leaving when he loses interest, and no sooner.

For everyone else, though, it's sort of a blessing. He's focused all his attention on you, so the normal victims of his tendencies and antics are left alone and unbothered, with you receiving the same annoyance and pestering and presence usually spread out across multiple others. He's even absent from the lounge quite a bit when he shouldn't be.

But for you, it starts to make you paranoid. You find yourself looking around all the time, unable to really relax whenever you're in open areas public to the student body, like the cafeteria and library and the like. You start to just study and work in your room much more often. You try once more to get to class early so you can find a seat in between two others, so he can't sit next to you, which does work every now and then (much to the visible displeasure on his face). But every time you see him, he's right back to being annoying. You don't know why, and you know you've made it more than clear that you'd rather not have him around.

So, you simply begin to avoid him more intensely. The class seating arrangement is not really fixable, but now you pack up and bolt out the door as soon as it's over, and don't linger in the slightest, try to get away before he can even follow you out. You work exclusively in your room, or areas limited to your dorm's students. You avoid him whenever possible during school hours, too. Which isn't too hard, as he's so tall that you can generally pick him out of a crowd and see him from a good distance away. You make sure to keep as great of a distance as possible between the two of you, and if you notice him coming towards you, you try your best to get away. Sometimes, inevitably, you still fail. Your eyes meet, you see him perk up and make his way over to you, and you fail to get away fast enough before a hand grabs the collar of your uniform and pulls you back. Hey... where're you trying to go...?

And it's not as if he's unaware that you're avoiding him.

No, in truth, he's very aware he's annoying you. He's realized that from the beginning, hell, it was intentional, he was trying to do so, after all. But he's aware that it's not just annoying you in a temporary way that's fun for him (although that's often true as well), but also that he's actively making you dislike him. He keeps digging the hole deeper and deeper and making you hate him but he can't stop.

See, he knows no other way to interact with you. Messing with you and terrorizing you on a daily basis is just the default way he interacts with virtually everyone. It's what comes naturally. And normally, people being wary of him and a bit uneasy around him is fine by him, amusing even. The only people he really cares about are his brother and Azul, and both of them are essentially immune to his ways to an extent. Thus, he's never had to learn to interact with others in a positive, normal way. He wants to be around you, but the only way he can manage do that is one that makes you not want to be around him. The way he is just kind of... comes out, without making an intentional effort to be that way. This gradually begins to create a great deal of negative emotion in him.

Especially seeing as he doesn't really get it to begin with. He's perceptive of you to an extent, but he's not all that self-aware, he doesn't understand the feeling itself, just knows the urges are there -- the urge to be around you, talk to you, follow you around. Mess with you and watch you squirm. He doesn't like that following the urges is resulting in your disdain the way it is. Someone avoiding him has never made him frustrated like it does now. Normally, he really couldn't care less what others think of him, so he doesn't put others' perception or esteem of him into consideration when acting. His lack of concern for this is pretty obvious in his attitude, too.

But the thing is, he does care, when it comes to you, how he's perceived. And that's a new, foreign feeling. Everything you cause him to feel is very new and foreign. It's a lot of strange feelings he doesn't understand, and is very frustrated about not understanding.

Not that he doesn't still enjoy antagonizing you. No, he greatly enjoys getting reactions from you, startling you, stealing things from you, making you mad or upset, seeing you jump to try and get your things back.

It's difficult to explain (largely because it's nonsensical), but he basically wants to terrorize your life and ruin your day, over and over, but he  wants you to be a willing participant in the cycle, rather than avoiding him or running away. For you to allow it... well, no, just allowing it and being unaffected would be boring. He wants you to be upset and mad, but to not avoid what makes you upset. To be bothered, but to... enjoy being upset. For you to like it and dislike it at the same time.

Of course, the problem lies in the fact that this is simply not the logical course of action any normal person would take. He does upset you and he does annoy you, so, like anyone would do, you avoid him.

The thing is, he sometimes comes to you with genuine intent, just wanting to ask a question or something similar. He's done so a few times in the past, just sees you and follows the impulse to approach you and start talking. On those occasions, he's not really all that unpleasant, just asks what you're doing and where you're headed, but to you, you automatically assume it's just a precursor to doing something to upset you. The way he looms over you and stares down at you certainly doesn't help diminish the intimidation, even if he's not trying to be intimidating. Granted, that too would likely turn into something less pleasant, but he's still trying to strike up a genuine conversation. Thus, when you still frantically try to get away on those occasions, it upsets him even more than when you do so normally. Even though he's just trying to talk to you, even though he didn't do anything wrong, you still stiffen up, look to the ground, give a quick answer and go running off and away. It feels irritating.

What gives?

He gets that sort of irritated, whining tone, that furrowed eyebrows and slight scowl to his face, even though he's just muttering to himself. You're way overreacting... he's trying to be nice this time and you're still running away when you see him? What do you have to go and do that for? Why do you act like he's gonna do something bad? What has he ever done to deserve you being so cold as to turn off and run before he can even get a word out? Ugh.

The scowl persists as he makes his way back home. He's petulant when he's in a bad mood. Doesn't want to help at the lounge... even him coming up to you just now was after he went off on his own when he was supposed to be there, leading to a serious staffing confusion and the lounge going unmanned for a solid half hour. Not that his mood swings haven't led to him abandoning responsibilities before, but he usually has at least some consideration as to not outright leave on the rare occasion he's been needed to run things alone while the others are busy.

When questioned on the matter, he just shrugs.

I didn't feel like it.

But it's said not in that usual dismissive, lazy tone of his, but rather, a very obviously bitter voice. And, quite childishly, he doesn't respond well to asked as to what's wrong. Of course, there's a certain embarrassment to liking someone that way. His subconscious knows that, but he doesn't consciously know why that burning feeling is there. Thinking about it all makes him feel some feeling that's good and bad and exciting and dreadful and pulls him in and scares him away all at the same time and it's so, so incredibly frustrating.  Usually, if he's mad about something, he won't hesitate to complain and be very vocal about things that upset him, even when it would probably be best left unsaid. Now, though, at the probing of both Azul and his twin, he's very clearly upset, but gives uncharacteristically curt, cold replies when asked what's causing his poor mood.

Nothin'.

But those questions aren't being asked out of genuine curiosity, either, more just to see if it'll help him to talk about it.

They already know. Floyd is not the most perceptive of his own self, but that doesn't mean that Jade and Azul aren't already perfectly well aware of exactly what the issue is. They keep enough of an eye on him to have seen him around, always trailing you, always sulking after you run off, they've seen how his mood has gotten worse and worse with time, and both connect the dots more or less immediately.

They don't really know what to do, though. The situation leaves the both of them at a loss. They certainly do discuss the matter to each other, whenever Floyd is gone off to go hunting for you or sent to run errands or merely sulking off on his own, but have trouble coming up with what can really be done to resolve the problem. After all, it's... well, it's him. Him being the person that he is complicates literally any social situation he could ever possible be involved in. Initially, they tried to just redirect his attention back to something else, hoping he'd lose interest in you, but that didn't work.

Eventually, although it's more of a straightforward and potentially risky plan than either would have liked, they do come up with something akin to a solution. Nothing covert, nothing manipulative or underhanded, rather, incredibly direct and transparent, at least towards you.

You're looking down at your notes, so you have your head tilted down when you're approached, have your name called out to you. That's a bit startling, as you didn't hear anyone approach, and you're sitting by yourself after classes have ended for the day... but it's far more startling when you tilt your head up to the speaker, and nearly have a heart attack, stiffening and starting to stand up before you recognize that oh, it's the *other* one.

Jade is as eerily polite as always. Apologizes for startling you, standing in that stiff and unmoving way that makes your skin crawl. He says he simply has a proposition that would be potentially beneficial to you, in exchange for helping him with a problem. You warily ask for some elaboration.

He doesn't beat around the bush or waste any time building up to the offer. It's very simple. Your avoidance of his brother, who is fond of you, puts him in a poor mood, which negatively affects those around him. You, for a negotiable weekly sum, will abide by the following loose terms: stop avoiding him as you do, be pleasant towards him, entertain his ways, and generally gives him what he wants. Interventions and help for problems that may arise can be discussed. Name a price.

You're taken aback at first, left blinking, wide-eyed and silent. Even if it weren't such a bizarre thing to be asked, the suddenness with which you're hit with the information takes a moment to register.

What?

But after the offer is repeated to you (calmly, as if saying nothing out of the ordinary), and you fully process it, you scoff.

Are you serious?

But he doesn't miss a beat.

Entirely. You go to protest, but he speaks again before you can. He tends to lose interest in things very quickly, as I'm sure you're aware. It would most likely only be for a short time.

A few moments of silence pass between the two of you. You roll your eyes, lean back in your seat, and think of an outrageous price, hopefully to deter him, making sure to add a sardonic tone to be clear it's not serious. Twenty-thousand thaumarks a week.

But instead of sighing or making a displeased expression, he just nods.

Accepted. Please, sign this.

You sputter and stiffen. A paper is set on the desk, a pen set down to your side. Right, these people are obsessed with making all deals by written contracts, you've heard that mentioned before... still, the prospect is... You swallow, blink numbly, look back and forth between the paper and the eerie, unwavering smile above you. There's practically an essay written in tiny text on the paper, but you're not about to take the time to read all of that. Instead, you focus on the much-larger bullet points at the center of the paper, with your and Floyd's names handwritten into some of the brackets, to establish the primary points of the contract.

Do not flee when approached, and do not avoid the tertiary party [LEECH, F.] without reason outside of desire to do so.

Spend approximately, at minimum, three (3) hours per day outside of in-class time in each other's presence.

Behave generally pleasantly towards the tertiary party [LEECH, F.], avoid unnecessary cruelty or malice.

