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#The bit with the pillar was my own idea
kettouryuujin · 2 years
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Nobility AU - Mai
[Inspired by @monsoon-of-art's Pokérus AU and @jade-nargacuga's Pokérus: Ghosts]
Warden Mai stared at her charge, blinking - and wobbling a bit, given her weakening legs. “You… want me to walk with you?”
*Snort* “Wyr.”
“...alright then… I…guess we’ll get going.” A sigh as the pair started off from the middle of the Fieldlands. The Diamond Clan member wasn’t sure why her Lord had called her here. Something about a sacrifice to Sinnoh, for power to protect her Clan and loved ones?
If there was any time Mai disliked how her Lord rarely used his psychic powers to talk with her, this would be it. She couldn’t tell if he was just being cryptic or if he was struggling with what to say!
Well. If the Lord of the Hills wanted her to go on one last walk before her legs became Crobat wings, then who was she to stop him?
—-
As they trekked into the Mirelands, the Warden couldn’t shake the feeling something was off. She’d been going for quite a ways, and yet her legs weren’t giving out the way a future wing would. If anything, they felt a bit heavier…and stronger! The opposite of how they’d been changing before!
But when she looked down to check, they looked just as purple-tinted and thin as she’d started the walk with. It was… honestly quite the inconsistency. Was her Lord playing a trick on her?
No. When she looked up to check, the Wyrdeer’s orbs weren’t glowing - meaning he wasn’t using any illusions. Maybe she was just getting her hopes up… well, if doing so made this trek more enjoyable, then so be it.
—-
Approaching the “hand” of the lower Coastlands, the pair stopped to take a breather. Thankfully, Mai had brought some water with her on their trek - something both Noble and Warden appreciated. Still, was it her, or did the Noble seem slightly…smaller? No, everything seemed a bit smaller. How strange.
The Lord still wasn’t using any illusions, but…something still felt off about this whole thing. She just couldn’t put a finger on exactly why. She had no doubt that her Noble had the best interests in mind, however, and soon they set off once more.
As Firespit Island came into view, happy barking could be heard across the plateau. Sounds like that Pearl Clan warden finally wised up…
But as they crested the slope, the sights didn’t quite match the sounds. For one, she could still see the young Growlithe there, playing with a larger - and slightly clumsy - Arcanine. A sibling? No, the Arcanine was female. To her knowledge, there weren’t any female Growlithes that had been deemed worthy of succession. And over there, in the water - since when did Lord Basculegion have a blue stripe? For that matter, why would a male Basculegion have a blue stripe? Weren’t they supposed to be pink?
Before she could ponder this more, a nudge from the side sent her stumbling. “Deer.” Apparently, the Lord of the Hills wanted them to get moving once more. So with a sigh, Mai continued on her trek - thinking about what she’d seen the whole way through.
—-
They continued into the Icelands, the low temperatures making Wyrdeer’s Warden shiver. Ugh, how could those Pearl Clan people survive this? Even Sabi had to wear so many layers to do her job here.
Then again, maybe she remembered the temperature being worse than it was? The persistent shivering wasn’t quite as bad as she was recalled, even though her coat felt taut against her.
…taut? That wasn't right. She had to shrink to become a Crobat, not grow… maybe her size was just further down the line? Possible, but as Mai looked to her Lord’s softly glowing orbs and recalled the path they’d taken so far, she was starting to suspect something else was going on.
—-
They did not enter Jubilife Village - Showing there, even slightly changed, would only end poorly with the prejudices those people had. Instead, they wrapped around, past the Fieldlands border and into the Highlands of Mt. Coronet.
Climbing the treacherous cliffs was difficult enough without the aid of Lady Sneasaler, but Lord Wyrdeer led one nevertheless. Mai did her best to follow, stepping with the utmost caution.
For most of the way, she held firm. For most of the way, she was able to slowly follow the Wyrdeer’s measured pace. For most of the way, when he looked back Mai was still there, if not unsteady.
For most of the way, her legs didn’t give out from under her.
—-
Crying out as she fell, Mai tried her best to grab onto something - anything - but it was like it was all out of reach! A tear came to her eye - was this the end? Passing whilst following the Lord of the Hills on a trek along his Trial route?
Well… it was far from the worst way to go, at least.
“WYR!” Uff! Or maybe her Lord could catch her in Extrasensory…that worked too.
As she was gently lowered down, Mai looked at her legs… and winced. They were both bending at a rather odd angle, yet the sharp pain of broken bones wasn’t there. Instead, it was a dull ache - a weaker version of the pain she’d been used to.
Once she was on the ground, she grunted, trying to stand…and failing. Of course. “...Lord Wyrdeer… what are you doing?”
The Lord blinked, then sighed as his orbs ceased their glow. As the light faded, the Warden saw a small white muzzle in her field of view, her nose brown and engorged. Looking down, she saw the fingers of each hand shrinking away into her tan wrists - all but one, which was extending and darkening.
“...Are you…bringing me into your herd? Why?” This was…a peculiar action for any Lord to take. Then again, turning into a Pokémon was peculiar to begin with.
The Lord just approached, a sad look in his eyes as he nuzzled his changing Warden. Sensations of fear pulsed through her mind, followed by an urge to protect. “You… you think I’ll be safer like this?”
Affirmation. “But…it still leaves me a Pokémon, not a human…” Irrelevance. “It’s for something else?” Affirmation once more. “...me becoming a Stantler… lets you protect me, huh?” The Lord let out an amused chuff and backed away. The soon-to-be-ex-human sighed, slowly getting onto four pseudo-hooves. “Well… I suppose if this is how the Lord of the Woods wishes to protect a member of his Clan, who am I to deny him?”
The said Lord looked a bit startled but nodded, turning around. The pair had fortuitously landed back in the Fieldlands, and Deertrack Heights was not far away.
—-
As the Wyrdeer and changing Stantler climbed up the heights, Mai found each step easier and easier to take. It was almost as if her changing body was guiding her along, sprouting instincts ensuring that each brown-ringed hoof landed safely and securely. A welcome change from her slow, unstable walk through the Highlands.
Her mind turned back to the Coastlands - specifically, the Lord and Lady there. Perhaps she was mistaken, and those weren’t the actual Nobles? Lord Growlithe would surely have done something like this to protect his Warden, doting as she was. And she could see the oddly-colored Basculegion as being Iscan, fully changed by his Lord for the same reason Wyrdeer was changing her.
Eventually, they reached the summit, where a familiar pillar of stone had been erected. Once the future Lord of the Hills had trekked to all corners of Hisui, he would come to the top of Deertrack Heights. Once there, he would use his Psyshield Bash to topple the pillar, signifying the completion of the Trial and triggering the new Lord’s evolution. And the first thing the new Lord would do with his Warden was to gather up rocks to make a new pillar, which would stay until the next Trial of the Hills.
The Warden couldn’t help but smile upon seeing the pillar that she and Lord Wyrdeer had years ago. However, the Lord apparently had different ideas as he took position behind and to the side of the pillar. “Er.”
Blinkblink. “W-what is it? You don’t expect me to knock the pillar over, do you?”
“Deer. Wyr-de.” A sensation of consternation.
“You…do? Why? We need it for the next Trial-”
“DEER.” Annoyance and irritation, spiked with a bit of fear.
“...ok then… I…suppose it’s symbolic or something…” Mai sighed, shaking her head - thankfully, her antlers had grown in. Brow furrowed in concentration, she could feel power pooling in her mind, flowing into the twin orbs she now carried.
With a flash, a cloak of energy formed around the almost-Stantler. Not willing to open her eyes and risk losing focus, she charged into the pillar with a *wham!*.
Impact banished the veil of psychic power as the “Warden” (eh? Why the quotes?) was sent flying back, landing near the summit’s edge.
“Er.” Again? A-alright, she’d go again… Getting her limbs under her, Mai stood, concentrating once more. Again, she charged, the field bursting upon impact. 
This time, however, she only skidded back a few feet. Opening her eyes, she saw a sizable crack in the pillar. “Umm… right, this is enough rig-”
“ER.” Message received…did her Lord want her to take the whole Trial of the Hills? 
“Finally…” Hrm? That…sounded like the Lord, but a bit younger? Ah, no time to dwell on that. She had a Trial to complete.
Closing her eyes once more, she felt the now-familiar crackle of the psychic veil form around her. Taking a deep breath, the cervid centered herself, focusing on the pillar - specifically, toppling it in this blow.
“WYR!” *CRACK!* Indeed, with one final Bash, the pillar had fallen. Opening her eyes, the changed “Warden” (again?) looked at the shattered pillar. It was done… although she wasn’t sure where to get stone for a new pillar.
Wait, wouldn’t the Lady - no, the Lady - the… “What in Sinnoh’s name is going on here!”
“Ler!” Mai’s planned tirade was discarded as the familiar sound of a startled Stantler struck her ears. Turning to face the source, she found what was definitely a spooked Stantler - but he was in the same place her “Lo-”...ugh. Where Wyrdeer was standing earlier. Well, worry later. Comfort now.
Bending down (why was she bigger?), the new Pokémon nuzzled the more experienced one. “I’m sorry for startling you…”
“I-it’s fine…” It took Mai one moment to realize ‘Oh yeah, I can understand other Pokémon now.' Then another to note that the voice was surprisingly young-sounding for the weight it carried. “I wasn’t used to hearing a Lord or Lady’s yells as a Stantler.”
…What.
As she locked up, trying to process what those words could mean, the smaller deer gave the key to the code. “I must say, though, y-you make for a stunning Lady of the Hills, miss Mai.”
A nervous laugh. “N-no, you have it wrong…” But if he had it wrong, then why did that feel so…right? Oh, and she sure sounded like she didn’t believe the younger ‘mon’s word’s either.
So instead, she just looked down at her hooves. The sight of white fur where there had been brown made her backpedal a bit more, stopping just before the cliff edge. Looking back, she was greeted by the familiar light gray of a Wyrdeer’s body, with a snow-white tail at the end.
As the new Lady’s jaw worked in shock, the Stantler - the former Lord - sat. “I-it was the only way to make sure you’d be safe from the things to come, m-ma’am.” Oh, she’d forgotten how much of a scaredy-cat the ex-Lord was before his Trial…and it seems like those old habits had made a comeback.
Welp. Time to woman up and take the lead. “A-alright. I assume the other Nobles are taking similar action?”
“Y-yes’m. We’ve been blessed by Arceus, Dialga, and Palkia to perform these modified Rites.”
“...Who, who, and who?” Blink and head-tilt.
“Ah. Erm… we can talk about them while we get some new stone for your pillar. C’mon.” The now-a-Stantler began descending from the Heights, his old personality at odds with his (ex-)Noble knowledge and experience. With a shrug, Lady Mai followed. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too dramatic a discussion… she didn’t want to startle the young one any further.
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serpentandlily · 2 months
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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader
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Lost in a Labyrinth Part II - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 
Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute, uncomfortable situations (nothing extreme)
a/n: thanks for all the love on the first part! Hope y'all like this one just as much!
➻❥ Part I
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Part II
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
“You look well rested.”
Cashmere winked at you from her seat in front of her vanity. She was brushing out her long hair, getting ready for the evening. You let out a sigh and plopped down at your own vanity in the dressing room. 
“I am,” you replied. “Someone bought out all my nights this month but no one’s shown up. It’s…strange, don’t you think?”
Cashmere shrugged, going back to looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Seems to me like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”
You began putting on your makeup for the night, not that you’d have any clients. But you were still expected to be in the Courtyard for a bit. “Secret, maybe, but they're definitely not an admirer. If they were, why wouldn’t they come get what they paid for?”
“Some of these Lords just throw their money around to impress us. I wouldn’t think too much about it, Serenity,” Cashmere said. You fought the urge to cringe at the fake name. “Consider it a vacation of sorts.” 
“Until Lydia finds out,” you snorted. “Then she’ll probably double book me.” 
“Just rub some kohl under your eyes,” Cashmere suggested. “Make it look like you’re still having sleepless nights like the rest of us.” 
“Not a bad idea.”
More girls walked in and you fell silent. Telling Cashmere about your current situation was one thing. You trusted her as a friend. But some of the other girls would likely pass on the information to Lydia and that’s the last thing you wanted. 
You finished your makeup before shrugging on a new lingerie set with a dark pink silk robe over it. You followed the girls to the Courtyard, ready to perform your nightly duties so you could retire back to your room for another peaceful night alone thanks to your mysterious donor. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Your vacation was short lived because the next day, Keir showed up and requested sixteen specific girls, your name included, for a party that was being hosted in Hewn City with some elite nobles. Even the High Lord and Lady would be present apparently. Not that you’d be allowed to approach them. Every time you worked these kinds of events, all the girls were given strict instructions on how to dress, what to wear, and what Lords to entertain. 
