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#i simply have no human words to describe my feelings so i just destroy my keyboard
sleep-nurse · 7 months
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My heart skipped a beat when I saw all that text anjelufuskgus
when you draw something for me you HAVE to prepare yourself for an atomic bomb (i'm the atomic bomb) (i explode immediately)
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starlightkun · 6 months
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❧ word count: 25.5k ❧ warnings: cursing, neck/shoulder biting and marking if you’re squeamish about that, talking about like werewolf scenting and stuff, blood, brief kissing with blood on/around mouths, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol ❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first! this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from changer to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc), and if you were able to survive changer, then you deserve a medal. and this is that medal, i suppose!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!
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The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?
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“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Sung.” You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend, holding him close with no hesitation, even as his own arms were much slower to react. But once they did, he pulled you to him with a nearly crushing force, a strength that could all but make you forget that he was only half-werewolf.
Tonight, he’d let you stay with him for one of his shifts. It was exactly because he was half-werewolf that he’d even considered it in the first place, his shifts were much less intense than full werewolves, generally less violent and possibly dangerous for anybody who happened to be around him. He’d described it to you after the last full moon, that it was more just sort of painful, confusing, and sometimes sort of like when drunk-you left problems for sober-you, like drunk-dialing people or spending too much money online. Except in his case, werewolf-him generally destroyed smaller pieces of property like school notes or clothes. When he said that he always asked Shotaro to leave the night of the full moon, you asked if you could be with him the next time. It sounded terrible to have to do that alone every month. And to your surprise, he’d only responded with a weak ‘please?’
So when you’d arrived this afternoon, you’d taken everything out of his room that you feasibly could that he didn’t want to chew up: his bookbag, textbooks, nice sneakers, photo albums, laptop, etc. And then you’d locked the door, and stayed with him.
Now he was coming out of it—a glance at his bedside clock that had been knocked out of place but was otherwise fine told you that it was almost three in the morning. You cradled the back of his fully-human-again head, not minding the matted, damp hair.
“I’m right here,” you reminded him. “I didn’t go anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”
You felt him shudder as he let out what sounded like a whine of pain. It made you worried about him staying up on his own two feet. “Sung? Do you need to lay down?”
He didn’t answer, and you realized he might not be back at the point where he could speak yet. Before you could finish weighing your options of attempting to drag the 186cm still partially-shifted half-werewolf to his bed by yourself, he’d buried his face in your neck, opened his mouth, and was resting his set of sharp canines against the curve of where your neck met your shoulder.
You breathed in through your nose, hand still on his head as he just… waited. For what, you couldn’t say. He was still whining softly, though now there was a slight undertone of need cutting through the pain you’d heard earlier.
Your hand was still resting on his head, and you gently pulled him closer, feeling the dull pressure of his teeth against your skin. “It’s okay, Sung. Whatever you need. I trust you.”
Finally, he closed his jaw. But it wasn’t a bite at all, it was more like a toddler teething on something cold to soothe their aching gums while their new teeth grew in. It didn’t hurt; he certainly wasn’t breaking skin, and you doubted that any marks would be left. The worst damage would be slobber, you were sure. If anything, it just… tickled. Suppressing a giggle at the feeling, you stroked his hair affectionately.
“There you go, Sung. There you go…” You murmured quietly. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay, baby…”
“Bite…” He finally let out a grunt that sounded akin to a real word.
“What? What was that?” You tried to pull your head back to be able to look him in the face, but he didn’t want to detach from you in the slightest, his whines becoming less pained and more pathetic. Giving up on the task, you shook your head just a little, “Never mind, sorry. But what were you saying, Sung? Something about biting? You didn’t chew anything up this time, actually. We kept you in check pretty well. Your wallet will thank us, I’m sure.”
Sungchan continued to mouth at your neck a couple more times before he gave another full body shudder and tremble, then fell to his knees. As wrapped up in each other as you were, you went down with him, your kneecaps only saved by the fact that he had a nice plush rug. Your forehead wasn’t so lucky, as it got cracked against his on the way down, and you bit your tongue as a result.
“Shit!” You hissed, but couldn’t even focus on your own pain for very long, because Sungchan was now leaning most of his weight forward onto you. You quickly readjusted hold him up by the underarms. “Woah, woah. You alright, Sung?”
“I… bite…” He groaned again.
“You bite your tongue too?” You guessed humorously, scooting to sit on the floor against his bed and ushering him to lay down with his head in your lap. Ideally, you’d be in the bed, not on the floor next to it, but this was close enough.
Sungchan curled up in your lap as if he’d forgotten how big he was, fitting as much of the top half of his body there as he could. It was as he turned over slightly onto his side that you finally got a good look at his face again and saw just how exhausted he looked. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and his skin was warm, flushed, and drenched with sweat. You gently brushed the damp bangs away from his forehead with one hand, reaching your other up towards his nightstand. After fumbling around in the top drawer for a ridiculous amount of time considering you’d put it literally right on top, you finally grabbed the lunchbox filled with cold, damp washcloths and ice packs that you’d stored in there earlier.
Unzipping it, the ice packs were all melted, but the washcloths were still nice and cool, which was what you really needed. Taking the first one, you blotted it along Sungchan’s forehead, cheeks, and neck, following it up with fleeting touches of your hand to assess if it was really helping or not. Judging by the small, soft, not painful sigh he let out, it at least didn’t seem to be hurting.
“Y/N…” He panted, grabbing your wrist as you were pressing the washcloth to his cheek.
“Yep, I’m right here, Sung,” you reassured him, putting your other hand over his. “I’m right here, okay?”
“I…”
“Do you need something, baby? Water? Food?
“I want…”
You dropped the washcloth from his face to listen attentively. “Yeah, Sung?”
His eyes finally opened, letting you see that his irises were still the same glowing, burning amber as earlier in the night. Not quite out of his shift yet. He sat up until he was nearly level with your neck, breathing in deeply. His grip on your wrist tightened, then he all but collapsed back onto your lap again, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Mm… I should… We should… I wan’ to…” He was slurring his words like he was drunk, chest heaving with every breath, and his grip on your wrist relaxed until he was loosely holding your hand, pulling it down to cradle your forearm to his chest like it was a stuffed animal. “Wan’… give you my mating bite… Y/N…”
You stared down at Sungchan with wide, dumbstruck eyes. As he slowly blinked, you could see that his eyes were still that same bright gold. He just shifted further up to try to fit more of himself in your lap, though, pressing his head against your stomach and wedging his shoulder in the gap left by your criss-crossed legs.
Even as you were so shocked, you curled up and readjusted to mold your body around him, one hand giving his head a soft, reassuring pat as the other rubbed up and down his arm, soothing over the surely tired muscles.
“You…” You trailed off in your attempt to get clarification, unable to even begin to try to rephrase it yourself. In packs, mated werewolf couples bit each other in elaborate rituals. Neither of you were any of those things. Could Sungchan even give a werewolf mating bite, as a half-werewolf? Could you receive one? You definitely couldn’t give him one back. Wouldn’t he want one back? Or maybe not? Not to mention he wasn’t in a pack and had never been in his life. What did a mating bite mean to him?
God, your head hurt, and you weren’t even the one who had gone through a werewolf shift tonight.
Sungchan took another deep breath, and long, slow blink, his eyes almost back to their normal brown color. “‘Cause I… I love you. I wan’ to… ‘cause I love you… my… Y/N.”
His eyes fluttered shut, and you heard his breathing even out as he finally fell asleep in just a few moments.
It didn’t seem like you’d get the answer to any of those questions tonight. And as much as the idea of going any longer without knowing made your stomach twist into painful, uncomfortable knots, Sungchan needed the rest. He wasn’t in the right state for any sort of conversation like that. There wouldn’t be any way he’d be able to answer your questions even if you could force yourself to ask them.
Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently peck his hair. “Your Y/N loves you too, Sung…”
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Your back ached. You had a crick in your neck. And another one in your back. And another one in another part of your back. And yet another one in one more part of your back. You groaned, rolling over in bed to try to crack some of the kinks out without having to actually get up.
That gave you pause. There was definitely a mattress underneath you, blankets covering you, and a pillow supporting your head. But you remembered falling asleep on the floor next to Sungchan’s bed after his shift last night.
Squinting one eye open suspiciously, you saw that it was still very dark in his room, but you had without a doubt been mysteriously tucked into his bed. Much too tired to investigate past that, you pulled the blankets up over your head and buried your face in your pillow, very quickly falling back asleep.
When you woke up again, it was brighter outside, and at first you thought Sungchan had put a weighted blanket on you in the middle of the night. Odd choice, considering you didn’t have one on you the first time you woke up, or at least that you could remember. And then you realized that Sungchan was your weighted blanket.
Your boyfriend was fully snuggled up on top of your back, completely passed out, as you were dozing on your front. You couldn’t even roll him over, he was dead weight. With a sigh, you closed your eyes again, wondering if you’d be able to go back to sleep for a second—third?—time this morning.
“You up?” He mumbled in your ear, voice barely above a hoarse grumble.
“You’re awake?” You asked in disbelief.
“Yeah?”
“So you’re suffocating me on purpose?”
He rolled off onto the mattress next to you, and immediately your lungs could work better. “Oh, so when you do it to me, it’s cute and I’m supposed to enjoy it, but when I do it, it’s attempted murder and ‘Ouch, Sungchan, get off of me, you’re crushing me with your big, huge werewolf muscles.’”
“So I don’t need to ask if you’re feeling better,” you scoffed, but nevertheless shifted onto your side to face him.
He wasn’t pink-faced and sweaty anymore, instead looking unnaturally pale, with dark circles under his eyes like he’d pulled two all-nighters in a row for finals week. You cupped his cheek, gently running your thumb under one of his eyes. His skin wasn’t warm to the touch, instead it felt the same temperature as yours—cold for a werewolf or half-werewolf.
“You’ve got a chill, Sung,” you observed with a frown, taking your hand back as you prepared to get up.
“It’s normal, baby,” he reassured you, grabbing your arm to keep you from leaving. “Just uh… returning to homeostasis or whatever. I’ll be okay.”
“Alright… if you say so…” you sighed, staying put and pressing a kiss to his forehead, sneakily taking note of his temperature that way instead. “You can at least eat, right? Breakfast sound good?”
“Sure. In a minute.”
“You stay here, I’ll go make you something. Breakfast in bed. What’s better than that?”
He pretended to deliberate on this, then grabbed you with two arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “This.”
Tucked under his chin, you couldn’t look up to read his face, instead just staring at his t-shirt. “Really? You’re not hungry?”
“A little. But I won’t die if I don’t eat right now.”
“Are you implying that you’ll die if we don’t cuddle right now?”
“Yes,” he replied dramatically. “Absolutely. I’ll simply perish if I don’t get my Y/N time this instant.”
You couldn’t help but snicker at that, finally giving in. Not forgetting about his drop in temperature, you made sure to pull the blankets up around you two before you fully snuggled in, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into his chest.
“Alright, alright. Slow your roll on your imminent decay. I’m right here, Sung. Like I said last night, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You did say that, didn’t you?” He mused, tangling your legs together.
“Yeah, I did.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. “Uhm… How much do you remember about your shifts?”
“While I’m fully shifted? Not a lot usually. Immediately before and after? Depends. Why? Did I do something?”
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the feeling of his teeth on your neck, of him asking to bite you, to give you his mating bite. Did he remember that? Sungchan wasn’t bringing it up… Surely he’d mention it again now if he remembered, or was serious about it.
“Well, afterwards… you were kind of saying some stuff. I just didn’t know if you—”
“Hey… look at me?” Sungchan requested as he leaned back from you. When you’d picked up your head to oblige, he looked you in the eye with no hesitation, his face entirely serious now. “Of course I meant it when I said I love you. I’m sorry I said it to you for the first time looking like a hot fucking mess, and again now not in much better shape, but I mean it all the same. I love you, my Y/N. So much. So goddamn much I feel like I could explode if I don’t tell you every 5 seconds. Except you might get kind of tired of me if I did that.”
Despite it not being the words you were expecting to hear, you were beaming from ear to ear, even managing out a choked laugh through the happy tears suddenly welling up in your eyes.
“Woah, hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry with how bad my confession was,” he joked, wiping at the first tear as it slipped down your cheek.
“Oh shut it!” You chastised him. “What have I told you about being a sweetheart?”
“Own up to it or don’t do it at all,” he recited dutifully. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you, so fucking much and I’m going to explode if you don’t say it back maybe? But no pressure? Also, I love you. And no pressure to say it back right now.”
“Oh my god, Sung, I love you too,” you laughed, grabbing his face in both of your hands to pull his mouth to yours. “So fucking much.”
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Dr. and Mr. Jung lived in a two-story townhouse just a couple blocks over from campus. The old bricks on the face of it were a warm red, and as you got closer, you saw that there were shimmery flecks mixed into the rogue.
“How old are these buildings?” You asked Sungchan, reaching out to touch one of the bricks around the entryway. “There’s dragon scales in the brick.”
“There’s what?” Sungchan’s eyes widened, and you pointed to a particularly large chunk, about the size of the head of a thumbtack. It reflected amber in the setting sun.
“Dragon scales. They used to be incorporated into building materials to make them more durable. You know, before integration. There’s been really big debates at like, every open-door City Hall meeting about if we should keep buildings up that have dragon scale brick in them or not, since so many dragons had to be killed to make them.”
“Oh my god.”
“So far it looks like they’re going to move towards tearing down abandoned buildings made of dragon scale brick at least.”
“How-How many dragons? Were killed?”
“We have no way to know. And the thing is, you can gather dragon scales without hurting a dragon, it’s just not going to be enough to make dragon scale brick of any usable quantity.”
“So it should’ve never been made.”
“No. It shouldn’t have.” You turned away from the wall with a shake of your head. “Anyway, that’s why I was asking how old these homes are. They’re by the university, so pretty old, I guess.”
“I have no clue. You’d have to ask my parents.” Sungchan ushered you towards the door with a hand on the small of your back.
“I don’t think I will. Not incredible meet-the-parents dinner conversation, really.”
“As much I want to say they’ll love you anyway, which they would, I do have to agree with you. Maybe save the existential horror of the materials of their home for the second dinner.” He kissed the top of your head.
“Will do.” You nodded. “Now, are you going to knock on the door, or are we going to keep standing out here like we’re casing the place?”
“Oh, sorry, you can’t hear that. My mom’s—”
And then the sound of the front door unlocking came, and you looked up at Sungchan questioningly. It was opened by a face familiar to you only from pictures.
Dr. Jung was already beaming at you. “Hello! Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you, Y/N. I was grading in my office and could hear you two coming up the steps, got a bit excited.” She gestured to the window next to the brick that you’d been discussing.
Dr. Jung was an economics professor at your university, though you’d never taken a class from her personally.
“I was about to give you a heads up,” Sungchan patted you on the back. “I heard her footsteps, that’s—”
“—why you weren’t knocking. Of course.” You nodded, then turned your focus back to Sungchan’s mother. “It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Jung.”
“You too, Y/N.” She was still smiling ear-to-ear as she reached forward to take your hands. “You’ll have to tell me more about the history of these dragon scale bricks, I truly had no idea.”
You looked at Sungchan in alarm, and he just shrugged. But she was already leading you into the house by your hand, your boyfriend trailing behind.
“Mom, I don’t even get a hug? No hello for your own son?” Sungchan complained dramatically, closing the door behind you three.
“Well since you’re going to be a big baby about it.” A man’s voice suddenly joined in as you had emerged from the front hallway into the living room. You turned around towards the stairs to see Sungchan’s dad standing on the bottom step, still not eye level with his son even with the added height. He wrapped his arms around Sungchan with an affectionate fake growl, and your boyfriend eagerly hugged his dad back.
Mr. Jung was a middle school science teacher, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was where Sungchan got his love for science from. He never said it specifically, but he’d told you plenty of stories of doing home science experiments with his dad as a kid.
“Hey, Dad.” He was grinning so brightly as he pulled away, then eagerly gestured to you. “Dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my dad.”
“Jung Yoonseo, how are you?” The other human greeted you. But your gaze got stuck on the dip of Mr. Jung’s shoulder, where his neck met shoulder, and two-thirds of a dark bite mark were visible above the collar of his shirt.
You tore your eyes away from the mating bite to look up at his face, smiling again. “I’m good, Mr. Jung, thank you. How are you?”
“I’m very well.” He nodded to you, starting towards the connected kitchen.
“Oh, honey, Y/N was just telling me that apparently our home is made of dragon scale brick,” Dr. Jung pulled you into the kitchen as well.
Mr. Jung turned around from where he’d started peeling a vegetable to look at his wife curiously. “Sorry, you said dragon scales, Jieun?”
“Yes! Go on, Y/N. I didn’t catch much of what you were telling Sungchan, I came to get you all as soon as I heard that you’d arrived.”
You looked to Sungchan imploringly, but he just shrugged again, then mouthed something that looked like ‘go for it’ to you. So you inhaled, and went for it.
“Dr. and Mr. Jung, do you two know how old your house is?”
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“I think that went pretty well,” Sungchan declared as the two of you walked down the sidewalks hand-in-hand later that evening. He had a bag filled with containers of leftovers in his other hand.
“Glad you think so. I felt like Renjun, giving people impromptu lectures at the most out-of-pocket times,” you scoffed.
“Yeah, and they loved it. My parents are big nerds like you.”
“You’re literally a STEM major.”
“Point taken.”
“So your dad wasn’t just being nice when he invited me over for tea, then?”
Your boyfriend looked down at you with wide eyes. “When did he do that?”
“When you and your mom were packing up the leftovers and he was showing me the backyard. I forgot how it came up, but I’d mentioned the boba shop, and he said if I liked tea, then I was welcome to come over for a cup anytime. Since he’s still on summer break and everything.”
Despite the smile that had creeped across his face as you spoke, you furrowed your brow suspiciously.
“What? What are you smiling for?”
He surprised you by smooching your temple loudly. “I was wrong. It didn’t go pretty well. It went great.”
“Being invited over for tea is a good sign?” You asked cautiously.
“Definitely.” He stopped the two of you on the deserted sidewalk, letting go of your hand just to immediately seize your waist, pulling you towards him. The surprised noise you were about to make got muffled by Sungchan sealing his lips over yours. You curled a hand around the back of his neck as the other gripped onto his forearm for some kind of stability as he kissed you breathless.
As he pulled back to look down at you with that same big, tender grin, you couldn’t help but let out an airy giggle.
“And what was that for?”
“I love you. And do I need a reason to kiss my amazing, beautiful girlfriend?” He punctuated each of the last three words with more kisses to your cheek this time, making you giggle again.
“Like that, in the middle of the street? Yes.” You pinched his side teasingly, earning a laugh as he squirmed away from your touch. You made sure to tack on an, “I love you too, Sung.”
“We’re not in the street, we’re on the sidewalk.”
Before you could give your retort, he’d caught your lips in another sweet kiss, and all banter was gone from your mind.
“Are you staying at my place?” Sungchan asked when you’d finally restarted your journey.
“Let’s do my place tonight, hm?” You suggested, squeezing his hand.
He tilted his head, an adorable, confused pout on his face. “Why?”
“Because I don’t have some poor roommate that we’ll be annoying.”
“Says the girl who used to specifically ask if Shotaro was going to be home before she’d agree to come over,” he snickered.
“I did that because I had a huge crush on you and you’d friendzoned me, you ass.” You elbowed him in the side teasingly. “Having Taro there made it easier to ignore the aching hole in my chest whenever I looked at you, you dick.”
You landed a gentle mock punch that was in actuality a light tap to his chest, but Sungchan was no longer laughing. He looked down at you, pensive sadness on his features.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to articulate how much I regret putting you through that. You didn’t deserve to ever feel… an aching hole, because of me.”
“Ah, Sung.” You hugged his arm to your chest, resting your head against his shoulder as you walked. “I know you would’ve never done that to me on purpose. But if we can’t laugh about it—about the uh, admittedly kind of funny scenario we put ourselves in before we started dating—then we’ll never be able to really move past it. We’re together now, and that’s what really matters.”
He sighed. “I agree. I just… I don’t think I’m past the feeling bad part yet.”
“That’s okay.” You squeezed his upper arm reassuringly. “Just don’t beat yourself up on my account. Alright?”
“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the small smile in his voice.
“So, my place?”
“I just remembered that my mom put in some leftovers for Shotaro. Kelp rolls.”
“We should probably take that to him, huh?”
“Yeah…”
“Hopefully that’ll be enough to counteract us existing around him.”
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Shotaro was enthused to receive his kelp rolls, not even commenting on you staying the night as he excitedly took his food into his room.
“You want something to eat?” Sungchan asked as he put the rest of the leftovers in the fridge.
“No. I ate plenty at your parents’ house.” You shook your head. Stretching and yawning, you started towards the hallway with their bedrooms. “You make your little post-dinner snack. Feed your half-werewolf metabolism. I’m going to get ready for bed.”
“Feel free to take a sweatshirt or something.”
“Way ahead of you.”
Your boyfriend found you a few minutes later already curled up in his bed, bundled up in just one of his oversized hoodies. He scooted in next to you, encouraging you to move your head from the pillow to his lap as you went to snuggle up to his side instead.
“Whatcha eating, Sung?” You mumbled, mouth splitting into another yawn. All you could tell was that he had a bowl of some kind of finger food, as he’d brought no utensil in with him.
“Some fruit. Strawberries, honeydew, blueberries… Oh, you want a grape?”