Abide by the tertiary party's will, and do not impede the tertiary party from doing as he wishes.

And beneath it all, there's a final piece of large print, bolded too, right before the designated signature line.

This contract will remain known exclusively to the primary [LEECH, J.; ASHENGROTTO, A.] and secondary [______] parties. No individuals outside of these parties, including the tertiary party [LEECH, F.] may be made aware of the existence of this contract nor the contents thereof.

Your nose scrunches. Of course the bastard would make it sound a lot better verbally, when the specifics are stricter... given all of this, the proposition would be incredibly annoying. Not to mention--

...What if I mess up just once? How do you even know I'm doing it anyway?

The other twin doesn't seem to be bothered by the question.

I will not be able to watch your every move, so you are granted some leeway to make mild offenses, but if you continually violate the terms, or commit major violations...

His smile seems to widen, his eyes close.

I *will* know. I assure you.

His expression creeps you out. You shift in your seat. Your natural reaction, of course, is to immediately reject the idea. Besides, it's a golden scroll, made by the dorm's housewarden... that means it's magically bound, or something like that, and he can take some ability of yours away or something. But you, well, the housewarden has nothing against you, you've never actually interacted with the guy. Besides, your magical abilities are... not enviable, you'd admit. So whatever is taken can't be too useful to you. This is probably just the default way they do all contracts, you assume.

Nonetheless, you still don't like how shady the thought of magic being involved in the contract is.

...But that's a lot of money.

That's a LOT of money.

And he said it would be temporary, right? Even at the bottom of the contract, amidst a mountain of words, you spot in slightly larger print: ...until it can be mutually agreed upon by the primary and secondary party that the tertiary party has lost interest, at which point, the contract may be terminated without further effect or consequence.

With that in mind, it's basically just putting up with him for a month or two for a lot of money, right?

You clench your jaw, but your hand seems to move on its own. You just can't pass that up.  He snatches it back the moment you set the pen down.

Thank you for your cooperation. You will receive a transfer to your account by the end of the day.

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and start to ask about the specifics, you didn't read all that tiny print after all... but he's already out the door. You get the sense he left as fast as he could on purpose. You're not sure if there's anything else specific you're supposed to do, but if so, it's kinda his fault for not elaborating, you assume.

But as the day goes on, you get a dreadful feeling in your stomach. Maybe that wasn't a wise idea. You start to think of all the ways you can get out of this, consider walking over to Octavinelle just to try and cancel the deal... but... that is a lot of money. Even someone like him is tolerable with that much money on the line, right? You've already gotten used to his presence, so, you figure it won't be too bad. You just have to tolerate what you've already gotten used to, and you'll get paid for it. It's not like it can really get any worse.

Except it can.

It turns out, as awful as Floyd is when you're running away from him, it is indeed infinitely worse when you don't run.

At first, you figure he just has to be there, right? Jade never said you have to really pay him any mind. So you go about your tasks... for whatever amount of time you can.

He gets annoyed pretty quickly. Rips the thing you're doing out of your hands. What's this for? This looks boring...

If you're looking at something on your phone, likewise, he leans over, reads the screen of whatever app you're on. If it's social media - Who's that? That your family? - or if it's a game - what's that? What's that thing for? What are you supposed to do? - and if it's a website or text-based social app - what's that about? Which one is you? What're you talking about? - just zero respect for your privacy, trying to butt in on whatever you're doing. Most importantly, he very quickly decides it's boring and you should do something else, and will take the phone out of your hands if need be. It's like a child, his solution to getting your attention or getting you to do anything is always the same, directly grabbing whatever is in your hands and pulling it away so you're forced to either pay attention to him, or follow him in an attempt to get it back. It quickly becomes a habit of his that drives you up the wall.

Your agreement also means you now no longer try to run to class early to get a seat between two already-taken seats before he can get there, no. Now, he's following you all the time anyway, so you don't get the chance. And he doesn't exactly pay attention in class, as you've already learned. As time goes on, he gets more conversational rather than just the occasional interjection, acting as if class time is just a designated period for you two to whisper back and forth, seeming to not care whether or not you're trying to actually pay attention. Occasionally he'll use a paper (provided by you) and pen (also provided by you) to draw a tic-tac-toe board, which you usually actually do engage with, as it's a way to keep him quietly, non-disruptively entertained for a few minutes.

As agreed, once classes are over, you let him follow you for about three hours, usually to the library or the school store. Once that time is up, though, you say you have to study, and bid him farewell to go to your room. That's a valid reason, you assume, and it's not like Jade can watch you from the safety of your room, so it's not a violation even if you're actually just going back to nap.

There's never any "official" moment at which things become "a relationship." He never says anything of the sort, and neither do you — you agreed to tolerate it, but you're certainly not going to instigate that. Hell, you want to avoid him thinking it's something like that, even if you've slowly pieced together that that may be what he wants.

Or so you guess. That's the conclusion you come to, but he's not a person who makes sense to begin with. If that was what he wanted, it makes no sense for him to have acted the way he has either. You just try to not think about it, and deal with things as they happen.

He just gets more... comfortable. You were hoping that he would maybe get less intense with time, that he'd get bored as he so often does with other things, but it only seems to get worse. He sits closer to you whenever you're next to each other. When he trails behind you, the distance between you two has grown smaller and smaller, so much so that sometimes his shoes scuff against yours, your arms brush up against each other.

He finds you more frequently. It reaches a point where it's suffocating. It used to be that he would come find you to annoy you maybe once a day or so, but now, it's every opportunity. Somehow he manages to learn where you have classes and clubs, where you hang out after the day is over, and hunts you down at each one with eerie precision and accuracy, within minutes of leaving a room or sitting down. Sometimes he's waiting outside the door when you exit a class. Stays with you all day, for the remainder of the day, until you finally go back to your dorm.

He himself doesn't treat it as if it's strange or funny or anything. You almost get the sense he doesn't realize how abnormal it comes across as. Always just striking up conversation on whatever strikes him as important enough to address at the moment. Or, increasingly commonly as time goes on, and an indicator that he's going to be particularly annoying on that day: I'm bored.

You always sigh. But you have to be somewhat polite... well, what do you expect *me* to do about that...?

He'll shrug. Maybe say 'dunno.'

But that's when he starts to get nosey, mess with your things. Always flops down on the other side of where you're sitting, or beside you. Continues the habit of ripping things out of your hands (your biggest pet peeve with him, the most infuriating thing he does, and yet does it so often), feels the need to comment on them, moves on to mess with something else. All until it always ends the same way -- with your undivided attention being on him and exclusively him.

Hey, play a game with me.

Watch this video with me.

We're gonna go to the store, I wanna get something.

Always, always, doing whatever he wants. You have to learn to bite your tongue. It's worse than it ever was when he was just a pest in class. When you made the agreement with Jade, you were envisioning only dealing with what you were already accustomed to. You didn't think it would get more intense.

And another thing, you also didn't predict the repercussions of that when it comes to other people.

You wanted to hang out with your own friends, but since he tags along with you everywhere you go, you tried to maybe you could lug him along like a pet or something and hope he stayed quiet... but people know who he is, and most are a bit uneasy around him. He doesn't actually do anything bad -- he doesn't have to. He just sort of looks over at your group, making eye contact, and almost immediately one person suddenly conveniently has to leave. Then another, then another, and all of your friends have disbanded within a few minutes, and he didn't have to say a word. You sulk back to your dorm... you get the sense he's not at all unhappy, though. It just means more time by yourselves, after all.

People try and approach you, still, just to say hi, to ask a question. Plenty of times now, you've been sitting next to him in the library or on a bench in the outdoor area and someone will come up to you, waving and calling your name... only to stiffen. He just looks at them. Not a glare like a normal person would if upset, but that blank, wide-eyed, intense stare, eerie and ominous and more threatening than any glare, really. It drives people away within a minute of coming up to you, they usually stammer something about whatever they were going to approach you for, but get it out as quickly as they can before taking off in a different direction.

It's not the only issue with others, either. On the rare occasion you get to have a few minutes to talk with someone else, he always manages to show up, interrupts your conversations, coming up to you and talking right over the other person, pulling you away as if they weren't there.

One day, a rare occurrence takes place in which he actually was running late (some sort of issue at the lounge) and isn't with you when you arrive, nor is he already in the classroom by the time you get there. In his absence, some poor, poor new transfer student makes the mistake of sitting down beside you. You say nothing, not wanting to be rude... and besides, surely he'll let this one instance go, right? It's not that big of a deal.

You would be wrong. He comes walking up to his usual place, quiet and staring. There's a few moments of silence. You turn in your chair and are just about to say something when the poor kid is grabbed by the back of his shirt, hauled up into the air, carried a few steps over, and promptly dumped onto the ground. Floyd takes his usual place, the kid runs off, all without a word. He says nothing about it either, just starts talking. What's everyone looking through the book for? 's there a test today...?

You didn't say anything at the time, but that occurrence marks the moment you truly begin to realize you can't allow things to go on as they are.

So you tell yourself. You tell yourself you're going to do something. Over and over.

But the spending money is nice. You get a ton of things you wouldn't have otherwise. New stationery and notebooks for class, a new phone, some expensive memory cards, so on and so on. You blow through it pretty fast... even though you tried to tell yourself to save some of it. Honestly, you often end up making an unnecessary purchase as a reward to yourself after a particularly energy-draining day of dealing with Floyd. It's what keeps you going, really. Until this is over.

It's only one day, upon thinking that, that you realize something. It's been months since you started enduring all this, and yet, unlike the prediction you were given, he shows no signs of "losing interest."

That's worrying. You only agreed under the belief it would be short-lived. There is absolutely no way you can endure this for the rest of the semester, let alone the year, or, God forbid, the rest of your school career. You'd go insane. You have to do something.