A dress was waiting for you in the dressing room. It was a long black dress that fell to the floor with two slits on the side to show off your legs. It was backless with a few thin straps that criss crossed on your lower back. Sitting beneath it was a pair of silver heels and on your vanity sat a matching silver jewelry set. 
You had to forgo your bra for the dress, likely the reason it was chosen. You did a sultry smokey eye and dark red lip for your makeup before you pinned your hair into a pretty updo to show off the back of the dress. 
By the time you were finished getting ready, the other girls were too. It wasn’t long before you were being led into the throne room. During parties like this, only the elite and those invited had access to this room in the castle. 
The ebony floors were polished, the carved pillars spanning so high you could hardly see where they connected to the ceiling. Various nobles mingled together, sitting on settees, smoking cigars, with glasses of wine and whiskey in their hands. 
The High Lord and Lady sat on their thrones on top of the dais at the front of the expansive room, dressed finely in all black with their crowns on their heads. Standing next to the High Lord was the General, the big, brutish Illyrian. Next to the High Lady stood the Shadowsinger, his eyes scanning the room. You’d seen the Shadowsinger plenty of times during the occasional trips your High Lord and Lady made to Hewn City. But that night he had walked through your doors in The Labyrinth, you had been taken aback by how beautiful he was. 
Memories of your night with him flashed through your head and you tried to fight off the blush and heat that started coursing through your body. Azriel had been a generous lover. Far more generous than your other clients, that’s for sure. He had actually cared about your pleasure. Not to mention he was the hottest male to walk through your doors.
It was a pity that he had disappeared so quickly and never returned.
“Alright, girls, you know what to do,” Lydia hissed at the group of you. “Do not embarrass me. Anyone who steps out of line will receive a new mark.” 
That was the last thing you wanted to do. You looked down at your hand, at the small tattoo on the inside of your ring finger. You only had two more marks left. Two marks and then freedom would be yours. 
You started mingling with the various Lords, pretending to eagerly listen to them brag about the most mundane things like their latest hunt or new investments. Servants meandered around, filling wine and whiskey glasses. 
When you were younger, you had accepted them like most of the other girls. Having a little alcohol in you always made the night easier. But you were going to steer clear of it—not wanting to jeopardize your progress with Lord Keir and Lydia. 
You started making your way towards the front of the room. You had to steer clear of the High Lord and Lady but the wealthier and more important males always sat near the front. And if you caught the attention of someone Keir wanted gone, that would be just an extra bonus to the money you’d be making off them. 
You were used to eyes trailing after you everywhere you went, but something else was tugging on your senses, making you feel not like you were being ogled at like always but watched. 
Your eyes darted around until they landed on a familiar pair of hazel ones. Azriel hadn’t moved a single step from his post but his eyes were on you. Your steps faltered for a second, taken aback by how intense his stare was. 
Was he scared that you would out him? Address him in front of his High Lord? He should know that you couldn’t. The same way he couldn’t mention anything that took place in the Labyrinth. 
Your name being called shook you from your thoughts. 
Your attention was pulled to a handsome male with long, white hair that matched his equally pale skin. Lord Thanatos’s golden eyes were running up and down your body as he sat sprawled in an armchair like it was the High Lord’s throne. He beckoned you to him with two fingers. 
Your heart dropped to your stomach as you had no other choice but to go to him. He was your least favorite client but he had a weird obsession with you. It was rare for him to choose any other girl in The Labyrinth besides you. You gave him a seductive smile, slipping into your role for the night. “How may I help you, my Lord?”
You let out a small gasp as he latched onto your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. The Lords around him all snickered. He brushed your hair to one side before whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be helping me a lot tonight, sweetheart.” 
Your insides shriveled up. Lord Thanatos was your least favorite client because of how rough he was with you. But he paid a lot of money so Lydia and the guards often looked the other way, only sending a healer into your room once he left. 
“I’m looking forward to it, my Lord,” you purred, resting a hand on his chest. You weren’t, of course. Not even because of the pain he’d inflict on you but more so because Lord Thanatos was Keir’s secondhand man and closest confidant. Which meant those two lines tattooed on your finger would still be there when you woke up tomorrow morning. 
Lord Thanatos went back to chatting with the various nobles seated on the couches and settees around him. If it wasn’t for his wandering hands on your body, you would’ve thought he was ignoring you. His hardening cock that was pressing into your backside had you shifting as much as you could to his thigh. You glanced around the room only to find Azriel’s eyes still on you. His fists were clenched, his face frozen with a hint of anger. Anger and something else that seemed suspiciously like longing. 
You shifted again in Lord Thanatos’s lap for an entirely different reason now. 
Cashmere happened to be walking by when Lord Thanatos grabbed onto her wrist and yanked her down to sit on his other thigh, forcing the two of you to share the small space. 
She giggled. “Two of us? Don’t tell me you’re getting greedy, my Lord.” 
You exchanged a small look with her. It didn’t happen often but sometimes clients wanted to take two girls at once. You preferred when you were chosen along with Cashmere, because you two were close friends which made it less awkward. 
“I think Serenity wants someone to play with,” he smirked, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 
“Anything for you, my Lord,” you smiled. “You know how much I love to please you.” 
He leaned back in his chair and tossed his arms behind his head like he commanded the room. “Go on then. Kiss.” 
You glanced at Cashmere who gave you a dip of the head so you reached forward and hooked some of her ginger hair behind her pointed ear before kissing her lightly. She tasted like cherry wine. You pulled back after a second and for some reason, your eyes caught Azriel’s. He was closer now, leaning on a pillar, wreathed in shadows—watching. He twirled his dagger in his hand with ease. 
“Oh come on, Serenity. Don’t play coy,” Thanatos laughed. “I know that mouth can do better than that.” 
Cashmere grabbed your face lightly, her eyes shining with a look that urged you on. You kissed her properly this time, caressing her face. This time the two of you gave the Lord what he wanted. But you could feel Azriel’s overwhelming stare still on you. 
It wasn’t until your lips were swollen and you were panting that you finally let up. You could feel your lipstick smeared all over and wiped it with your hand. 
“Oh, she’s made such a mess of me, my Lord,” you pouted. “Will you excuse me so I can fix myself up?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Cashmere closer to him. “But don’t keep us waiting.” 
“Of course,” you said with a nod, rising from his lap. 
When you glanced at the pillar Azriel had been leaning on, he was still staring. It was a bit unnerving. You let out a shaky breath and quickly hurried out of the throne room and into one of the bathing chambers down the corridor. You rested your hands on the edge of the sink, staring down at the basin. You just needed a breather. Just a second to collect yourself. 
Not a moment later, you felt a prickling sensation on your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your head shot up and you left out a gasp as your eyes met a pair of hazel ones in your reflection. 
Azriel stood behind you, his shadows swarming him. 
You whirled around, backing into the sink. 
“What are you doing here!” 
Azriel took a step forward, out of the darkness. 
“You shouldn’t be here,” he stated in a low voice that had goosebumps rising on your skin. 
You crossed your arms, staring up at him entirely confused both by his appearance in the bathroom of all places and his remark. “Shouldn’t be where? In the bathroom?”
“No,” he growled, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, at this party.”
“What do you mean? You know what I am. We were hired—” You cut yourself off as you had a realization. “It was you, wasn’t it? The one who booked up all my nights?” 
Azriel said nothing, gave no reaction other than his large wings twitching. You swallowed thickly and turned back around, away from his daunting stare, finding it easier to stare at him through the reflection on the mirror. You summoned your small clutch with some magic before pulling out your tube of lipstick. 
“Look, Azriel,” you began, starting to apply your lipstick. “You’re not the first male to feel ashamed after sleeping with me. If you’re doing this to absolve yourself from whatever guilt you have, consider it forgiven.”
Azriel stepped closer, his face darkening. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood my actions. I do not feel ashamed because I slept with you, angel. I’m ashamed that I made you sleep with me.” 
You shoved your lipstick back in your purse, turning around to face him. “You didn’t make me do anything. I knew what this job entailed when I signed up for it, okay?”
“But is it…is it what you want?” 
You shrugged your shoulders. “I can’t say it’s been a dream of mine. But it's a hell of a lot better than being sold off to some male and having all my freedoms taken away.”
Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it. “Those shouldn’t be your only two choices.”
“Well, take that up with our High Lord, Azriel, I don’t know what to tell you,” you sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my client is waiting—”
You went to brush past Azriel to the door but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“Don’t,” he breathed, “Don’t go. I know you don’t want to be with him. I could see it in your eyes.”
“I don’t have a choice, Azriel,” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free. “So let me go.” 
“Sounds like you’ve already had all your freedoms taken away,” he bit back, his grip unrelenting. 
“You know nothing,” you argued. “If this is the one thing I have to sacrifice to keep all my other ones, then so be it. Besides, I’m almost—”
You cut yourself off, cursing in your head at your slip-up. No one could know about the deals the girls at The Labyrinth had with Keir. If word got out because of you…
“Almost what? What were you going to say?”
Azriel’s eyes were pleading with you, like he was hanging off every word that came out of your mouth. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. “Nothing. Nothing, forget it. Now, please let me go. You’re going to get me in trouble with Lydia.” 
You tried to leave again but Azriel pulled you back. “I can’t stand to see you look so miserable with him. Please, let me help you. I paid for you tonight; I’ll go tell Lydia that I’m taking you back to the—”
“She won’t care. She’s just going to give you your money back,” you cut in. “Lord Thanatos pays a lot of money to have me. More than whatever you gave her.” 
“Then I’ll pay twice as much as him,” Azriel stressed. “Or whatever I have to in order to make sure he doesn’t end up in your bed tonight.” 
“I take my orders from Lydia. What she says goes.” 
“Fine, give me five minutes,” Azriel said with heavy resolve. “Just avoid him for now and I’ll sort it out.” 
You looked at him closely. “Why do you care?” 
“Don’t…don’t ask me that,” Azriel murmured before he disappeared in a whirl of shadows, leaving you stunned and confused. 
You left the bathroom finally, making your way back to the throne room. Your mind was screaming at you to go back to Lord Thanatos before you got in major trouble, but something else in you wanted to listen to Azriel. You had no idea why. You grabbed a champagne flute off a tray from a server and made yourself look busy near a pillar that concealed you from Lord Thanatos’s view. 
Five minutes passed and you were beginning to lose faith in Azriel, resigning yourself to the night with Thanatos when he stepped out of the shadows behind you. You let out a gasp of fright, spilling your full glass of champagne. Azriel grabbed the empty glass from your hand and set it on a table before taking your hand in his and guiding you away from the pillar. 
“I sorted it out,” he whispered under his breath to you. “But Lydia seemed…suspicious of my interest in you.”
“What do you mean?” You hissed back.
“She’s wary of you being a spy for the High Lord,” Azriel answered, quickly. 
You held back a laugh at that. “Then I guess we’ll have to make her think you’re interested in me for…other reasons.”
Azriel stopped and pulled you close to him, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t get me wrong, angel. I am interested in you for all those other reasons, too.” 
A chill skittered down your spine and you looked up at him with a coy smile. “Good, that’ll make this easier than.” 
“Make what easier?”
“The show we’re going to put on for her,” you whispered.
Azriel’s cheeks turned a bit pink and you just knew you were going to have fun with him. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Azriel found an armchair next to some empty couches in clearsight of Lydia and sat down, spreading his legs apart in invitation and patting his thigh. His face was unreadable as you sat in his lap, tossing an arm around his neck and throwing your legs over his thigh, leaving them to dangle. He placed an arm around your waist, his hand lying flat on your stomach, and pulled you closer to him. 
Azriel leaned in, whispering, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“You won’t,” you replied, honestly. 
His eyes searched yours for a second before he nodded. You placed a hand on his chest, running your fingers over his leathers. “Aren’t these a little constricting?” 
His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “I’m used to them.” 
You hummed, your eyes darting towards Lydia to see her watching the two of you. “Well, I much prefer you out of them, shadowsinger.” 
Your words had their desired effect. Azriel’s chest rumbled with a quiet growl, his hand caressing your waist. You giggled, pressing a few kisses to his jaw. His scent of cedar and night-chilled mist seemed to envelope you. He gripped your dress in his fist, his entire body tense. 
“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered, lowly. “Anything.” 
“What do you want to know?” 
Azriel nudged his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His breath ghosted over your skin, causing goosebumps to spread. “Something real.”
You were never very forthcoming with your clients, always keeping your personal details secret and making up stories and lies to feed their curiosity. But something made you not want to lie to Azriel. 