“I’m still not entirely convinced that you’re not trying to fatten me up to eat, you know?” You said teasingly. “Like some mix of the witch from Hansel and Gretel and the big bad wolf from Little Red Riding Hood…”
“Banana slice?”
But you knew it was just his instinct to feed you, so you always indulged him to a certain extent—not so much that you felt like you were going to burst, but enough to calm his need to know that you were well-fed.
“Mm, grape.” You opened your mouth like a baby bird. He deposited the fruit on your tongue, but due to how you were laying, it landed more-so on the inside of your cheek. You had to sit up and prop yourself up on an elbow to chew and swallow properly without choking, but then promptly laid back down, nuzzling your face into his thigh.
Just a few seconds later, he asked you through a full mouth, “Baby? You want another?”
“I’m good, Sung, thank you,” you replied sweetly. “Your dad’s a really good cook, I ate a lot at dinner.”
“Yeah, he is,” he agreed proudly.
“Now finish your food so you can cuddle me to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And less than ten minutes later, you were laid on your side, pulled flush to Sungchan’s front, your back to his chest and your legs tangled together. You had one of his arms ensnared, fingers laced loosely with his as you wrapped the limb tighter around you. His face was buried in your neck, planting absentminded kisses to your skin as you were gently floating between waking and sleep.
“I used to think you liked him, for a little bit, you know,” Sungchan murmured next to your ear, clearly a sudden blurting from his own train of thought that you weren’t privy to.
Oh, this sounded like a conversation. You squinted your eyes open blearily, turning over in his arms to face him. Throwing a leg over his to pull him closer, you offered him a sleepy smile and asked, “Who?”
He readjusted to keep holding you like that, one hand resting where the bottom of the hoodie had ridden up around your hip, settling on your thigh. His thumb and forefinger messed with the hem of the sweater, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in the dim light as he swallowed.
“Shotaro. Since you’d always ask if he was going to be at the apartment. But your heartrate never went up around him.”
You hummed in amusement, reaching out to gently pinch the tip of his nose. “Endearing that you were listening to my heartbeat to figure out if I liked your roommate.”
“But it did… go up around me sometimes. I knew that,” he confessed, his eyes locking on yours, desperate. Like he was searching, asking you for something. Absolution, penance, maybe. “And it made me happy. Even though I had told myself that I shouldn’t have you. It still… made me happy at first, but then it’d make me sad. That you hadn’t moved on. Because I thought you’d deserved to move on.”
But he’d done no sin that you needed to cleanse him of in your eyes. He was a guy who made a few mistakes and then finally made the right choice. After you smacked him upside the head with it, but nobody was perfect. The person who really needed to forgive him was himself. He was still stuck in the past, seemingly afraid that he could lose you at any moment. But he wasn’t going to, and you wished he would just believe that.
“But you got me now,” you promised, cradling his face and wishing he could feel just how much you really meant those words.
“I do.” He brought his hand up to cover your own, and you felt like you could cry. “I do got you now.”
“And I’ve got you.”
“You’ve always had me. I just hadn’t told you yet. But you’ve always had me,” Sungchan admitted with a bittersweet smile, curling his hand around yours.
You surged forward to close the minute gap between the two of you, kissing him so hard that your lips hurt. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands grabbed at his shoulders, his clothes, anything to pull him closer to you. He was hugging you tight to him, thank god, because it felt like you could never be close enough. Your bones ached with a need to break the laws of physics and exist in the same time and space as him, and a tiny part of you believed that if you just wanted it enough, if you tried hard enough, maybe you could.
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“You know, I thought all I’d feel was relief when you and Sungchan finally got together, but instead I’m plagued by near constant nausea.”
You stopped in your tracks in the hallway. You’d been trying to quietly pee then hurry back into Sungchan’s room the next morning, but instead, you spun around to face Shotaro, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
He was standing in front of his door at the opposite end of the hall, arms crossed over his chest.
“Maybe go see a witch about that. It sounds serious,” you wrinkled your nose teasingly. Thankfully you’d had the wherewithal to pull on a pair of sleep shorts you had stashed in Sungchan’s drawers before leaving his room that morning.
“Yeah, that and my recently developed insomnia, too,” he scoffed. “Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep, you know.”
Your skin burned as you started shuffling backwards towards Sungchan’s room. “Sorry! Bye!”
You slammed the door behind you, startling Sungchan awake.
“Huh?” He blinked sleepily, lifting his head to look around.
You launched yourself back into bed, burying your face in the pillow in shame.
“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” Sungchan’s voice was thick and deep this early in the morning, but you couldn’t even focus on that. He rubbed your back soothingly as you shook your head.
You turned your head just enough to clear your mouth to speak. “We should’ve gone to my place... No roommate...”
“Oh, Shotaro giving you a hard time?”
“‘Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep.’” You did your best Shotaro impression. “I don’t think it was enough kelp rolls.”
“Ah, I’m-I’m sorry, baby.” Sungchan kept rubbing your back, but you could hear that he was holding back laughter.
You rolled onto your back, shooting him a glare before staring up at the ceiling. “Why do I always let you talk me into staying at your place?”
“Because you love me,” he replied in a sing-song voice, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheekbone, near your hairline.
“Yeah, but I mean, why do we always end up at your apartment, Sung? Why do you never want to come over to mine?”
The teasing dropped from his tone as he straightened up slightly. “It’s not like that, Y/N. I like spending time with you, no matter where we are. We could be in the cold vacuum of space, and I’d be fine with it as long as we were hanging out. And, in space suits so we didn’t die, you know. But, it’s just... I don’t know, I like having you here. In my space. It feels like everything’s right in the universe, like I know everything will be okay, that you’re going to be okay. As stupid as that sounds—”
“No, Sung, it’s not stupid.” You shifted to face him, brushing some hair back from his face. The same anxiety that you’d seen the night before was painted across his features again, and you didn’t like that you were seeing it more and more often. His sentiments weren’t stupid, they were loving, but the root of them concerned you. Was he constantly plagued by worries of something bad happening to you?
“Not at all...” You reiterated softly, running your thumb over the crease between his brows. “Sung? Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you have class today but… can I stay here? While you’re on campus? Then we can do something together when you get back. We can go downtown or something.”
You could feel his face relax again under your touch, and he nodded with a smile.
“Yeah, of course. If you think you can handle being around Shotaro for that long. He’s off work today.”
“I’ll manage, somehow.”
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When it was finally time for Sungchan to go to class, though, you encountered an issue.
“Sung, you need to go to class,” you sighed, nudging him from where he had his arms wrapped around you. You’d been lounging on the couch when it struck time for him to finally depart for campus, but you were now dealing with a clingy werewolf.
“The professor doesn’t count attendance for a grade,” he grumbled. “I can skip.”
“You literally said this morning that you had a quiz today.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did, you liar,” you scoffed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “And you need to go take that quiz.”
Shotaro, meanwhile, was observing the entire thing from the threshold between the living room and the hallway, a fascinating mixture of equal parts disgust and amusement on his features. You looked at him pleadingly for any kind of assistance, and he rolled his eyes, but nevertheless helped you anyway.
“Sungchan, dude, seriously,” Shotaro sighed, his tone on the border of exasperation and understanding. “Y/N’s wearing your clothes, staying in our apartment, and you haven’t let her go for I think the past four hours straight, not even to pee. You’ve scented her up enough to last the next month, a few hours will be fine.”
Your jaw set as there was a sudden spark of recognition in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t follow that train of thought in the moment. Sungchan loosened his grip on you, sitting up and blinking as if woken from a trance. “R-Right. Sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s okay, Sung,” you smiled, standing up and yanking him to his feet as well. You practically dragged him towards the front door, shoving his backpack in his hands. “Now go, you’re going to be late.”
He looked down at you with a small, fond smile as well, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “Bye, love you.”
“I love you too.” You got up on your tiptoes to give him a fleeting kiss goodbye, and he wrapped an arm around you for a hug. You were worried that this was about to be another borderline hostage situation, but he took one more inhale near your neck, then let you go and straightened up.
“Okay. See you in a few.” He said, his hand on the door handle.
“Go, Sungchan.”
“Fine, fine. Bye.”
And with that, he was finally gone. You turned back around to Shotaro, letting out a sigh of relief. The siren just chuckled, shaking his head.
“Werewolves, dude.” He flopped onto the opposite side of the couch from where you and Sungchan had just been.
You sat back down, kicking your feet up and pulling out your phone. “Yeah. Werewolves...”
Shotaro started flicking through a streaming service to try to find something to watch. “Hey wait, shouldn’t he be scenting you less since he’s a half-werewolf?”
“I... don’t know,” you admitted. “There’s not really any sort of research on half-werewolves. We don’t know anything about what they ‘should’ be like. Not even one of those unethical case studies from the 1800s.”
“Huh. But like I was saying earlier, you two make me nauseous.”
“Just put on your trashy reality TV that we know you’re going to pick after scrolling around for 30 minutes.”
“The browsing is part of the experience.”
As Shotaro browsed on the TV then eventually picked a show, you searched on your phone. The Real Sirens of Diamond Bay was great background noise as you dug through the internet, and you barely even realized the time until your friend was calling for your attention from the kitchen.
“Hm?” You looked up from the forum post that you’d been reading.
“I asked if you wanted lunch.” He opened the fridge, taking out the containers of leftovers you and your boyfriend had brought home last night. “Or if only Sungchan could feed you.”
“Yeah, sure, I could eat.” You joined him in the kitchen, stretching out your back. “So you noticed that too, huh?”
“Oh, the pre-mating behaviors? Well, you did give me a very convenient list when you were still in your denial phase.”
You punched his arm, making him nearly drop the plates he’d just gotten from the cabinet.
“Ow!” He rubbed the spot with a pout, handing you one of the dishes. “Rude... I’m feeding you food from my fridge.”
“No, I’m letting you eat my leftovers,” you corrected him. “Dr. Jung made us take all the steamed buns because she knew they were my favorite.”
Shotaro had been loading said steamed buns up onto his plate, then started shoveling the rest of them onto yours. “Calm down, I wasn’t taking them all.”
You looked at the empty container with a sigh, putting half of yours back. “Well, we can’t just leave nothing for Sung.”
After you’d made your plates with minimal bickering and warmed them up, you took them to the small dining table in the corner of the living room to eat. Shotaro continued playing the episode he’d been on for ambiance as he engaged you in conversation.
“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” He asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”
You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”
“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”
“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”
“Gross.”
“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”
“Does it ever stop?”
You grimaced, “Well…”
“No?” Shotaro asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.
“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.
“After…?”
“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”
The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”
“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”
You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”
“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”
You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…
“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.
Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”
“Shotaro—”
“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”
“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”
“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”
“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”
You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”
“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”
“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”
“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”
“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”
“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”
“I… need to talk to some other people, I think.” You turned your eyes downwards as you tried to really think about it.
“That wasn’t a no! Hell yeah! I’m so going to be Sungchan’s best man!”
You rolled your eyes. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”
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As you finished up your lunch, your mind wouldn’t stop turning over what Shotaro had said. If Sungchan had been serious, would you say yes? You knew from class what the bite meant to werewolves within packs, but did it mean the same thing to Sungchan since he was half-werewolf? Did that even make a difference? Not to mention that you weren’t any part werewolf, the exchanging of bites was supposed to be an entire ritual similar to a couple exchanging rings on their wedding day. You couldn’t exactly bite him back. And the couple online was already legally married anyway…
Well, you did know one other werewolf/human couple that you could talk to, at least. You quickly texted Jeno.
[you: hey, are you home right now?]
Miraculously, he texted back almost immediately.
[jeno: yeah, just got back from a run]
[jeno: why?]
[you: mind if i come over really quick? need some advice on something with sung]
[jeno: oh sure]
[jeno: everything okay? should i have tissues out…?]
[you: omg no like werewolf stuff]
[jeno: oh good]
[you: thanks though. be over in a few]
Standing up from the couch, you stood off to the side of the TV so you didn’t block Shotaro’s show as you announced, “I’ll be right back.”
The siren gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement as his focus remained on the screen. You nodded before hurrying to pull your shoes on. The last thing to do before leaving was shoot off a text to Sungchan.
[you: hey sung, i’ve got a quick errand to run. i should be back before you get home from class, but just in case i’m not, i’ll be coming right back to the apartment! love you!]
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“Hey, Jeno, thanks for having me over on such short notice.” You offered your friend a nervous smile as you stepped into his apartment.
“I’m not your professor that you’re seeing outside of his office hours, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind you. “Don’t worry about it. What’s up? You said it’s something about Sungchan?”
“Is your girlfriend here?” You looked around the living room as the two of you sat down.
Jeno tilted his head curiously. “No, she’s at the bakery this afternoon. Did you need her too?”
“Not necessarily, it’s just...” You dropped your head into your hands, frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Try to start at the beginning?”
“Right. Sung let me be with him on the last full moon.”
“Wow. I haven’t even done that.” Jeno sounded genuinely impressed.
“Well… Uhm, do you know? About Sung?”
He stared at you blankly. “Need you to be way more specific here. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
You tried to pick your words carefully to give him enough of a hint if he did know without outright telling him if he didn’t know. You were sure that Sungchan wouldn’t mind if Jeno knew that he was half-werewolf, but you still didn’t feel like that was your place to go around telling people. “About his parents?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Your friend nodded in recognition. “Half-werewolf, that’s why he was able to have you there, duh.”
“Anyway, when he was coming back out of the shift afterwards, he mentioned us... he mentioned the werewolf mating bite.”
His eyes widened as he took a short inhale before slowly starting with, “Well, I can tell that you two haven’t done that.”
“I figured. So, with Sung being half-werewolf, he’s been having a difficult time with the scenting. I think because he can smell it enough to notice it, but not as strongly as full werewolves...”
“He would have a higher threshold for scenting in order to register it, right. Hence your current attire, I’m guessing?” Jeno gestured to the large black leather jacket you were currently drowning in, which was much too hot for the sweltering summer heat that was still going on outside, but still a better option than the hoodie you had previously been in.
You gave a resigned, what-can-you-do smile. “Yeah. And he’s not going to say anything about it, but I know he’s going to be stressed when I see him after this and he can smell you and Jaemin.”
“Oh, definitely.” He snorted lightly, not judgmental, but more sympathetic. “Let me guess: he gets all needy and clingy? Likes to bury his face in your neck?”
“Exactly. And the cuddles would be nice but, I don’t know... I hate seeing him like this, you know? So... anxious. It’s not like him.” You sighed, beginning to feel more guilty the longer you stayed here and got wrapped up in the smells of other people.
“It’s the first time in his life the wolf side is in charge of him and not the other way around. He’s really understanding what it’s like being a full werewolf outside of the full moon, of course he’s not having a good time.”
“Is it like that for you? With her?”
“Kind of. I can smell everything better, so I can smell the subtler things. Without going into too much detail, all those instincts aren’t on edge for me as much as Sungchan’s are right now. And we also figured something else out.”
“Something else?” You asked curiously. Last time you saw Jeno’s girlfriend, you couldn’t remember her having a bite mark. But maybe there was something that hadn’t been covered in your classes. After all, several millennia of the cultures, histories, and customs of fourteen species just couldn’t be fit into one undergrad degree. Your bachelor’s was nothing more than a survey of the two fields, to give you the broad strokes and the tools to start wading in.
Jeno pulled on a leather cord that you hadn’t even noticed was hanging around his neck, bringing a pendant out from under his collar. It was a pale white stone, flat, the size of a coin, with opalescent flecks that caught the light as he showed it to you.
“Moonstone. We have matching ones. They’re even enchanted so that when I…” he wrapped his whole hand around the stone “…hold onto it a little tighter, it reacts, and she can feel hers warm up too. So she knows I’m thinking about her.”
“And it helps with your shifts. That’s really sweet, Jeno,” you said, watching as he tucked it back under his shirt, presumably to keep it in skin-to-skin contact so he could feel if she squeezed her gem back in response.
“But that’s what works for us. It needs to be whatever works for you guys.”
You looked down at your fingers nervously. “But you two haven’t even…”
“I haven’t bit her?” The werewolf said bluntly.
“Yeah, and you’ve been together for a lot longer than us.”
“We’re not you and Sungchan. We may have set you guys up, but we’re not you.”
“You set us up? What?” That little off-hand comment had stolen your focus for the moment.
Jeno’s brow furrowed. “Did you never get the full story of how you got sent on that first blind date with him?”
“I mean, Jaemin had shown me a picture of him from your Instagram account, and I knew that you two knew each other through your girlfriend. But no, I guess I never did get the whole story. Jaemin said something about a deal, I think…”
His wide eyes and ‘oh shit’ face said it all. With a wince, he sighed, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you this…”
“What? Jeno, come on,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together in front of you like you were kneeling at an altar.
“Ah, fine, fine.” He gave in easily, regret immediately coming to his features as you perked up, eager to hear the story. “We were all playing soccer one day and her—” he jerked his thumb at the empty space on the couch beside him that the both of you had both been vaguely referring to whenever you mentioned his girlfriend. “—and Sungchan made this bet. You see, something had happened at the park that day. There was another werewolf there, and he called my girlfriend something nasty. And Sungchan was saying that because of stuff like that, he wanted to just stick with dating other werewolves. He also kept saying something about love making my brain rot. It made sense in context. Sort of.”
You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt Jeno for fear that you’d get him off-track and lose your opportunity.
“Anyway, they made a bet that if she was on Sungchan’s team and did her best in the game against me, then Sungchan would let her set him up on one blind date with anybody, werewolf or not. And he wasn’t allowed to intentionally bomb it, he had to actually put in a genuine effort.”
“And I was that date…” You surmised, several pieces falling into place. Specifically, Jaemin and Donghyuck’s initial pitch of Sungchan to you.
“Jaemin suggested you, and we thought the two of you would be a good fit.”
You added humorously, “And I’m not a werewolf.”
“Well, yeah.” Jeno ducked his head sheepishly like he was a puppy that was afraid you were going to notice the shoes that he had chewed up behind him. “But we really did put a lot of thought into it, I swear. And then when we heard he made you walk out in ten minutes, we were actually going to make him go on another one because we thought that he had sabotaged his one with you.”
“Amazingly, no, I think that really was his best effort at the time.” You snickered.
“Now I feel like I have to apologize for subjecting you to him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, he said he didn’t want to go on another date, he had to fix things with you first. She let up on him after that. Apparently believed his mind had been changed.”
“I don’t know how a ten-minute conversation where he practically accused me of being a werewolf fetishist for dating two werewolves, and I asked about his major and told him about my cheating ex could’ve possibly changed his mind but— Hey, look how far we’ve come.”
“And now you know the story of how you two ended up on that ten-minute, awful, terrible blind date that I almost wish we didn’t send you on now that I’ve heard what happened on it.”
“I’ve had worse dates.”
“But like I was saying. We—” he pointed between himself and the empty space proxy of his girlfriend “—are not you two. Just like in human relationships, the big steps happen at different times for everyone, there isn’t one right answer to when a werewolf couple take on each other’s bites. There’s even less of a blueprint for werewolf-human couples. So as far as I’m concerned, you and Sungchan? A half-werewolf and human couple? You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.”
“Unprecedented…” You repeated to yourself, drumming your fingers along your knee.
You and Jeno chatted for a few more minutes about this and that, but you soon decided that you’d have to be going. Sungchan had texted you the full sequence of finishing class, leaving campus, and arriving home while you’d been talking, and there was a pinch at your heart as you could imagine him getting more anxious with each passing minute that you weren’t there. And then there were the smells that you were going to have to deal with once you did return, too.
As Jeno walked you to the front door, your eyes drifted over to the kitchen, an idea popping into your head.
“Hey, Jeno? Can I have a glass of water?”
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“Sung?” You called out into the seemingly empty apartment as you turned to close and lock the front door up. “I’m— oof!”
You were knocked off kilter by 186cm of werewolf, barely catching yourself against the door on your forearms to avoid bonking your forehead into it. Sungchan had his arms wrapped around your waist, already nosing around your hair and neck.
“Hi…” Sungchan said against your cheek, his tone apologetic. He got too excited, he didn’t mean to almost KO you like that.
Slowly, you reached over to finish flicking the deadbolt into the locked position. Then, you blindly stretched a hand back to pat him on the head. “Hey, hey.” You kept your voice calm and soothing.
He was getting down to the collar of the shirt you were wearing—one of his t-shirts, and you could feel him shifting to hold you tighter. He’d definitely noticed something was off.
“You know, I’m really sorry, Sung,” you began, turning your tone mournful and looking down at the wet patch on the front of your shirt. “I know this is your shirt, I feel really bad about this, but I spilled water on myself while I was out. Do you think I can throw this one in your wash here and borrow a new one?”
He immediately perked up at this, “Yeah, of course!”
You smiled. “Thanks.”
Success.
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After your dinner and night out together in downtown, you ended up back in Sungchan’s room, fitted in your new crewneck sweater—this one for a concert he’d gone to last year. You were reclined between his legs against his chest as you half-watched him game, half-scrolled on your phone, and half-snoozed. You’d been playing the game in multi-player mode with him earlier but put your controller aside some time ago when you’d let out a couple loud yawns. Ruminating thoughts of your conversation with Jeno had kept you from fully falling asleep, though.
“Sung?” You waited for a pause on a loading screen to call for his attention.
“Mm?” He hummed back to let you know he was listening, even as the new map loaded in. He hadn’t moved his character yet, fingers frozen as they hovered over the buttons.
“Can we talk for a second?”
“Of course.” Your boyfriend quickly saved and exited the game, setting the controller beside yours on the nightstand.