You consider going over and giving Floyd's twin a piece of your mind and telling him to forget it, plenty of times. But soon that isn't even an option, because you wouldn't have the time.

Because now, he starts following you back to your dorm. Like so many other things, it's never addressed, it goes unspoken. One day he just apparently decides that he's not going to follow you to the edge of your dorm and bid you goodbye for the day like usual, no, he just... keeps walking. Follows you into your dorm space without a word about the matter. At least he seems to be enjoying himself, saying something about how it's cool, asking what's that and that over there, so on and so on. It's only after you reach your room that he finally seems to take a hint and mutters something about seeing you tomorrow. You give a brief mm-hmm before closing the door to your room behind you, and sinking down to your knees in exhaustion. Great, now he knows where your room is.

It's only after a few minutes of sitting there, though, that you realize you haven't heard his footsteps walk away yet.

Is he just... standing...? No, you just... didn't hear it. You were lost in thought. So you tell yourself.

Meanwhile, he wonders why you haven't gotten up yet. Are you sitting on the floor? He can sort of see your shadow through the tiny crack of light at the bottom of the door.

He was kinda hoping to go inside. That's disappointing... sigh.

You're probably at that point, right? He's... not sure. He would think so. Is there some kind of factor determining whether or not it's okay for him to go in? Was he supposed to just walk in anyway? You probably wouldn't have minded, right? Should've done that. He's not familiar with any time frame where you're supposed to start going into each other's places, but he's like, ninety-nine percent sure you're there.

See, to him, he just assumes something must have changed somehow. More importantly, he is under the impression you are "together" in the relational sense.

At some point along the way, unlike he was initially, he's figured things out. Never said it out loud. He's usually not someone that's embarrassed easily, but the thought of this in particular is... it makes him uncomfortable in a way that's foreign to him. It's confusing.

But he does understand, now. Why being around you makes him feel like there's a weight on his chest, such a nervous and unpleasant feeling, yet why he keeps coming back to it, why such an unpleasant feeling can be so pleasant and addictive all the same. Even he, who has no former experience with the emotion, who has never even given the topic much thought, can only think about it for so long before putting the pieces together. He doesn't fight it, no, he's not the type to be in denial. He just sort of... accepts it. It is what it is.

Still, he's not good with this sort of thing. Doesn't really know a lot. Has never experienced it before. And that makes him uncomfortable, nervous even, below the surface of a composed exterior. He's never cared about what someone else thinks of him, has never wanted someone to like him.

And in truth, he's been somewhat nervously analyzing you all along. Again, he just... doesn't know of another way to interact with someone, than the way he does already. But this is the one time he's really really cared, so if there is some other way to interact with you, that's supposed to win you over, he'd want to know. Is there something special he's supposed to do?

Ugh. It's all so annoying. It makes him mad. It's made worse by the fact that the source of the negative emotion is a situation, a concept, his own feelings, not a person. Usually when he's mad, he can squeeze whoever's making him mad... he wants nothing more than to take the source of the anger, wrap his hands around its neck... but he can't, because there is no person at fault (well, he thought about doing that to you, but that made him feel weird in a different way that he doesn't get yet). But the emotion keeps boiling over, it's unbearable, he hates it.

Well, come tomorrow morning, the residents of your dorm will find one of their pieces of thematic decor snapped in half, but... yeah, no one saw it happen, so he'll just set the other half on the ground and find his way out. He kicks at the ground as he walks, deep in thought.

All of a sudden, you stopped running away so much. You still have an irritated expression sometimes, but maybe that's just how you are? That's how you always seem, and he's around you all the time, so that must just be your resting face. Otherwise, why would you be wearing that face whenever he's around you?

Whatever the reason, you clearly don't mind. So, that basically officiates it, doesn't it? No need to actually say anything or ever address it. That would be... something he doesn't know how to do. Something he can't afford to just do, as it doesn't come naturally. Something he won't do, can't do.

But that's normal, right? It happens all the time, people are together without every officially establishing it.

Instead, he just tests you. That makes sense to him. The desperation to have some sort of confirmation gives him the temporary confidence to go through with such a thing without hesitation.

You would never know he's uneasy. He comes across as just as uncaring and casual in the action as everything else he does. It's a very simple test, too: comes up to you after a class, gives you the usual what're you doing?, you exchange a few words, he sits down beside you like always.

Except this time, as you are acutely and immediately aware, he sits so close that your thighs touch.

A moment passes. You clench your teeth and stiffen. But, you're pretty sure this would fall under the technicalities of the contract, so, you bear it, and you say nothing.

...

...

...You didn't move.

Yeah, so, if you didn't view things between you two the same way he does, you would have moved. That basically confirms it, for him. Good to know. It's not solidified in his mind. Very relieving.

From that point forward, he starts to become more touchy. He always sits that way, so your legs touch, he starts to lean so that your arms touch too. Eventually he starts to just lean over, rest on you. The fact that you don't pull away is reassuring.

Nor is his tendency to grab at things limited to objects you're holding; even with you, he's grabby. You're going off in one direction, but he wants to go this way? He'll just grab you by the arm and pull you the preferred direction. He wants to get up and go somewhere else? He'll abruptly stand up, grab the collar of your shirt and pull you up. He has no issue interrupting you, far overstepping the boundaries of rudeness to prioritize you paying attention to what he wants. Even if you're listening to music or something, but he deems whatever he has to tell or show you as more important (which he always does), he'll just pull the earbuds out of your ears to interrupt and override whatever you're doing.

If you get a text, he'll often poke his head over your shoulder as he did before, but often now he'll just grab your phone and look at it himself. Hey, who's this? That's a newer aspect of his interruptive tendencies that begins to develop - he's always gotten nosey about who people are, but you notice he's much more intent on it now, no longer accepts one word answers like "my cousin" or "a friend" alone, but instead pries more and more, wanting to know how you know them, how often you talk to them, if they're a student here, and so on. It helps his case that he doesn't ask in an angry or nervous tone, instead maintains his usual casual, lax tone of voice... but even so, there's still an increasingly clear intensity to it, insistence. Namely because, on the few times you've tried to get around a question or avoid answering, he doesn't let it slide, and will ask the same thing again. Again, no anger or intense emotion, but something about the fact that he asks a second time, no matter how relaxed his face and voice may seem, gives you a sense of unease. Like it bothers him more than it would initially seem.

Once, you must have forgotten to lock your screen, because you come back after getting up to get a drink (insisting no, the machine is right over there, that he needs to just sit right there and not get up to follow) to him sitting there, scrolling through... your phone. Not trying to hide it; even when you stand there in slack-jawed disbelief at the audacity, he turns his gaze over to you for a moment before asking why you haven't sat back down yet. Notes that hey, you know, you really should optimize your phone settings, your battery's gonna drain faster the way it is now... and keeps scrolling. Even when you get over the disbelief and, momentarily forgetting your contract terms, start grabbing for it (that's my phone! Floyd, you can't -- you can't just -- ugh! Give it!) he just leans over and turns all around to avoid you snatching it back, continuing his curious browsing with an otherwise blank face, only smiling after finding something somewhat embarrassing, turning it back to you to tease you about it, which goes on for a few minutes before finally relenting.

It's too much. You barely manage to control your frustration. It's reached a point where the money isn't worth it, he's too annoying, he's driving you crazy, freaking you out, driving your friends away. You can't even remember the last time you had a conversation with anyone other than him. You tell yourself to take the first opportunity you get to seek Jade out again.

Which does come, one day, in an unexpected situation. A partnered project in the lecture section of the alchemy class you two are in, to be completed as part of the lab section. The professor begins reading off pairs of who works with who, but you realize the partners being assigned are based on just who sits next to each other. Unsurprisingly, then, your names are called as a pair. He seems pleased by it, making a comment about how you should make something cool-looking (the subject matter is destructive chemicals, so you're almost worried he might put a bit too much effort in...).

Not that that's too bad. You already spend all that time with him anyway... besides, you'd almost be afraid for the safety of your partner if it was anyone else. He might do something to them. You'd hate someone to get hurt because of you. You don't think much more of the matter, until suddenly, after school is over for the day, he abruptly stops, just as you pass by some of the doors leading to important administrative offices and, more notably, the school pharmacy.

I'm gonna go get something... wait here just a minute.

It immediately strikes you as odd that he doesn't have you go in with him. But frankly, your curiosity on that is immediately overshadowed by the sudden realization that, for once, you have a spare moment to yourself, during the daytime. His absence gives you an opportunity. Sure, he said he'd only be gone "a minute," but the temptation to be able to end things is too strong. It's not like it matters if you ditch him, since you'll be able to get rid of him permanently soon, right? You can cancel the contract, finish this project, tell him off and then never talk to him again. Be done with it all for good. It's more than you can handle. You chastise yourself for ever agreeing in the first place.

You practice a speech on the way to Octavinelle, run over the words over and over, but by the time you get there and make your way to the housewarden's office (you know full well he's in on it too, his name was on the contract after all) and barge through the doors, your mind goes blank.

Predictably, the housewarden and your tormentor's brother are both there, thankfully by themselves. Their eyes widen a bit, seeing you come in, but at the same time, it's more of an intrigue, merely catching attention by the suddenness of someone coming through the door. But they don't look surprised to see you. As if both knew it was only a matter of time before you'd be walking through those doors one day.

You try to not overthink, and just speak. Be direct and blunt.

I can't take it anymore.

It all comes unraveling out of your mouth all at once. I can't do this. It's wearing me down. I'm going insane. I can barely breathe. You ramble for several minutes, telling them just how far it's all gone and how you're at the end of your patience.

They listen attentively. Almost too much so. Glance back at each other, then back to you.

You are prepared to go through with the cancellation policy, then?

You take a few moments to reply.

...Huh?

Mechanically, without any effort to look for it, the housewarden pulls the paper out in a matter of seconds. Sets it on the table, pushes it in your direction.