“My name is Y/n,” you started, shifting closer to him so no one else could overhear anything said. His hand that was on your waist slipped to the exposed skin on your back, his fingers lazily trailing up and down. “I was born to a low-ranking noble and his bitch of a wife, my mother. I was going to be sold off like cattle to some Lord who had already gone through three wives—you can guess what happened to them—but my friend, the one you saw me with earlier, helped me escape.” 
Azriel’s grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against his hard chest. You melted into the heat of his body, the thin dress you had on did nothing to keep you warm. The hand that was on your back slipped to your thigh, parting your skirt so he could touch your smooth skin. Your heart jumped in your chest.
“Tell me their names,” Azriel growled into your ear. “Tell me their names and consider them gone.” 
You laughed, darkly, twisting your arm around his neck to stroke the hairs at his nape. “No need for that. They’ve been…taken care of.” 
Azriel’s other hand drifted up to your throat, grasping it lightly and tilting your head back so he could pepper his own kisses along your jaw and neck. Your breath hitched and you found yourself grinding down on him, gasping as you felt his hardening cock. Suddenly, none of this was pretend. Had it even been pretend in the first place? No…no, it hadn’t. You had been burning and burning for him since the night he had stepped into your room. 
“I’m sorry—” 
You turned to look at him and kissed him firmly before he could finish his sentence. He groaned as your lips met his and you pulled away entirely too soon, lingering only centimeters away. 
“I’m not,” you purred.
Whatever resolve Azriel seemed to have, whatever dignity of yours he was trying to preserve, all of it was forgotten in the moment. He lurched forward and kissed you again, his hand on your throat angling your head to his liking—the rings on his fingers were cold against your heated skin. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips, at the taste of him. 
His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you gave into the subtle request, parting your lips for him and deepening the kiss. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your thigh slipped dangerously close to the place between your legs that seemed to be begging for him. You’d never been so turned on in your life. The thrill of knowing eyes were on you and the feeling of Azriel consuming you caused your brain to numb all thoughts. 
His hand on your throat slipped down your side, his knuckles running along the side of your breast. You arched into his touch with a mewl and he answered with a small huff, his wings twitching. Meanwhile his tongue was still exploring every inch of your mouth, claiming you in a way that had you throbbing in his lap. 
Azriel pulled away, leaving you panting for air as he began to trail kisses down your jaw and neck again. His wandering hand landed flat against your stomach, pushing you farther into him until you were flush against his body, your legs falling open to either side of his thigh. Your half-opened eyes darted around the room. 
It seems Lydia had lost interest in the two of you but another set of eyes were on you. 
“The High Lord’s watching,” you murmured as he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth. 
“I don’t care,” Azriel growled, his mouth moving to nibble on the delicate skin of your throat.
“He’s not going to get mad that you're allowing yourself to be seen with Hewn City scum?” 
“Fuck him,” he snarled, biting down on your skin and causing you to gasp. He soothed the mark with his tongue before kissing his way up to your mouth again. “Stop talking about another male while you're sitting in my lap.” 
“Yes, sir,” you smirked before he kissed you again, his hips thrusting up into your backside. You groaned, your core rubbing against his thigh with his movement and causing a strike of lightning to flash through your body. The need for him was overwhelming. You’d never felt this way towards anyone. 
His hand drifted higher on your thigh, until his thumb traced the inner junction between your thigh and hip and felt the wetness that had started to spread there. A small whine came from the back of his throat that had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. You pulled away from his kiss to stare up at him with lust filled eyes, his own full of hunger and craving. 
“Azriel?”
“Yes, angel?” 
“Get us out of here.” 
Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. His shadows engulfed the two of you and transported you to your room in The Labyrinth. You were on your knees before him not even a second later, overcome with the need to taste him, to touch him, to devour him whole. You pulled at the laces on his pants, your fingers working quickly. Azriel’s hand slipped into your hair, fisting your locks in between his fingers. 
“Angel, you don’t have to—”
“Azriel,” you cut him off, staring up at him with hazy eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” 
Before he could reply, you yanked his pants down causing his large member to spring up, already hard and leaking. You nearly groaned at the sight. He was so big, so big and thick. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the head of his cock and he hissed, his fists tightening in your hair. 
You stared up at him as you took his cock in your hand and licked up his entire length. He let out a loud moan, tossing his head back at the pleasure. You smiled at the sight, your other hand sliding down your body between your legs, hoping to relieve some of the throbbing.
But Azriel growled and yanked your head back.
“Don’t you dare touch yourself,” Azriel commanded. “Only I get to touch you there.” 
If it had been any other male saying those words, you would’ve laughed in their face. But it coming out of Azriel’s mouth only made your throbbing intensify. You whined, but listened, grasping his cock with both hands and finally taking him in your mouth. 
“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, guiding your movement with his hand in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” 
Your thighs rubbed together at his praise and you continued to bob your head back and forth, swirling your tongue under his cock and running it along his veins. His hips began to thrust in time with your movement, his hand guiding you to take more and more of him in your mouth until he was fucking your face. 
“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth. “Good girl.” 
You choked, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Normally you would hate a client treating you like this but with Azriel it felt different. Maybe because his rough taking of you was coupled with small words of praise and encouragement, urging you on.
“Just like that,” he groaned. “Fuck, angel, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock.” 
You whimpered, taking more of him until his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Your hands jerked the part of him you couldn’t take because of his unbelievable size. His groans and growls kept you going, kept the fire between your thighs burning. You needed him more than you needed air. 
Azriel yanked you away from his cock by your hair and you whined at the loss of contact. He pulled you up off the floor, his eyes nearly black with lust. “Take off your dress,” he ordered. 
You maintained eye contact with him as you quickly stripped yourself before him. The air around the two of you was intense, the need for one another so tangible. In this moment, you weren’t Serenity, the prostitute who worked here. But Y/n. The girl underneath the mask. 
“Get on the bed,” he demanded. “On your knees.” 
You scurried to the bed, doing as he asked. You were entirely exposed to him in this position, your arousal dripping down your leg. You could hear him taking off the rest of his leathers and waiting in anticipation until his hands fell on your hips, rubbing them softly. 
“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, one hand trailing up your back and gently moving your hair to one side so he could see your face. His cock rubbed against your folds, gathering your wetness. “Fuck and so ready for me.” 
“Azriel, please,” you begged. You could feel yourself gripping around nothing, needing to be filled by him and him only. 
“One day, I’m going to worship your entire body,” he grunted. “But I need you, angel. I need you right now.” 
“Please,” you begged again. “Take me. I’m yours.” 
Azriel slammed into you so quickly, it knocked the breath from your lungs. You moaned at the feel of him, at being stretched so thoroughly. He waited a moment, his breathing labored, allowing you to adjust before he slid back out and roughly thrust back in. 
“Say it again,” he growled, taking a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over again. 
You whimpered, “I’m yours.” 
“Again,” he snarled, his pounding into you causing the whole bed to shake. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intense pleasure. Your whole body was tingling at his touch, at his words. “I’m yours, Azriel. I’m yours.” 
One hand stayed on your hip to help keep you in place while the other slithered up your back and into your hair, fisting it again. He pulled your head back, exposing your neck as he drilled into you. Your back arched as you cried out at the feeling. You had already been so turned on, your orgasm was quickly building. 
“More,” you groaned. “More, Azriel, please.”
He growled and yanked you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. The new angle felt deeper, his cock brutally hitting you in that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. His hand traveled from your waist to your breasts, squeezing and caressing them. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body arched into his touch. 
He released your hair to rub circles on your clit, leaving you both breathless and screaming. 
Your body was entirely his in this moment. He controlled every ounce of your pleasure, every cry that came from your lips. You had never reveled in giving yourself up like this before. Not until Azriel came. 
“Azriel…I’m gonna….I’m gonna,” you panted, the lewd noise of skin smacking together the only other sound in the room.  
“Be a good girl and cum for me angel,” he whispered, huskily, in your ear. 
His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm slammed into you. Your entire body clenched around him as waves and waves of pleasure crested through you. Your vision went white hot with it. Azriel’s name fell from your lips like a Devil’s prayer. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, fucking you through your orgasm. Until you finally came down from your high, your body slumping in his hold. He let you fall to the soft bed, your face smashing against the cushions as he held you up by your hips. His rhythm became desperate, feral until he finally came, burying himself in you with a loud growl. 
You were both still panting as he slid out of you with a hiss and fell to the bed next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled your body on top of his, letting his wings stretch out. You laid a cheek on his chest, feeling safe as he wrapped both arms around you. 
“Don’t leave this time,” you whispered. 
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I won’t.”
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Three days later, you were sitting in Lydia’s office, your nightgown covered in blood, a numb look on your face. Keir was standing before you, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed as he sneered down at you. 
The burning on your ring finger was lingering, one of the tally marks gone. 
“Lydia tells me that the shadowsinger has taken a special interest in you,” Keir said, stroking his jaw. Your eyes remained distant, staring past him to the wall. 
The blood was still warm on your skin and you knew the body lying in your bed hadn’t even stiffened. You knew better than to talk during these meetings, allowing Keir and Lydia to converse with each other while you sat there. 
“Show me your hand,” Keir ordered. 
You lifted your arm, holding it outstretched to him. He took it, twisting it to see your ring finger.
“She only has one mark left, my Lord,” Lydia added from behind her desk. 
“I see that,” Keir said, letting your hand drop. “Your last target is the shadowsinger. Kill him and you will have completed our bargain and will be free to go.” 
Your heart dropped into your stomach, your eyes going wide as you finally looked at the male standing above you. “W-what?” 
“You heard me, girl,” he snarled. “Kill the shadowsinger and you’re free to go.”
Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. 
Keir’s words played in your head over and over again as you made your way to the bathing chambers to finally wash the blood of your latest target off you. 
Kill Azriel and you’d finally be free to leave this place. Finally free to take all the money you’d been saving up and leave this damned court to build a new life for yourself. The dream you’d had all along. Kill Azriel and your dream of being free would finally come true. 
Kill Azriel.   
Kill Azriel or…don’t and end up stuck here, lost in The Labyrinth forever. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
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lynaferns · 6 months
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I'm seeing a lot of people saying stuff like
"it makes me sad that he's mean :(" "I'm scared that my au is not accurate anymore" or "I got my interpretation of him wrong"
And I think you should put this new information about the DCA at a side for a moment, go talk to friends and info dump about your original AUs and ideas, brighten up a little bit that spark that makes you create your art and just have fun talking about it. Because the fact that he's sassy in one game doesn't mean that that's the only trait to his personality now.
He can be mean, he can be anxious, short tempered, good intended, caring, dramatic, a little bitch, a cinnamon roll... He can be all the things you can come up with, in this fandom he's always been all of the above and more in different ways, in different stories. And you can still write him the way you want, people can still interpret him the way they want, don't let canon or other people or your own thoughts stop you from creating your AUs.
Instead use it to get inspired, get new ideas and create new stories. They turned the tables, you can turn them back up. He can be mean because of the virus but get softer to you with time, you can make a story about self-confidence and worth, he can hate and love his job simultaneously for different reasons.
The AUs where he's soft and caring are still going to be there, the fics where he's good with kids and patient are still going to get written. Keep writing those fics, don't stop just because canon says otherwise. I stopped writing my steampunk AU when the mimic was revealed to be burntrap and not Afton because "it wasn't canon anymore so my AU is not accurate anymore" and I'm still with that thorn stuck in the back of my head for not continuing writing even if it wasn't canon accurate anymore. Because I actually got excited about writing that AU but for the way my brain see things "if it wasn't canon accurate it wasn't worth it" and let me tell you that's a shit of mentality.
So please
Please please please please
Don't give up on your stories and creativity like that.
The immense variety of characterizations and AUs is one of the pillars of this community and one of the coolest things. The fact that you can come up with any concept for these two dorks and make it an investing story and you have a whole catalog to choose from what you're going to see next. Don't let that stop.
I love this community even if I don't understand it sometimes and I barely interact, I love seeing people having fun making their AUs, going nuts making fanarts and gifting art to each other just because it makes them happy.
Don't let this limit you.
Now I don't care how you share this, if rebloging, or reposting it, or rewriting the whole thing but shorter in your own post but just share this feeling with the community. It would be so sad if all the things that makes this place special crumbled because people aren't confident anymore in how they write the DCA because of a game that came out yesterday.