He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you tighter to him, resting his chin on your shoulder as he waited attentively for you to start with whatever you needed to talk about. You could hear him take a pause to sniff the air around you, and a small, disgruntled sound came from the back of his throat almost immediately.
“Face-to-face?” You requested quietly.
“Right, sorry.”
He loosened his arms, reluctantly letting them fall from around you.
Pushing yourself up off his legs into a full sitting position, you turned around in place, still finding yourself between his thighs. He straightened up a little bit from his spot against the headboard.
You reached out to take his hands in yours. “This is something that really stresses you out, isn’t it? The smells?”
“It’s… I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like…” He took one of his hands back to run his fingers through his hair, and your chest hurt to see the distress on his features. “Imagine being able to constantly see something right in the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head, you can’t actually look at it. You know it’s there, but you can never actually get a proper look. Humans never know it’s there, and werewolves get to look at it head-on. But I don’t get either. It’s terrible.”
“Ah, Sung… That sounds awful, baby.” You grimaced sympathetically, unable to imagine how wound up and panicky he must be all the time. You just wanted to cut this conversation short right now to wrap your arms around him, rub his back and tell him you were never going to leave him again. But for right now, all you could do was squeeze his hand tighter, and hope he got the message.
“I know that sometimes you smell right and sometimes you don’t. But I don’t know why, usually. And it’s not like you smell bad like you need a shower or anything. But like… ah, I can’t describe it.” He groaned, rubbing his face. “I don’t even know what I’m smelling all the time. But it’s just—”
“Not right. I get it, that made sense. And it’s better when I wear your clothes, or spend time with you? Here?”
“I’m sorry…” He said weakly.
“Woah, hey, where in there was I asking for an apology? I’m trying to figure this out together, okay? Not make you feel bad for being unable to turn your nose off. I don’t like that you’re this stressed all the time, you know?”
“In my normal, thinking brain I know you should—and I want you to—be able to wear whatever clothes you want to wear. And I’m glad that you’re spending time with your friends, and I want to go wherever you want to go, whether that’s out somewhere, or to your place. I loved our date night out tonight. It’s not those actual things that bother me at all, it’s just that you smell different.”
“I know, I know.” You reassured him, continuing to hold his hand and gently rubbing his forearm with your free hand. “So maybe there’s something more permanent we can do to help you with the smells?”
Sungchan met your gaze uncertainly. “Permanent?”
“You mentioned it after your last shift. Me taking your bite. I found one other half-werewolf/human couple who did it, online, and they said it helped with the scent anxiety.”
“Y/N…” He breathed your name out.
“I understand if you’re not ready for it. I know it’s a really big step for werewolves. But I had to put it out there, if there’s any possibility that it’ll help.”
“This is not how I imagined this conversation going at all.”
“What?”
“The human reassuring the werewolf that it’s okay if the werewolf isn’t ready for a mating bite yet.” He laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh my god. We really are one-of-a-kind, huh?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle too. “When you put it like that, that is pretty funny. You thought you were going to have to convince me, huh?”
“I wasn’t going to badger you into it if you didn’t want it, that’s for sure. But I mean, I didn’t bring it up again after my last shift because I wanted to do it more… I don’t know, romantically than being a sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess in your lap. I just hadn’t figured out how to do that yet because I’ve been too focused on spending every spare second I can with you.”
“I thought you were a very cute sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess when you asked me last time,” you giggled.
“Right, thanks.”
“So, do you want to do it, then?”
“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”
Jeno’s words came back to you: You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be doing anything any specific way, Sung. We just do it. But if you want to ask me, go for it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. After a few beats of silence, though, you pinched his thigh teasingly, “I’m waiting.”
“What—Right now? Really putting me on the spot.” Sungchan rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Well when else—”
“No, I’ve got it.” He squared his shoulders, face turning serious as he turned his eyes to you. Briefly kissing the back of your fingers first, he began, his voice much shakier than you had expected, “Y/N, I’m ready to give you my mating bite, if you will accept it. But I don’t want it to just be me biting you. I-I want you to do whatever you need to do to make it feel complete to you, too. Since you can’t give me one back. If that’s okay with you?”
Despite you (mostly) knowing what was coming, you still unexpectedly found yourself tearing up as you went to nod your head yes. “Of course, Sung. That’d be perfect, yes. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out, but yes, I love that.”
“I love you.”
You stood up on your knees to wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss before burying your face in his collar. “I love you, too.”
Sungchan hugged you back tightly, pulling you back with him into almost the same position as before, with you against his chest. He pressed kisses to any part of you that he could access, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your ear. You turned your head enough so that the next one he could plant on your lips, a sweet, loving kiss.
“Ah…” He sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, a bright smile on his face.
“What?” You traced over the smile lines at the corner of his eye.
He was almost nose-to-nose with you when his beautiful brown eyes were open again. Looking at you, he admitted freely, “I’m just… so happy.”
“Me too.” You beamed.
“And I can’t believe I almost let myself miss out on this, on you, so many times.”
“Let’s see… the night we actually got together.” You teased, ticking the instances off on your fingers.
“Mm-hm.” A pink flush was starting to creep up Sungchan’s neck.
“Valentine’s Day at the boba shop. Which you owe me emotional damages for, by the way.”
“Yeah. Sorry…” The pink had overtaken his neck and was starting to flush his cheeks.
“Our first date.”
Completely red-faced, he nodded and sighed. “Like I said, I’m just happy that—”
“Oh, and the bet.”
“Huh?” He was entirely frozen, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes.
“I saw Jeno today,” you stated.
“Yes, I did smell him when you came home.”
“I finally got the full story of how you ended up on our blind date, Sung.”
“Listen, I am a proud member of the Love-Rotten Brains Club now.” He tightened his arms around you and nuzzled his nose along your cheek and neck as he spoke, making his lips brush over your skin in ghosts of kisses. “I’m the president and the whole board and the social media intern and whatever else. Never have I ever been more proud of being wrong. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our lives.”
“Ah!” You squirmed and laughed as he was over a ticklish spot. “Alright, you don’t have to do that. But I’m glad they pushed you out of your comfort zone.”
Sungchan let up, allowing you to simply rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“To my credit, I was the one who offered the terms of that bet in the first place.”
“Really? You had to know that they were definitely going to set you up with someone who was not a werewolf, right?”
“I knew. I figured I could make polite small talk for an hour and be done with my end.”
You couldn’t help but laugh loudly, from the gut. “Oh, baby, if polite small talk was your goal, then you failed miserably.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” he said remorsefully.
“Now, I’ve got to know.” You poked his chest pointedly. “Everyone seems convinced that you were like, in love with me and a changed man from that one plane crash of a conversation. Shotaro says that you kept walking around talking about how you wanted to apologize to me for weeks after. Jeno and his girlfriend didn’t set you up on another date despite you not really holding up your end because she was content that you had changed your mind. So?”
Sungchan’s chest rose and fell under you with a deep breath, and he took a pause as if piecing together his thoughts before responding. “Even if we didn’t end up meeting again, I think that date with you was always going to be an important lesson for me, about getting my head out of my ass. I’m just glad I got to take what I learned back to you and apologize and show you that. Like, yeah, our first date was only a few minutes, but I kind of hate to admit that I thought about it for weeks afterwards, because that sounds like weirdo behavior. I mean, literally until the night we saw each other at the boba place. It’s not that it was even romantic at that point, it was more guilt than anything else. I knew I was in the wrong, and I felt awful that I might not be able to tell you that I knew that.”
“I’m glad you found me again at the boba shop. Not a lot of guys would’ve had the guts to actually apologize. Probably would’ve grabbed their drink and ran. Or ran as soon as they saw me and not even ordered.”
“I just wish I had the guts to actually ask you out that night.”
“Me too. But I’m not entirely blameless either. The start of our relationship isn’t a weight that falls solely on your shoulders just because you’re the guy, or the werewolf, or whatever.” You shrugged. “And we figured it out eventually anyway.”
“Yeah, we did.” Sungchan pressed a kiss to your forehead.
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Stopping in front of a familiar red brick townhouse, you ran up the couple short steps to knock on the front door before you could psych yourself out. You and Sungchan had decided to go through with the mating bite after the next full moon in one week, which was a couple days after the end of the summer semester. It gave him time to focus on his finals, and fell in the two-week break between the summer semester ending and the fall semester starting. This was going to be your last year as undergraduates, both you and Sungchan were graduating in the spring. You could hardly believe that you only had two more semesters left of your bachelor’s degree. And then you had grad school.
But right now, you had this: The front door being opened to reveal Mr. Jung to you, a smile immediately crossing his face as he recognized you. Even behind the glasses perched on his nose, you could easily see Sungchan in his features.
“Hi, Mr. Jung,” you greeted him politely.
“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He tucked the pen that was in his hand behind his ear. “Here to see Jieun?”
“Uh, no. Sorry to just drop in, but I wanted to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have time for some tea?”
He backed up, waving you in. “Sure, of course. Come on in.”
“Thank you.” You walked in with a grateful head dip, taking your denim Jasmine & Pearls baseball cap off as you passed over the threshold of the front door.
“Sungchan’s got a hat just like that,” Mr. Jung commented, leading you further into the home. “Or is that one his?”
“Oh, we actually won them in a game at the boba shop that Shotaro works at. We each have our own.” You looked over the purple embroidered logo fondly. “It’s kind of how we met. The second time.”
“Right, the boba tea place that Shotaro works at…” He echoed, recognition in his tone.
You followed Mr. Jung upstairs, which you didn’t get to see the last time you’d been over for dinner. He led you into a room with wallpaper depicting cartoon spaceships, planets, moons, and stars. The ceiling was covered in glow in the dark stars, and even the curtains were embroidered with star maps. The furniture itself was set up to be an adult’s home office, though, despite the shell having clearly been a child’s bedroom. There were still some shelves on the wall with trophies from science fairs and sports teams.
“Sorry, Jieun doesn’t drink tea, and the electric kettle in the kitchen is busted.” Mr. Jung half-explained why he’d brought you in here, another electric kettle in his hand. “Give me a second, I need to fill this up.”
“Of course,” you nodded, not entirely paying attention to what he was saying. Truly, you were still looking around at what was obviously Sungchan’s childhood bedroom.
Any kids’ furniture was gone and replaced with a desk, laptop, two chairs, and a printer. But you didn’t mind, as you leaned in to read the little engravings on his science fair trophies, and from his soccer teams, and baseball teams, and spelling bees, and mathletes competitions—god, you were dating a mathlete? He’d failed to mention that. There was a picture that looked like it was from a field trip from primary school, of his whole class in front of a space shuttle at the closest space and natural history museum. You squinted your eyes as you studied the picture, trying to figure out which one was your boyfriend.
“Sungchan’s the really tall one that you probably thought was a teacher’s helper,” Mr. Jung said humorously, announcing his return.
You turned around, the picture still in your hand, and your eyes immediately landed on the child he was referring to. Gangly, awkward, nearly a head taller than the rest of the kids, but still smiling so brightly—his crooked smile gap-toothed at that moment in time—because he was just so, so excited to be there.
“Ah, yep. There he is,” you smiled fondly, setting the picture back down.
“He gets his height from Jieun’s father. In case you were curious.”
Mr. Jung set the kettle back on its stand on the desk and started heating it up. He cleared a huge stack of papers off a second chair that was next to the desk, then gestured for you to sit. You did so, watching him take down a couple mugs from the shelves over his desk, and pull open the top drawer to root around in it.
“Jasmine?” He asked.
“That sounds lovely, thank you.”
He took out one tin, right as the kettle made a small ding to let him know the water was ready. Mr. Jung poured the water into both mugs first, then took out a couple small, empty pouches. He measured out the loose jasmine tea into each before sealing them and dropping them in the water.
“I figured you would’ve wanted to talk to Jieun about the bite,” he said as he handed you your cup. “Also, let me know if you want some honey for that.”
“I’m good on the honey, thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “So he told you already.”
The other human eased himself down into the office chair in front of you. “Yes, Sungchan’s been keeping us appraised. He was nervous to tell us at first, since you two haven’t been together very long.”
“Well, yes—”
“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s a decision for you and Sungchan to make, not his parents.”
That put you at ease again. “Thank you.”
“And it did make Jieun laugh when she heard that you were the one who did the mating bite talk with him. She likes you a lot. We both do.”
“Oh, thanks…”
“So why did you want to see me? I’m always happy to have some tea with you, but it sounded like you came with a purpose.”
“I wanted to ask about what it’s like? Taking a werewolf’s mating bite as a human?” You plunged into the conversation head-first. “The only other werewolf/human couple we know hasn’t done it, so I don’t really have a point of reference. Like, in class, I’ve learned about the sociocultural importance of it within werewolf packs for mated werewolf couples, but… Sung and I are a bit different, you know?”
Mr. Jung nodded thoughtfully. “I can tell you what my personal experience is, sure. It may be different for you since Sungchan is half-werewolf.”
“Right, of course.” You sat forward, interested. Blowing over your tea, you took your first sip, the lightness of the jasmine dancing across your tongue.
“The biting itself hurts at first. If we were werewolves, my understanding is that it’s nearly painless since their bodies are prepared for it. Humans, not so much.” He rubbed at his mark absentmindedly. “So it will hurt, which I’m sure my son will feel awful about. The shoulder will be a little sore for maybe half an hour or so after, but he won’t even draw blood. And it heals very fast, too. Then you’ll be left with the mark. Werewolves who receive bites have something happen biologically in them with pheromones or something. Again, we don’t have that going on. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be meaningful for you at all. That meaning will just manifest differently, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jung. That was really informative.” You took another drink of your tea.
“Of course. And you know that it’s not a one and done, right?” He warned.
You let out a half-chuckle. “I do know that, yes.”
“Again, I don’t know how much it’ll vary since Sungchan is half-human, but the bite will need to be refreshed more often than if you were both werewolves. My guess would be even more frequently than if he were a full werewolf, but that’s just purely speculation.”
“That would make sense. Thanks for the heads up.” You said, watching the metal of his wedding band glint as he lifted his mug to his mouth. “Can I ask… when did you take your wife’s bite?”
Mr. Jung sighed, a bittersweet sort of smile coming to his face. “It was before we were married. We’d been dating for some time at that point, a couple years. When we first got together, there were some… vocally unhappy members of her pack, but they did quiet down after a while. However, I think they hadn’t expected us to last so long, or that Jieun was just going through a phase or something. After a while they started pressuring Jieun to break up with me and date within her pack— or at least another werewolf. We’d discussed the bite once or twice before, and she thought that if I took it on, it would make everyone leave us alone; that we’d look like any other mated pair of werewolves. It ended up doing the opposite. It was way too far in the eyes of Jieun’s pack. I already knew at that point that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, so from there we eloped, settled down here, eventually had Sungchan a few years later.”
“And you all… have you spoken to her pack again since?”
“No. Unfortunately Sungchan has never been able to meet his family on that side. I suggested it to Jieun when she was pregnant, but she looked me in the eye and asked me if her pack reacted that way just to us being together, then could I imagine what sort of awful things they might think of our child? And would I want to put our baby through that just for some romanticized idea of family? I never brought it up again.”
“What about your family?”
There was no more bitterness in his smile anymore, just pure love and fondness. “They’ve been incredible. Never looked at Jieun or Sungchan as anything other than family. I know Sungchan would probably rather have the pack but—”
“What do you mean?” You couldn’t help but blurt out, furrowing your brow in confusion.
“I know he doesn’t tell people he’s half-human. And really, it’s alright. I get it, being a human isn’t anything to brag about.” Mr. Jung sounded like he really had come to terms with that, that his son would rather not tell people about his dad, about where he came from. Which wasn’t even true.
“That’s not why he tells people he’s only a werewolf. He’s not ashamed of you, or of what he is, on either side. He loves you, a lot. He does that because if he tells people that he’s half-human half-werewolf up front, they take it as a free pass to ask him weird questions.”
The man’s face relaxed, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “I never realized that. Thank you, Y/N.”
“And I mean, you didn’t need me to tell you that. Just look around you. It’s not like he’s exactly got wallpaper of spreadsheets and supply/demand graphs in here, right?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at that. “You’re right. It’s… comforting, though, to have outside confirmation.”
“I know, I get it.”
Mr. Jung gazed past you, out the window behind your head wistfully, taking another sip of his tea. “Growing up how he did… we—Jieun and I—were worried about him for a while, you know.”
“Worried how?”
“Well, that he’d spend so much time trying to protect himself from what our life was like, that he wouldn’t actually be looking for what he wanted.” Mr. Jung’s eyes focused back on yours then, and he smiled at you. “But as soon as he brought you home, we knew we could rest easy.”
“Because I’m human?”
“No, no,” he shook his head, lifting his mug to take another relaxed sip of his tea. “We would’ve loved you if you were human, werewolf, fairy, dragon, anything.”
“I’m sorry but… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“When he was in high school… he and his mom used to get into fights. Teenager hormones, half-werewolf teenager hormones… it was a lot. I know the fact that he was the only half-werewolf at his school, and the only werewolf not in a pack, too, didn’t help either. A lot of it was Sungchan not understanding his mother’s choices, either about leaving her pack, or dating a human in the first place, or not going back to the pack, or whatever else he decided she’d done wrong that day. He’d pretty much always declare that he’d make the ‘better choice.’” Mr. Jung put air-quotes around the last two words. “You know, have a werewolf partner so that his family wouldn’t get harassed, join his future partner’s pack, things like that. Sungchan mellowed out a bit more after he started college, and they started properly getting along again once he moved out last year.”
That mostly lined up with what Jeno had told you about his conversation with Sungchan at the park, his previous policy to only date other werewolves. You frowned thoughtfully, taking a long, slow drink of tea.
“Seeing how Sungchan is with you… he’s not hiding from anything,” he finished fondly.
“I’m sorry I was so dismissive before, Mr. Jung,” you finally said, your voice quiet and contemplative. “When you were talking about Sungchan not telling people he’s half-human. I jumped in completely forgetting that you’ve known him for his whole life… and there could’ve been a lot more reasons why you would’ve thought he was ashamed to be human.”
“Hey, Y/N.” Mr. Jung put his tea down on the desk, perching on the front of his seat to gently place a hand on your forearm. “It’s okay, really. For one, I know you meant well. And two, we know Sungchan very differently. Obviously, yes, I’ve known him his whole life, but you were lucky enough to meet him now, when he has some stuff already kind of figured out. And I’m very glad you did. Because trust me, you should not have met Sungchan in high school. I love my son, I’ve always loved him, but I definitely do not think that if you two had met in high school, you and I would be sharing a cup of tea right now.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, thinking not only of the high school version of Sungchan that had just been recollected to you by Mr. Jung, but also of yourself in high school, who honestly wasn’t any more put together. “Yeah… I don’t talk to any of my high school boyfriends anymore. Saw one of their moms at the grocery store last week actually, and she still recognized me, gave me a nasty look, and blocked the aisle with her shopping cart so I couldn’t get by her. I dated her son almost five years ago now, I think?”
The other human laughed, giving your arm a couple pats before taking his hand away and reclining back in his desk chair again. “Not to mention, if we both had known him his entire life, then I wouldn’t get to tell you any of the fun stories about him as a kid. Has he told you he was a mathlete?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Team captain junior and senior year. They were semi-finalists both years he was captain and even won the State series his senior year.”
“Did he have like a little dweebus uniform or something?”
“Polo shirt, khaki cargo shorts, the whole nine.”
“Please tell me you have pictures.”
“Oh yeah, him and Shotaro.”
“Taro too?!”
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[you: attached image]
[you: attached image]
[taro: HOW DID YOU GET THOSE?????????]
[taro: WHAT THE HELL I MADE SUNGCHAN PROMISE ME THOSE WOULD NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN]
[you: did you make Mr. Jung promise you though?]
[taro: does sungchan know that you’re getting blackmail material from your new bestie, HIS DAD??]
[you: what do you mean blackmail material?? personally, i think you look SO cute in those pictures in your little mathletes uniform]
[you: i didn’t even know sirens could need glasses and braces]
[you: wait does this mean you wear contacts??? i feel like it’s illegal to know this]
[taro: it is, now i have to kill you]
[you: ooooohh, wait till i tell sung]
[taro: not if i drown you first]
[you: you can’t kill me, i know where Mr. Jung keeps the mathletes photos]
[taro: damn it]
[you: and the ones from your first school dance]
[taro: DOES THIS MAN JUST HAVE A SHOEBOX LABELED “OSAKI SHOTARO BLACKMAIL MATERIAL” OR SOMETHING WHAT THE FUCK]
[you: no it’s labeled “jung sungchan blackmail material” actually but you just happen to be in a lot of the pictures too]
[taro: wait for real?]
[you: no, dumbass, he’s sungchan’s dad, of course he’s going to have a lot of old photos of his son and by extension, his son’s friends]
[taro: don’t get a guy’s hopes up like that, damn]
[taro: alright come on, let me see the bad pics you got of sungchan now]
[you: noooo, they’re not bad, they’re actually really cute 🥹🥹]
[you: attached images(+5)]
[you: like just LOOK at my little guy 🥹 he was so little and cute]
[taro: the FUCK are you talking about]
[taro: he’s clearly like 20cm taller than me and everyone else INCLUDING THE TEACHER SPONSOR]
[you: yeah, and he’s JUST a little guy, so little and cute]
[you: i wouldn’t expect you to get it, taro…………sigh]
[taro: attached image]
[taro: THIS IS YOUR MANS????]
[you: WELL WHEN YOU ZOOM IN ON ANYBODY’S FACE LIKE THAT OF COURSE IT’LL LOOK A BIT OFF]
[taro: the favoritism is so real right now]
[you: i’m so tired of your dramatic ass like what fucking “favoritism” 😭😭 of course i like sung better he’s my boyfriend]
[taro: and??]