The cancellation policy. It was on the contract that you signed.

There's a rising dread in your stomach. You don't like the faux-pleasantness on his face, the way he intertwines his fingers and rests his head on top of the conjoined hands. You squint downward.

In very tiny print, towards the middle of the page, it reads that cancellation of the contract would require complete reimbursement of all your payments up to the point of cancellation, in addition to 20% interest on those funds.

At this point, that would be... you try to compute it in your head, but the multiplication quickly becomes too high of numbers for you to do without the aid of a calculator. And contractual issues where the agreed deals aren't met... you've heard nightmare tales about students getting into that situation. Worked to the bone.

Still, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is to ask Azul to do exactly that.

So you'll just make me work for you? I... I can do that. Just-- I'll do work for--

No need. I would merely use control over you to have you go back to doing the same as you've been anyway. He tilts his head. It's more of a matter of whether you'll do it of your own will, or by force. He points to a specific line. And even if you break it, you'll continue to accumulate debt per week. More so, even, see here?

A different line, that reads: post-cancellation, the interest on the remaining debt will increase by 50% per week.

That's 70% total interest... that's almost doubling the amount with each week, and even if you worked a full-time job, that would be...

There's a long silence. The look on your face tells them all that could need to be said.

That's insane. There's a strain in your voice. Desperation, panic. In your defense, it is insane. You'd never see something like that in the real world, it would be bordering on illegal. You also recall the first conversation you had with Jade, and turn back to him. You said it would be temporary.

He smiles as you again. I did believe so. It would seem you have managed to fulfill your role well enough that you have become an exception. Congratulations.

You eye twitches. In your panic, you start to raise your voice, lash out with desperation in your tone.

What happens when it ends, then? You want me to lie to him until I graduate?

Just as before, Jade is the one to reply, not missing a beat, replying in a flat tone, as if the matter is of no significance.

The contract states nothing about expiring upon graduation. Please do remember it is both magically and legally binding, thus--

The words come out of your mouth the moment he finishes speaking.

I can't do that.

You can't. You know you can't. You're already at your limit, you already feel like you're losing your mind.

It feels like your stomach has twisted into a knot. Those words come crashing down the hardest. You look up and down, up and down, back and forth between them and the paper. Of course, they knew you'd be likely to back out, and ensured you couldn't ahead of time. It's so, so obvious it was entirely planned to go over this way, and you feel so utterly stupid for falling for it, yet you can't help but also wonder--

Why...?

Your tone makes it clear what you're referring to. Jade tilts his head.

Surely you would understand wanting happiness for a close relative, yes?

Their smiles don't waver. It's infuriating, makes you want to reach out and claw at their faces, and frankly, you're almost at the point of losing control to refrain from exactly that.

You *did* choose to sign it. Don't tell me you didn't take the opportunity to read the thing in full? In truth, Azul's voice is possibly eve more infuriating, it's more blatantly smug and jeering. Your body is trembling with emotion as you look him in the eye before he continues. But have no worry... since you seem to be struggling, I can make it easier for you.

Your eyebrows furrow. Panic and dread makes you hostile, easily set off by his words. You narrow your eyes and you're just about to question his meaning, but the door opens behind you, and you all fall silent.

...Mm...? What are you doing here?

You twitch at the familiar voice. You slowly turn your head around.

There's a long quiet that settles over the room. You're pretty sure your facial expression must reveal your panic and dread, because Floyd sort of tilts his head. What's up with you...?

You're still at a loss, unable to form words. His brother, however, finds a quick excuse.

Ah, there you go, miss _____. Seems you won't be needing us to find him.

You stiffen, swallow, sputter your words, but you manage to get out something aligned with that. O-oh, yeah I was -- I had to get something from my room and uh, you weren't in the store by the time I got back and uh... I just...

You suppose that would make sense, if you were looking for him, this probably would be where you'd go.

Floyd seems to accept that without too much question, saying he was looking for you too. He seems a bit irritated, saying that he tried to call you but you didn't pick up, you claim your phone was on silent (it wasn't, but you quickly grab it and pretend to turn the volume up a bit before it can go off again and prove you were lying), and after he drops a stack of papers off on the desk, the two of you quickly make your way back out (rather, he grabs you by the wrist and starts dragging you out of the room). Azul mentions something about him coming in tomorrow for the weekend shift (met with a yeah, yeah, I know), but, as you turn your head back over your shoulder before the door closes behind you, glaring with venom in your gaze, you get two knowing, infuriatingly cocky smiles in return.

You barely register him talking as you're dragged along. I tried goin' back to the library too, you know, I walked around forever looking for you...

Ugh. Can't you let it go already? Or at least, that's what you think, what you want to say, but you clench your jaw and mutter out another half-hearted sorry.

If you chew him out, you'll be violating the agreement... and although you could express irritation just a bit as per the loose contractual terms, you're pretty sure if you even started, you wouldn't be able to stop the floodgates from opening and getting out everything you want to say to him... so it's easier to just try and swallow it and keep quiet. It does look like you'll be stuck with that contract... you try to not think about it. The shock of it all is still fresh in your mind. If you focus on it, you might just break down, and you can't have that right now.

You try and change the subject, even though you're still rather shaken up, but you really don't want to deal with him thinking something is wrong and getting upset over it.

You... you wanna work on that project now? We can go to the library.

He was the one who mentioned wanting to do it tonight, earlier that day. You figure you should reward that sentiment, as he's usually a very last-minute person in regards to classwork. You can stand to be generous and not try and redirect to another day (as suggesting and redirecting is your frequent substitution for outright refusal).

He shrugs.

Nah... don't wanna go that far. We're already here anyway, makes no sense to go all the way across campus. My room's right over that way.

You stiffen. You do not want to do that. You don't like the thought of being alone with him in his own space, especially as it's nearly evening by now. You're still filled with spite (and near disbelief) from your earlier conversation with the other two, and worn out to the point of exhaustion. Besides, you've really abided by the whole thing pretty well thus far, and since it's clear to you now that Jade would greatly prefer the contract stay non-violated, so... you remember how he did say, way back when you first signed the godforsaken thing, that you'd have some leeway, and you've gotten away with a few things thus far. Surely it's not going to break the whole contract if you just try to tell him no outright and entirely, just this once.

You open your mouth.

...

Nothing comes out.

And in that same moment, you reach the end of the hallway. To the left is the Octavinelle dorm rooms, to the right is the common outdoor area and, by extension, the exit.

Okay, it's that one over there. He points to a door down the hall and turns.

Your feet, against your own will, before he can even pull you along, go left.

The sudden bizarre act makes panic burst through your chest, your body feels as if electrified. Your eyes widen, but you can't stop moving forward. You stumble, but carry on all the same.

Your mind races and races and your feet keep moving, you're trying to mask the bewilderment on your face and then it hits you. Those golden contracts...

'I can make it easier for you.'

The words run through your mind, each one like a heavy beat in your chest. It makes sense. Even if it's not using his signature spell, there's no reason he wouldn't be able to bind within the contract other sealing forms of magic, too, removing a specific voluntary capability, and waiting to activate it whenever it was needed.

He took away your ability to be defiant.

It feels as if there's a weight of ice in your chest. Cold and heavy. Dread bubbles up in your gut as the door opens. Floyd grabs you by the wrist to pull you in.

The room is almost comical to look at -- one side pristine and neat, everything in perfect order... the other messy, stuff strewn about everywhere, bed unmade, clothes laying over the back of the desk chair, trash can full and surrounded by papers crumpled into balls, shelves lined with open bags of junk food. You have no trouble guessing which side is which. He off-handedly mentions that Jade is staying with someone else overnight. How convenient.

There's a heavy, awkward silence. You ask about the materials for the initial paperwork you'll have to create as a formulaic model for the project.

Yeah, I got it.

After pulling the covers up, he sits on the bed, lazily fetching the textbook out. You don't protest that (after all, he only has the one desk chair in the tiny dorm room, and the floor looks kinda disgusting), and you slowly sit down on the other side - facing him so you're apart, not sitting side by side, keeping your distance.

To fill the silence, you start to talk about the whole thing. There's a growing nervousness in your chest, a sense of dread. He doesn't seem very focused on the material -- well, he never does, but even less so than usual. You get the sense he has no intention to really work on it at all. He makes some progress, by filling out a couple of tasks you assign as you go, but the planning for the project carries on for maybe only ten minutes before Floyd seems to reach the end of his patience, shuts the textbook, sets it all down on the floor and declares that you're now taking a break.

Before you can even question, he leans forward. His hands grab your sides. He pulls your frozen stiff body over towards him, with a sort of roughness out of impatience. As grabby as he is, you've never been like this before, back pressed to his chest. Both of your legs sprawl out against each other, his extending beyond yours.

More importantly, you can feel a stiffness digging into your tailbone.

A few more moments pass in quiet.

....

...What now? He's not sure. Is there a certain way you're supposed to start? The obvious steps have been taken... meh. No point in worrying about it. Even if there is a different way you're supposed to do this, you won't mind. Probably.

You stiffen. But, even though your mind commands your body to do reach up and grab his hands, your arms won't move. They stay limp at your sides. Your legs won't move to scramble up and away from him. Your mouth can't form the word stop. You stammer out something else you can manage, a quick plea to h-hold on, wait... what are...?

He rests his chin on your shoulder. Eh... It's normal to do stuff like this at this point, you know... 's been months.

He says it in a whiny tone of voice. Like it's a source of frustration. Like you're doing some misdeed by having taken so long already, like it's something he's owed that he's been unnecessarily patient to wait for. You suppose that probably is how he sees it.

That's when his earlier conclusion clicks with you. The pieces sort of align on their own in your mind. That he likes you - yeah, you gathered that at this point. That's become outright obvious. But this entire time - this entire time - he has apparently been under the belief that you have, despite never establishing such, been in an actual relationship.