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bvidzsoo · 1 month
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♡Boyfriend!Wooyoung♡
Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader
TW: none
Word count: 678
Genre: fluff, comfort, established relationship, bullet points, non-idol!au
A/N: Hello, anonie, I see that you have sent the request to my other blog, which I use for rebloging my favorite works (something that I haven't been doing for a long time lol I have to pick up on it again) I'd like to clarify that I don't take requests, sorry guys, but I simply don't have the time rn and I usually struggle coming up with anything unless it's my own idea lol. And if you do send a request, it might take a long time for me to write it, my apologies. This story is in bulletpoints, just letting you know. Hope you enjoy it! ^^
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it had been a long day
too long, actually
normally, tackling a long day of work and going to your Pilates class too wouldn't have made you so exhausted
but you were sick, very, apparently
you had spent the weekend up in the mountains last weekend, at your boyfriend's best friend's weekend cabin and it was rather cold
so naturally, you caught a cold
but life doesn't stop there, no matter how unwell you felt
you still had a job...a very demanding one, at that
and you had just picked up more shifts last week, unknowing of the predicament you'd find yourself in after your little trip
so now, by the time you had reached home at the end of the day, you had no power left in your body
your head was dizzy and you were grateful you managed to get home without crashing your car, but walking up the stairs to your apartment felt like an eternity, and it was horrible
as you fiddled for your keys, on the verge of tears as your whole body was burning up, you became aware of the music coming through the front door, and you boyfriend belting out high notes alongside it
and as you finally unlock the door and push it open, you're met with your boyfriend standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt reaching past his naked thighs and knee-high socks he uses when playing football with his friends after a long working day
and oh, he's holding a wooden spoon, looking completely off-thrown by your arrival
he misjudged the time and thought you wouldn't be home for another hour
now you'd have to wait for dinner, and that's not how he had planned your date night to go
which was a surprise that Wooyoung came up with last minute
you stare at Wooyoung for a second, before dropping everything from your hands and kneeling, holding your head in your hands, tears finally springing from your eyes
Wooyoung is flabbergasted and immediately rushes to your side, dropping the wooden spoon on the small coffee table in the process
he's by your side in an instant, cradling your head to his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead before he's wiping your tears away, making you finally feel at ease despite the headache, dizziness, and nausea you're feeling
Wooyoung is your pillar when you're feeling even the slightest bit off and he certainly understands that what you need right now are silence, a warm bath, and some painkillers, of course
and so just like that, he helps you up and walks you to your bedroom, leaves you on the bed to discard of your clothes and goes prepare the bath for you
and once you are done with the bath, feeling slightly better as your head isn't pulsating so much anymore, Wooyoung surprises you by bringing dinner to bed, of which you can't eat too much now, but it'll be good in the morning
and then Wooyoung gives you some water and you take the painkillers and before he could go and let you rest, you grab Wooyoung's wrist and offer him a small smile
and he understands without you saying anything
and so, he shuts off all lights in the apartment before joining you in bed, and because you don't want him to catch a cold, he becomes the small spoon as you burry your head into his back, holding onto him tightly
and suddenly all your worries melt away, and today doesn't seem so grim anymore
your head is still thumping, and your nose is still stuffy, and you think your fever is finally going down
but what matters most, is your boyfriend being by your side and humming quietly, tracing your skin gently with his fingers, your right arm resting around his torso, feeling safe
far away from the exhausting world and demanding assignments from your work
and you know you'll feel a lot better by the morning, all thanks to your lovable boyfriend, Jung Wooyoung
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lovelytsunoda · 4 months
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don't go breaking my heart // lance stroll
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soft moments stolen between wedding and reception
weddings are joyous and festive, but can be stressful for introverts like lance and his wife. so when they were able to steal some moments with each other in the peace of his aston martin between the ceremony and the venue, they know these are the moments they will treasure the most from that day.
pairing: lance stroll x newlywed reader
warnings: just fluff, a minor minor allusion to sex.
author's note: i have no idea why i have written so many wedding things for this man, but i think it's because he is the raw definition of husband material. thank you and good night lmao.
“don’t go breaking my heart…I couldn’t if I tried”
elton john and kiki dee crooned over the speakers as lances aston martin drove through the quebec countryside. it was a quiet night, stars high in the sky as he ran his thumb over his wife’s thigh.
“I love you.” he hummed, daring to look over at the love of his life as he took a corner too fast. “my darling darling wife.”
she smiled, meeting his gaze. “eyes on the road, handsome. you’ve got the rest of your life to stare at me. I love you too.”
the wedding had felt like a blur, maybe because of how wired they both felt. it should have been a smaller ceremony, in all hindsight considered.
it was an odd thing: you want to celebrate your love around all these people, but then the day arrives and suddenly you feel anxious at letting them see you pledge your heart to another.
lance and y/n had always been the quiet, soft couple. the one evoking ‘awe’s and heart eyes from the groups around them. they knew each other like the backs of their hands, better than any track map or textbook.
“enjoy the quiet while it lasts.” she hummed, nimble fingers gently easing the pins for her white lace veil out of her hair. “is it bad that I’m dreading my own reception?”
lance laughed. "nope. because i am, too. i know it's all about us and all that, but i hate being the center of attention. i would have rather had a dinner party."
she snorted. "technically this is really just a rather large dinner party."
"i mean, there's food and wine, you picked a damn good throwback playlist. dinner party." lance shrugged, taking his foot off the gas, headlights illuminating the empty road ahead.
lance had decided to take the scenic route, savoring this moment alone, this little bit of calm before the storm. before the party, the noise, the people.
just him and his wife, falling a little bit more in love with each other every day.
"if scotty throws his back out dancing to 'suicide blonde', i'm not fucking helping." y/n laughed, reaching for the stereo to flip to the offending inxs song. "i still cannot believe that this song was about kylie fucking minogue."
"there's a reason we invested in the mocktail bar."
"you know most of the guys have flasks hidden in their suit jackets, right?"
she would have preferred something low key, but her family had wanted the big party. it wasn't all bad. she got to pick the food (pasta bar, anybody?), the drinks, the decorations, the music. she'd made a throwback playlist of all her favorite happy songs, all the ones that made her feel alive, giddy and in love, ranging from inxs to def leppard to kesha.
she'd waited twenty-five years for this moment, so why was she suddenly getting this bad feeling about going to the party that followed?
the event venue slowly came into view over the distance, the white brick building with it's pillars and vintage charm, the walkway to the door lit up with fairy lights. the small parking lot was already almost full, the rest of the guests waiting inside for the happy couple. lance parked his car furthest from the door, but kept the engine running.
he took her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. "we can turn around and drive away." he was dead serious when he looked over at her. "i'm serious, we can run and go get burgers and milkshakes and see a movie and then go back to the hotel and not sleep a minute because we are too busy having the goofiest, most romantic sex of our lives. i just want you to be comfortable."
"i know. and that's why i love you so much, lance." she sighed, a smile blooming on her face. "but our friends are in there. our parents are in there. hell, your dad is probably trying to sell my dad on buying a time share villa in biarritz."
lance laughed, leaning over the center console to kiss her forehead. "whenever you want to leave, you just tell me. if you need a minute to yourself, just shoot me a text message and i'll come and find you. or don't, if you just want a walk in total solitude. i'll probably need one of those at some point, too."
"i knew there was a reason i married you." she joked, tilting her head up to press her lips to his. "i love you to the moon and back, lance."
"you wanna go inside?"
"we might as well."
lance took his seatbelt off, shutting off the car and sliding out of the driver's door. her dramatically slid across the hood, earning a laugh from his wife as he skipped towards her door, opening it for her before extending a hand for her to take.
"beautiful girl, love of my life, may i help you out of this shockingly low car?"
she laughed, slipping one of her hands into his warm one. "yes, my beautiful husband. yes, you may."
she stepped out of the car, the hem of her white silk dress dusting the gravel in the parking lot. a breeze ran through the area, making the hair on the backs of her arms stand up.
"love, you're shivering." lance said softly, slipping out of his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she put her arms through the sleeves, wrapping her arms fully around her husband. "i love you."
"i love you, too." she took a minute to stand there, her nose in his dress shirt, breathing in his cologne. bath and body works, today. she liked that. something playful and romantic instead of the heavy, stinging designer scents he usually wore.
"we should go inside." he whispered, their bodies swaying together in the silence, her skin warm against his.
"or we could stay out here just a little longer."
and who was he to argue with that?
"you get five more minutes. i'm starting to get hungry and the pasta bar has my name written all over it."
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spookyserenades · 8 months
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Trouvaille - Chapter Ten
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Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 21.9k
Trouvaille Masterlist
Trouvaille playlist
Updates on the 7th of each month
Happy autumn, everyone! I hope you enjoy this latest update. There's a little spookiness ('tis the season!) fluff, and maybe a tiny bit of angst. As per usual, I love to hear from my lovely readers, and I hope you enjoy this update!
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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Y/N froze, letting the ghostly voice wash over long enough for the strike of terror to rock through her, before gritting her teeth and straightening up. Spinning on her heel, she wanted to get a good look at the thing that refused to leave her alone, but as her eyes scanned the secluded corner of the yard, she saw nothing but a small sparrow swooping from branch to branch. 
“If I dare to what?” Y/N ground out, fed up. There was no answer to her retort, and she knew it wasn’t a very good idea to antagonize a spirit, but she couldn’t help herself. 
Huffing, she knelt back down and promptly buried the spell jar, packing the earth on top of it tightly. She was not going to be intimidated by a spirit that wouldn’t even show its face, threatening her in her own backyard. Part of her wondered if she should call for Namjoon; just in case the spirit kept trying to interfere with the ritual. She gripped the bundle of rosemary harshly at the thought of the spirit moving on from threatening her to the wolf hybrid or Jeongguk at the front of the property. 
Spurred on by the thought, Y/N continued to the other corner of the backyard, surprisingly staying calm and centered as she carried out her part of the ritual. Repeating the prayer continuously, she kept her mind on her hybrids, and how important it was to her to protect and keep them safe. Finally reaching the second corner she was responsible for, surrounded by wild shrubs and what appeared to be a fox’s den, Y/N swiftly buried her final spell jar without interruption from the spirit she was attempting to kick out of her life. 
The air felt electrified, but not in the menacing way Y/N was expecting. To her distant delight, she could sense the wards going up successfully, and the familiar sensation of being surrounded by magic embraced her like a hug from a long-lost friend. Namjoon and Jeongguk must have been holding their own, as well, because there were two faint energies mingling with her own in the borders of the wards. As Namjoon predicted, the three of them ended up being stronger together.
Y/N trailed along the final side of the area she was protecting, before cutting through the center of the yard to the rock where she’d set up the pillar candle. Predictably, Namjoon and Jeongguk were already lingering there. Namjoon had pulled off his cardigan; the sleeves of it tied around his hips, and a thin sheen of sweat covering the golden skin of his arms on display as he crossed them over his chest. Gnawing on her lip, Y/N approached more closely, raising an eyebrow at Jeongguk’s smug expression as he pulled up his baggy black cargo pants. 
“How’d it go?” Y/N began, stubbing out the rosemary bundle on the flat rock beside the candle, brushing ash off of her palms onto the material of her leggings. 
“Fine. The thing was pissed though, I heard it cursing in my ear the entire time,” Jeongguk replied offhand, surprising Y/N by pulling out his new journal and scribbling some notes into it while he spoke. 
“You could hear it?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows, hands coming up to rub his bare shoulders like they were sore. 
“Yeah, I could hear it. I could hear it when this one first brought me to this house,” Jeongguk jutted his pen in Y/N’s direction when he said this one, sucking his lip ring into his mouth as he resumed writing. “I think this’ll do it for now. It might be worth doing the banishment at the end of the month, though, for extra insurance– since it’s so pissed at the three of us.” 
“I heard it once, too,” Y/N sighed, thinking that Jeongguk was likely right– a banishment would ensure that the spirit would be removed from the property for good. “Before I buried my first jar, it threatened me.”
“What?” Namjoon seethed, reaching out to grab one of Y/N’s wrists. “Why didn’t you call for me? It threatened you?”
Surprised by the wolf hybrid’s reaction, his ears turned backwards against his skull and his teeth slightly bared, Y/N’s mouth dropped open, staring at the way Namjoon’s large hand encircled her wrist, his fingers overlapping on themselves bruisingly.
“Ouch, Joon,” Y/N chuckled, placing her free hand over his and patting the back of it for mercy from his tightened grip. He loosened up, his eyes flashing apologetically. “I thought about calling you, but I worried that it might start harassing you, too. I think we all handled it pretty well though, can’t you tell? The wards went up more quickly than I expected them to.” 
Clearing his throat, Jeongguk stuck his pen behind his ear, casting a brief glance at Namjoon’s hand clasped around her wrist before nodding, a piece of his chestnut hair falling into his eyes. 