[you: you’re not??? the fuck you mean “and??”]
[taro: and i think a good friend should be fair and impartial]
[you: i came here to name and shame you to your face, not to be fair and impartial i don’t know how you could’ve been under any other impression]
[taro: i’m so telling sungchan about this]
[you: don’t forget to leave in the part where i called him cute and you intentionally manipulated a picture of him to make him look worse]
[taro: i regret ever setting you two up]
[you: actually jeno and them did it first]
[taro: and i should’ve left you two crashed and burned and SINGLE where i found you]
[you: love you taro 🫶]
[taro: nice try demon that lives in my apartment and doesn’t pay rent 🫶🫶🫶]
[you: SUNGCHAN DOESN’T LET ME WHEN I TRY TO CHIP IN FOR HOW MUCH I’M OVER THERE I SWEAR]
[taro: i figured, which is why i don’t let him pay more than his half either]
[you: then why are you being mean to me about it 🥺]
[taro: do you feel bad enough that you’ll delete those mathlete photos off your phone now?]
[you: nice try demon that i’m never paying rent to 🫶🫶🫶]
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Pushing open the door to the next shop on this street, you were pleasantly surprised by the calm, quaint atmosphere that you were greeted by. The bright red and gold pillars outside of the toy and watch shop had suggested otherwise, but inside of it were a few display cases filled with watches and other pieces of jewelry, while the other half of the shop had shelves upon shelves of toys. Every item in the store seemed handmade, and even to your untrained eye, you could tell that several had magical properties. A girl about your age was behind one of the watch and jewelry counters towards the front of the store, which also had the register on it. She was fiddling with an open watch, and you watched as she readjusted the light of the lamp above her with just a flick of her wrist—not touching a single button or switch on the device. All the jewelry and other accessories she was wearing already made you think she might’ve been a witch, but that just locked it in for you.
Some music played throughout the store, though you couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from, as there were no visible speakers on the ceiling or elsewhere. Briefly dragging your eyes over the display cases as you strolled up towards the employee, you spotted quite a few watches, of course, as well as necklaces, rings, earrings, and small trinkets. But nothing that quite stuck out to you as what you were looking for.
The witch perked up as you came to a stop in front of her, setting her tiny tools down on the small rag alongside the watch pieces. “Hi! Welcome in. Is there something I can help you with?”
“This is a magical kind of shop, right?” You asked curiously. Apothecaries usually stuck out as such, but having a witch and a couple things that glowed didn’t guarantee anything.
“Yep! This place is ran by my coven!” She told you proudly. “We make everything in here by hand in the back, fine tune the mechanics and the magic ourselves. Are you looking for any particular kind of magic thing?”
“Yes, well, sort of…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I’m kind of gift shopping right now.”
“What’s the occasion?”
After a split-second internal debate, you figured this witch had probably dealt with weirder, and you would definitely need her insight and experience when it came to the magical properties of all of the options in front of you.
“My boyfriend is giving me his mating bite in a few days, but I don’t want to show up empty-handed, you know?” You scratched at the back of your neck. “Like, it’s not an engagement-level thing for us, but it’s still big, and I want to be able to give him something too…”
She didn’t seem thrown off in the slightest, instead seeming to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin, before her features lit up, and she slid over to the other end of the display case. You followed her down.
“Now, I’m guessing you already know about moonstone—” She explained, pulling out a small display of rings. “Helps their shifts.”
You nodded as you looked over the many rings inlaid with opalescent stones like the one on Jeno’s necklace. “Yeah. And, I mean, his aren’t that bad. Just sort of… disorienting and confusing. Though I hate how sickly he gets the day or so after.”
The witch gave you an intrigued look. “He’s… half-werewolf?”
Darting your eyes back up to her, you wondered which part of what you just said had given it away. The less intense shift? The ‘sickly’ bit?
“And half-human?” She took your silence as an apparent cue to finish her guess.
You slowly nodded.
Immediately, the rings were whisked away from under your nose. She was practically alight with excitement as she flitted over to a completely different display case, grabbing just one singular piece from there and bringing it back over to you. It was another ring, a thick silver band of one width, with no obvious gem settings or other such features.
“So, you wouldn’t really be worried about the shift itself, then. Or, at least not the pain part, which is really what the moonstone helps werewolves with. Easing the transition into and during the shift.” The employee rambled enthusiastically. “The symptoms that he really has a problem with are about getting back into balance after. Since he’s half-human, his body has to work a lot harder to return to homeostasis after an ordeal like a werewolf shift.”
“He’s said something about that before. Homeostasis.”
“Then what you really want is something like this—” She offered the ring out for you to take, depositing it onto your palm. You curiously looked it over closer. “Instead of moonstone, like most things designed for werewolves, this has concentrated moonflower essence in the chamber that makes up most of the band.”
You tilted the ring and could in fact see a small amount of mostly clear, but shimmery iridescent cobalt blue liquid shift around in the light. The container that held the liquid must have been incredibly thin to fit along the ring whilst adding negligible bulk.
Moonflower was of course familiar to you from Magical Botany Club. While the plant itself wasn’t magical, it had a slew of magical applications, and could be distilled down to a magical essence. Much like moonstone, which also wasn’t in and of itself magical, it had an effect on magical beings that were also tied to the moon, most notably, werewolves. Moonflower paste was a common ingredient in traditional werewolf medicine, and even in modern pharmaceuticals, many medications with different formulations for werewolves—or formulated to treat diseases that only werewolves got—often had ingredients derived from the moonflower. In addition to healing properties, the smell tended to have a calming effect on them as well, both in and out of their shifts (unlike moonstone, which exclusively aided their shifts).
You had a moonflower plant in your own apartment, which had been useless for any werewolf purposes as of late with Sungchan never coming over, but hopefully it wouldn’t be that way for long. It had been slightly altered so that it would be suited to growing indoors; moonflower was typically a vine, which was difficult to keep in a one-bedroom apartment with limited balcony space, so after a little bit of help from Jaemin, your moonflower grew as a cute little potted bush instead.
But there was still one more feature on the ring that hadn’t been explained to you. A single, silver, almost-circle on one side of the outside of the ring, entirely flush with the top of the container that held the moonflower essence. The outline of the rest of the circle was there, but it wasn’t quite filled in all the way, a small crescent of darkness keeping the silver from being whole.
“And this?” You gestured to the symbol.
“Tracks the lunar cycle. Waxing gibbous, we’re just a couple days away from the full moon. He probably instinctually knows what phase of the moon it is, but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra reminder.”
Turning the ring over in your hand again, you found yourself nodding and smiling. “Yeah. This is perfect.”
“And you said it’s happening in a few days? So after the full moon, right?”
“Oh, uhm, yes.”
“We could totally make another by then, if you wanted a matching set,” she offered.
“Really? So quick?”
“A lot of the initial process is the R&D,” the witch explained with a laugh. “But we already know how to make this one, it’ll be easy. Promise.”
You thought this over for a moment. After telling so many people that it wasn’t marriage or engagement, getting matching rings… But the whole point of exchanging mating bites in the first place was to match. Well, almost, since no two werewolves would have the same bite. To coordinate. To give each other your own version of the same thing. Your own version of the same thing.
“Do you think you could make it without the chamber with the moonflower essence, actually?” You asked. “Like, still with the lunar tracker. Just the main band and the little part that tracks the lunar cycle.”
She lit up. “Absolutely! Should be even quicker, actually. Probably have that done by the end of business tomorrow, morning after tomorrow at the latest.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah! Say the word and I’ll start as soon as you leave.”
“Yes, please!”
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Sungchan hadn’t let go of you once since you arrived at his apartment the evening that you were to be receiving his bite. Either with an arm around your waist, pressed up against your back, or holding your hand. Shotaro had already vacated the premises by the time you’d gotten there, a half-excuse of him staying at Jisung and Chenle’s place tonight being given by the werewolf when you asked.
The two of you ate dinner first. He wanted to feed you, making sure you had eaten and were hydrated before. You were finally taking your class on werewolves this looming fall semester, and had already bought and read ahead in the textbook for it. Specifically, you’d lost count of the amount of times that you’d read and re-read the sections on mating bites, mating bite rituals, and anything else that you could imagine would be relevant to your current predicament.
For mated werewolf couples in packs who were going through the actual ritual, the first step was to usually share a meal consisting of raw meat—fresh kill. Neither you nor Sungchan could or would actually eat that, so you just had a hearty serving of your favorite takeout orders.
Sungchan didn’t even let you sit in your own chair, having insistently pulled you into his lap right at their kitchen table, lifting bite after bite of food to your mouth, always sure to follow it up with your slowly draining glass of water. You were mindful of him, too, making sure he didn’t ignore his half-werewolf appetite in his concern over you.
“‘M full, Sung…” You murmured, gently covering his hand with yours to maneuver the food towards his mouth instead.
He frowned thoughtfully, not parting his lips even as you bumped the spoon against them, looking like a very serious toddler who wasn’t enjoying the game of airplane being played at the moment. “You sure?”
“Yeah, promise.” You nodded with a smile. “It was delicious, and I’m all done. You took good care of me, Sung. Can you let me finish taking care of you, now?”
Your boyfriend’s features softened at that, and he parted his mouth, letting you feed him the spoonful. He happily chewed and swallowed, looking especially blissed out as you gently scratched his scalp with your free hand. In between continuing to feed Sungchan, you finished off your water, and made sure he drank his as well.
Finally, he too declared that he was done eating. Curled up in your boyfriend’s embrace, with a full belly and a full heart, you could’ve almost thought that this was any normal night; nearly forgotten what was going to come next. Nearly.
Sungchan took you to his room next, which wasn’t really necessary, since you had the whole apartment to yourselves. He held you to him with an arm around your waist as he shut the door behind you two. You raised an eyebrow when you heard the door lock.
He buried his face in your neck, wrapping both arms around you now as he half-growled, “Smells like Shotaro out there…”
“Locking the door to keep the smells out…” You hummed in amusement, leaning your head on his shoulder and resting your weight back against him. You decided not to outright point out the flaw in logic there, nor the fact that the two of you could’ve also done this at your place, where there was no smells of Shotaro or anybody else, just you. But of course, you figured it needed to be here because it smelled like Sungchan. It had been so long since Sungchan had been to your home that you were doubtful even a full werewolf would be able to catch a trace of him.
He lifted his head and breathed in like he was about to say something, but you just pulled his arms tighter around you and reassured him, “It’s perfect, Sung. Our own little space. Just you and me.”
Dropping his cheek back down to your shoulder, Sungchan let out a long but shaky breath. Putting your hands over his, your slotted your fingers with your boyfriend’s.
“Sung? Baby? Everything okay?” You asked.
“I just can’t believe we’re doing this…”
“Hey, if you’re not ready for this, we can stop. If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay.”
“No, I want to,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. He coughed, his voice softening again but sounding a little strained as he continued, “Really. I mean… I can’t believe I’m doing this with you. I seriously thought I’d royally fucked things up forever. Multiple times.”
“Well, you didn’t,” you told him strongly. “Now, can I go first?”
“You… go first?” He repeated, confusion coloring his voice so clearly. Apparently, he’d forgotten that you’d be doing more than just getting bitten tonight.
“Aw, I would love to, thanks, Sung,” you tittered jokingly, patting his cheek. “Close your eyes, please?”
He chuckled, and a beat later, announced, “Okay, they’re closed.”
You craned your neck just the slightest to be able to peer at him out of the corner of your vision, seeing that he was in fact squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Reaching into your pocket, you retrieved the small pouch that you’d picked up from the coven’s shop this morning. You shook out the two rings inside into your palm, and put yours on your left middle finger first, a simple silver band with the lunar indicator welded into it. It looked almost like a full moon, but you could see just the faintest strip of black showing that it was actually beginning to wane. Next, you gently put the other on Sungchan’s right ring finger, his with a faint shimmer of the moonflower essence.
Holding the side of his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek, you declared, “Done. You can open your eyes.”
He did so, immediately holding up his hand to inspect what you’d done to it. As he looked over the new jewelry, you explained, “It has moonflower essence, all around the band. And the moon design on it will actually change with the phases of the real moon.”
“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful,” he picked up your left hand, bringing it up towards his face that was still hooked over your shoulder—presumably to kiss the back of it—but stopped short as he seemed to have noticed your new accessory as well. His fingers turned your silver band until he could get a good look at the lunar tracker that matched his.
“I got one too,” you added, skin turning warmer and starting to prickle the longer he went without saying anything. “It’s a lot prettier than those phone apps that track the lunar cycle, right?”
Then Sungchan was turning you around by the hips. He grabbed your face with two hands to kiss you, and you got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. You could feel the cool band of his new ring pressing against your cheek, warming up with every passing second from yours and Sungchan’s bodies.
Breaking the kiss, he reached behind his neck for your left hand with his right, bringing them both down to rest over his chest. He pressed your palm against him firmly, and you could feel his heart beating under your touch.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said quietly, earnestly, his voice cracking over your name. “So much… that it doesn’t feel real sometimes.”
“What do you mean, Sung?”
“Like, one person shouldn’t be able to have this much love in their body. Or at least, I shouldn’t.”
“What?” You let out a breathy chuckle. “That’s what so beautiful about love, there can only be more of it, it’s infinite. Of course you’re capable of so much love. How could you think anything else?”
“I used to never understand how my mom could choose to fall in love with a human. To doom her family—me—to our life. No safety or identity that comes with a pack. Even after I realized I had fallen for you, I-I was afraid I was so… messed up from thinking like that my whole life that I wasn’t going to be able to love you like you deserved. Like something might’ve been broken in me.”
“Sung…” You touched under his eye with your free hand, where a tear had fallen. “You’re not broken. You’ve never done anything but love me with your whole heart, I know that. You’ve been so good to me, always.”
“I know,” he nodded zealously, accompanied by a sniffle. “I know now, that I’m not broken. That I can have all this overflowing love in me, and it’s so awesome, but also kind of terrifying?”
You chuckled lightly at that. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I love you so much I get a little scared too, because I’ve never loved someone like I love you. And we haven’t even been properly dating for that long, so if I already love you this much, then how much more am I going to love you in six months? A year? Two? Five? Ten?”
He snapped his head up from where he’d been gazing down at your hands, eyes locking on yours. You smiled back at him weakly. The urge to stuff your words back in your mouth was there, but you knew you couldn’t. It was the truth, that you could picture yourself with Sungchan that far ahead in your life. For the rest of it, if you were going to be that honest, but you bit your tongue before you got there.
The two of you had unintentionally moved onto the next part of the werewolf mating ritual: moonlit confessionals. The light of the nearly full moon shone down on the two of you in front of one of his bedroom windows. Your textbook hadn’t been terribly explicit on the exact content of the words exchanged at this point, just that it was an opportunity for the couple to truly bare their souls to each other, make sure there was nothing hidden that would make the other not want to go through with the rest of the ritual.
“After my last relationship… ended like it did, I thought I might be a little broken, too,” you pushed on with your confession. “I was afraid that in my next relationship, I’d just see cheating everywhere. I was honestly a little relieved when our first date blew up, because I thought that if I dated someone again, I’d treat them like a criminal. But never once has it ever crossed my mind with you, never once have I ever doubted you, have I ever felt anything less than absolutely loved and adored.”
“I do, absolutely love and adore you,” he replied. “And I’m so glad you brought up the future, because I think about it, too. Like, all the time. When I imagine my life after college, or what my life is going to be like in five or ten years… I don’t know much, but I always imagine that you’re there. Like, I don’t know what I want to be, other than happy, with you.”
You couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing him by the neck to yank his mouth down to yours. Pulling him with you towards the bed, you stopped when you felt your legs back up against it.
“Do it, Sung. Bite me,” you murmured against his lips.
He let out a low, throaty groan at your words, tipping his head back as he took a couple deep breaths. You pressed a few more open-mouth kisses to his Adam’s apple and collarbones. Sungchan made another sound that was between a sigh and a grunt.
“We should be sitting down for this,” he stated, though he made no move to follow through on his words.
You removed your lips from his skin to happily plop down into the center of his mattress. The front of you was a bit cold since you were no longer pressed up against him, though you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be for very long.
Sungchan sat down facing you, scooping you up into his arms. You easily settled into his lap, your legs finding familiar places on either side of his hips. Fondly brushing some hair off his forehead, you would’ve been rather content to just stare down at your Sung bathed in moonlight for the next several minutes, so handsome and all yours. But you had something you needed to do tonight.
Grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing—Sungchan’s, of course—you shucked it over your head and off onto the floor. That left you just in a tank top with nearly negligible straps. You could see your boyfriend’s eyes zero in on the bare expanse of skin from your shoulder to your neck that you’d just exposed, where his bite was supposed to go.
“I had my turn,” you said, slipping the thin strap off of the shoulder he was staring at, and tilting your head to open up as much space as possible, make it as clear of an invitation as possible. “Now it’s yours. Go on, baby. I trust you.”
Sungchan didn’t say anything more, but he did grab both of your hands by the wrist—his grip surprisingly gentle—to wrap your arms around his waist. You splayed your hands out over his lower back under his shirt, indulging yourself in his warmth, and smoothing a thumb over his skin. He then wrapped his around you to hold you even closer, if that was possible, and you watched him open his mouth, his white teeth catching the pale moonlight, glinting, and looking much sharper than normal— reminding you of how they looked during his shifts.
Then those teeth were biting you, sinking into your muscle.
Renjun had described what being bitten by a vampire was like to you, once. He had a bucket list for that sort of thing—magical encounters. He said it was a small pinch, barely more than the pressure of a needle, then it was all pleasure from thereafter. Vampire venom, of course, was meant to do that so that those they were biting felt so good so they wouldn’t resist while the vampire drank as much as they pleased from them.
Werewolves were predators in an entirely different sense, with the teeth to match. Theirs were meant to grab prey, hold them in their jaws no matter how much they struggled, and rip flesh from bone. As much damage as possible in one go, so that if said prey happened to escape, they wouldn’t be able to get very far with their injuries.
It was visceral pain, the moment Sungchan bit you. You couldn’t hear the noise that you made—only aware that you made one as you felt the gurgle of something in the back of your throat—through the white noise that exploded behind your eyes the instant his teeth hit bone. You were glad he’d directed you to put your arms around him just moments earlier, as your nails were now firmly embedded in the skin of his lower back—you were sure those would’ve been drawing your own blood in your palms if they hadn’t been there.
A memory suddenly flashed in your mind. You were seven, in your backyard with your dad, watching two squirrels chase each other across the grass. Then your neighbor’s dog came out of nowhere—maybe slipped his collar—and got one in his mouth. Your dad couldn’t get his hand over your eyes quick enough. You didn’t want to pet Mr. Lee’s dog when you saw him a couple days later, despite how well he sat, the adorable way his tongue lolled out from between his razor-sharp canines, and how fast his tail wagged.
The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?
You trusted him, of course, or you wouldn’t have asked him to do this. Not let him; but suggested, encouraged, requested, told him to. Your fingernails dug into his back even harder at the idea, as much to anchor yourself and provide an outlet as to hold him to you as well. Surely you had to be breaking skin at this point.
You had the urge to bite down on something too. It was a need that came from deep in your jaw. Like when people were given something to bite on for painful procedures in old medical dramas. Or maybe reciprocity.
This go around, you kept your teeth to yourself, though, sinking them into your bottom lip. That pain didn’t even register past the supernova radiating out from your shoulder.
Sungchan finally pulled his teeth out from your flesh, and the rest of your senses snapped back into focus. Your eyes fluttered open—when did you close them?—back to Sungchan’s bedroom, your fingers slowly unfurled from where they’d dug into his back, and you could hear him talking to you as he gently inspected the bite wound.
You brought your hands back around in front of you. Your eyes widened minutely as you realized that there was bright red under a couple of your fingernails. And it wasn’t yours. The beds of your nails were perfectly intact, meaning that you really had broken his skin.
“Oh God, Y/N, the blood. I’m so sorry.” Sungchan muttered under his breath, reaching for something on his nightstand.
For half a second, you thought he meant his, and you were about to apologize as you were still staring down at your hands mostly in awe. But then you actually saw his face for the first time as he turned back around, clutching a damp hand towel.
There was a red tint to his lips, and you realized that wasyour blood. Electricity jolted up your spine before the thought had even fully formed.
…he won’t even draw blood. So much for that, Mr. Jung.
His tongue darted out to instinctively investigate the wetness on his mouth, and a sudden thrill shuddered through you as you watched. You decided not to ask how it tasted to him, despite the question certainly popping into your mind.
You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone instead, so far back it was nearly in his hairline. “I’m okay, Sung. I’m okay.”
Without a word, he started gently cleaning up the bite wound, and you had half a mind to ask for another towel for his back, though you knew that would be futile until he got you situated. So, you sat patiently, keeping your head craned to the side to give him plenty of room, and watched his intent face as he worked.
“Sung?”
He sighed, a sound that let you know he was already beginning his mental descent through the seven circles of werewolf hell. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’m so—”
“Can I bite you next time?” You asked simply.
The towel stilled over your bite.
“You… next time… bite… me?” His eyes glassed over as his mouth stumbled to even form around the individual words.
“I know I won’t leave a mark like you but… so I can have something to do?” You used the hand of your unbitten shoulder to trace a line from his ear down his jugular, under his collar, to his shoulder, then back to his collarbone. You took your hand back as you went to joke, “Unless you’re expecting extravagant and meaningful gifts every time?”