And you, you might as well be stuck. You open your mouth again, but whatever you were instinctively about to say must have fallen under the realm of being too defiant. You can squirm and sort of try to pull away, so you know there must be a line drawn somewhere on what you can do, but your body won't allow you to push him back, to stand up, to try and fully move away. You can only writhe around just enough as would be normal for this sort of situation in a consensual context.

His movements are awkward. You can tell he has no idea what he's doing. He's just sort of operating on a mentally crafted step-by-step tutorial based on his average knowledge compiled from socialization and movies and exposure to erotic content.

Since that seems to be necessary first... you're almost a bit surprised, caught off-guard by it, but he awkwardly grabs the back of your head, turns your head towards him, cranes his neck forward, presses your mouths together. It's uncomfortable and clueless, your teeth clack against each other's and the angle is a bit off, so your jaws bump against each other too. Not that he really seems to notice, or maybe just doesn't care too much. It only lasts for a few moments before you're roughly thrown down flat on your back. Your arms get entangled and you accidentally elbow him as you try to shift around.

Still, albeit awkward, he's not hesitant or reluctant, not like the type of guy who jolts at every movement you make out of nervousness and constantly asks if it's okay, no, not like that at all. Whatever nervousness he has is still minimal compared to the average guy, he's more apathetic to your discomfort and far more easily overridden by impulse. In fact, the fact that he has no idea what he's doing makes it infinitely worse. He pushes your legs back way too far, to the point of pain, awkwardly angled. Gawks at the space between your legs like it's mesmerizing, using his thumbs to harshly spread you apart, without considering the discomfort it causes you, not relenting when the pulling sensation makes you inhale a sharp breath.

He doesn't take time to be slow, to savor the moment or anything, just pushes in way too quickly, basically grabbing your hips and jerks his own forward in one quick movement. The first few movements in and out are also awkward and oddly angled, but he seems to get adjusted quickly.

More importantly, the moment he does get adjusted, completely out of the blue and without hesitation, he leans down, opens his mouth, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

Given the razor-sharp teeth he has, it immediately punctures the flesh, and you squeal and thrash at the pain. Even as he lets go, there's a strong stinging in each of the tiny wounds, a ring of pain in the perfectly-spaced bite pattern left behind.

Heheh...

You look up at him as he chuckles, your vision blurred by tears, but even so, you can see the amusement on his face... and your blood on his teeth as he smiles.

It's really nice when you make that sound.

He pauses to swipe his tongue across his teeth, and swallows before adding,

Do it again.

He lowers his head and for a moment you panic at the thought of another bite... this time, thankfully, he just laps his tongue at the wounds, but the sting makes you squeal again all the same. Your legs thrash and kick in the air, you try and squeeze them shut, but that just makes them wrap around his torso. Your insides clamp down on the intrusion inside you.

You don't get bitten again, thankfully, but he continues to lap at the bite the whole time. It's a constant mix of pleasure and pain, both to your poor abused neck as well as your insides. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find yourself making some involuntary noises of pleasure, that you didn't wrap your arms around him and claw at his back... but you also squeal and whimper and shudder, tears fall from your eyes. He doesn't slow down, regardless, seemingly too lost in the feeling to really notice.

On the bright side, it doesn't take very long. You suppose that's expected, given his age and apparent experience level. In the end, you find yourself laying there, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the events of the past few hours, the past few weeks, rethinking your entire series of choices that led up to this point... wishing every possible curse and misfortune upon the other two mer that you can think of. You can't get them out of your mind either, and your face feels hot when you think about the fact that, given the absence of Jade in his own room at night, they both probably know exactly what's been transpiring here. It makes you grind your teeth, curl your hands into fists.

But a hand waving in front of your face draws you out of your thoughts. Something is presented in front of you, placed into your hand.

You gotta swallow one of these... don't have money for a kid yet.

Ah. So that's why he went to the school pharmacy. You feel irritation bubble up when you remember you're absolutely certain that...

Don't they sell condoms too?

He nods. Yeah. But everyone says that those don't feel good, so I didn't get any.

You bite your tongue.

Of course, him buying that also confirms he already planned this out well ahead of time. Not that that really strikes you as a surprise. You just feel numb.

In your misery, laying there, you tell yourself one thing, one small comfort to take solace in: at least this is rock bottom. It really can't get any worse from here.

But, well, at this point, you're pretty sure you upset the will of the universe or something, because it seems to want to prove you wrong.

Something about that night seems to sort of jump-start him. Like pouring raw gasoline on a weak flame and watching it flare up.

Your life changes further still, after that night. Before, you at the very least had the solace of solitude at the end of each day, the comfort of being able to return to your own room, your own living space, eat and bathe and sleep by yourself, a sort of retreat from the otherwise omnipresent menace in your life, a brief reprieve to collect yourself and prepare to face the next day with him all over again.

Now, you don't even get that. You thought maybe it would be occasional that he'd want to stay with you, or at least you hoped, but no. Rather than a slow progression, from that first time onward, he sees it as the natural progression of things that you should now immediately begin spending every single night together. You feel a part of you die inside when he asks you at the end of the school day, do you wanna stay in my place again, or yours? I wanna see your place too...

You finally oblige, which turns out to be much to your annoyance. He wanders all around your dorm room, nosily asking about or looking through every little thing. In the end, though, he prefers you stay in his place. All his stuff is there, you know, more convenient (he says this, but somehow it fails to occur to him that the inverse is probably true for you, or maybe he just doesn't care). Still, seeing as you live by yourself and he does not, you end up spending more nights in your room anyway.

He becomes, to an unprecedented degree, jealous of anything you spend your time doing that doesn't involve him. He more or less pressures you into quitting the club you were involved in. It's at a really bad time and all... and it's not even a useful thing anyway, and I don't know any of those people there, they could be bad, you know... If necessary to deter you to quit, he even goes so far as to imply you're not good at it, and therefore should do something else! You know, something that can be done sitting at the side of the gym while he finishes up his club activities, within his range of sight. He usually leaves the basketball club early these days anyway, wandering off after remembering you're over there and consequently getting his mind to racing and leading him to think about far more fun things that he could be doing if he were with you in his room instead.

Then, it's not just your former club members, but anyone you text or call. He hates you getting phone calls. At least with texting, he can ask questions, but on a phone call, what, you're telling him he's supposed to just sit there and stay quiet? Ugh. Even then, he's usually tugging on your arm after the first few minutes, giving you a pouty expression of frustration so you try to hang up faster, and, if it goes on for longer than three or so minutes, he'll just start blatantly taking over you to whine that you're taking too long.

He doesn't like you eating without him, or taking showers without him either. He's seen enough movies and observed enough couples to know that you're supposed to do those together, right? So, on the occasion that he's busy with work, be sure not to do either or those without him. He'll just make you take a second shower with him again anyway, if you take one by yourself.

Thus, your only reprieve now is the classes you don't have with him. From the moment you wake up, all the classes you have with each other, your breaks, your lunch, your afternoons, your dinners, your evenings, your nights, your sleep, every single second besides that time is completely consumed by Floyd. Your grades take a steep decline; they already had begun to slightly, but now, he gets annoyed whenever you study for more than a few minutes, and insists it's not that important, that you're never gonna use the information anyway, so you should just put that book down and come play a game or get in bed with him instead. That's way more fun. At first it's merely a whine, but if you should insist, his expression gets darker, his tone deeper, as he tells you a second time to stop being annoying and come do something with him NOW. Of course, if you oblige, he can snap right back to a good mood, though.

You don't spend time with others either. You lose contact with most of your friends. You off-handedly mentioned trying to hang out with them, that he could come to, but he always manages to say nah, I don't feel like it in such a tone that communicates what he really means: that he doesn't like you having people you're so close to, that he doesn't want you to like them more than you do him, that he doesn't like how happy you seem with them... but hey, you can still hang out every day at the Mostro Lounge. He lets you sit there while he works, you even are allowed to get a drink a day for free (a generous offer considering the owner's stingy tendencies), and you can do your studying there too before going home for the day.

He tries to get you to interact with Jade and Azul a bit, since they're the only people he trusts with you, but for whatever reason, you're very quiet whenever he brings you around them, and more or less refuse to directly speak to the other two. The three of you besides him tend to exchange these odd glances where you look really upset about something, but thankfully they don't seem bothered. Maybe you're really nervous around new people or something. You'll probably get used to it with time.

He takes some offense to you doing things without him. He has to know whatever is on the screen of your phone or laptop, has to know who you're texting, even has to attend as a very awkward third party whenever you get a partnered project in a different class, where he essentially stands there with an intimidating stare like sort of vigilant watchdog (watcheel?) to ensure... whatever it is he's trying to ensure. As if he thinks the other guy is going to try something with you in the middle of the public courtyard in broad daylight.

Which is a ridiculous notion on its own, but especially seeing as, by this point, people have started talking... it's not as if everyone hasn't noticed the way he's attached to you like glue, and a lot of people witnessed that time he dumped the guy out of the chair next to you in class. If his reputation wasn't already enough that people are intimidated by him, the way he supposedly menacingly stares at everyone that comes up to you quickly becomes well-known. You once even overheard a guy mutter something to another about how he hoped he didn't get partnered with you in class, or else, in his words, Leech might strangle me to death. You also notice that, whenever you're allowed to pick partners even for in-class work, people seem to avoid you like the plague, until the last person left reluctantly has to work with you. People even wave and say hi to you less often than ever, as if by doing so they risk some sort of consequence. People regard you only with nervous glances and a wide berth. It only adds to your feeling of isolation.