“Honestly, I wasn’t so sure about the ritual when we started it. I thought that maybe it would be too simple, but it appeared to do the trick. Still, we should plan on the banishment later on. It won’t hurt,” Jeongguk crouched down, licking his thumb and forefinger before snuffing out the flame of the pillar candle. 
Though Y/N hadn’t instructed him to do that, he did it properly; without blowing it out and therefore “blowing away the spirits” that helped them with the ward construction. Feeling Namjoon release her wrist slowly, Y/N watched his steely guard go back up again, the picture of calculated and collected. 
“Thanks, you two, for helping me out. You did a really amazing job, I don’t think the wards would be as strong without your help,” Y/N began to pack away leftover ritual items back into her basket, taking a lungful of air and rejoicing in the lightness of its quality. 
Her back was turned to the two hybrids, but she was met with no reply from either of them. Further back in the yard, Y/N could hear Hoseok loudly complaining about the increasing humidity. Grinning to herself, she began to contemplate what to do for the rest of the day– perhaps hang out with Taehyung for a bit, or maybe offer her help with the chicken coop restoration. 
“I’m gonna head in now,” Y/N slung the basket of ritual items into the crook of her elbow, leveling a smile at Namjoon and Jeongguk, who were watching her carefully. “We can talk about the banishment in the future. The new moon is still a little ways away.”
Feeling a little sticky from the humidity and her romp around the yard, Y/N decided to take a nice, cool shower when she got back into the house, and maybe see what Yoongi was up to. Namjoon followed her inside, but Jeongguk remained outside, continuing to write in his journal on the picnic table with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. 
“I still wish you would have called for me after what happened,” Namjoon suddenly announced, stopping Y/N in the kitchen with his arms crossed. He looked ticked, his lips pursed and cheeks sucked in, and Y/N felt her mouth dry up at the sight of him. 
“Honestly, Namjoon, I was too aggravated that the thing was threatening me to call out for you,” Y/N scratched the back of her head, wishing that Yoongi was still in the kitchen to break up the tension. 
The wolf hybrid gave her an achingly slow once-over, scanning her face all the way down to her toes, Y/N’s cheeks heating up with the attention. She felt like she had to apologize to him, or beg for forgiveness, with the authority dripping off of him. Swallowing thickly, Y/N gave him a pat on his strong forearm, his eyes finding hers after studying her hand on his arm. 
“Next time, I’ll call for you. I promise,” Y/N said seriously, not wanting Namjoon to be upset with her. Still appearing a touch disappointed, Namjoon’s shoulders relaxed a degree, and Y/N didn’t know whether or not he believed her. 
“Hopefully there won’t be a next time,” the wolf hybrid pointed out, helping himself to a glass of iced tea from the fridge and turning his back on her. 
Y/N tried her best not to gawk at his bare shoulders. Namjoon was pretty built; and though Hoseok was the one with a keen interest in exercise, Y/N wondered if the wolf hybrid had also made use of the gym in the basement. Clearing her throat, she tore her eyes from Namjoon’s broad back, feeling like a bit of a creep. 
“Yeah, hopefully,” Y/N echoed distractedly, heat still pooling in her cheeks as Namjoon looked over his shoulder to stare at her quizzically. “I’m going to take a shower, so I’ll see you in a bit? Remember, we’re going to the brewery tonight!”
Namjoon hummed, the deep timbre of his voice sending goosebumps over Y/N’s skin, and she made a beeline to her bedroom to escape the wolf hybrid’s attention. Pressing a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart, she cursed herself for telling Namjoon to wear black– that tank top was lethal. 
She searched through her closet for something to wear later that night, settling on a flowy pastel blue miniskirt and a lacy white cropped tank, placing it on her bed and tossing her denim jacket beside the outfit. Y/N knew if Alice came along to the brewery with them that night, she’d be dressed to the nines, and there was nothing she loved more than dressing up to go out with her friends. As the water in her shower heated up, she gave Alice a call, sorting through her scant collection of lipgloss for a selection that would go well with her outfit. 
“Hey babe, how’s it going over there?” Alice picked up on the second ring, her raspy voice filling Y/N with warmth. 
“It’s been great, I think they’re all really starting to adjust,” Y/N replied, peering out into the backyard for a glimpse of any of the hybrids. All she could see was Jeongguk, who was still at the picnic table and writing in his journal. “I’ve signed a few of them up for some clubs at the rec center in town, so that’ll be good now that I’m working at Judy’s.”
“Yeah? How’s my little fox hybrid? I miss him already,” Alice asked coyly, Y/N imagining her biting her lip and batting her lashes. 
“Hoseok’s well. He wanted to join the rec center’s track team, so that’s what he’ll be up to soon,” Y/N responded, that tiny itch of jealousy from the cookout returning. “Hey, are you busy tonight?”
“Depends,” Alice drew out the syllables to the words, a teasing tone coloring her speech. “You know I’m always free for you, peanut.”
“Aww, Al,” Y/N giggled. “Miss Alice Santos, Boston’s prettiest and most successful poet, clearing her schedule for little old me?”
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Alice groaned, the sound of her pouring dry cat food into Heathcliff’s bowl coming through the receiver. “Get to the point, what do you want to do? Want me to come over, we can make those boys watch Pride and Prejudice and drink White Claws?”
“Honestly, that sounds like a pretty solid Saturday night,” Y/N admitted, shedding her clothes and tossing them in the hamper as she balanced her phone between her cheek and her shoulder. “But no. You know that brewery we’ve been meaning to check out? Salem’s? Want to meet there tonight and grab some dinner and a beer flight?”
“Yeah, you had me at ‘brewery’, babe,” Alice answered, bringing a smile to Y/N’s face. “I’m assuming you’re bringing the boys? Want to meet at seven?” 
“That works! Yeah, they’ll be tagging along. We don’t have much food in the house, Yoongi and I have to hit the grocery store tomorrow.”
“Oh, the sexy one with the long hair? The grill master at the cookout?” Alice teased, making Y/N squeak and flush. Hopefully Yoongi was napping in his room and couldn’t hear the first half of Alice’s statement. 
“Al! Keep it together,” Y/N managed amidst a cocktail of mortification and amusement. “See you tonight, okay?”
“You bet. Gotta pick out something cute to wear, if I’m going to see you and my little fox hybrid,” Alice sang, Y/N rolling her eyes at herself in her bathroom mirror. That was, before she realized she had done the exact same thing with her own outfit. 
Hanging up, Y/N hurried into the shower, rinsing the rosemary smoke off of her skin and wondering how the hell she’d find a taxi to transport eight people to and from the house. A problem for later, she supposed. 
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“So Tae, are you excited about the photography club on Wednesday? I heard they just re-did the darkroom,” Y/N was in the middle of rolling chocolate chip cookie dough in sesame seeds, plopping them on a baking sheet. She had time to kill until they met Alice and a pound of butter sitting in the fridge, so why the hell not. 
Taehyung was sitting on a barstool across from where she worked on the island, and to her delight, was discussing some of the records he was listening to that morning with her freely. It was the most conversation she had with the Kodiak hybrid in days, and she was able to keep all of her attention on him considering the rest of the hybrids were either still outside or in their own rooms. 
“Yeah, I am. I don’t know, I wanted to try something new– I’ve never taken photos before with a real camera,” Taehyung answered truthfully, his voice a low drawl as he rested his chin on his forearms, hunched over the island. 
“Oh, your camera should be here by Monday! You can take a few test shots before the club on Wednesday,” Y/N sprinkled a little sea salt on top of the cookies before placing the trays in the oven, dusting stray sesame seeds on the counter into the sink. “Photography is really cool. An underrated art form. I think you’ll enjoy yourself, Tae.”
Taehyung gave her a closed mouth smile, his dark curls wild and a bit matted down from where he was wearing headphones earlier. She was relieved that Taehyung seemed to be opening himself back up to her since The Incident, hoping that perhaps he could make a friend or two once he joined the photography club. 
“I think there might be a box with a vintage camera or two under the basement stairs. My grandfather used to be pretty fond of taking a million pictures of the entire family,” Y/N theorized while wiping down the counters, praying she didn’t get flour or butter on her skirt or top. “You could definitely use those for a project in the future! Experiment with different lenses and whatnot.”
“Really? Do you think they’d let me use an old camera if I wanted?” Taehyung perked up, his small ears fluttering with excitement at the thought. A light blush covered his cheeks, and Y/N couldn’t recall a time where Taehyung seemed so enthused. 
“Yeah, why not? The club is for learning, fun, and expressing yourself creatively… I’m sure they’d let you try out different cameras and methods for developing photos.”
Taehyung squirmed in his seat, pushing up the sleeves of his multi-colored sweater and grinning at Y/N, with his teeth this time. It was a struggle for Y/N to not fall over seeing his toothy smile for the first time in so many days, and it was even more difficult to not race around the island and pull him in for a hug. 
“What smells so good?” Came Yoongi’s gravelly voice as he strolled into the kitchen from the foyer. 
“I’m making those chocolate chip cookies from Pinterest I showed you a couple days ago,” Y/N began washing the mixing bowl she had used, cautious of getting any water on her outfit. She heard Yoongi purring, and kept one eye on Taehyung, who remained on his barstool and was watching Yoongi peer into the oven.
“The brown butter sesame ones?” Yoongi’s voice was now closer to her, Y/N glancing over her shoulder to locate him. 
He looked really nice– in an emerald colored sweater that picked up the green in his eyes, and a pair of black jeans. The leopard hybrid had the audacity to smirk at her, definitely able to tell that she was giving him a once-over. 
“Mm-hm,” Y/N hummed, determined to not let Yoongi tease her. “I have time to kill before we go out later, and Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin wouldn’t let me help with repairing the coop.”
“Oh yeah?” Yoongi leaned his hip against the counter, the weight of his gaze heavy as Y/N clocked him giving her a similar once-over. To be fair, she did look pretty great, but the scrutiny made butterflies bat around in her stomach. “Why’s that?”
“They’re cutting chicken wire and taking down old splintering wood, and they didn’t want me to ‘get a splinter or get a cut’,” Y/N informed the leopard hybrid, using her fingers to make air quotes. 
She thought the three hybrids outside were babying her, even with her clumsy track record, she had restored half of the old Victorian house by herself. That had to count for something– she hadn’t even injured herself once, even when she had to use a sledgehammer to knock down old cabinets in the kitchen last spring.
Shaking her head, Y/N heard Yoongi chuckling; the sound gritty and slightly rumbled. Alongside that, Taehyung was humming along to the pop song playing from her portable speaker sitting on the coffee bar, apparently not minding that Yoongi had joined them. A slight step forward, in Y/N’s book. 
“Hey, Y/N…” Yoongi recovered from his amusement, surprisingly sliding onto a barstool next to Taehyung. She had to grind her teeth together to prevent her jaw from falling open. “I noticed when we were putting extra food into the garage freezer that there’s an old basketball hoop and stand in there. Can I drag it out to the driveway for practice?”
“Absolutely! You might need some help because it’s really heavy with the sand still in the stand’s base, maybe ask Jeongguk? He’s been outside all afternoon, and he’s in a good mood today,” Y/N finished wiping down the counters, the timer on her phone going off simultaneously telling her to pull the cookies from the oven. 
Yoongi grimaced at the mention of the elk hybrid’s name, interlacing his elegant fingers together and leaning forward on the granite island, shooting Y/N a somewhat incredulous look. She raised her eyebrows back at him, as if to challenge him to vocalize whatever smartass retort he most definitely had swirling around in his head, before turning away and taking the cookie sheets out of the oven, the chocolate chunks still molten and bubbling. 
“Nah, I think I can handle it myself,” Yoongi settled on, ears perking up as footsteps padded into the kitchen from the foyer, heavy tread and slight clumsiness– Y/N pretty much knew exactly who it was without even having to look up. 
“If you say so, angel,” Y/N replied, glancing upwards and eyeing Namjoon, who entered the kitchen freshly showered and dressed in his normal earth tones, mercifully. “Hey, Joon!”
Namjoon grunted, staring at the trays of cookies Y/N had just set on the stovetop, his tail wagging behind him so quickly Y/N could feel it occasionally bat the backs of her legs. Y/N watched in horror as the wolf hybrid reached for a scalding-hot cookie, and out of reflex, she lightly swatted the back of his hand away, squeaking. 
“I just took these out, you’ll burn yourself! Go sit next to Yoongi and let them cool for a few minutes,” Y/N scolded, pointing across the kitchen and registering Namjoon’s shocked expression. 
There was a brief moment of an intense stare-down between them, Namjoon’s teeth slightly bared, before he heeded her directions and trudged over to the empty barstool beside the leopard hybrid. Expelling the breath she was holding, Y/N began transferring the cookies onto a wire rack, muttering to herself. 