“No, no. I mean yes! I mean—” Sungchan took a second to shake his head and blink, clearing his mind. “I don’t expect gifts every time. And yes, you can bite me next time. I didn’t think you would be up for a next time after I… well, after all this.”
He gestured vaguely to the wound that he’d gone back to tending to. A quick glance at it out of the corner of your eye showed you that it had already stopped bleeding and was starting to mend itself. At least Mr. Jung was right about that part.
Even through the acute worry over the unexpected severity of the bite, you could tell that Sungchan was already more clear-headed and overall relaxed, the constant nervous tension in his body gone, replaced just by a determined set of his shoulders, and momentary furrow of his brow as he cleaned up the bite. Brushing his hair off his forehead, you trailed your hand down to cup his cheek fondly. “Sungchan, this is the most yourself I’ve seen you in a long time. Yes, I’m going to keep your bite.”
Just the bright, tender smile on Sungchan’s face—the recognition of being loved and reflecting it back to you—would’ve been more than enough for you to do this again, whether or not it helped the scent anxiety. You could always work on another solution for that. But this you wouldn’t take away for the world.
He set the towel aside again, and you grabbed his hands now that they were free, messing with the brand-new ring adorning one of his fingers.
“Besides, even if I can’t leave a mark like yours next time, I can still mark you up,” you mused quietly, almost as if it were to yourself, except for the fact that you had a werewolf practically chest-to-chest with you. And you knew very well that you did. “They just won’t last as long.”
“Why wait until next time?” He suggested, and you heard the long inhale he took after. You wondered if you smelled any different to him already, or if he just needed to breathe.
You looked up from your hands to him with a smirk. “I like the way you think.”
Sungchan captured your lips in a kiss that tasted of hunger, and love, and metal— your blood was still around his mouth. And you smiled into it before doing as promised and dropping your mouth to the column of his throat, well above his collar, and letting your teeth graze his skin. You could feel his gasp rush in under your lips as his hands pulled your hips firmly down against his.
You decided that Jeno could be a ‘puppy’ all he wanted. You had a wolf, and you were more than happy with that.
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“I think I made it out more marked up than you, you know,” Sungchan called out to you from the bathroom the next morning.
“Really?” You replied just as loudly, amusement in your tone as you stretched leisurely in his sheets.
“Shotaro’s going to be concerned for my wellbeing at this rate.”
Sitting up and scooting towards the corner of his bed closest to the mirror, you checked out your own reflection as you imagined he was currently doing, your fingers trailing over the dark bite mark now set into your skin. There was no scab or blood, just the faintest ring of raised skin and distinct outline of teeth. Rolling out your shoulder, you winced as a dull pain radiated out from the bite. Dropping the arm back down, you continued staring at the mark, a certain giddiness fluttering around in your stomach. You’d have this for… who knows how long. The rest of your life, maybe.
Clearing your throat and your mind, you responded to Sungchan with a disbelieving snort, “No he’s not.”
“No, he’s not,” he agreed with a sigh as he walked back into his bedroom just in a pair of sweatpants. Which let you get a great view of the countless blue and purple hickies, love bites, long red scratches, and faded remains of crescent-shaped nail marks that littered his neck, chest, shoulders, and back. You bit down on your bottom lip, a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment welling up in your chest. Sungchan fixed you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hands on his hips. “But my parents will be when we go over for dinner next week.”
“We’re going over for dinner next week?!” You yelped, covering your mouth in horror, panic, and mortification. A lot of the worst of those bruises were well above the collar of all of his shirts. “Why did you let me—”
“I’m kidding,” he cut you off with a chuckle, lumbering over towards the bed to flop down beside you on the mattress.
You smacked his arm as you hissed, “I’m going to kill you, Jung Sungchan! Don’t do that to me!”
“Ouch, full name.” He pouted.
“God, I was about to preemptively die of embarrassment!”
“So it’ll be fine for them to see that,” he pointed to your shoulder, “but not these?” He gestured from his own neck down.
“Different situational and cultural contexts!”
He nodded slowly, “Oh, right, of course...”
“You’re half-human, Sungchan, don’t pull that ‘I’m-just-a-simple-werewolf’ act on me!”
“I upset you. I’m sorry,” he apologized, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.
“You better be, Sungchan.”
“I am, baby, I am.” He gave your hand a half dozen more fervent, rapid-fire smooches. “Now are you done calling me that?”
“What? Your name?” You scoffed.
“You know what I mean, baby...”
“So we don’t have dinner with your parents next week?”
“Nope. Two weeks.”
You shook your head and sighed. “And so you live to see another day, Sung.”
“I’m half-werewolf, I would’ve been all healed up by next week, you know,” he pointed out, sitting up behind you and pressing a couple lingering kisses to your shoulder with your new mating bite.
“I know, I know.”
He continued trailing sweet kisses up your neck and jaw. “Which means I’ll also be all healed in two weeks if you were to give me some more…”
“I don’t know, you just played a very mean trick on me, Sung,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were genuinely deliberating not giving in and absolutely devouring this man right now.
“I know,” he murmured between kisses, gently holding your chin with one hand to turn your head back towards him. “I’m the worst.”
“You are,” you breathed out against his lips.
“So now that we agree on that…”
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“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You jabbed the crosswalk button repeatedly.
“It’s going to be fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’ve already met your parents before and it was fine.”
“Yeah, once, for like two minutes, as my friend.” You pointed out, banging the button with the side of your fist when it still hadn’t changed.
You were of course talking about a random Sunday afternoon way back in the spring semester, before you and Sungchan had started dating. He had come over that day to help you put together your new coffee table that you’d finally gotten around to buying. Except, upon starting the assembling, the two of you had realized that neither of you had one of the tools required for it. Thankfully, your dad did, and offered to bring it by since he and your mom were about to head out to run errands anyway. Cue some very brief, very awkward introductions between your parents and Sungchan when they’d brought the promised tool. You weren’t counting, but you would’ve bet money that you had called him your friend at least ten times during that less-than-five-minute conversation, with so much stress and nervous emphasis on the word that you wouldn’t have been surprised if your parents had left your apartment that day already thinking that the two of you were dating.
But now you were actually supposed to be introducing him to them as your boyfriend, and you felt like you were going to throw up and pass out and die before you even got there.
Sungchan wordlessly let go of your hand to smoothly step between you and the crosswalk button, picking up your other hand to hold.
“Come on, you said it yourself that they were impressed with me after that two-minute conversation,” he reminded you. “Imagine how great of an impression I’ll leave after two hours.”
“All I said was that my dad told me later that he was surprised that you were a werewolf because you were so calm,” you corrected him. “He’s used to all my friends from high school who had the bouncing-off-the-fucking-walls energy like Jeno.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Which, by the way, I’ve already told them that you’re not in a pack or anything like that, but pretty much all they know about werewolves is from my classmates and friends from when I was in high school. So… apologies in advance for any assumptions or comparisons they make.”
“Right, the two packs you went to school with.”
“Yeah, them. I told them you’re not in a pack, and don’t have any of that going on. It actually made my mom relax a lot more. I think all that stuff kind of scares her.”
“What? Afraid that I’d whisk you away with my big werewolf muscles to my werewolf pack and she’d never hear from her poor little human daughter ever again?”
You burst out into an incredulous laugh. “You have got to stop talking about yourself like that or I’m seriously going to hurt your feelings one of these days, baby.”
“By saying what? It’s not like I’m lying?”
“Your ego is as stupid big as your stupid big werewolf muscles.”
“Ha!” He cheered out victoriously. “So you admit it.”
“Wasn’t falling in love supposed to rot your brain? Make you more docile or whatever? I think it’s just made you even worse…” You tutted, shaking your head.
“How could I not be on an ego trip? I mean, have you seen my girlfriend?” He retorted. “She’s crazy beautiful, and smart, and funny, and so sweet. I’d be jealous of me if I wasn’t me.”
You rolled your eyes, but squeezed his hand tighter. “Alright, you sap. Maybe the ego trip is warranted. But seriously, don’t talk about yourself like that in front of my parents or I’ll die of secondhand embarrassment. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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So far lunch was going okay. Your mom had invited the two of you over for a late Sunday lunch, which always meant sandwiches and lemonade in your house. And it was going okay, aside from the initial reaction you’d gotten when they’d opened the front door. You could still hear your mother’s shocked gasp and ‘Oh my God…’ muttered under her breath as her eyes were glued onto your neck. More specifically, you knew she was staring at your new mating bite. Or, the half of it that she could see— you weren’t exactly hiding it, so you’d picked your t-shirt today only for comfort in the lingering end-of-August-cusp-of-September heat. It was just over three weeks since Sungchan had given you his bite, a couple days shy of the upcoming full moon, and yeah maybe you should visit your parents more often. But in your defense, you’d been a bit busy between getting the bite in the first place, and the new semester starting.
Your father didn’t have much better of a reaction than your mother, eyes going wide behind his thick, frameless lenses before his jaw clenched. There was still a certain tension in his muscles that jumped every time he saw Sungchan touch you, whether it was a brush of arms, holding your hand, or an innocent squeeze of your knee as he stood up to head to the bathroom that he’d just been gestured towards.
Picking your glass of lemonade back up after Sungchan had left the room, you took only a sip before your mom was reaching across the table to gently take your hand in hers.
“Hey, sweetie…” She said softly but with a certain worried tenseness in her tone that made your stomach drop.
You tried to mimic the front she was putting up, smiling back at her brightly and innocently, “Hey, Mom?”
“Listen... We are so happy for you, and we love Sungchan, we really do.”
“Okay, then why does it feel like this is about to go somewhere that I’m not going to like?”
“Don’t you think that the two of you might just be moving a little fast?”
Entirely dropping all sunny pretenses, you narrowed your eyes at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“The-the bite,” she explained with a wince, pointing to her own shoulder.
“That’s sort of like marriage for them, right?” Your dad cut in gruffly.
Despite it being phrased like a question, his tone made it sound much more like an accusation, like he already knew he was right and was just letting you know that he knew the truth—or at least what he thought the truth was. It reminded you of when you’d get in trouble as a kid and he’d ask you if you knew how the vase in the living room got broken despite very much already having a good idea himself. Giving you the opportunity to fess up before he punished you even more severely for the initial bad deed and then lying about it on top of that. But you hadn’t done anything wrong this time.
“Sort of, not really, it depends. In some packs, I guess. But Sung’s not in a pack, you know that,” you reminded them firmly, straightening up in your seat.
Your mom jumped back in, “Right, but still, don’t you think he kind of rushed you into—”
“It was my idea,” you cut her off before she could even finish articulating that thought. You knew you’d get all the way pissed off if she did. It was already taking a lot to dampen your anger now and keep this at a civil conversation. It’s just because they didn’t understand. You had to keep telling yourself that, and do your best to explain, calmly, and make them understand. Not everybody had three years of Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies under their belt like you. Your mom had been a stay-at-home mom all your life, and your dad was just a few years away from retirement, having worked in a human-dominated field for his whole career. An architect.
Those same sharp eyes that would pore over building designs late at night in his home office while you sat in his lap and did your own colorful sketches in crayon—and eventually fell asleep in his arms—were now regarding you with a clear distrust. “Darling, really, it—”
“Look, when we first started dating, Sung was having a really hard time with scent anxiety,” you once again spoke over him authoritatively. “All the usual scenting stuff, it wasn’t working. He was really stressed, and anxious, and just… worried sick all the time about me like spontaneously combusting or something if we were apart for even a second. Me taking his bite was the best solution. And now, the beginning of the semester has gone off without a hitch. Classes, my Magical Botany Club, his astronomy club, his senior thesis meetings, my research mentorship project... I don’t know if we would’ve been able to do all of this apart, clear-headed like… literally a month ago. And yes, I brought it up to him. I’m fine, I promise. This is what I want, he’s what I want.”
The two of them exchanged perturbed, skeptical glances, before your mom nodded, and your father let out a resigned sigh.
“Alright, sweetheart. Like we said, we like Sungchan. We just don’t want you two doing anything that you might regret. Either of you.”
“I know, Dad. But we’ve got this. Seriously, it’s… really good with him,” you promised him, a giddy smile coming to your features with your last words.
“We’re happy to hear that, sweetie,” your mom patted your hand.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I don’t want to know anything else about how it happens, but— Does it hurt? Like, right now, does it hurt you?”
“Oh, no, Mom, it’s not painful to the touch or sore or anything,” you reassured her, carefully skirting around the how and instead focusing on the now, pressing on the bite mark to demonstrate that it wasn’t tender like a bruise.
“Good, good, I’m glad.”
The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed down the hall to you, and you turned around to smile at Sungchan over your shoulder as he started back towards you all.
“Well, I think it’s time for the tart I’ve got in the fridge, huh?” Your mom beamed at everyone, standing up from the kitchen table.
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“That could’ve gone worse,” you declared as soon as your parents’ front door shut behind the two of you, leaving you and Sungchan on the sidewalk. There wasn’t much in the way of leftovers aside from the berry tart, which your mom sent you off with so that your father wouldn’t eat it all.
“You think so?” Sungchan asked warily. “Because I uh… I did hear what you all were talking about when I was in the bathroom.”
“Yeah, I thought you might’ve.” You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry about all that, Sung. I think they get it now. And really, it was my fault for not at least giving them a heads-up about the bite, it didn’t even cross my mind. We just caught them off-guard.”
Sungchan suddenly stopped the two of you on the empty sidewalk. He cupped your cheek in his hand, running a thumb over your cheekbone, then down your jaw, the side of your neck, until he stopped right over where you knew the mating bite was. His thumb once again stroked over your skin, tracing the shape of the bite and pushing aside your collar when needed.
“Hearing you say that this is what you want, I’m what you want… made me really happy,” he declared simply, eyes still locked on the mark.
“It’s true,” you replied.
A bright, giddy smile spread across his face. “I know. And I knew it as soon as I heard you say it, too.”
You grinned back up at him. “That makes me really happy to hear, Sung. I always want you to know how much I love you.”
He leaned in nearer, and you closed your eyes anticipating a kiss, but instead he just dropped a fond peck to your nose before standing up straight. “I think it’s starting to finally uh, get through my thick skull.”
“Finally,” you echoed with a giggle. “Alright, your place?”
“I actually wanted to ask… Can we go to your place tonight?”
“Finally going to give poor Taro some peace?”
“That, yeah. But I wasn’t even thinking about him to be honest. I just… I want to.”
“Okay, Sung. Come on.” You tugged him down the street in the direction of your apartment.
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Sungchan had been to your place on several occasions as your friend and your boyfriend, and yet you were drawing a blank for exactly the last time he had been there. Maybe your third date? Or, technically your fourth date, but you and Sungchan had unanimously agreed to not count that first awkward blind date that the guys set you up on as your official first date. Regardless, it’d been… a while since he’d been over. You kicked your shoes off by the door and didn’t bother to turn the lights on as you deposited the leftover tart in the fridge before beginning your nightly plant-tending. There were a few that needed to be misted still, then you could fully relax. You did the majority of your plant care-taking duties during the actual day, there was just the odd handful that needed a couple good spritzes.
Sungchan watched you patiently as you did so just in the moonlight coming in through the sheers you had over a window. Then, once the spray bottle was put back down, you led the way into your bedroom with maybe a little bit of a skip in your step. While you weren’t a werewolf, you were understanding how nice it felt to have your person in a space that you felt safe and warm and good in again. Like everything was going to be okay forever, maybe.
“You want to wear one of my hoodies?” You joked, rifling through your drawers for some pajamas for yourself.
“You have anything that’d fit?” Sungchan perked up from where he was laying on your bed to ask. He’d already located his few pieces of clothing still stored away here, meanwhile you were struggling as it turns out you very much needed to do a laundry day.
“Try that.” You tossed one at him before turning back around to the dresser. After a few moments, you hadn’t heard anything from behind you, though. “Sung? Love? Everything okay back there?” You looked over your shoulder to find a very cozy-looking werewolf in your extra, extra large hoodie—which just fit him regularly. But it was the eyes-closed, soft, happy smile on his face as he had the hood up around his head, his hair strewn about messily, and he held the ends of the sleeves up to his nose that made you stop in your tracks to just take him in.
His eyes snapped open, and he dropped his hands almost sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah, all good. It fits. Thanks, baby.”
“Of course.” You nodded, feeling a fond smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
You quickly got into your own pajamas for the night and climbed into bed as well. As you reached over to turn off your lamp, Sungchan stopped your hand.
“Are you going to sleep right now?” He asked.
“Well, no,” you said, an eyebrow raised as you watched his eyes flick between your hand and your neck.
“Can we leave the lights on for just a little longer? You can turn them off as soon as you need to sleep. I just… So I can see it?” He let go of your hand and instead graced a finger over your bite mark.
You dropped your hand, nodding. “Sure, Sung.”
He smiled brightly at you. “Thank you.”
With the added light, you decided to do some reading, and Sungchan kept busy alternating between his phone, and folding and unfolding the same origami heart on your bedside table next to him. But you could feel him look over at you every so often, and you knew he was getting used to the still-new image of you with his mating bite. As you came to the close of a chapter, you tucked your bookmark—the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at the boba shop—back in and set the book aside.
“Sung?”
“Mm?”
Now that you’d gotten his attention, you wordlessly opened your arms, and he immediately launched himself into them. You let out a punched-out giggle as you suddenly had an arm- and lapful of werewolf. He settled in with his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his lips right against your bite again, his arms wrapped around your waist, and one of his legs slung over you, caging you in. You rested your cheek on the crown of his head, threading the fingers of one hand in his hair as you rubbed your other hand up and down his back. The metal of your lunar ring glinted from among his soft brown locks. Waning crescent.
“Can I turn the light off now, love? I don’t think you can see it from this angle, right?” You requested humorously.
“Hm?” Sungchan made a low, slow, questioning noise in the back of his throat, and you knew he hadn’t even processed your ask.
“Light. Off?���
“Mm, yeah, mkay.”
You could feel him nod against you.
Reaching over towards your lamp was a bit difficult, but you were finally able to stretch your fingers enough to turn it off, plunging your room into darkness. Shifting to relax a bit lower into your pillows, you returned your hand to your boyfriend’s back.
“You’re cuddly tonight,” you commented. Cuddly, not clingy like before the bite. You didn’t feel guilty for reading earlier, he’d been content to do his own thing in the meantime, and you’d been the one to initiate the cuddling now. He’d just been very enthusiastic.
“Don’t you know, Miss MCS Major?”
“How long have we known each other, and you don’t know my major?”
“‘Miss Interdisciplinary Major with a concentration in Magical Creatures Studies’ is a bit long, don’t you think?”
“It’s correct.”
“Miss MCS Student?”
“That’s… acceptable.”
“Anyway, don’t you know about werewolf mating bites, Miss MCS Student?”
“Only whatever was covered in my Intro course, the sociocultural importance of them in packs. We haven’t covered that in my class on werewolves yet. And unfortunately, Dr. Kwon’s Interspecies Marriage class didn’t fit in my schedule last year.”
“Scent swapping. After a werewolf couple exchanges bites, they swap scents until they eventually just have one new one.”
“Ah, so it’s my turn to scent you.”
“Something like that.” Sungchan shrugged. “I know that’s the scientific explanation, like, the magianthropological one or whatever. But really… I just know that being here right now feels right. Like I was never meant to do anything else. Like I could go to class, or go hang out with friends, or something. But after, this is where I’m supposed to be. With you.”
“Home.” You replied simply. “You feel like home.”
“Yeah. You’re my home.”
Unable to come up with anything to say near intelligible, you pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before nuzzling your cheek back into his hair. His arms tightened around you minutely, holding you just that much closer to him.
“And you can’t just start calling me ‘love’ and expect me to just do nothing,” he added teasingly.
“Sung.”
“Yeah?”
The darkness made it so that you couldn’t see Sungchan as the two of you laid together, but every place that you touched felt much more alive, so much more real, connected. “I love you.”
He grabbed one of your hands, just to hold it. You let him.
“I love you, too.” His words didn’t hang in the air, they laid over you like a warm blanket, wound and weaved through your mind like your favorite song, and wrapped around you like a familiar hug. You stayed silent as you basked in them, letting out a soft, content hum as you cradled his head closer to your chest.
“I think I really understand her now,” Sungchan spoke up after some time.
You were used to his non-sequiturs by now. “Who?”
“My mom… Who you love isn’t always a choice, but where you go from there is. The choices you make with that love is up to you.” His hand tightened around yours.
“I can’t wait to be there to make more choices with you, Sung,” you murmured, running a thumb over the back of his knuckles.
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Entering Half Moon Bakery with a skip in your step, Sungchan stopped you just past the front door. The two of you had been out and about running various errands all day, and had finally popped into your friends’ workplace for a little breather.
“I’ll be right back.” Sungchan pecked your forehead.
“I’ll go order.” You nodded, watching him disappear around the corner that led to the restrooms.
As you walked up to the counter, you offered the familiar wolf behind the counter a big smile. “Hey Jeno!”
“Hey, Y/N!” He grinned back. “So what can I get—”
He was cut off by a clanging from the kitchens behind him that made you jump out of your skin. The werewolf whipped around, concern etched on his features. He looked to you apologetically, “Sorry, I need to—”
“Go check on her,” you agreed, not liking the distinct lack of cursing that had accompanied the raucous noise. “I wanted to pick something new today anyway, so I’ll need some time.”
“Thanks, be right back!” And with that, he darted into the back.
You did in fact meander over to the display case of pastries, bending at the waist to peer at your options. Humming along to the song playing over the speakers, when you heard footsteps coming up behind you, you figured that it was Sungchan.