You don't get to go anywhere alone by choice either. Sometimes you try. I'm going to the store, I'm gonna go to the mail center real quick, I have to go drop this paper off... Regardless of what it is, he never takes a hint, always just gets up and comes with you, often whining about the matter, as if you're forcing him to go, when in reality you'd give anything just to have five minutes of fresh air to yourself before having to come back to the room, where you'd inevitably be tormented and toyed with for hours on end anyway.

In regards to that... even though he doesn't last very long, he has a lot of stamina, so it's not long before you just go at it again anyhow. You quickly learn that he likes to bite, it's not just a one-time thing. You're covered in tiny little dots, all around your neck, jugular, and collarbones. Even if the uniform allowed for it, you don't own enough turtlenecks to deal with covering it... he likes the look of it, though. You were able to plead against it (you've learned creative ways of asking for things, in this case making comments about how people will see), but he doesn't seem to mind. It's fine if people see, he says, as if whether or not he cares is the issue, not your feelings on it. He doesn't see a reason to have a problem with it. People know about you both, right? So if they see you're all bitten up, they'll just know he did it. The apathy in his tone makes it clear you won't be convincing him not to.

Likewise, especially without being able to outright refuse, you can't deter him from other behaviors you'd prefer he not take either, namely trying to sneak around in public. More than once, as the bells ring and you tell him you're about to be late, seeing that the rest of the students have already begun the clear the halls, he'll grab you by the arm. Eh... we can miss it today. Pulls you into a bathroom or an empty classroom or any other quiet place void of students. Some days he's content with just using your hands on each other, but sometimes, he'll turn you around and push you to lean your upper half against the wall, and shoves himself inside you right then and there. In the library, tucked away in the far empty corners, sometimes in exchange for agreeing to actually study, he'll just have you sit on his lap the whole time... sheathed inside you all the while. He seems far less concerned than you about the risk of people walking by as you are. In fact, it becomes very clear he finds your worry about that to be amusing.

He gets off to you squirming, too. It doesn't even need to be in intercourse either. He can (and not infrequently does) just have you sit in his lap, back pressed to his chest, legs pulled apart and arms held behind your back. He likes to pinch and pull and tweak and squeeze at your nipples, your clit. Just for fun. Sometimes when you're not expecting it at all, too, it'll be fairly gentle (to the extent he can be, so more like harsh movements, just no deliberate acts of pain just yet), and you'll be thinking maybe this time you can finally get a day in where you just do things the normal way before you squeal at the sudden sharp pinch of pain that makes your body jolt.

You suppose it's some sort of predator impulse, like a fish struggling in the maw of the moray. The mer likely retain some of that, or such is your reasoning. That's why, whenever you tense up and squeal and shudder and squirm and pull your hips away, his body seems to react as if having pulled some sort of trigger. Latching his arms around you more fully, squeezing your body tight, so so so tight you can't breathe. Each little sound you make makes him move harder and faster, the faint sting of skin slapping against skin growing stronger and the sound of it growing louder as well. It always leaves you sore inside. You always tell yourself to remain still, try not to squirm around, but you really can't help it, your body naturally reacts to the slamming, blunt pain on your insides whenever he moves. That part isn't a matter of intentionally causing pain, he just... doesn't really know how to be gentle. Just shoves himself inside of you and jerks his hips, which is often a stinging friction when it's so sudden, and his cock matches his body -- that is, long -- and thereby pushes so deep inside it hits spots that send sparks of pain down your spine as well. The squirming is really involuntary, then, but when you squirm, it just makes him go harder, and the cycle continues until you're lying there spent and sore, his arms wrapped around your body to hold you firmly in place.

His arms are always locked onto you, both during and after, and often times whenever you're just sitting around the room as well. And especially when you sleep, he latches on tight, a grip like iron as pulls you in and locks your bodies together. You're not sure why he does it so much, but it often inhibits you from moving, and gets annoying fast. You chalk it up to being another mer tendency. His fingers tend to curl too, though, and his nails dig into your arms and stomach and back wherever he's holding you, so you have to wake him up to get it to relent, if but for a short time.

He likes to use his fingers a lot, actually. There's a lot of casual sexual activity with him, where you'll be sitting doing something else, watching a movie, studying, anything... but he feels the need to have you sitting on his lap, with his fingers either playing with your body, buried inside one or more of your holes, or both. He really likes trying to get you to squirt, it's something of a sport for him, like he's always trying to make you do so harder than last time.

Heh... look, it shot out all over the place.

He's shameless about it. And gross, at least in your opinion, because he has this penchant for consuming, too. Whenever he pulls his fingers out, all coated in slick, he has absolutely no hesitation before popping them into his mouth, seems to genuinely savor licking it all off. Sometimes he prefers to just sort of kneel down (of shuffle downwards if you're laying down), and shove his face against your quim instead, sucking at the fluid directly (while it would be an enjoyable sensation with almost anyone else, you can't help but always get a spike of panic in your chest whenever you think about those teeth of his getting so close to such sensitive parts). He makes sure to leave a bite on the inside of your thigh occasionally, too. Even if your body reflexively tries to maneuver to angle yourself away from his mouth (to the extent that you can manage to do, as you can't fully pull away due to your spellbound state), his hands will reach out, latch onto your hips, fingernails like needles against your flesh, and pull you back with an aggressive firmness.

It never lasts, though. In terms of sex, he always has a selfish streak to him, never does anything just for your sake. So even then, after tonguing you for some time, he still always, always, always has to have his cock in you too, by the end of it, often abruptly stopping out of sudden impatience and flipping you over onto your stomach and get inside you... it's easier to grab onto and control your body in that position.

You did get him to wear a condom once too... for all of about eight seconds before he shoved himself inside you, hesitated a moment before pulling back out and tearing it off before shoving back inside you again. No way. Just take the pill thing instead. You remind yourself to try and find some other birth control measures in the near future.

In fact, you once thought that maybe you could go to the school's pharmacy by yourself, in what turned out to be one of your biggest occurrences of regret since meeting him. In the past, before you ever became... that close, before he really started taking over your life, you would sometimes do things on your own, right? You would often skirt the contractual circumstances of not needlessly avoiding him by instead waiting to accomplish things you needed to get done, during times he'd be looking for you... sure, he'd usually be whiny and gripe about how he couldn't find you, but it was bearable. So, one day, as you sit at the lounge in the afternoon, after taking a look around to ensure the coast is clear, you vacate your usual seat, quietly making your way out the door and down to the school pharmacy. You put your phone on silent, out of some combination of spite and wanting to enjoy your brief outing without interruption, even if he gets grouchy about it. With any luck, if you're only gone less than a half hour or so, he might not even notice before you get back. Besides, he was upset when you left that time you went to talk to Jade and Azul, but he wasn't too upset... although it's been a while since then, and he's even more attached now... still.

Walking around by yourself almost feels foreign, it's been so long. But it feels wonderful, such a relief to not have to entertain conversation or worry about not paying enough attention to the thorn in your side. You go in, grab a few things (might as well try all those contraceptive methods they have). The employees are thankfully licenced older adults, not your peers, which would be far more awkward... and hey, might as well hit the primary school store while you're right there at it. You try to be conscious of the time, but still linger... it won't hurt. You won't be gone long. The store sells that one junk food you're really fond of and haven't had in a long time... oh, they have a lot of it in stock, too. You get a few packages, check out, turn to walk out the door and make your way back.

You pause to grab some of the pieces out of the packaging and pop them into your mouth. Your head is downturned when everything in your field of vision gets darker. Shadow from something behind you. You go stiff. You feel a sense of dread as you slowly turn your head. You force a smile, but it twitches.

...O-oh, I was about to head back to you... did you... need something...?

He doesn't look mad. But that's what makes it more terrifying. If he's irked, it'll show on his face, he'll get that whiny voice and complain and pout. But his face is blank, wide-eyed, staring intently at you, quiet.

I tried calling you.

You don't like the tone of his voice, either. Cold and ominous. Not fumingly angry or irritated, but that much more dreadful due to the lack of intense emotion.

Oh, uh, sorry about--

You didn't say anything.

Well, I-I, I was just going to the--

I looked around for you everywhere.

Your heart starts to beat faster. You've never seen him quite like this, not towards you. You take a step back. I'm sorry, really. Let's... let's go back now, okay?

...No, I already told 'em I was leaving... I'm done for the day.

He grabs your wrist and pulls with harsh force, dragging you across the campus grounds. You stumble, you nearly drop your things. His grip is so tight it's painful. Even some other people turn their heads to stare, it must be that noticeable. You don't like how quiet he is, saying nothing the entire time. Through the courtyard, as you enter the dorm grounds, into the halls, all the way back to the room, he doesn't say a word. Drags you through the door, locks it behind him, pulls you over to the bed and slings you by the arm with such force it knocks the breath out of you as you hit the bed. You don't get to fully sit upright before the mattress shifts again, and he comes to sit behind you, roughly pulling you to sit on the bed with your back to his chest, which is, as you've come to learn, his preferred position when doing most things.

And as usual, he wraps his arms around your body. Without a word.

Tightly.

His forearms cross over your chest, fully wrapping around your frame. The hold gets tighter.

And tighter. And tighter. You sit quietly for a few minutes, stiff with dread and unease at his unsettling lack of words or any outward display of emotion. You're unsure if you should say anything. Maybe he's waiting for you to say something? But even though you're uneasy, you wouldn't know what to tell him, and you're certainly not about to apologize for doing something so normal, something you should be allowed to do without needing him to even be told.

But his grip gets tighter. It starts to hurt. It's compressing your ribs.

You start to panic. Hey, can you not grip so hard? It's... kinda hard to breathe...

He doesn't say anything. A few moments pass.

It gets tighter.

F-Floyd, you're -- you're hurting me--

Tighter, tighter. You can barely breathe. You start to thrash.

Floyd, I -- s-stop--

You feel trembling. It takes you a few moments to realize it's not from your body, but his. Holding you so tight, with such strain to his muscles, it makes him shiver.