“What time are we leaving tonight?” Taehyung asked, Y/N surprised that he had remained in the room with Namjoon’s arrival. 
“Uh, I think around 6:45? The brewery isn’t too far from here, and Alice is meeting us there at 7,” Y/N licked a little melted chocolate off of her thumb as she spoke, humming at the sweetness. “I think we’re going to have to take two cabs. We can’t all pile into one…”
She grabbed a few plates from the cupboard, gnawing on her lip. The idea of splitting up into two groups to get to the brewery didn’t thrill her, and by the silence that filled the kitchen at her words, it didn’t seem to thrill the hybrids either. 
Y/N had an idea of who would be okay with getting in a cab without her, and who would definitely not be. Honestly, she was just hoping the outing would go well, and they wouldn’t have to deal with judgmental people– much like the asshole from Best Buy. Mulling over fantasies of punching the Best Buy man’s teeth in, Y/N placed a couple of the still-warm cookies each on the plates she set out, before absently placing the plates in front of the three hybrids seated at the island. 
“What are you thinking about? You smell pissed,” Yoongi sat back in his seat, ignoring the cookie she put in front of him. 
Taehyung bit his lip, nodding along with Yoongi’s accusation, Y/N forgetting that they could catch the scent of her subtle shifts in mood. Namjoon simply stared at her, chewing on his cookie with a bit of chocolate smudged over his bottom lip. 
“Oh, nothing. Just recalling some jerks I’ve dealt with in the past week out in public, and praying that I won’t encounter any more tonight,” Y/N answered as truthfully as she could, knowing that if she told a bold-faced lie, they’d all be able to tell. Her response was as vague as it was honest, and Yoongi seemed to relax a bit, so she considered it a win. 
“I told you, just ignore them. Not worth your time or consideration,” Yoongi tucked hair behind his ear, taking a delicate bite of his cookie. “These are really good…”
“I’ll make some more after we do our weekly grocery run. I ran out of chocolate chunks,” Y/N smiled, watching Taehyung tear off pieces of the dessert to toss into his mouth. “I gotta go out back and let everyone else know when we’re leaving later, okay? Try to save some of those for the others, Joon,” Y/N chuckled out her last statement, clocking the wolf hybrid stacking another cookie onto his plate by the stove. 
Tail between his legs, the tips of Namjoon’s ears were reddened, a rumbling sound coming from the back of his throat. Taehyung actually snickered, which had Y/N doing a double-take at his shaking shoulders, her and Yoongi exchanging looks of confusion. Apparently ignoring the Kodiak hybrid’s amusement, Namjoon sat back down on his barstool beside Yoongi, diving into his second cookie silently. Y/N was quite proud of both Taehyung and Namjoon; the former was opening back up and spending more time around the other hybrids, and the latter was managing to keep his cool and ignore happenings that would typically provoke him. Once again trusting that Yoongi could keep the peace, Y/N exited the kitchen through the slider into the backyard to seek out her other four hybrids. 
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“That’s a lot of hybrids,” one of the cabbies, a short, middle-aged man, remarked, his eyebrows raised as he watched Jimin and Hoseok file out of the front door. “Now I get why youse called for two of us.”
Y/N pressed her lips together, choosing to bite her tongue as she realized the tone of judgment was missing from the cabbie’s voice. The other cabbie was on his phone, and from the sounds of it, was in the middle of a fight with his wife. 
“I can only fit three of youse,” the cabbie not currently yelling into his cell phone jabbed his thumb towards his Toyota Prius, Y/N grimacing at his thick Boston accent. 
Y/N turned on her heel to face the hybrids, all of which had finally made their ways out into the front yard. Namjoon was busy locking up the front door with the key he must have grabbed off the hook on his way out. 
“Alright, who’s okay riding without me?” Y/N decided to just cut to the chase, keeping in mind the time. They were already running a bit late; Jeongguk and Hoseok took more time than she’d planned on to get ready. Granted, they both looked fantastic, but she didn’t want to keep Alice waiting too long. 
Crickets. 
“Um…” Y/N started to grow uncomfortable with seven pairs of eyes on her at once, each with varying amounts of skepticism painted across their faces. “On the way back, we’ll rotate? I’ll ride with whoever I didn’t on the way there?”
“I think I can manage fifteen minutes without you,” Jeongguk drawled sarcastically, immediately strolling past her and getting into the passenger’s seat of the Prius. He had to duck quite a bit to prevent knocking his antlers against the door frame, which made her snort. 
“Come on, Jiminie. Let’s ride together, I want to fuck with the elk a little bit after that comment,” Hoseok grabbed Jimin by the arm, pulling him into the backseat while the poor coyote hybrid barked out complaints. 
“Okay, that’s sorted out. Let’s get going,” Y/N blew hair out of her face, once again grateful that Hoseok was so clever and definitely caught onto the fact that she was getting antsy to leave. 
Seokjin and Taehyung took the third row of seats in the minivan, while Yoongi and Namjoon made up the second– the wolf hybrid directly behind Y/N, where she was occupying the passenger’s seat. Y/N cringed at the cabbie’s loud cursing into his phone, feeling badly for the hybrids and their sensitive ears being subjected to all the noise pollution. 
“Ey! Hey– Jan. Will you stop piercing my ears for five fucking seconds?” The cabbie hollered, lowering his phone to his shoulder as he glanced at Y/N. “Salem’s? Is that where you’re all going?” 
“Yes, sir,” Y/N crossed her legs, praying for his wife on the other line. He was certainly a treat. 
After fifteen excruciating minutes of listening to the cabbie argue about his sports betting “hobby” with his wife, Y/N anxiously making sure the Prius with her other three hybrids in it was in front of them the entire time, all eight of them arrived at Salem’s Brewery without too much difficulty. Y/N noticed Seokjin massaging one of his silky black ears as he exited the minivan, a pout on his lips– all that yelling must have irritated the jaguar hybrid, who Y/N could hardly remember a time would speak at an even slightly raised volume. 
“See? I made it here alive,” Jeongguk greeted Y/N by the door to the brewery, which looked like an old tavern in a medieval town. The elk hybrid smirked around his cigarette, tucking his white tee shirt into his baggy black jeans. The waning, orange sunlight glittered off of the necklace her mother had given him. 
“Smartass,” Y/N teased, counting heads to make sure everyone was accounted for. To their luck, Alice didn’t appear to be there yet herself, as she had told Y/N to meet her at the front of the building so they could go in together. “Take it easy with those, Jeongguk. Cigarette smoke taints your palate.”
“We’re at a brewery, Y/N, not a Michelin restaurant,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, but heeding her warning by ashing out the cigarette in the outdoor tray. 
“Stop being such a dick,” Yoongi interrupted, his nose wrinkled up in disgust as Jeongguk blew his last drag of smoke directly into the leopard hybrid’s face. Unfortunately, Y/N was also on the receiving end of the blast, too. “Disgusting. Get yourself some menthols next time, or one of those vapes teenagers use.”
“A vape? What am I, a clown?” Jeongguk crossed his arms over his chest, Y/N’s eyes dropping to his tattooed forearms. Two tattoos on the backs of them appeared to be half of an image, like if he put his forearms together, they’d make a complete symbol. 
“You said it,” Yoongi retorted, his ears perking up when a car alarm began going off in the parking lot. 
“Stop bickering, I don’t want Alice to join in when she gets here. Her comebacks can be brutal,” Y/N scanned the parking lot for Alice’s beat-up Mini Cooper, spotting it barreling in from the street, her best friend pulling into a spot towards the front with screeching tires. 
“Damn, thought she was gonna drive into the side of the building,” Hoseok exclaimed from his spot on a bench several feet from where her, Jeongguk, and Yoongi were standing. 
The fox hybrid’s tail was swishing back and forth rapidly, a wide smile on his face when Alice emerged from her car, slinging her purse over her trim shoulder and spotting him with an enthusiastic wave. Y/N felt her eye twitch, and desperately pushed aside her jealousy before any of the hybrids could smell it on her, heavens forbid they could actually identify that particular emotion. 
Y/N broke apart from her hybrids to meet Alice halfway, pulling her in for a tight hug. As expected, she looked gorgeous– a cranberry colored slip dress, matching lip gloss, and an oversized leather jacket made her look like she stepped out of a magazine. Her perfume, the one she had worn since high school, filled Y/N’s senses and brought her immediate comfort.
“Look at you! I haven’t seen you in a skirt since grad school,” Alice breathed, hands on Y/N’s biceps as she stepped back to check out her outfit. “You look amazing!”
“So do you, as always,” Y/N blushed, adjusting the askew collar of Alice’s jacket. “I wore a sundress to the cookout, remember?”
“Vaguely. I was hammered towards the end of that night,” Alice smirked, tucking hair behind Y/N’s ear before craning her neck over Y/N’s shoulder to glance at the hybrids hanging back by the brewery’s entrance. “Boys! Shall we?”
Alice marched straight to Hoseok, who had gotten up from the bench to open the brewery’s door for her, a grin stretched across her face. Y/N followed behind, watching the two of them closely. 
“Hey you,” Alice addressed Hoseok as she strolled into the building, the fox hybrid joining her as soon as Y/N cleared the threshold of the door, Hoseok not bothering to hold the door for the other hybrids. “How’ve you been?”
Y/N was temporarily distracted from the interaction between her best friend and her fox hybrid, taking in the interior of the brewery. Much like the outside of the building, the decor and vibe was very much medieval tavern; the thick scent of greasy french fries and hoppy beer filled the air, the space was dimly lit up by wall sconces and iron chandeliers, and full of lively people enjoying their beer flights on a Saturday evening. It was a decidedly witchy establishment, with a slight nautical twist– it made her think about Moby Dick, and oddly enough, Hocus Pocus. Sort of an odd combination as far as themes, but somehow, it worked for the town it was in. 
“Table for…” the hostess, a teenage girl with green hair, disinterestedly surveying the group of people and hybrids in front of her, drawled. “Nine? I think we have one long table left in the back. Follow me.”
Y/N tried not to notice all of the eyes and rubbernecking going on as they followed the young girl towards the back windows of the brewery, overlooking the distant sea and sleepy town, but even she had to admit it was a sight to behold: seven male hybrids with two human women. Not something one saw every day, even in the age they lived in. The hybrids didn’t seem to mind, most of them were pretty preoccupied pointing out the occasional other hybrid in the room– there was a golden retriever hybrid at the bar with her family, and a calico cat hybrid sitting in a booth with his. 
Taking their seats was another ordeal. Taehyung sat on the end of the table, beside her, and Seokjin took up her other side, but she could tell Yoongi was a bit perturbed that the jaguar hybrid had beaten him to her remaining free side. Alice took up the chair across from Y/N so they could chat more easily, with Hoseok on her left and Jimin on her right. The remaining three hybrids who got to the table last found their spots begrudgingly, and menus were handed out promptly before the hostess slouched away. 
“We’re all getting flights, right? God, I might have to leave my car here overnight and Uber back,” Alice scanned the menu with her lower lip sucked into her mouth, eyes widening at the extensive beer list. “I want to try all of these. ‘Mermaid’s Lager’ and ‘Half-Moon Ale’... Y/N, these names have you written all over it!”
“Mmm… you’re right,” Y/N chuckled, though she was much more preoccupied with checking out the appetizer section of the menu.
“Alice, you should pick out eight if you want to try a wider selection. You can share my flight, I don’t know too much about beer, anyways. That way I don’t have to choose blindly,” Hoseok encouraged, leaning back in his seat and sending a lovely, pointed-tooth smile to Alice. 
“Ugh, you’re perfect, seriously?” Alice’s eyebrows shot into her hairline, nudging Hoseok with her shoulder. “Okay, okay, I have to make my choices…”
Y/N hid her grin behind her menu. While she was a little jealous of Hoseok’s attention on Alice, it was sweet to see Hoseok being so kind to her best friend. Next to her, Seokjin was practically bouncing in his seat, flipping the menu over frantically, his eyes rapidly roaming over each menu item with rapt interest. 
“Y/N, what’s a quahog? What are you getting to eat? Should we share the soft pretzels and beer cheese?” Seokjin rapid-fired in her ear, his fiery eyes round with excitement. From across the table, Alice paused, focusing on Seokjin as he continued asking questions. 
“A quahog is a type of clam. I’m not sure what I’m getting yet as my entree, but I’ll share the pretzels with you! Get anything you like, honey, I heard the food is really good,” Y/N replied, reaching up to ruffle the wavy hair on the back of his head. 