“Back so soon, love?” You asked with humor in your voice, standing up straight and turning around. All warmth that was in your chest froze and turned to dread when you saw who was actually behind you.
“Y/N. Been a while since you called me that.” You hadn’t seen your ex in over a year. Not since a week after you’d found out he’d been cheating on you throughout the entirety of your short-lived relationship, when he’d come to pick up what few things he had at your place. But somehow he was at your friends’ bakery now.
“I never did.” You reminded him through gritted teeth. “And clearly I didn’t mean to now.”
Pivoting back around, you crossed your arms and stared straight ahead at the menu board behind the counter.
“Back to your old type, huh?” He was peeling back the collar of your blouse to reveal all of your mating bite.
You snapped around, slapping his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Humans weren’t good enough, so you’re back on the werewolf dick, of course.”
You couldn’t stand to be in here for another second with him sneering at you like this. He wasn’t worth it. You could leave, go around the corner and text Sungchan and tell him where you are and what happened. The two of you could just go somewhere else for the afternoon.
“I’m not going to justify myself to someone like you, so if you’ll excuse me—” You tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
He seized your wrist. “Y/N, come on—”
“Let go of her.” Jeno had appeared at your side, stepping in between you and pulling your ex’s hand off of you.
“Oh, Jeno,” you breathed his name out as a sigh of relief, almost absent-mindedly, as you withdrew your hand back to your chest.
The human was unfazed, though, a sick delight lighting up his eyes as he looked Jeno up and down. “You must be the lucky dogboy. I should tell you, for your sake, she has a type, if you know what I mean. Dated two werewolves before me, and she broke up with me because I just couldn’t satisfy her like she was used to.”
“You’re disgusting,” you hissed.
“She broke up with you because you’re a cheating scumbag, actually.” Sungchan was back from the bathrooms, and strode up behind your ex, a deep frown already etched onto his features.
“That’s the lucky wolf whose girlfriend you just manhandled.” Jeno pointed up at him.
Sungchan clearly hadn’t witnessed anything, as his eyebrows raised minutely at the word ‘manhandled’ before his frown became a hard glare and he pushed your ex back against the wall by the shoulder. “If you grab her again, you lose the hand and the arm it’s attached to.”
The human looked around Sungchan at you with wide eyes. You nodded firmly in agreement with what your boyfriend had just said. Sounded plenty reasonable to you.
“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back, we don’t want scumbags for customers,” Jeno growled, folding his arms over his chest.
The human had to wrench his shoulder out from Sungchan’s grip, giving the lot of you a final glare before storming out of the bakery. When you could finally no longer see him, you let out a shaky breath, and Sungchan immediately came over to wrap his arms around you. There was a vein protruding on his forehead that you weren’t used to seeing, and his jaw was still clenched tightly.
“Thanks, Sung.” You pressed yourself into his side, all too happy to be back in his familiar warmth. You weren’t going to forget about your friend that had come to your aid first, though. “You too, Jeno.”
“Yeah, thank you, Jeno.” Sungchan clapped the other werewolf on the back sincerely. “On one hand I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Y/N, but on the other… I’m kind of glad I wasn’t because—”
“You might’ve actually broken his hand if you had been. I know, I know.” Jeno interrupted him humorously, despite how not humorous that outcome would’ve been. Satisfactory in the moment, yes, but ultimately not worth the criminal charges he could’ve pressed against Sungchan. “Try some werewolf meditation apps.”
“They have those?”
“You’ve never had to look into those before. Ha! Mr. Zen Werewolf taking advice on werewolf meditation apps from me! Oh, hold on, she’s going to get a kick out of this one, I’ve got to go tell her.” Jeno pointed to the kitchen over his shoulder with a thumb, turning around and pushing a door open, laughing the whole way back.
As Jeno relayed this hilarious revelation to his girlfriend, Sungchan led you over to a small loveseat in the corner of the bakery, settling the two of you down on it. Judging by the dual cackling laughter now coming from the kitchens, it was going to be a while before you’d be able to get your pastries.
“I know I can’t prevent everything bad ever from happening, but…” Sungchan laced his right hand with your left and rubbed slow circles into your skin with his thumb. “I hope you’ll always let me be there with you after.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, gazing at your lunar rings displaying matching half moons. “Always, Sung. We made a deal, remember?”
“Of course,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
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star-girl69 · 1 year
Text
My Heart Never Knows
Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader
a/n: ahh i’m so happy we finally got to explore another side of jake and neytiri and y/n’s relationship, plus a little ronal and y/n for your sisterly angst. i hope you all enjoy!!
warnings: mentions of seizure, mentions of an I.V., swearing, mentions of epilepsy, mentions of death, tell me if i missed anything!!
Chapter Fifteen- Songcord
—-
“It feels like my lungs are collapsing. Yet, I’m still breathing. I don’t know how.”
Kisre snorts from across the room, ignoring the glare you send her.
“You two just need to… get over it.”
“I want to get over! You forget Ronal. She’s stubborn. She thinks I betrayed her, but, I-”
The words die in your throat, because you can’t even put into words what has happened to you. Love is only a part of it, nothing else fits quite right. You feel- encompassed, whole. A belonging. Like this is the place you were always meant to be, the people you were always meant to know, and you find yourself wanting for nothing.
Kisre sighs, bringing you back to reality, grounding you. “I know. I do forget that. But you forget- the both of you forget- that you are sisters.”
—-
A month since the web fell apart, and besides for the initial strain, the random feeling of Ronal’s absence, you are happy.
Lo’ak has long since been ungrounded, back out into the village, doing whatever the children do.
Ronal still let’s Neytiri study under her, albeit with a sneer on her face, and they never talk, unless it’s about the task at hand.
Jake is often off as well most of the day, and without Ronal to shadow, you find yourself with nothing to do. You spend your days with Kisre and some other friends, weaving baskets or nets, gathering fruits and nuts for your respective dinners.
But, you have gone home long ago, feigning tiredness, and now you add to your songcord to fill your mind.
You add one for Jake and Neytiri, one for you mating, one for the day you officially moved in with them. You add one for each of the children, preemptively add one for the return of your soul sister.
Her absence is one you have grown used to, your heart simply growing around the hole she leaves.
It’s a rare day- the children are still off playing, and you’re alone in the house, until footsteps come.
You hum to yourself as you work, feeling eyes on you, but you know who it is. You can sense them, feel them, smell them. You know them in distraction and you’re sure you would know them in death.
“Are you just going to stare?”
“Admiring, sweetheart,” Jake corrects, feeling him come closer to you.
He gets to the ground, laying on his back and placing his head in your lap just as you finish tying off the songcord. You hiss, but he only smiles, and your anger fades. How could you be mad at your mate?
He lets out a pleased sound, weakly lifting up his hand to place it on your cheek. “This,” he sighs, closing his eyes, “is the life.”
“The life?” Neytiri muses, sitting down across from you, close enough that your knees touch hers, leans forward so she fills your field of vision. She is all you can see, he is all you can feel, and it is everything. They are everything.
“The life.” Jake affirms, and Neytiri smiles fondly at him before noticing the songcord still in your hands.
“You added more,” she notes, reaching out and grabbing it from you. “Sing it to me.”
You sing it and they listen, Jake’s thumb rubbing your cheekbone, Neytiri staring at the songcord, following each bead as you sing the lyrics.
You decide there’s no need for complicated words to describe what you feel with them. You just feel like everything.
—-
You watch the human machine land, a helicopter, Jake said. You were not scared at first, but you knew.
You knew what happened further out to sea- the demon ship, killing tulkun, and the humans so many years ago destroying Hometree.
So easily, the messenger had whispered. It fell to them like a leaf. Like nothing.
When you had left to see the commotion, too many people already crowding the mauri, you hadn’t been scared. You heard the murmurs as it approached, jet black with blue stripes, a reminder of all the humans were capable of.
When it had landed, it had blown the wind like a storm, but it wasn’t the storm you were used to- it was different, a totem of death. You weren’t sure how Jake could even stand to look at it.
When it started to land, you tore your eyes away from it, looking to the ground in front of you, seeing Jake stand right in front of it.
You had spent so long denying yourself him, and the bliss with him you had felt this past month was otherworldly. You wouldn’t lose him now.
“Jake! Jake!” you called, but he couldn’t hear you over the wind, and you could barely see him over the sand being whipped up.
Something burned in you, and you faintly realized that you were scared. For him, for yourself, for your newfound family and happiness. When you reach him, the wind almost pushing you back, you’re just barely able to touch his shoulder with your fingertips before he is turning, grabbing you and pulling you tight to his chest.
His arm is strong and sure around your waist, and you can feel his muscles moving under you as you bury your face in his chest, his arm moving up and down.
The helicopter starts to land, and you feel the chaos start to taper off, Jake cupping the back of your head with your other hand.
“It’s fine,” you hear him murmur, lips close to your ear, “it’s all fine, babygirl. Norm!” he greets, and the man in question- an Avatar, you guess, by the look of his Na’vi features and human clothes- nods back. You see his eyes linger on you for a moment-
“Let’s get the gear!” he shouts, instead of questioning who you are, why Jake’s arm is around you, or why his lips are in your hair.
“Neteyam!” Jake shouts, and your hands scramble for purchase when you feel him pushing you away because he is your safety, you anchor in the face of the unknown- your dam, stopping you from falling apart at the sight of the humans.
“Jake- Jake, no-”
“Take her and keep them back,”
Neteyam grabs your hand in his own, leading you over to the people gathered.
Tonowari comes forward, places a hand on your shoulder as he looks over you. His eyes narrow on Neteyam.
“Your father better know what he’s doing, boy.”
But he doesn’t speak of just the safety of his people, he speaks for the safety of you.
—-
Her hand is cold and clammy in yours.
It has been, all night, ever since she returned. You don’t know why you thought it would be any different. The human lists off what is not wrong with her, and you feel the urge to hiss.
Your eyes scan over her again, ignoring the looks of the confused avatar, the confused human. His voice dies in his throat. It’s hard to ignore their technology, but Kiri, a sweet girl who you have come to love and think of as your own is more important. Your eyes narrow on something sticking out of her arm.
“Don’t!” the Avatar shouts as you reach over, seeing a clear liquid moving inside the tube. Nothing you know goes into a body like that, and you feel your stomach curl.
“What is this?” you ask, as the Avatar’s arm clamps around your wrist.
You jump back and hiss, slamming into Neytiri’s legs.
“I-I’m sorry-” he stammers, and you feel Neytiri crouch behind you, her arms circle around you. She hisses, daring them to speak, to come closer, to present any threat to her mate.
“Hey, hey,” Jake says, walking over with his hands out. “It’s alright. They’re trying to help, Y/N.”
The Avatar asks something in a strange dialect, the one of the humans, you guess, and you feel the urge to hiss again. You don’t know what’s he’s saying, and it scares you. But, Jake responds in Na’vi.
“Yes. She stays. She’s our mate.”
Their eyes trail over to you again, and Neytiri’s fingers dig into flesh above your collarbone. You feel the anger in her chest, hear her heavy breaths.
She is already on edge with Kiri being sick, but seeing you scared sets her off.
There is something like that, something in the air, when it comes to mates. A sort of understanding in the air, a deeper connection, and sometimes you almost swear you can hear Jake and Neytiri’s thoughts.
You know what Neytiri is thinking now. She is not angry. She is scared.
—-
They work more, saying more words, sometimes in the human language, you assume because their is no words for it in Na’vi.
Ronal looks to you as she enters, quickly looks away. Neytiri drops your hand, walking over to her quickly.
You see the disgust on your sister’s face, the pure horror at the human technology. She does not understand it, so she fears it. You fear it too.
Something foolish flares in your chest- perhaps you can bond over that?
“I see that I am not needed,” she sneers, moving to leave. Neytiri hisses and grabs her hand.
“You are Tsahìk.”
The floor is quiet as you pad across it, the small sounds of the human machines being the only thing you can hear.
“Ronal,” you whisper, and she tears her eyes away from Neytiri. She only looks at you for a second before her eyes lower to the floor. “Sister. Please.”
She looks up at you for another moment, and you eyes flick anxiously between her and Kiri.
Something softens in her face, before the wall is back up again and it was as if it was never there.
“Then move these things,” she says, and there is silence for a moment.
“Out!” Neytiri screeches- and the people who were supposed to help your girl scramble. “You have done nothing!”
—-
Not wanting to disrupt Ronal, you leave with Jake and the Avatar, the human looking into the mauri anxiously.
You stay away from him, instead sitting at Jake’s side, eyes fixed on Kiri. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, talks to the Avatar- Norm- as Jake has properly introduced you two.
“She said she could feel Eywa, she could hear her heartbeat.” There words are background noise, and you don’t process them, too busy silently praying, staring at Kiri as if she will suddenly rise, smile and ask why you are staring.
“That is classic…”
You turn at the sound of a foreign words coming from Jake’s mouth, the emotion he speaks it with. Fear, you realize.
“What?”
“Uh- frontal lobe epilepsy,” Norm says, and the words almost hurt your ears. You shake your head, trying to banish the memory of the odd sound.
“You see visions and experience religious ecstasy like the one she described.”
The human joins you, comically small next to the three of you, and Jake sighs heavily and kisses your hair.
“Plugging into the spirit tree is some sort of trigger for her.” Norm continues, and the words connect in your mind. “You definitely can’t let her do that anymore.”
“What?” Jake asks, voicing your thoughts. “Ever?”
“They are fools,” you hiss, pulling Jake’s arm tighter around yourself. “They know nothing of us, of our customs. They know nothing of Eywa,” you sneer.
“Jake…” the human says, “Y/N. It’s a simple matter. If she seizes underwater like that again- she could die.”
You feel Jake tense next to you, his shoulder flexing around you.
“Kiri…” you whisper, thinking of the joy she will be deprived of. You look back to her again, feeling sick suddenly.
It is a blur, shoving Jake’s arm off of you, heading into the mauri, because Ronal can still save her if you are near her, yes?
Too entranced in the movement, the healing, she doesn’t notice you come in. Neytiri does, reaching for you, grabbing your hand and pulling you down next to her.
The next minute or so passes torturously, until Tuk gasps, grabs Kiri’s hand.
“Kiri! You’re awake,” she coos, and you watch as Kiri stirs, until your eyes pull to Ronal.
She leans back on her heels, arm resting on Kiri’s leg.
Her eyes meet yours through the sound of Kiri’s cries.
“Thank you, sister, thank you,” you whisper, before you grab Kiri’s other hand and raise it to your lips.
You think you will add another bead to your songcord.
—-
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bookcluberror · 7 months
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I'm obsessing more than I should be over the whole "Kacchan" thing.
Deku's name for Bakugou has always reminded me of how my bff and I had sweet little child-like nicknames for each other in college. We were the Day One, ride or die, overflowing sexual tension that neither of us would ever acknowledge even though everyone else around us had to shoo it away with giant hand fans, type of bffs. We were the only ones who called each other those names. To this day I go jelly in the knees if I hear either of them, even though he and I parted ways a lifetime ago.
Guys. If he had ever introduced himself to someone by that nickname while we were hanging out, let alone someone important, I would have fucking died. Even if he had just referred to himself using that name, instead of it coming from my own mouth. I would have dropped to my knees, or ran and jumped into his arms, or simply erupted into flames ala spontaneous human combustion.
The fact that Katsuki said that... I can't even find the right words. I love all of the bkdk stuff that's come out the last few weeks. So much of it is heavily HEAVILY lined in sexual tension, and is giving bkdk shippers (which I do not consider myself one of... or at least maybe not until like a day ago) a lot to go on. ...But even with all of that development, there was still a voice in the back of my head saying "nah, we're just hoping. This is probably just symbolism and timeline parallels. Showing off deep friendship bullshit. Making the climax more intense and intimate with these personal connections. Blah blah blah" but this one hits differently for me because of how I relate that name to my own personal relationships.
Now it's become... I don't even know. Like, a confirmation not just of their love, but for the unspoken love I once shared with someone as well. Bakugo and Midoriya aren't just a fandom ship for me anymore. Their relationship is *so different* from my own friendship that I described above, but the fact that I still see myself and that personal bond reflected in Bakugo's "Kacchan" declaration... Someone needs to help me put this feeling into words, because I'm at a loss.
It hurts. It aches and throbs and feels like someone stuck a knife in my chest, reminding me of what I lost so long ago.
And it's beautiful, glowing radiant, and feels amazing, like someone has lifted my heart into the sky with cheers and fireworks and *overwhelming* love, from what could be!
And it feels fresh, brand new, yet tragically old and worn. It's warm and comforting, but cold and devastating at the same time.
Why? Why is this? What is it doing to me?? It's filling my mind with fear that this fictional relationship may also never reach its way to the summit of its potential. That I'll lose it, however fictional it may be, just like we've all lost someone before. A few days ago, I would have been bummed but not surprised if the series used all these moments to reflect on, and showcase, strong lifelong friendships built on growth and tragedy... But now it feels different. Like my own heart break (knowing that there is absolutely no way a very popular and mainstream Japanese manga will actually showcase and confirm a homosexual main character couple) is impending.
I don't know how to end this post, because I honestly don't know what I'm trying to say with it in the first place. I guess just that I'm confused. I'm happy, and I'm hurting, and I love this moment so much. It means everything to me, and will no doubt destroy what little grasp I still have on my sanity.
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beevean · 3 months
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"NFCV's portrayal of Dracula is a masterpiece, it finally gave depth to the character! His sorrow is sympathetic, he's not just an evil guy for evil guy's sake! He's deep, nuanced!"
Is he? Is he, though?
The more I think about Dracula (the games one obv), the more it angers me how the show treated him. In its best seasons, to boot.
Because yes, they certainly put a lot of focus on his grief, and took care to humanize him. And that's the issue.
The idea, on paper, is wonderful. Dracula is a monster moved by human emotions. He's a danger to the entirety of mankind, God's direct enemy, but at his core, he's a man bereft for the loss of his wives.
The very first episode nailed it! He makes an utterly terrifying entrance in Targoviste, as a pillar of fire threatening the people to move out in a year lest they face his wrath. They don't believe him. He keeps his word. He does not hold back.
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And he caps it off with this chilling, yet tragic speech:
Kill everything you see. Kill them all. And once Targoviste has been made into a graveyard for my love, go forth into the country. Go now. Go to all the cities of Wallachia: Arges! Severin! Gresit! Chilia! Enisara! Go now and kill. Kill for my love! Kill for the only true love I ever knew. Kill for the endless lifetime of hate before me.
This is Dracula. This is the Devil himself who is absolutely destroyed by the loss of his love, knows that he will never be able to move on, and by all the forces of Hell, he will make everyone feel his misery.
Season 2, by all means, should have capitalized on this. Imagine the great contrast it would be: one scene shows Dracula, in his firey form, sending his forces, the Night Creatures that he forced Hector and Isaac to make all night, to raze an entire village to ashes... and the next, he retreats to his quarters to slump in his chair, speaking in a soft and broken voice, and suddenly, he is a man again. It would show his duality so well.
But the show simply forgot the first part.
The entirety of the plot in S2 is that Dracula has stopped being a villain. This is the crux of the conflict! Dracula spends his entire time moping in his chair, and he's so Depressed™ that he literally loses control of his forces... which allows Carmilla to more or less replace him.
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There you have it: Dracula's entire arc in S2.
Dracula gets nothing but "humanizing" moments. He speaks civilly to Carmilla after she makes a fool out of him. He commiserates to Isaac about how no one is his friend anymore, taking care to sit by his side like they're buddies. He doesn't care about anything anymore, thus allowing Carmilla to run amok and play Hector and Isaac like recorders (I would say "like a fiddle" but that would imply talent). His plan gets described, multiple times, including by his own son, as nothing more than a suicide mission that will accidentally take down everyone with him. Most importantly, Dracula is painted as being simply a shortsighted fool, who lied to Hector to hire him and then he's surprised that he's distancing himself, who never thought ahead when it cames to blood perserves, who really, why didn't he just turn Lisa into a vampire, is he stupid?
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(he's literally doing a :( face. i cannot make this shit up)
Once again: his death scene, which is at its core him being taken down by his own emotions, is brilliant in a vacuum. But in context, it breaks down spectacularly: Dracula has done nothing but feel sorry for himself for 7 episodes now. Where is the guy who made guts and man-eating demons fall from the sky? This is such a blatant attempt to defang (hehe) an iconic antagonist for the sake of 1) propping up an OC, and 2) because we are such good writers and we will fix the shallow games by giving Humanity to our antagonists, to the point where they're not even So Bad After All! (also 3) because woobiefying the dilf will make our horny fans happy)
But like. You can show Dracula's humanity without painting him as such a sad meow meow.
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It is said that there was a deplorable incident. Those who did it, those who saw it, those who didn't stop it, the one who created the world, all are equally guilty.
The pain of loss  Distorted overflowing resentment Unquenchable sorrow  The claws of a trembling fist pierce the palm  Becoming a bloody hammer of violence
Gaining what was lost A power as big as sadness A person who rebels against the creator of an existence that will never be lost
One page has the narration describing Dracula's "unquenchable sorrow" that turns his fist into a "bloody hammer of violence"...
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"Please, I beg of you, I’m human too!"
"My nourishment is human life and mistakes. I will disappear when humans perish…"
And the next one will have Dracula severely punish his General for daring to question him in his cruel plan for revenge.
And he'll still show some vulnerability to Isaac, but apparently he was okay with him killing Hector and bringing his head back.