He finally speaks. Uses that little nickname you hate so much. His voice is hoarse and quiet, almost a whisper, and hollow, without emotion. As if speaking of something of no consequence.

...I was really worried, you know. Thought maybe you were tired of me... and decided to go to someone else instead.

You shake your head. You sputter out something about how that's wrong, that you wouldn't do that. You don't even really process the words you say, just desperately try to placate.

His grip doesn't relent just yet.

...Hey, you like me, right? And not anyone else?

You nod frantically. Your chest convulses as you try and fail to breathe. You're beginning to feel tingly all over, your head feels light.

So... you're not gonna do that again, right?

You frantically nod, but the motion comes out slower than you intend, as you struggle to move.

...Mm... okay.

You gasp in what might be the biggest gulp of air you've taken in your life as the grip goes lax. You start to hack and cough. He hands you a bottle of water. How considerate.

And then, it's as if nothing happened. He's smiling, says something about how you look really funny, swaying and dizzy like that. Upbeat and pleasant again. But he's really tired from worrying so much, so, he drags you down to lay on your side and declares you'll both nap for a while. He falls asleep quickly, but you're in too much pain from your throbbing stomach and ribcage to sleep... and you're very uneasy having his arm wrapped around you again. You don't sleep much that night at all.

You make good on your word, though, and don't have a repeat incident. From his point of view, even in general, you're really easy to get along with, and he's glad you're super agreeable. Who knew having a girlfriend was so easy? It's very nice. You never reject anything he says, at least not more than once, you always agree after he insists on something. If he suggests you go somewhere, you always say sure. And if he says he's bored and wants to do this or that, you always drop whatever you're doing and follow along. And if he tells you to not talk to someone, to cancel some other plans, to skip class and stay in bed, you never even argue, you just say alright. Sometimes your eyes widen, sometimes your face twitches or your hand will fly up to cover your mouth, sometimes you even answer through gritted teeth and a strained voice, as if trying to not say anything... and you get this weird expression on your face for a moment... but you're still always agreeing, so, he just decides to think nothing of that.

You used to not be quite as agreeable, but these days, you never argue, you always do whatever he wants. It's like a dream come true.

And he's really, genuinely happy. Even other people comment on it, say he's matured a lot and stuff like that, because he's not as moody as he used to be... well, not to them, at least not as often. He's a bit more laid back on some things... although if it involves you, he can still return to his habits, but people have sort of learned that, and consequently learned to avoid upsetting him in regards to you. If you yourself upset him, he can still flip like a light switch, but you don't seem to mind that. Sure, there's been a couple times you've tried to bring it up, but the moment he says anything in return to argue against it, your mouth twitches, you suddenly agree with him and stop saying mean stuff. Maybe you just want attention and pretend to be upset or something. Regardless, he doesn't really care too much... his life is in a state of bliss, and that's enough for him.

Other people are quite happy you've "helped him calm down" too. People seem pretty happy for the two of you in general, say it's an odd fit, but it's cute, and stuff like that.

...And sometimes, whenever you're sitting in class, sitting in the Mostro Lounge, in the library, walking across campus, anywhere... you'll see a familiar face from across the room, near identical to the face you spend nearly every waking second of your life around. He doesn't even bother to pretend to not be looking, doesn't look away when you make eye contact, but instead always continues to observe, and flashes you a knowing, sinister smile. Just checking up on you every now and then and all... and to serve as a reminder to behave according to your agreement.

You do you best to give the most loathsome look of disgust you can muster in return. It's really all you can do.

[stacotto]

Ok, wow, that episode was soooooooooo fucked up™ and I have so many thoughts™.

First off, absolutely heartbreaking to see Suletta throw herself into The List and taking care of the Greenhouse to cope with the fact that she just lost everything and she blames herself for it all (which hits really fucking close). She thinks she deserves it and I just wanna reach through the screen and tell her it's not her fault at all.

Lauda is still emotionally constipated and can't express gratitude without insulting someone in the process.

Shaddiq really out here proving why the emblem for Grassley Defense Systems is a snake, the bastard. Really hope he dies at Guel's hand, the Akihiro vs. Iok vibes are strong here.

Schwarzette was a Jeturk machine to no one's surprise, origin is cool though, Vim making it behind the scenes (likely ever since cutting a deal with Prospera all the way back in episode 2). I get the feeling Suletta's going to be the one fielding it first.

So two things that really stuck out to me during the Backroom Trio scene, 1). the fact that Peil has an AI decide who's who gives me such Destiny Plan vibes and makes the four CEOs that much creepier, and 2). El5n and Norea need to just bang already.

On Mio's plan to use Aerial as a symbol of de-escalation, I think Luke Skywalker said it best: "This is not going to go the way you think"

And of course, the big reveal: Suletta, and the eleven other consciousnesses inhabiting the GUND bits, are all clones of Eri - the bits to expand her consciousness and autonomy, and Suletta herself to act as an interface to the physical plane. It was legitimately heartbreaking to see that Suletta was effectively "born" the day Eri "died", which horrifyingly reveals that Elnora didn't suddenly just snap the moment Eri's body gave out - she saw it coming and prepared ahead of time. Jesus fucking Christ.

I have thoughts about Eri rejecting Suletta. She's clearly coming from the same "cruel to be kind/break her heart to save her" place as Miorine - she never wanted Suletta to be an accessory to Prospera's revenge from the get-go - but y'all keep throwing her out without a lifeline, and banking on someone else picking up the pieces. I am curious though, to see exactly how much Eri cares about revenge; we know she's in on it - again, she just doesn't want Suletta involved - but from her PoV back in Cradle Planet, she made it seem like she had no choice but to go along with it, so that may provide an interesting turning point, we'll have to see.

There has to be a reason Secilia is on the other side of the confession booth therapy room, hopefully for more than just comedy.

That came out a little more rambly than I anticipated, but man, this episode was a wild ride.

[inklessletter]

for that ask game: What is a Steddie daydream (fic you have in your head whatever you want to call it) you have frequently? I'm sure you have a nice handful to choose from but whats the main one you conjure up to have feelings™ before falling asleep? Do you often rewrite tiny portions nightly because the angst,etc, potential is too good. Or is there a scene you have stuck in your head that you just NEED to replay? What's it about?

Oh god. This one.

It will always be this one. Had I participated in the big bang, that would have been my fic to write (even if I had a very different idea before this).

The only reason I keep having this fantasy in my mind is because I keep dreaming about situations that could fit in this so perfectly. It is very much related to these twin pieces.

So I'm going to share a few highlights of what goes on my mind. This is gonna be cheesy and cringey, but let me expand a bit on this.

It is a summer fic. They decide to do this, ad they decide to take a trip to California, far away from Hawkins, just the two of them. Eddie suggested it, because he thought it would count as quality time together with no chance to go away and Steve agreed because it was fun and spontaneous. And it escalates to the point that they both feel like they've lost control, but before they reach that point, Steve and Eddie do things like:

Stealing a jet-ski (Steve's idea)

Skinny dipping in the night sea

Party crashing a wedding

A fake date with every cliché of the book

Sex in the nature

These are just a few. I keep having ideas of potential situations that would fit in this story so perfectly.

The problem is I want to write it, but I feel like I can't. I've started it many times, but I know my own limits here. I am afraid I won't be able to actually deliver what's on my mind as acurately. I am not a very skilled writer and I'm pretty insecure about my use of the language, so I'm also pretty slow. I just would love to write it, but I am aware that I'd need assistance. So much. I'd love to make art out of it, too. I know I would need so much help with this, and I don't really want to ask anyone, because people has enough on their plate, so I won't put anyone in such a position.

Writing this is actually making me so sad, it's stupid. I think it would really be a very enjoyable little thing to read, and it would inspire me so much to do art out of it, but... well, I think these "no true writer" issues are definitely in the way.

Maybe someday I won't feel like I can't anymore and write it. I'd love to do that.

[good-beans]

HAI!! haii so so . Listen i was having milgram thoughts as one does and decided to bother you talk to you . Also because i want to lowkey hear your thoughts about this

So i was thinking maybe milgram has a cleaning system thing done by the prisoners?? Like cleaning duties and stuff and obviously i had some silly thoughts like fuuta getting paired with someone taller and not being able to reach a spot that's just bugging him, and they just tower over him and clean it. Also mahiru being extremely good at cleaning because she's always wanted to be the perfect shoujo heroine. And Kazui being good at it to try to make up to his wife for not being able to love her. Muu being a rich girl™ probably wouldn't be all that good at it and I'm not entirely sure about Haruka or Yuno. Shidou probably did help around the house when his family was still around, and being a doctor, probably wants the place to be sanitary, so he'd be good at it too. Anyways, then I thought about Amane.

Like obviously she values cleanliness or purity, but her house isn't exactly the best maintained right? Would that result in her being relatively lax about the cleaning? Or maybe since her guardian was someone who "strayed from the path" (i didn't really know how to put it) she wouldn't want to follow in their example? Making her want to keep the prisoner more clean? I didn't have enough time in school to think about it (sad) but even rn i cant really come to a proper conclusion. Keeping things sanitary was definitely not what she was raised with and if the cult was fine with her running around with her bruises unbandaged and living in her definitely not properly maintained house. But also not wanting to follow something that her guardian did would also definitely be something I'd expect from her…

AHH thank you sm for telling me!! >:3 It’s literally never a bother, I always want to talk Milgram adfsdfsdf I love this 👀 I expand a bit with my thoughts below but all of that is so perfect YES

Omg I love all those -- Mahiru, Shidou, and Kazui definitely seem like the very best cleaners! Mahiru genuinely enjoys it but also holds herself to high societal standards. Kazui probably doesn’t actively enjoy it, but he’d like the clean household and being a good spouse. Shidou seems like he’s just a very meticulously clean person in general -- he also wants to be a good husband but he’d be exactly the same even if he never married lol. 