“I didn’t really get a chance to talk to you at the cookout! You’re Seokjin, right? I’ll get the quahog appetizer if you want to try it,” Alice smiled at Seokjin, who blushed at her offer. “Wow. I’m sure you get this all the time, but you’re really handsome.”
Hoseok began hooting with laughter, while Seokjin was spluttering, his face beet red. Y/N could feel his tail winding around the small of her back with the attention he was receiving from everyone, but Y/N had no business in scolding Alice for embarrassing him. She was, after all, completely correct. 
“Aw, Jinnie! Don’t be shy,” Hoseok cooed through laughter, Seokjin hiding behind his menu and curling his tail more tightly around Y/N’s waist. “It’s true!”
“Good evening, folks, I’m Joshua and I’ll be taking care of you tonight,” the waiter arrived at the head of the table, beside where Namjoon was seated. Swiftly, Alice and Y/N exchanged a meaningful split-second glance at each other– Joshua was hot. “Can I start you off with drinks? Are we doing flights tonight? They’re half off on Saturdays.”
Alice, of course, was quick to order both her and Hoseok’s flights, and Joshua made a slow circle around the table to jot down everyone’s drink order. By the time Joshua got to Y/N, she was fidgeting in her seat, struggling to maintain eye contact with the handsome waiter as she rattled off her flight choices. He had really pretty blue eyes, and looked quite a bit like a young Lindsey Buckingham. 
“Alright, I’ll get those in for you,” Joshua finished taking Taehyung’s order, which was just a pint of lager rather than a flight, and gave them all a pleasant, sparkly smile. “Also, I really recommend the soft pretzels. They’re my favorite and go well with some of the Sour IPAs.”
“Yeah, we are definitely getting those pretzels now,” Alice said dreamily as Joshua headed off towards the bar, Y/N reflexively kicking her in the shin under the table. Unfortunately for Y/N, her aim was off, and she ended up kicking Jimin– who hissed in surprise, eyes widening with alarm. 
“Sorry, sweetheart! I was trying to cross my legs,” Y/N yelped, furious with herself. Jimin relaxed at once, waving his hand at her as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’. 
“So! Y/N’s told me that some of you guys are signing up for stuff at the rec center. What are you signing up for?” Alice hung her jacket on the back of her chair, the straps of her dress slightly falling down her shoulders with the movement. 
“I’m trying out for the track team,” Hoseok leaned forward on his forearms, head tilted as he replied. 
“Oh, you like to run? My sister Laura used to be on the track team in high school,” Alice recalled, though slight displeasure washed over her face. She wasn’t particularly a fan of exercise. 
“Yeah, I like running, it clears my head,” Hoseok’s ears perked up when someone dropped their fork a table over, Seokjin flinching slightly beside Y/N and into her shoulder. 
“Yoongi’s trying out for the basketball team, and Tae’s going to join the photography club,” Y/N added, snagging both Alice and Yoongi’s attention, the leopard hybrid smirking at the sound of his name being called. “My mom still runs the book club at the library, so Seokjin and Namjoon have been going to those meetings.”
“What’s this week’s book?” Alice asked a still-flustered Seokjin, who couldn’t meet her eyes. 
“The Stranger, Albert Camus,” Namjoon responded for Seokjin, rolling up the sleeves of his white button down. 
“Hmm. Haven’t read that one. Philosophical novels aren’t usually my jam,” Alice tapped on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Photography and basketball… sounds really fun! What about you, Jimin? Jeongguk too, are you signing up for something?” 
“No, Miss, I’m repairing the stable in the backyard for the time being. Perhaps I’ll join a club in the spring, though,” Jimin answered politely, Alice blinking rapidly when he addressed her as ‘Miss”. 
“I’m all set with that shit, personally,” Jeongguk piped up from his end of the table, sounding bored. Alice opened her mouth to say something in response, but was interrupted by Joshua and three other waiters dropping by to hand out the drinks. 
The beer came in rounded, smaller glasses than Y/N was used to, but she supposed it was for the best– four whole pints of beer would have her seeing double. Joshua took their food orders, which was a lengthy ordeal, and Y/N felt her cheeks heat up when Joshua gave her a sweet smile when she relayed her order. 
“Y/N, how’s that shandy one? I almost ordered it, but I knew that you would,” Alice nodded at the glass Y/N was holding, which she immediately handed over to her best friend to try. “Oooh. Really nice. Here, try this Sour IPA…”
Y/N spent several lovely minutes trying at least seven different beers; Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok and Alice, of course, offered her sips of their selections. The hybrids chatted amongst themselves about their upcoming activities the next week, while Alice and Y/N got the opportunity to catch up. Alice informed her about her rough outline for her new poetry book, which had Y/N clinking her glass with her. Alice was glowing, and Y/N could tell how excited she was about working on a new project. 
While Hoseok began to ask Alice questions about her writing, Y/N took a look around the restaurant while sipping on her beer, her eyes landing on Joshua, who was leaning on the bar from across the room– and staring directly at her. Swallowing thickly, Y/N tore her eyes away from him, turning to talk to Taehyung, who was characteristically quiet. 
However, Taehyung wasn’t paying attention to her; he, too, was scanning the room, and his eyes were narrowed as he caught sight of Joshua. Taehyung must have realized Joshua was staring at her, and he bared his teeth slightly as he watched the waiter move behind the bar to make a cocktail. Without looking at her, Taehyung set down his beer and confidently slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, still glaring across the room. Squeaking at the contact, Y/N felt Taehyung rest his elbow on the back of her chair, his fingertips toying with the ends of her hair mindlessly. Gawking at the Kodiak hybrid, she wondered if he was doing all of that because of protective, territorial instinct, or if he was jealous. The thought had her heart pounding in her chest loudly. 
The scent of sandalwood filled her senses as Taehyung wrapped his arm around her, Y/N forgetting about everyone else around her. She hardly noticed Alice and Hoseok giggling at each other, waiters approaching to drop off the appetizers, and Seokjin placing a soft pretzel on the plate in front of her. The spell was broken when Taehyung withdrew his touch to grab a nacho from the plate in front of Hoseok, still glaring at Joshua’s retreating figure. Y/N didn’t even notice how the waiter was now actively avoiding the side of the table her and Taehyung were occupying, too busy reeling from the display of possession. 
“Okay, guys, what do you think about seeing a new movie in theaters in the near future? This cool horror film is coming out soon– Pearl, what do you say?” Alice proposed, passing the plate of stuffed quahogs to Seokjin with an encouraging smile. The jaguar hybrid was still too bashful to make eye contact with her. 
Digging into their appetizers, Y/N, the hybrids, and Alice made plans to see the movie on the night of its release, and Y/N was delightfully buzzed by the time she finished the chocolate lava cake she shared with Seokjin for dessert. When they bade Alice– who ended up taking an Uber, after all– a goodbye after the check was paid, Hoseok actually gave Y/N’s best friend a hug. True to her word, Y/N rotated seats in the taxi– she sat in between Hoseok and Jeongguk in the back seat of a Honda Civic, Jimin taking up the front passenger seat. Tipsy and full of way too much food that she had split with Seokjin, Y/N sleepily rested her cheek on Hoseok’s shoulder, falling in and out of comfortable slumber for the fifteen minute ride back home. 
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The next week and following weekend were a whirlwind of events. She had dropped off Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung at the rec center on Wednesday for their clubs, and again on Friday, while her mother offered to begin ferrying Namjoon and Seokjin to and from the library on Mondays for the book club, saving Y/N from having to leave at the crack of dawn before work to get them there. During the weekend, she helped Jimin out with the restoration work; they had finished the freshly-painted purple chicken coop, and moved onto putting a new fence around the exercise pen. At work, which was slower than ever, she spent most of her time between reading hybrid guide books and writing notes about the Tarot reading Judy gave her. 
The day of Namjoon’s birthday, which fell on a Monday, had her running around like crazy. She had asked for the day off, in order to coordinate how her dad would get Namjoon’s trailer to his house. The wolf hybrid was at the library with Seokjin for that week’s book club meeting, so Y/N had her dad drop off the trailer while he was gone. 
“Whoa, that thing is ancient,” Yoongi remarked, his arms crossed over his chest and spotted tail curling languidly behind him as he stared at the trailer– which turned out to be more of a camper van than anything. “Needs a hose-down.”
“Ah, I don’t want to do that just in case he wants to keep it this way,” Y/N dragged a fingertip along the yellow siding of the vehicle, the digit coming away dusty with dried mud. “You know how he is. Particular.”
“How much did you have to pay to get this thing here?” Yoongi watched as Y/N tied a little green bow onto the keyring to the van, an amused expression on his face. 
“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N gave Yoongi a little head pat, his ears fluttering as she did so. 
Namjoon made it back home around 4 PM, him and Seokjin clutching copies of The Scarlet Letter, and thankfully her mom heeded her request to drop them off at the front of the house so Namjoon wouldn’t see his trailer parked in the back by the garage. When Y/N asked what the wolf hybrid wanted for dinner the previous day, he vaguely told her “noodles”, so she and Yoongi made japchae, some side dishes, and meat, of course. She had absolutely raided the bakery in town, getting an assortment of cookies, cupcakes, and pastries, which she had to hide in the garage fridge overnight so Namjoon wouldn’t get his hands on them prior to his party. When she greeted the two hybrids her mother dropped off by the front door, Y/N noticed Namjoon was also holding a gift bag with daisies on it. 
“Whatcha got there?” Y/N asked the wolf hybrid curiously, while Seokjin was giving her a goofy side hug. The jaguar hybrid often clung to her when he’d return home from the book club; he said the week prior that he missed her a lot when he was away. 
“Oh, um. Your mom got me something for my birthday,” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck, following Y/N as she waddled to the kitchen with Seokjin hanging off of her. 
“Did you open it?” 
“No, not yet,” Namjoon admitted, sniffing the air, which was filled with a grilled meat smell. He entered the kitchen behind her and Seokjin cautiously, like he thought a ghoul was going to pop out from behind the refrigerator. “I didn’t want to open it while the group was there.”
“Fair enough. I’m curious though, why don’t you see what it is now?” Y/N managed to get Seokjin off of her once she squeezed her arms around his slim waist in a hug, the jaguar hybrid purring and taking a seat on one of the barstools. 
Namjoon stiffened as Y/N got close to him where he was standing by the coffee bar, peering around his shoulder at the gift bag. It was interesting– while Seokjin seemed to never get enough physical affection, Namjoon tended to avoid it most of the time. Every hybrid was different, so she supposed and had learned from the guidebooks she’d been reading. Last week, she found out from the wolf hybrid guide book; they take a long time to warm up to adoptive guardians and are slow to initiate physical contact. Since she had learned this, Y/N didn’t take his aloofness personally. 
Namjoon dove his elegant fingers into the sunshine yellow tissue paper, his ears turned backwards as if something in the bag would nip his hand. Pursing his lips, he used both hands to pull a box out of the gift bag, Y/N recognizing what it was immediately. Her mother had splurged on a gorgeous chess set for Namjoon, and once again Namjoon’s human ears had turned a shade of pink as he passed a palm over the glossy box. 
“Do you know how to play chess, Joon?” Y/N inquired, scooching a bit closer to him to admire the front of the box. The board itself looked like the squares were made of mother-of-pearl and ebony wood, and the chess pieces were intricately carved. “My grandfather taught me a long time ago, but I’m probably pretty rusty…”
“I never actually played, but I’ve read books about the game and strategies,” Namjoon replied softly, turning the box over in his hands and peeling the plastic film off of it. “I mentioned to your mother once that I’ve wanted to learn for a while.”
Damn. Y/N - 0, her mother - 1. Her mother had known Namjoon for longer than her, but the fact that she knew little intimate details about the wolf hybrid that she herself was unaware of stung a little bit. 
“Well, I’d be happy to play with you anytime. Because it’s been so long since I’ve played, it’ll be good for you to learn while being my opponent. I won’t kick your ass right away,” Y/N joked, hearing voices from outside draw nearer to the cracked slider into the backyard. 
“Hey, Y/N, what’s that th–” Hoseok came inside with Jimin and Yoongi, the latter of which smacked his hand aggressively over the fox hybrid’s mouth, cutting him off right before he spoiled the surprise. Thank the gods for Yoongi. 
“Foxy, go bathe. You fell in that pit of mud earlier, you’re going to get shit everywhere,” Yoongi shoved Hoseok towards the foyer, his palm still clamped over the fox hybrid’s mouth. Hoseok’s usually shiny mahogany waves were indeed, caked with mud, and the back of his tee shirt was soaked through as well. 