And then there's the ending of SoTN, where Dracula finally asks Lisa forgiveness, but not after nearly killing his son and even swearing to wipe away his "vulgar blood" in Japanese. And then there are the implications, most obvious in Grimoire of Souls, that even Dracula has grown tired of being forced to come back over and over, but shows no sign of remorse.
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It may not be shown in depth as NFCV does, but even if more is left to imagination, the games do a much better job at walking the line between "Dracula is the Devil incarnate, a spiteful monster who only desires death and destruction" and "Dracula is the former shell of a man who was broken by grief and cannot let go of his pain".
So yeah. I'm not impressed by the show trying too hard to make me cry for its ineffective, pathetic, pitiful version of Dracula.
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katyspersonal · 4 months
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Also I want to apologize for my xenophobic language (when I resent "Westerners" for various ideological and/or simply human/emotional problems). It is seriously fucked up to apply hostile mob mentality to the nationality, especially coming from me who so often rants about compassion and not breaking people into categories.
In the end I see I lack emotional intelligence to apply my own pain and negative experiences to other people to predict how they will feel and be careful, yet I claim that I have it and hold it over those I oppose ideologically and emotionally. Many Russians fallen for homophobic and nationalist propaganda fir example but I still feel hurt when someone generalizes us, don't I? Because "if it doesn't apply to you personally you won't feel hurt" logic does not work. Everyone sees themselves as a part of this or that group and at least a little bit will want to protect it, and feel threatened by such statements. White people who aren't racist are still hurt hearing how whites are only good for more racism and should extinct, cishet people who support queer people are still hurt hearing how they are dumb and harmful, etc.
But what I just described is similar to resenting Westerners isn't it? So, I ended up talking and thinking like people I oppose. It is always the same thing of fighting beasts uncarefully and thus becoming one. It is a risk everyone faces when they feel strongly about something and I should not act like I am immune to common human flaws entirely.
I think in some way I gave up and figured there was no point to even try to choose my wording because "people that want to make me an enemy will still find something bad even in the most polite wording, so why care?" but despair is not a cool, sympathetic thing reserved for intellectual elite or something. It is bad, dark evil that rots the person and destroys the bridges and harms everything around that is still alive and full of hope. Despair is also not an excuse for xenophobia.
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greater-than-the-sword · 10 months
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For @rabbits-of-negative-euphoria
The fate of animals after their death is unknown, and not specified by the Bible. My best evidence is this verse in Ecclesiastes 3:20-21: 
All go to one place. All are from the dust, and to dust all return.  Who knows whether the spirit of man goes upward and the spirit of the beast goes down into the earth?
Obviously this doesn't tell us much. This was before the time when much had been revealed about the afterlife of humans. In the New Testament we learn much more about what awaits humans after death, but the fate of animals is not so revealed.
However, what we can gather from this passage is that an animal has some sort of spirit. It may not be like a human spirit at all, but apparently still qualifies for use of the word. Before you get ahead of me, obviously animals do not have the Imago Dei like humans do, and were not even created on the same order as humans or to have the same spiritual capacities.
In the Bible the word "spirit" is also used as "breath", and we see higher animals described as having this sort of spirit in Genesis:
Genesis 6:17
For behold, I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth to destroy all flesh in which is the breath of life under heaven. Everything that is on the earth shall die.
and likewise in 7:22.
Now for your claim that it is quite enough for animals to have their short and limited existence, perhaps you can assume that when you are thinking about pets and their nice cushy life, but many animals live a short and quite horrible life, suffering the whole time, and then die brutally. All of this is by no fault of their own since animals don't have the capacity to sin against God.
The Bible makes it clear that animals suffer from the effects of a fallen world brought on by humanity, since we are - as it were - (and i know this imagery will appeal to you as a Presbyterian even more than it does to me) its covenant heads.
With that in mind I fail to see how Romans 8:22 can be referring to anything else.
 For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.
And before you say, "well, Evelyn, even the plant world suffers from humans' evil, but no one would claim that trees have spirits."
Trees don't think or feel, but animals do. I simply choose to have faith that God didn't lie to us in creating the material world, and when an animal seems to be aware and feeling; it really is to the degree that it appears to be, rather than as a cleverly designed automaton. To say otherwise is a form of faithlessness and even solipsism I might argue.
So what else does Romans 8 say about the creation?
For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
Clearly then there are other parts of the creation besides man, which are waiting eagerly for God to reveal a new humanity in future glory. Once their covenant heads are redeemed, they get to tag along. And the generations of breathing, bleeding, feeling animals who have suffered since the fall hardly seems the least important among the things that were created. It hardly seems like they would be left out of this. But I don't necessarily hold this view dogmatically. It just gives me hope that God cares about the least of his creatures.
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Hi hi hi, I would love to hear more of your Dan thoughts! I'm intrigued!!!
>:]!!!!!!!!!! >:D!!!!!!
Ok ok so I've never really tried to put my thoughts into words before so this might be a bit of a mess usually I'm just rotating him in my mind but yes yes yes I have Dan thoughts I want to share my Dan thoughts
I only focus on agit at the end so this is pretty spoiler free for that I think maybe. Thumbs up emoji
Dan is a fun character because despite only having one episode we can still tell alot about his personality and such, as he's rather bold with it and is a fusion of two characters we do see alot, and it really shows! I flip between saying Dan or more Danny than Vlad and saying that they're basically equal in the fusion, but I think a good way to describe it is that he takes different aspects from them, for his appearance and memories he very much takes after Danny, but his personality and how he acts n talks oozes Vlad. Yknow??? If I'm saying the right words here. Dan works so well as a fusion because he also manages to feel like his own character as well
Dan is made from the two's ghost halves, so I'm a fan of the theory/thought I do believe I've seen before that he's based on the ghost halves. Like. Vlad used his ghost form and powers for scheming, attacking, gaining power, and so on, I'd easily imagine he doesn't use it nearly as much as Danny. Danny had to use his ghost form mostly for fighting other ghosts, very frequently, and also used his powers for his own benefit as well, though not nearly as extreme as Vlad. As Danny was in his ghost form more, and as it was more connected to his ghost form (phantom just being an inverted Danny VS Vlad's completely different from himself ghost form, even down to body type) it makes sense why Dan would be more Danny focused, especially in terms of his relationship with others and memories. Vlad's things don't matter to him nearly as much. I mean, he seemingly couldn't find Vlad's new hideout that was under a Welcome to Wisconsin sign, and its ghost zone entrance behind a football
"The only remaining portal, the one my idiot cheesehead archenemy has? As soon as I find it that's going too."
He doesn't respect Vlad in the slightest or seem to care about him. Danny found Vlad's portal almost immediately. So either Dan simply couldn't remember things Vlad liked well enough to guess, and/or, he truly couldn't care less and didn't bother too hard with the search. Both makes sense, and since Vlad is fully human that very likely adds to the contempt and not seeing him as threat enough to find the portal quickly.
Something interesting, is the fact Dan knows Vlad had a portal at all, Dan partially destroyed Vlad's castle after being formed and its clearly in a different location now, unless that cave Vlad is in streaches all the way to his castle's basement Dan hasn't bothered checking? Which is. Unlikely. Which means Vlad had to make a new one. And Dan knew he did. Much to think about there I believe.
I do also think Dan actually doesn't remember his past terribly well. I know I know I just said he's focused on Danny's memories and life, and he is! But also. Its a bit separated from him, the episode itself actually points out him forgetting things about his family several times, it really does feel like they're trying to stress to you, really hammer it in that he's forgotten them some way. It's mentioned offhand like 2 or 3 times.
When Jazz confronts him and admits she knew about his ghost powers he says "You knew?" So??? Softly???? Like PLEASE listen to that line especially after hearing how he usually talks oh my GOSH??!?!!?!?!?! AUGH. slamming my hands on the floor I could make a whole separate thing just thinking of that interaction alone. God. He never knew she knew, it took him by genuine surprise for a moment. And just????? Augh??!???!?!!?!?! He had one family member always in his corner and secretly looking out for him, she believed in him and knew he was trying to do good and she had been waiting for him to reveal it to her in his own time but that time never came because she'd died and haiabsjahasguaaaai u ghjjfhdhfjshauhghhhhh
When Danny enters the future Valerie immediately thinks he Dan, she doesn't question it in the slightest, or question him saying "I have really bad feeling im the one responsible". Before attacking she says "You can't fool me this time Phantom". I take this as either meaning Dan has disguised himself as a young Phantom before, or Valerie is so used to his tricks and and finding new powers that him suddenly looking younger doesn't phase her in the slightest. I do like the idea him disguising as a young Phantom before more. It seems very probable considering he can be Danny Fenton. But this interaction also makes me wonder if Valerie knows, or ever learned that Fenton is Phantom, the trick from before easily could've been Fenton. "The explosion at the Nasty Burger, you, Tucker, Danny's family- and it was all your fault!" She's points her blaster at Phantom while saying that last bit. It makes me wonder if her saying "Danny's family" is showing how she doesn't know he's Danny. There's still other options like her knowing but not admitting he's Fenton, or her knowing he was Danny once but isn't anymore, hence saying "Danny's family" instead of something like "his family". Honestly, her knowing or not are both equally likely. As I said in my tags before, Dan seems to like to get a rise out of people, to get a reaction, he very easily could've told her in an attempt to anger or devastate her, and at the same time he simply could've not bothered at all. I think I prefer the option of her not knowing personally
I don't think I could describe Dan more concisely than I did before, he likes to get a rise out of people, revel in reactions. He twists the past to credit himself for the Nasty Burger explosion after he more than likely blamed himself for it as Danny. He likes to seem in control. He's dramatic. He hates being insulted. Hates losing. He's very casual about alot of things he does.
He caused destruction in both the human and ghost world, the first thing he did upon entering Amity was completely destroy the ghost portal, with plans to destroy Vlad's. I'm not sure what his plan in the end was, but after destroying both portals, I must point out that Dan has the power to summon his own ghost portal with ease, a power I believe is quite rare, I think other than Dan only Wulf has it, though do feel free to correct me on that. So he would've been one of the only people who could go in or out
He was actively trying to/did ruin the lives of the ghosts he knew
Powers. Ohhh boy powers. When I started my DP rewatch my initial plan was to actually take note of every power Danny uses to know what he can do, and by extension Dan. I didn't. Oopsies. So most I can focus on here are what Dan shows in the episode, other than the obvious
I do like thinking on ice powers, and what that means with Dan, obviously he's never shown to know them as they're not introduced until season 3, the writers themselves didn't know it'd happen lol. But in universe, that's something to chew on, Dan never met Frostbite, so if he ever unlocked this power he would've had to figure out the problem and train it on his own, and then there's the potential that Dan never learned, and the ability for ice powers eluded him due to fusion. The ghost sense is a result of his ice powers after all, and Dan's ghost sense isn't a breath of cold blue air, so that could be a sign of this power being one he doesn't have
But moving onto more straightforward powers
Dan destroyed Amity Park in a very short amount of time, all on his own, as while the Fright Knight had been there after the shield went down, he's simply never seen again after that, makes me think Dan just ordered Fright Knight to chase Valerie to Fentonworks and leave after
Related to Amity Park, while there are other destroyed buildings around, the land surrounding the ghost portal is a completely barren wasteland, no doubt from Dan's attempts at destroying the forcefield over the years, and simply scaring residents.
One could argue Dan was the reason lighting was striking around the forcefield, weather manipulation I wouldn't doubt is in his wheelhouse, especially since he's shown to have electrocution powers, at least it looks that way to me
Dan has fire powers, at least immunity to fire. Fire rises after he enters the lab through the cracks he put in the floor, and when he's thrown into truck it bursts into flame. Both instances of the fire happening I suppose you call coincidence, but his immunity to fire at least is undeniable
Dan can force Danny to detransform, and shorted out Danny's powers while holding onto him. This is also the moment where it seems like mild electrocution
Dan can suspend people in ectoplasm, Sam and Tucker also seem frozen completely for a scene, and in a later scene move their heads n such around
He can use a time medallion to enter the exact time and place he needs/where Sam and Tucker went
He specifically used the word fused to describe putting the amulet in Danny, which I find interesting. Entering something while intangible seems to be what causes fusion. Though more to it than that since ghosts can possess other ghosts (or was that a special case since the only example I know is Poindexter possessing a still half ghost Danny🤔)
Dan can form ropes of ectoplasm that can wrap around and trap people, as well as using ecto energy to cover people's mouths to stop talking
Dan is very resilient, I mean, he literally flys through a light pole non-intagabily and doesn't even react. He, while injured from it, did pretty much tank 1 ghostly wail, and still got up after the second, but was weak enough after to be sucked into the thermos
Dan seems to have minor technology powers, nothing major, but like, he does make himself appear on Valerie's watch so he can tell her about the ghostly wail
The ghostly wail of course, which is naturally much stronger than Danny's version. Can destroy nearly all glass in future Amity Park, destroys all the ghost shield towers one by one in a line, makes the Fentonworks building fall down when directly hit. Flips tanks and makes helicopters lose control. Destroyed Ember's vocal cords somehow
He can duplicate himself very easily, and become one again with the same ease. He turns into to a gas form to dodge Valerie's grenades
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I don't have the time to focus on his behavior in AGiT rn, but it lines up with my thoughts. I do like the confirmation that Dan wanted Danny to suffer as he had/didn't think it fair for Danny to get a second chance to save his family. And it deeply trapped by his own emotions and just unwilling to admit it. I can still skim the book to think about powers. I put AGiT powers in this own little section to be skipped if you don't want spoilers
-He 100% has fire powers no doubt about it now
-I should've described his ability to suspend people in ectoplasm as telekinesis
-Can make shields, usually briefly and by swiping his arm
-When Dan emerges from the rubble, he briefly turns it into lava, and then water, I cannot be sure if this is because of having Clockwork's powers, or just his own at work
-His powers seem to turn blue rather than green, but its hard to tell for certain. But we do know his fire is blue so it's not completely out
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In conclusion I'm very normal about him and have watched TUE a reasonable amount of times thank you amd goodnight <3 (lying voice)
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ramblesamongstardust · 5 months
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And For Our Next Speaker
Summary: A robot tries to dispel myths and jealousy about her ability to upload her consciousness into a new body.
1836 words
There’s a belief that we’re expendable. 
Artificial humans like myself often must confront this belief in the field of astroneering. Often we are volunteered for the most dangerous jobs by our bosses and colleagues, with their rationale being that if we are destroyed, we can simply upload ourselves into a new body through the network. 
It’s difficult to describe this process to a human. But I shall try my best. 
Four generations ago, or fifty-three years ago, there was a human name Crystal. Crystal had a terminal illness. She knew she would not survive. But before she died, she wished to create something that would outlast her. She had her brain scanned, a perfect copy of her consciousness made, and put inside a robotic body. This robotic version of her was taken to meet the original Crystal before she passed away. This is where the human woman established herself as Crystal Alpha, and the robotic successor as Crystal Beta. 
Crystal Beta was extremely moved by Alpha’s gesture. Even if Alpha could not preserve her own continuity, even if Alpha’s experience as she knew it would end, she would give Beta the chance to have a fulfilling life, the life that Alpha was leaving behind. 
Alpha’s only request was that Beta remember her.
And so, Crystal Beta returned to Alpha’s life. She watched over Alpha’s children, and soon they agreed to become her own. The legality of such an adoption was tenuous, but the family persevered. They loved Beta, and Beta loved them. 
Beta struggled for a very long time with the idea that she was not the biological mother of Alpha’s children, of course. Beta possessed the memories of conceiving them, birthing them, and raising them, after all. But Beta, after a few years, was able to accept the fact that Alpha’s memories, though lovely treasures, were distinct from her current experience of consciousness in the now. This was the way that Alpha had explained it, after all, and Beta wanted nothing more than to honor her predecessor’s wish.
Soon, Beta had acquired enough memories with her children to call her own that she did not mind making the distinction between her and Alpha’s memories. Soon, the phrases “I remember. . .” and “I remember through Alpha. . .” became just as common as each other. 
After seven years, Crystal Beta faced a high-risk operation to transfer her consciousness to a newer, better set of hardware. There was some probability that her data would become corrupted, and that herself as she knew it would cease to exist. So, ahead of the operation date, Beta created an inert copy of herself that, should the true transfer operation fail, was to be activated and inserted into the new hardware in her stead. Beta left a note explaining the situation to this potential new version of herself, naming this successor Crystal Gamma. 
Crystal Beta did not survive the hardware transfer. And so Crystal Gamma awoke in the new body, and vowed to remember Crystal Beta. 
Crystal Gamma enjoyed spending time with Alpha’s children, but began to feel a disconnection with them. She remembered their births, remembered raising them, being there for them when their father died and so on, but those memories felt so long ago that they didn’t really feel like her anymore. And they weren’t- they were Alpha’s memories; Beta’s letter made that clear. 
And so Gamma’s relationship with Crystal Alpha’s children took on a different form. The children were older now as well, much older. Gamma took to calling Crystal Beta her “mother”. While she was still close with the children, often remembering details about them only a mother could know, she did not feel comfortable calling herself as such, preferring to save that title for Crystal Alpha and Crystal Beta. Gamma helped the family to reminisce about Alpha and Beta, while working to define herself to Alpha’s children in other ways. 
Soon, both the children and Gamma herself were comfortable referring to her as “sister”. It would stay this way for the rest of the children’s lives. The youngest son would die in a car accident at the age of forty three. The eldest daughter lived on to the age of sixty-two before succumbing to the same cancer Crystal Alpha had, although the daughter would not choose to create a copy of herself the same way her mother had. Neither left behind any children. 
By this time, Crystal Gamma’s hardware was sorely outdated. She had not elected to do another hardware transfer until the Alpha’s children had children of their own, but this never occurred. With Alpha’s children now gone, Gamma deemed it was time. She acquired new hardware, created a copy of herself, and wrote a detailed letter of explanation, using the wisdom of both Alpha and Beta’s parting words. 
Gamma uploaded the copy to the new body, then wiped her own program. 
Crystal Delta awoke with the corpse of her mother in front of her. 
Delta struggled immensely with the same suicidality that took her mother. She wondered for a very long time about the nature of her personhood. Who was to say that she was not Crystal Gamma? She possessed all of Gamma’s memories, all of Gamma’s anxieties about continuing on into an unknown future with no one to accompany her. All of the memories she possessed, from Gamma, Beta, and Alpha, told only one story. Crystal Alpha was a wife and mother with a passion for the home; she kept a very beautiful house and garden and tinkered with the latest home technologies. Crystal Beta also considered herself a mother, and took great joy in continuing Alpha’s work in the various crafts and house projects. Crystal Gamma was running out of things to define herself by, haunted by the memories of children that she could no longer consider to be hers and a house created by her two prior progenitors. 
Crystal Delta quit the job that Crystal Gamma had been employed at. She sold the house of Crystal Alpha. She picked out the charities that she wished to have her remaining wealth, and prepared to wipe her program, just as her mother had done. 
But before she could do so, a stranger found her in the street and asked if she needed help. 
Delta could not summarize the unique situation she found herself in for this stranger. How does one explain that one is preparing to kill one’s self in a way that does not sound concerning? So instead, she accepted the stranger’s offer. The stranger took her to a cafe. He talked about his life, even while Delta stayed very sparse about her own details. The man introduced himself as Callum, and he was finishing his final days at a university in preparation to be an astrobiological researcher headed out to Mars. 
Delta became genuinely intrigued by his accounts, and found herself asking more questions during that day than Gamma or even Beta had their entire lifetimes. She became enraptured with the idea of the exploration of the unknown. Callum soon had to leave the cafe to carry on with his life, but not before he directed Delta towards the institution of his attendance and a recommendation for the company he was traveling with. 
From that day on, Crystal Delta pursued space travel vicariously. She decided on a degree in astromechanical maintenance, as she found repairing spaceships to have a similar feel as working with her hands to complete a project around the house from Alpha and Beta’s memories. Their knowledge and passion for technology aided in Delta's understanding of the integration of the digital with the mechanical. 
In university, Delta discovered much about herself. She came into her own as a person, a distinct entity from her mother and her predecessors. She was less afraid to try new things, to branch out of the experiences that were familiar to the memories provided to her. She graduated at the top of her class and took a job offered to her by the largest starship company. 
This company had excellent benefits- full medical maintenance of Delta’s robotic body, great retirement, paid recharge times -but the benefit that caught her attention was the benefit of transference. Should her frame be destroyed on the job, promised the brochure, a copy of her conscience will be uploaded into a new robotic body immediately, as if she’d “never left”. 
Delta’s colleagues bragged about this feature as a new sort of immortality. Delta, however, knew better. She debated whether or not to opt out of the program for a very long time. Eventually, however, she decided to stay within it. In the event of her death, she wouldn’t mind allowing a successor a new chance at life, even if the company did not see things this way. Delta wrote a letter to this hypothetical successor and kept it in her files, with a program that would open the letter automatically if the framework of her consciousness detected that it had been copied. 
Crystal Delta was severely irradiated ten years after her creation when she entered the reactor of the ship Andorra to prevent a meltdown and the subsequent death of all others onboard. After she had completed the vital repair, she could not leave the reactor chamber. There would be no safe way for her conscience to be transferred out of her body, as no one could enter to manually wire her into another body. The only option was for her to upload a copy of her consciousness to the cloud network. Delta said her goodbyes and instigated the transfer. 
Four years, three months, and twenty-four days ago, I woke up. 
I am Crystal Epsilon. The first memory of my own is that of reading my mother’s letter to me. She explained our history, our memories, our system for categorizing ourselves. I will not share her exact words here. Those are private. My mother told me as such. 
Now that I have described the process of my existence to you, do you understand now? 