I think Haruka and Muu would be pretty bad at it, just because they’re not used to the responsibilities. (Muu gives me very genuinely spoken “you missed a spot” vibes lmao. She’s trying to be helpful, but depending on who she says it to, it goes pretty poorly…) 

Fuuta, Yuno, Mikoto, and Kotoko strike me as the type to be varying levels of messy on their own but when they’re forced to clean they do a good job. Fuuta’s bad with leaving gross food/trash/laundry around. Yuno is sanitary, but her possessions get painfully cluttered. Mikoto and Kotoko fall in the middle of this spectrum. Kotoko seems like she’d honestly just forget about taking care of her living space, while the others make the conscious choice to let it go for a while. 

I’m dying over Fuuta not being tall enough to reach a certain spot ASFSDF that’s exactly what would happen 😂 Also I know none of his clothes are his prisoner color, but I’m picturing that classic laundry mishap where he ends up dying his uniform pink by washing it alongside something red… 

And Amane. Hm. I’m intrigued by her case, because I would have said without a doubt that she would be super clean and organized due to her teachings -- but then that mv shot (combined with the injury treatment you mentioned) clearly shows her mother doesn’t live that way. It’s definitely an option that she’s a hypocrite in many areas: punishing Amane for things when she herself has done worse, demanding Amane be perfectly clean when her house is a mess, etc. It could also be that she never asked for that, but the rest of the cult drilled the importance of purity into Amane -- and this contributes to the ways in which Amane notices her mother’s straying). 

Whether cleanliness was expected of her at that time or not, though, I think you’re right: she’d be disgusted with her mother’s lack of it, and this would fuel her to keep everything in Milgram in perfect order. Es may have been the one to originally set up the cleaning/chore rotation in t1, but once she starts speaking for the cult in t2, Amane is the one really enforcing everything. At first, this probably annoys the others (they don’t want to be bossed around by a scary 12yo). But the way she talks about perfection and punishments would likely cue them in on her past, making them act a bit gentler about the whole situation. Some of them try to get her to relax and not fear undue punishments if things aren’t clean, but she’d likely take it as an insult to her code rather than an offer of reassurance :( Still, I think given her physical/mental strain, some of the others would successfully convince her to let them help, and take a few of the tougher/grosser cleaning jobs off her hands.

[nymphilily]

Miscellaneous Fun Facts About The TWST Pokemon Conquest AU Because I'm Dragging My Feet On It And Some People Are Actually Interested, Apparently

I'm not going to explain the plot of Pokemon Conquest to you. I am however going to tell you to play the game, it's really good and probably one of, if not THE best Pokemon Spin-Off and Collaboration games of all time. Also go play Samurai Warriors. Believe me it has more to do with this post than you think

Ace, Deuce and Epel are the mandatory Starter Typing Trio, filling in being Warriors for the Fire, Water and Grass-Type respectively. They would all have the Paldea Starters as their Perfect Links if I didn't decide that Epel's Perfect Link should be the Aplin Line upon conception

Edit: I'm A Fool I'm An Idiot I just remembered Yukimura's Starter Pokemon is Tepig but his Perfect Link is Charizard. Epel can, indeed, have a Sprigatito

They're all also fugitives, it's how they meet Yuu. They found them knocked out on a beach on the edge of the Region while trying to flee

Unlike the Hero/Heroine, Yuu isn't a Warlord. They are instead the head strategist of their little ragtag army. Grim is considered to be a very fucked-up looking Meowth, and not allowed to battle since he doesn't really listen anyways

It's not made clear (ie I haven't decided yet) if Yuu is even from the Pokemon World or comes from a world like our own. They don't have their memories from before waking up on the beach, which is why they want to unify the Region and call up God to figure out what's going on

The very first actual, real Warlord the gang have to fight is Riddle, the resident Fairy-Type Warlord, who ends up mirroring the very last Warlord they have to fight, the Dragon-Type Warlord Malleus. We call that symbolism or foreshadowing I think

Malleus is still considered to be a Dragon Fae, although it's in that "descended from dragons" sort of matter. He doesn't have the ability to turn into a dragon

Cater is a lot like Okuni where he considers Bug-Type Pokemon to be very cute. If the internet existed during The Sengoku Period, A Time Of Chaos And Bloodshed™, his page would be filled of pics of all the Bug-Types he's encountered and raised as a Warrior

Both Lilia and Ruggie are Dark-Type Warriors, meaning they are the de facto Ninja's of this AU! Have fun with that knowledge because I'm certainly not going to expand upon it

What are you going to do to stop me from telling you that Vil's Starting Pokemon is Trubbish? What will you do?

Not necessarily a fun fact in the traditional sense, but Trey is the one and only Normal-Type Warrior that isn't an NPC, so he absolutely could have a Perfect Link with Arceus if I didn't have a very strict "No Legendary or Mythical Perfect Links" rule

If I had a nickel for every time I made a character's Perfect Link the spirit of a dead relative, I would have two nickels. Which is not a lot, but it's very on brand of me to do it more than once I love the Dead Relative Troupe

Idia would have absolutely handed over his army to Yuu's cause if Ortho didn't insist they at least try to defend themselves. Yuu's Army ends up getting creamed the first time btw

The Kingdom Sebek rules over sits on the very edge of the Region and has a dock that no longer see's any activity. Sebek spends a lot of his free-time in the lighthouse near said dock and is often confused for it's caretaker. Yes his Starting Pokemon is an Ampharos why do you ask?

Don't ask what happened to Crowley. We Don't Talk About What Happened To Crowley

[letoilepourpre]

New King AU basics

this is basically an introduction to the New King AU, since you all enjoyed the premise! It has some personal headcanons included, but for now I'll just make the basis settled so you all can accompany whatever I post about it from now on!

Basics:

In this AU, the soul jam doesn't make cookies immortal, just makes them live wayy longer than an average cookie, and the ancients got old. Cacao was the last one to give up on his jam but, eventually, passed it to Caramel Arrow.

The main plot evolves around Caramel, but Raisin, Choco and Royalberry also get soul jams. Still haven't decided on stuff for the Golden Cheese Kingdom though, I'll wait for when ep 18 is out ASKSMMR

This AU has my personal HC where the soul jam changes its holder's physics. I think you already noticed Caramel's horns already but yeah she gets more dragon-like traits and abilities, Raisin gets crow/angel like features (a mix of Vanilla's angelic appearance and her own touch) and Royal's dragon features are more evident (him being a hollytaya child in this AU. They divorced but eventually get back but it's a whooole story that I might explore later). Choco's appearance is never consistent as Dark Enchantress' soul jam is corrupted, but it's always something to do with shadows.

There are some changes in the kingdoms! I might go in depth with it as the AU expands.

Cacao Kingdom:

Cacao gives the throne to Caramel after the Affogato incident happened, as he doesn't believe he's capable of ruling over a kingdom anymore, that he should've passed the soul jam through before all of that and that he knows that the kingdom will be fine in Caramel's hands. (He already didn't feel too confident in the start of the og story I just kinda focused on it 🤷🏽.

Also Cacao didn't randomly tried to kill Choco in the middle of the story he just felt bad for being the reason for his son to have joined the dark side all because of their fight long ago, another reason for him to pass his throne and jam to somebody he trusts.

Affogato didn't manage to run away, instead getting caught by the Beast Tamers and jailed until Caramel was crowned and decided what to do with him. She makes him join the Beast Tamers as punishment (knows he doesn't like getting dirty)

A lot of cookies didn't like that decision but Carrow has Principals™ and wouldn't kill anyone who was defenseless (now that Affogato didn't have followers, weapons or venom or whatever). She acknowledged that at the same time as she still hates his guts.

Vanilla Kingdom:

Pure Vanilla passes his jam to Black Raisin after she saved everyone's asses in the end of ep 12. They rebuilder the kingdom and then she got the jam. Kinda became the leader of the kingdom since she doesn't like a title like "queen", feels too abundant and she doesn't like it.

Umm nothing changes much rlly. Everything's fine until the odyssey stuff happens (I'm still getting into it)

Hollyberry Kingdom:

Hollyberry being gone was the last straw for Pitaya, who took the kingdom for themself to try and get her attention (misses their wife). A princess contest was made to settle the next heir after Royalberry just to be sure, as the soul jam was kept a secret from Pitaya so they didn't use it to get Holly's attention too. For that, Royal didn't have the power (or courage) to confront Pitaya using it, and even ordered the royal guards to not mess with Pitaya, even Wildberry (look at what divorce leads to /silly).

Like in the story, Princess invades the context and wins it, giving Royal courage to use the shield with the soul jam and fight confront Pitaya with Princess in the only way Pitaya would listen: in a fight. Hollyberry eventually joins in too, her role is very similar to the one she has in the og story, except she was thereby get the soul jam back but decides to let Royal stay with it.

Cookies of Darkness:

Choco got White Lily's/Dark Enchantress' soul jam as he's the most powerful (combat-wise) of the cookies of darkness. Even if upset about not being chosen to be its holder, Pomegranate stills obeys her master and keeps controlling Choco with his blade (now powered by the soul jam) to get to her goals.

After ep 14 Choco doesn't give up on the sword, as Pomegranate stops him before he does. He still thinks about running away for a while though, but since Pomegranate has even more power over him because of both the cursed sword and the corrupted soul jam he still has to find out how to make his body stable without Pomegranate's help.

He eventually does, taking the soul jam and Poison Mushroom with him. He still struggles with how corrupted his body became, but finally the voices are gone and he can focus on himself. He only took Poison Mushroom because he felt bad leaving a child behind (and mayyybe he got attached. They reminded him a liiittle bit of Caramel from when he first started training her)