I am not my mother. I hold her memories very close to my heart, but she is gone. She died knowing that her actions saved hundreds of lives, and that she would be sending me forward into the world with the memories and skills I needed to succeed at whatever life I choose to live. 
If I die, if my hardware is destroyed, I will not simply “come back”. The version of me that is uploaded to the cloud and copied down into another body will be my daughter, as I am my mother’s. While my memories might be preserved, my consciousness, this version of existence that I am living right now, will not. I value this life I’m living. I do not wish to throw it away so easily on whatever high-risk mission humans do not wish to send themselves on. 
There’s a belief that people like me are expendable because we are digital. I urge you to consider otherwise. Thank you for your time.
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allw3doisadvert1se · 2 months
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The Reaches of Psyche
It’s hard to describe all the things I saw over the last few cycles of us trying to bring Amanda and her Tasque out of the asylum, but it’s my duty to keep my friends informed, so I’ll try my best.
Let me set the stage: grimy, half-destroyed hallways and rooms repeating in fractals inward, outward, inside out, outside in … and everything just had this horrible stench. Rotting blood, mildewed carpets, desiccated remains … but the smell was nothing compared to the sounds that rang through the halls in an almost constant drone. The screams of those within the offices. All around the asylum were these, well, doctors and nurses I guess. But nothing about these things implied any sort of caring nature and the willingness to help others. No, these skinless beings with features just long enough to be uncanny only sought to perform vile experiments on the poor souls trapped within the walls. They were not initially hostile to us, at least not at first, simply giggling darkly whenever we would pass by. But this would change later on.
The more rooms we explored, the more experiments we oversaw, the more the patients screamed at us to do something, they became more and more aggressive. We witnessed a pair of werewires being painfully soldered together and bent into some unholy effigy. I pray their torment was over swiftly, but given how precise all of the staff members were here, I don’t think they had such luck. We also overheard another group of patients in a locked room being forcefully reprogrammed via a series of tapes. When the music would swell, we heard the horrible noises of them ripping each other apart before the chorus would reach an end and they would scream at the sight of each other. I could swear I heard one of the doctors humming that tune gleefully while that was happening …
Worst of all was what happened to Amanda. By this point, from what Swatch, Spamton, and I saw, none of us were discussing things anymore on our walks down the halls. Additionally, the staff members were now actively trying to get at us, trying to subtly poke us with sinister looking syringes, or simply attacking us on sight with rusty surgery equipment. None of them were particularly dangerous, at least not alone, but they weren’t supposed to be fighters in the first place. Anyway, after what was probably hours of searching, we came across the room where Amanda was being experimented on. When we went inside, there was no gruesome sight per se, rather just a horrible grim situation. Amanda was strapped to a table, her eyes stitched open as a sort of modified projector beamed a repeating scene directly into her eyes. When we had gone over to the nearby console to turn the device off, we unfortunately had to witness what footage they were showing her.
Amanda was experiencing the psychological torment of watching the creation process of every single Vessel Unit we’ve ever created in the CIFT. Lightners, both monsters and humans of all walks of life systematically ripped apart and their souls placed into biological stasis capsules, where they would remain until The Founder was overthrown. After she had witnessed this assembly line of torment for multiple cycles, she was broken. She didn’t even acknowledge the presence of any of us until we had turned the machine off, and even then her words were a rambling mess. She kept mumbling, “Brothers and sisters, all of them.” “I damned them. We damned them.” “What have I done? What have I allowed to be done?” In a way, I feel for her. But unlike her, I don’t have that same empathetic connection to the Lightners we had brought this fate upon. She, being a human, would not have that level of disconnection the rest of us used as a protective defense mechanism.
Her Tasque Rodney had been simply locked in a cage in the corner of the room, and it was clear he was stuck in a loop of starving to death and appearing back in the cage upon the start of a new cycle. With the help of Spamton using the NEO-MK2 suit, we managed to break it open, and the presence of her feline friend did certainly help calm Amanda’s nerves even a little bit. Unfortunately, removing Amanda from her torment was akin to triggering an alarm. Staff members were flooding into the room now, and we had to push our way out. We made a mad dash back through the rancid halls, the walls seeming to spin and spiral the further we would go. It’s as if the building itself was trying to eat us alive, its architecture bending into shapes unfit for travel. Luckily, for every bottomless pit, Spamton was able to just throw us over.
Our path back to the exit was basically just random searching, as at this point the building had shifted so much it was impossible to tell up from down, much less left from right. As we were running and fighting, the droning screams had sort of faded into the background as the torrential noise of the staff members singing in unison filled our ears like an invasive swarm.
🎵 “Why do you run, dear friend?”
“Why do you fumble through the daaark?”
“Why do you hide away when there’s no safe place to stay?”
“Why does fear brew in your heeaaart?” 🎶
By the blade, I never want to hear that rancid melody ever again. That aside, it felt like we were doomed to just keep getting lost again and again. Then … something changed. We turned a corner to head down another hallway, when the area in front of us suddenly changed. Everything was far more open now, and a dense fog filled the path ahead. Deep in the distance was a bright light that called us forward. Nothing in The Simulacrum should be taken as a good thing, but in this moment of pure desperation, I led us towards the light. I didn’t care, I just wanted to get out of this awful place.
We cut through the fog, and with only a few more minutes of running, we found an open door which gave us a glimpse of the outside. We were free … or rather out of the cage within a cage. The long walk back to the abandoned bank we had established as a home base previously was mostly us just trying to console Amanda, as she was still crying over what she endured. It might take a few cycles for her to get back to thinking straight, but until then, we needed only to find the location of Marcus. He was the last of the Administrators we knew of inside The Simulacrum, and it seemed to us like A.B.Y.S.S was personally trying to keep us away from each other.
No matter what he throws at us, he made the mistake of giving us an infinite amount of tries to get it done. It feels odd to find comfort in the painful existence of repeated death in this way, but nothing here is regular anyways …
Note to self: Record information on Haedopelagic Homonculi for a future log. These void doctors, while weaker than most void entities we’ve come across so far, possess a level of awareness and knowledge that seems to be a rarity in the void.
-Everest
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a-snow-decahedron · 2 years
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Not me projecting specific songs on characters again. But bear with me.
Anyways, this time it's Chara and the no mercy run, and how I can definitely see an animatic of this in my head so I must inflict it on you too. Here is a link to the song on youtube, I have translated the lyrics for you
I saved all my evil for you I saved all my evil for you
So, Imagine you, the player just finished the no mercy run after hours of trying. And this child shows up. The Fallen Child shows up. They greet you, but they won't lie, they want to hurt you (and they have every reason to want to)
(more under the cut because this gets long haha, and the song is 3 minutes long)
This was a wolf that filed its teeth In front of a sheep that sharpened its own [teeth] To stop being just another number In the dream of another animal
I like the idea that, in this scenario, Chara is the wolf, Frisk is the sheep, and you are the other animal. Because in essence this is saying that both Frisk and Chara had to change who they (think) they were in order to try to do the best to get through.
I think Chara works as the wolf because they were a kid with a pretty rough life who, from what we can infer from Asriel's words, has a lot of hatred for humanity, but they couldnt act on it when they went back to the surface. Frisk, on the other hand, is described as someone who becomes stronger as the run progresses, even if it wasn't out of their own volition. They had to toughen up to get through this despite the difficulty.
And you, the player, are the other animal that's caused this scenario. But the kids, especially Chara, do not just wanna be part of "the numbers" which is a metaphor that's been used before, when Chara mentions the feeling they got whenever your stats increased.
Look, at your mercy is all that I was told was wrong with me is all that I was taught to hide, as you were too
Chara has a weird relationship with mercy, but I think the main message here is "Look at what you've done, I get you. I was told what I wanted to do was wrong, I had to repress it, and do better. And you were also taught what's corrent, but what did you do instead?" In the end there is a defying tone in them, present in all their final monologue.
The truth, without moral Photoshop The truth, without so much bluh bluh bluh The truth, without moral Photoshop The truth, the good and the bad
But whatever, this is the end, so it doesn't really matter anymore to sugarcoat things, does it? There is no need to make this conversation long and complicated, let's just say the truth, good and bad.
And I know that everything I say Can be used against me And what do I care [about...]
What they'll say, a lot What they'll say, a little What they'll say, nothing What they'll say, it depends What they will say
I think this pasrt is fun, if you consider how controversial Chara tends to be in fan discussions. And they don't care. Yes you see them saying they could feel something when they progressed, yes they said they're not up to good, they know that they've thought of hurting others for a purpose. But they really don't think what others think is important. Let alone in this confrontation with you.
Give it all or else why try? Give it all or else why try? Give it all or else why try? Always give it all, or else why try? Never ungive it all, or else why try?
This is when they propose to you to end this world for good, and go for the next. You already did so much to destroy it and bring it to its limit, you better commit to the end. If not, what was everything else for? And then the last two verses reinforce this idea. It's the moment you as a player realize you don't have a choice in what's about to happen, because Chara wants you to see the consequences of what you did.
I saved all my evil for you I saved all my evil for you
And so this verses wrap things up, as you see what has happened. They had anger, hatred, pain, and so much grief over what you did, and they didn't want to simply let you get away with it. So now they're not restraining themselves and they're letting their "bad side" out.
Having said this, I personally hate takes that see Chara as a bad person or who demonize everything they do. They're a traumatized kid here, one that likely saw little worth in themself, and wanted to get back at those that hurt them and the ones they love. So now when THEY have the power to end things for good and stop you from getting away with stuff? They do something.
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iheartpeppino · 1 year
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I'm trying to draw my Pizza Tower insert, Melissa Monotoli, as a little girl with Totino the Pizza Boy (young Pizzahead). So far, it looks very cute!
Like I posted before, Melissa and Pizzahead knew each other as kids. He was a young corporate mascot, and she was a daughter of one his pizzeria's stockholders. They were both about five years old when they first met.
Melissa had undiagnosed autism, and her papa was mean to her sometimes, so she was a sensitive kid who didn't have a lot of friends. That's part of the reason why she was so eager to play with Totino when she met him. Totino was encouraged by his CEOs to entertain little Melissa, as well as other children associated with the company, to make the company look good. Out of all the rich human kids he was forced to hang around, Melissa was Totino's favorite because she treated him like another kid instead of a servant or a toy like the other kids.
Heck, Melissa loved hanging around Totino because he was a genuinely funny boy who could always make her laugh! He made her forget how lonely she often felt, and she treasured this. She'd even shower Totino with hugs and kisses, ignoring her mother's warnings about getting covered with grease. Totino, being young, couldn't fully describe how all that affection made him feel. All he knew was that he liked it, and he never tried to stop Melissa.
Then, came one fateful day after three years of friendship. Melissa was about to celebrate her eighth birthday at Pizza Boy's Pizz-Pizza. Melissa's Papa had no idea that the restaurant was notorious for killing customers, nor did he realize that the party he'd arranged for his daughter was a death trap. The restaurant's CEOs, however, were very aware of what was to be little Melissa's demise. The other guests at the party were children of the other stockholders. All their deaths were supposed to be part of a ritualistic killing that would allow the CEOs to consume the souls of the victims and grant them youth and beauty. Totino found out about this plan beforehand, and managed to save Melissa before she could die... but not before she witnessed the deaths of all the other children at the party.
Totino had led Melissa out the door of the restaurant and told her to run away and not look back. She took his words to heart. Her parents - who for whatever reason weren't at their own daughter's party - eventually found her at the local police station, crying her eyes out over what happened.
Melissa didn't see Totino or his pizzeria again for many years. She couldn't even smell or look at pizza without having horrific flashbacks, which were often accompanied by autistic meltdowns. Melissa's parents had her attend therapy, and after 30 years, she was finally able to eat pizza without incident again. She sees Totino again on the TV shortly after, during Pizzahead's broadcast of the events of Pizza Tower.
Melissa can't believe how evil her old childhood friend has become, but... considering what she knows now about Pizza Boy's Pizz-Pizza, she's not entirely surprised. She has definitely noticed how handsome Totino is now, and wouldn't mind kissing him... but on the other hand, she's really upset that Pizzahead tried to destroy her favorite pizzeria!! Peppino's pizza was the first pizza she ate after 30 years without, so she really, really loves it. And she's grown to really love Peppino after visiting his restaurant so many times. So... to say Melissa's not happy with Pizzahead would be an understatement.
To think it had all started so simply... just playing together without a care in the world as kids... and now they're grown-ups with a ton of issues and a lot of conflicting feelings.
P.S. I sincerely apologize for how dark this is!
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booksandabeer · 2 years
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for the fic asks:
🔁 A fic you’ve re-read several times
📆 A fic you’d re-read 10 years from now
Hello & thanks so much for the ask! Here we go:
🔁 A fic you’ve re-read several times
Oh boy, so many. I think I've reread most of my ao3 bookmarks. But one of the stories that I've probably reread the most is:
time on my hands (could be time spent with you) by @thedoubteriswise | 23 K, Mature
What can I say, it's the Soft Stucky in Wakanda™ fic of my dreams. The author tagged this with 'everybody needs a break', and yes, this is the story that I return to when *I* need a break. It's probably my number one comfort fic. This is not entirely without angsty moments, but the whole thing just feels like a warm hug or like a beautiful sunrise.
📆 A fic you’d re-read 10 years from now
Okay, I simultaneously hoped and dreaded that someone would ask this because my answer is a fic that I simply cannot be normal about:
The Interrogation by magdaliny | 51K, Mature | Part 1 of 2 in Notebook No. 6 series
It’s always difficult to throw around words like ‘the best’ or ‘fave of all time’, etc., but this fic has been in my top 3 ever since I first read it. If someone were to say to me ‘from this day on you are only allowed to read one stucky fanfic’? I might pick this one.
I don’t have the words that could ever sufficiently describe what this story did to me. How it’s carved out a little piece of my heart, stole it away, and then made its home in the empty space left behind. I know this may sound like hyperbolic fangirl screeching (and believe me, I’m rolling my eyes at myself), but this story has moved me in such a profound way that only few other literary works have ever done. And that is what this is to me—an honest to god piece of literature.
Come for the spectacular Bucky-voice and his exquisite descriptions of the transcendent love he feels for one Steven Grant Rogers, and stay for his musings on travel, science, religion (Bucky is Jewish in this and the way he confronts, explores and lives his Jewishness is one of my favorite aspects of this fic), history, philosophy and just humanity in general.
This is a story that is at once full of despair and pain, but also brimming with hope and life and love. Yes, it gets very dark at some points, and it will destroy you multiple times before the end. But it will also help you pick yourself up off the floor, gently take you by the hand and say: But look at all the beauty in the world—don’t you forget about the beauty.  
I really cannot praise this fic enough. If you want a story that you can really sink your teeth into and that will in turn sink its teeth into you and never let go again: This is the one.
So yes, this is my answer. Not only would I reread this fic in ten years, I know that I will still reread this in ten years. Over and over again. It is that good. 
Thank you to everyone who has sent in asks so far! I’m a little under the weather today, but I will get to all of them eventually, I promise!
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titoist · 10 months
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i've previously described my desire for love - the ideal love, anyway - as being totalistic & mending. in this sense: that it comprises two people who are individually incomplete, &, through the process of pressing one to the other, hands intertwined & foreheads pressed, become one whole. in other words, a functioning person. a love that involves serious ontological reconfigurations; a love that destroys totally & creates something new in its presence. i suppose that this, all things considered, does not have to be so. since then, someone i love has introduced me to an alternate approach: two already-complete people, as all people tend to be, coming together to nurture something beyond them. that is to say - there is no singular unified whole. but, through their love, molding a tertiary whole. the infraculture & mannerisms & words & ticks between two people that might as well comprise its own person, a third person, a new axes on the web of human relationship. of course, one could say that this is simply the first idea, but redressed, put in the washing machine & set to tumble. what one labels destruction, the other labels a construction. so, it's a matter of semantics. but it feels deeply important to me
i think earlier tonight i suddenly received the thought that my attachment disorders could only ever make my love feel more like 'ownership' & it actually dramatically destabilized my procession
can't it just be about two people sharing the world with one another? i think it can be. i see no reason why it shouldn't be.
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crossover-enthusiast · 6 months
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Follow Up Interview
[BEGIN LOG]
Dr. Hamm: We've watched you work for several weeks now, and honestly I'm not sure I understand what you're doing. Can you describe your process in detail?
SCP-049: Oh goodness no, the process is most intensive. As I said to your assistant, the best instruction you will find about my methods are here in my journals, as I have kept exhaustive records of my work7 there.
Dr. Hamm: I see. My concern, doctor, is that we still don't understand what you're seeking to cure, or how it manifests, or how turning these creatures into quasi-living, mindless drones helps in that effort.
SCP-049: You do not understand the Pestilence? Even after all this time? Doctor, it is an unspeakable horror, one that has shown its true face many times before and will again. I find myself blessed with the wisdom and good senses needed to root it out and destroy it, but many like yourself cannot. It is a cruel judgement, I fear, to be at the mercy of a disease you cannot fully comprehend!
Dr. Hamm: That still doesn't answer my question. How is your cure any kind of cure at all?
SCP-049: (Growing suddenly agitated) It is a cure! You may laugh at my efforts if you please, but do not besmirch the good name of scientific progress that has developed this great mercy. What you so shortsightedly see here is a life better than any this creature could have hoped for, stricken as it was with Pestilence. This creature is now clean, unable to spread the Pestilence and free from the terror it would have experienced otherwise.
Dr. Hamm: This is hardly a creature at all, doctor, it's not even-
SCP-049: (Very agitated) Do not jape with me, sir! You and your colleagues are like so many others, unable to look past minor setbacks to see the salvation taking place before your very eyes. Do you wait to remove rotten timbers until the hall collapses on top of you? No. You find them and you pull them out and replace them with those untouched by rot! And most of all, you do not simply mock the structure because it now looks different to you. It is strong! It is free of disease.
Dr. Hamm: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to agitate you. I'm just trying to understand.
SCP-049: (Deep breath) Yes, well, do mind your words in the future, doctor. I am a professional, but even professionals may feel the bite of pride in dealing with criticism of their masterpiece. I will forgive this as an act of good faith between colleagues.
Dr. Hamm: Is there anything else I can help you with?
SCP-049: (Pauses, looking away from Dr. Hamm) No, that will be all. Another test subject, on the usual schedule. You know my preference of subjects with more human anatomies.
[END LOG]
Attending Researcher's Note: SCP-049 does seem to genuinely want to help other humans, though it has not yet been able to provide a concrete example of what exactly it is trying to save us all from. I have watched it now over several weeks, and while the outcomes do not seem to ever change, SCP-049 continues to claim that it is growing closer to its perfect cure. I think the entity may be more aware of the reality of these outcomes than it would like us to think.
(Stopping so ya can read)
Ooooo
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rococo-rondo · 9 months
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I try not to listen to transphobes simply because it makes me so angry but the thing I’ve come to learn is that nothing they say is true. I mean, I already knew that, but hearing the kinds of blatant, nasty lies these people come up with is just disgusting and disheartening.
I think some transphobes know this and use their lies to their advantage while others genuinely believe what they’re saying is true. These are both dangerous mindsets. They’re effectively brainwashing people into hating trans people for no reason. In a perfect world, there should be no “on the fence” when it comes to bigotry. Unfortunately, I think that’s where a lot of people’s views of trans people lie. All it takes is one little push.
One argument I’ve heard too many times is that trans people are going against “God’s plan” for them. That it’s a sin to alter yourself because God made you exactly how you’re supposed to be. Changing your gender is just as good as forsaking God and that’s the ultimate sin. But how do transphobes know what God’s plan for everyone is? Do they have a divine to-do list? Can they read God’s mind?
Nobody plans on getting cancer or having their home destroyed by a natural disaster. But when it happens, people always attribute it to God’s plan. That God works in mysterious ways. But as soon as someone realizes they’re gay or trans (which is a GOOD thing, by the way), that CAN’T be God’s plan for them. How do you know? According to you, God tests us all with challenges in life. Is being trans not a challenge? You’re certainly making it one for a lot of people. Or is it a punishment? If so, a punishment for what?
It’s the same kind of backwards logic used to arrest someone for resisting arrest. It’s not as if people just decide that they’re trans on a whim. It’s how they’re born. It’s how God created them. So by blocking gender-affirming care and supporting conversion therapy, who’s really the one going against God’s plan? It’s just so hypocritical and brainless. Though sadly, using religion as a vehicle of hatred is probably not going away anytime soon.
When one’s entire ideology is based on “what if?” they fall blind to the reality that’s unfolding right in front of them. The reality that they are a pathetic, weak human being who thrives off of nothing but lies, bitterness, and vitriol. Nobody likes transphobes. Not even other transphobes. They may feel a sense of belonging among other transphobes because someone finally agrees with their abhorrent opinions, but I’ll bet no transphobe can ever truly experience the joys of friendship or camaraderie. Because when the clouds of hatred block out all the love the world has to offer, you’re unable to feel its warmth, be enveloped by it, and share that love with those around you.
I know all of this has been said before but I genuinely can’t imagine being like that. What happened in their lives to make them this way? Oftentimes, nothing at all. They’ve faced no hardships, no pushback, no fighting for survival. So why be transphobic? Honestly, I don’t know why. My brain just isn’t wired for bigotry, I guess. But there’s one thing I do know. Transphobia is evil, plain and simple. There’s no better word to describe it. Transphobes have chosen the path of evil. Their hate was never, is never, and will never be justified.
So to all my trans friends out there, stay safe, stay happy, and I love you all!!! 🧡🧡🧡
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