“Oh shit, I have to order the gravel to fill that mud pit in before it starts to get really cold. It’ll freeze and I’m nervous one of us will break a limb,” Y/N muttered, watching Yoongi pull a broom out of the closet in the foyer to sweep up the dirt Hoseok had tracked into the house. 
“I’ll add it to our list,” Jimin volunteered, pulling out his phone and tapping away. Jimin had been especially focused on restoration work over the past week. 
While she was at work and the other hybrids were at their clubs, the coyote hybrid spent most of his time outdoors. The only one home with him when everyone else was away was Jeongguk, who didn’t necessarily offer his help, but Jimin didn’t seem to mind. Y/N was shocked by how much Jimin had already accomplished; he had finished the exercise pen over the weekend with Y/N and was ready to work on the actual stable itself, which really only needed some roof patching. Y/N had made an Excel spreadsheet she shared with Jimin so he could keep tasks organized and jot down any items they’d need to buy. 
“Jimin, the restorations look amazing so far! I think at this rate we’ll have horses around here by November. I’ve asked around my grandparent’s pool of friends, and there are at least four of them interested in boarding their horses here over the winter,” Y/N approached Jimin, who was much tanner than he was when she first adopted him from all his time spent in the sun. Even his honey blonde hair had lightened a few shades, as well as the fur on his ears and tail. 
With her words, Jimin’s tail swished back and forth rapidly, excitement clear as day on his face. He had a small smear of mud on his nose, which Y/N reached up to remove with her shirt sleeve gently. Jimin’s cheeks turned pink as she grinned at him and pushed back the strand of hair falling into his face to join the rest of his combed-back style, Y/N resisting the urge to cup his face in her hands and smooch him all over. There weren’t many things she had seen before that was more precious than Jimin’s pure, radiant joy– it positively lit him up and made her giddy like a fool. 
“I should wash up before dinner,” Jimin’s voice was faint, like his thoughts were distant and too large for him to sort out, giving Y/N’s shoulder a weak pat before shuffling towards the foyer. “I’ll be back soon! Oh, and happy birthday Namjoon.”
Namjoon, who was still reading the back of the box his chess board came in, grunted in surprise, giving Jimin a short nod as the coyote hybrid left the kitchen in a daze. Y/N tried not to feel too satisfied that she seemed to have flustered Jimin a little bit, but it was quite the ego boost to make such a pretty man blush. 
Seokjin had migrated from the island to the breakfast nook, where he curled up with his knees to his chest, reading The Scarlet Letter. Y/N noticed Seokjin was taking notes, too, with the legal pad she kept in the kitchen junk drawer and one of her stolen pens from the animal hospital. The jaguar hybrid was totally engrossed, biting down on his plush lower lip as he read, his sock-clad feet tapping out a rhythm on the booth seat he was perched on, and his tail curled around his waist. She turned her attention back to Namjoon, who still appeared to be reeling from Jimin addressing him. Returning to his side, Y/N let his honey-and-musk scent wash over her pleasantly, his chest rumbling as she approached. 
“I got a few things for you too, can I give them to you now?” Y/N asked, knowing that Namjoon was more of a private person.
 In comparison to Jeongguk, who had more of a confident, devil-may-care attitude, she couldn’t really picture Namjoon being super comfortable getting showered in gifts while the other hybrids gawked at him. Now, with just Seokjin in the room, someone Namjoon had gotten more comfortable with thanks to the book club, she figured it would be the best time to give him his gifts. 
“Okay,” Namjoon answered after a moment, gingerly placing his chess set down on the coffee bar. 
Y/N told him to take a seat at the island while she whisked away to the dining room where she stashed the wrapped gifts, returning quickly with a smile on her face when she saw Namjoon followed her directions. Curiosity, along with a fair bit of skepticism, was painted all over his handsome face. It was a tall order to top her mother’s gift, but she thought the trailer might just give her a leg up. 
“Alright, Joon! This one first,” Y/N placed a wrapped parcel on the wolf hybrid’s lap, leaning her elbows on the granite countertops so she could watch him open the gift. 
Namjoon huffed out a little sigh as he began tearing the sage green wrapping paper, his eyebrows furrowing as he revealed the two items Y/N had wrapped together. She knew the sigh he released was to cover up the fact that he was slightly embarrassed, rather than annoyed, and it made her smirk into her palm. The gift was the set of Tarot cards that reminded Y/N of him, and the book she had picked up for him the day she took the hybrids for haircuts. Suddenly feeling nervous, Y/N stole a glance at Namjoon’s face, and was rewarded with an expression of surprise, his eyebrows lifted as he immediately pulled the cards out of its gilded box. 
“The colors reminded me of you, and you seemed to know all of the card meanings, so I thought you’d be interested in having your own set,” Y/N babbled, Namjoon ducking his head slightly so he could look at the artwork of a few cards off of the top of the deck. “As for the book, there’s a strong possibility you’ve already read it, but I’m crossing my fingers that you haven’t.”
Namjoon paused his loose overhand shuffling to peer at the book cover, wetting his lips and his ears fluttering as Y/N spoke. 
“I haven’t read this one. Looks like it came out recently… Maybe something in there will tell me what that entity is,” Namjoon leaned closer to Y/N, his voice low, as if he was trying to keep the moment between just the two of them. 
“Maybe it will,” Y/N mused quietly, feeling the air electrify as Namjoon drew closer into her personal space. “Here, this one next.”
Namjoon cocked his head, scanning her face with those calculating orange honey eyes, before tearing open the second wrapped box. A soft, muted noise of exclamation came from the back of his throat as he lifted the lid off of the box, before he actually began chuckling. 
“Oh, you remembered when I suggested a Walkman! Where did you even find this?” Namjoon lifted the device from the box, accidentally dropping the old wired headphones back into the tissue paper with a sheepish grunt. 
“Believe it or not, a pawn shop,” Y/N replied proudly, psyched that Namjoon liked his gifts so far. She could hardly wait to drag him outside. “Now you can listen to those folk tapes whenever you want, or order blank tapes online and record your own voice. Like an audio diary?”
Namjoon snorted, his dimples appearing in his cheeks, and used one of his free hands to drape over the back of Y/N’s. Shocked by the contact, and the fact that he had been slowly doling out more of it these days, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. 
“I have one m-more surprise for you, but it's outside,” Y/N stumbled over her words due to a slew of things; his hand over her’s, the way he was looking at her intensely, and the excitement of reuniting him with some of his belongings in the camper van. “Come with me!”
Y/N wrapped her hand fully around Namjoon’s, tugging him off of the barstool and excitedly blowing past Seokjin, still wrapped up in his book, and towing a spluttering Namjoon out to the backyard through the slider. 
“What else could you possibly get me? H-hold on, I’m going to trip,” Namjoon panted, stumbling a bit as Y/N pulled him to the gate leading to the garage and driveway. He squeezed her palm tightly, tugging her to a stop with one eyebrow raised– he didn’t release her hand, even when they stopped running.
Using her free hand, Y/N gave the wolf hybrid a mischievous look and reached into her  pocket for the keys to his van, which was obstructed by the garage and out of view, and brought their joined hands up to her face. Turning his palm over in her hand, she dropped the keys into it, the green ribbon fluttering in the wind. There was complete silence as Namjoon stared at the item that was placed in his hand, nothing but the breeze in the willow trees making a sound. 
“No fucking way,” Namjoon blurted loudly, startling a few mourning doves sitting on the gate to the garage and driveway into flying away with a series of coos. “Are you serious?”
Biting down on her lip, Y/N jerked her head sideways, Namjoon eagerly following her past the gate and towards the garage and driveway, the old camper van coming into view beside the basketball hoop Yoongi had set up. The siding of the vehicle was buttery yellow and white-turned-gray with mud and ancient looking moss, and there was something dangling from the rearview mirror– maybe an air freshener?
Namjoon tightly gripped the keys in his fist, pure astonishment on his face as he took it all in, his hand slightly shaking as he approached the side door to unlock it. Y/N didn’t check out the interior of the van herself; she figured far too many people had already invaded his space– between agents who apprehended Namjoon in the first place, the people at the impound lot, and her father who brought the van from the lot to their neighborhood. She wanted more than anything to check out what kinds of things Namjoon collected over the years, but since she had read more about wolf hybrids, she wanted to wait until he actually invited her into his space. 
The side door to the van creaked open with a rusty sound, a gust of parchment-scented air rushing out as Namjoon hurriedly hauled himself into the back of the vehicle, leaving Y/N standing in her driveway with a swish of his tail as he disappeared into the back of the camper. Shifting from foot to foot, she heard Namjoon mumbling to himself and banging into things from her spot outside the camper, when his head popped into view with fluttering ears, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 
“What are you doing? Come in,” Namjoon used two fingers to beckon Y/N up the steps, before disappearing into the back of the camper again. Giddy, she hopped up and into the van. 
It was a vintage camper, and surprisingly more roomy than it looked. It smelled like Namjoon, mingling with old books and the smell of pine trees, and it was pretty crammed with more books than she could count– stacked on the shelves, piled on the floors, strewn about the table by the seating area in the back, and by the looks of it, even shoved into the oven. There were tapes scattered about as well, and indeed, there was a poster of Bigfoot on the wall, next to the iconic “I want to believe” The X-files print that looked like it had seen better days. 
Above the driver’s cab, there was a loft with what appeared to be a bed where he’d sleep. There was a mini kitchenette that looked hardly used, an ancient looking TV nestled on the counter intended for cooking prep, and a little door by the seating area that Y/N presumed to be a bathroom. It had pretty much everything one person needed to live in there, and Y/N wondered where the hell he had even gotten it. It wasn’t like hybrids were technically permitted to drive (legally, that is), let alone waltz into a used car lot to purchase a camper van. It was another mystery that cloaked Namjoon. 
“I hope everything’s still here,” Y/N began, eyes roaming on some of the book titles that were lying around. Namjoon had everything from fiction novels, classics, esoteric non-fiction books, and even poetry anthologies. “Let me know if something is missing… I’ll call the impound lot.”
Namjoon was digging through a drawer that was built into the booth of the sitting area, his back to her. With no reply from the wolf hybrid, Y/N continued to take a look around, noticing that the lack of organization mirrored how he kept his bedroom within the house. Meanwhile, Namjoon found what he was looking for, straightening out and watching Y/N read some of the spines of the books he had lining a shelf beside the kitchenette. He could hardly believe she actually found the van, let alone had gotten it back to the house and surprised him with it. Namjoon was particularly good at sniffing out surprises before they happened, but nothing could have prepared him for this. 
“Wow, you have so many books about extraterrestrials. I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff,” Y/N commented, enjoying her little peek into Namjoon’s interests. “Have you read all of these? You must have a hundred books–”
“Y/N,” Namjoon interrupted her, his tone serious, grave, even. Tearing her eyes from his book collection so she could nervously make eye contact with the wolf hybrid, she wondered if she said something out of turn, or was somehow too familiar. 
“Mmm? Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop,” Y/N admitted sheepishly, clasping her hands together in front of her body to indicate that she wasn’t going to touch any of his belongings. 
Namjoon took a large step towards her, a soft expression on his face that was usually reserved for her mother. Feeling her cheeks flush, she stayed put, dropping the intense eye contact between them and instead focusing her gaze on the cream wool sweater covering his chest, the v-neckline exposing a small sliver of golden skin. 
“This is for you,” Namjoon murmured, gently grasping her clasped hands and turning over one of her palms, placing a smooth, cool object into it. Shocked, Y/N gaped at the wolf hybrid, before examining what exactly he had gifted her. 
In her hand was a crystal, smooth and rounded, roughly the size of a ping-pong ball. She couldn’t help her sharp intake of breath, turning the crystal over in her palm, the milky color of the stone flashing blue and purple in the light coming from the window over the kitchenette. Y/N could immediately identify the crystal as soon as she saw that flash– it was a gorgeous moonstone, one that had the most striking flash of brilliant color she had ever seen. And for once, Y/N was completely at a loss for words.
“I found it by a creek a few years ago, at Yellowstone. I remembered I had it, and thought that you’d like it… considering your collection on display on the bookshelves in my room,” Namjoon filled the silence as she felt all sorts of emotions begin to well up inside of her. 
Not only was the first thing Namjoon did when entering his van after such a long time was give her something of his, but the fact that he noticed her old crystal collection in his room, and most of all, the way he was looking at her. It was entirely overwhelming. 
“Oh Namjoon, are you sure? It’s so beautiful, I can’t believe you found this!” Y/N finally managed to breathe, heart racing in her chest. 
Namjoon hummed in confirmation, a content smile on his lips as he gazed around the van, his ears flickering with the sound of the breeze outside. To heighten her surprise even further, the air was knocked from her lungs as Namjoon tugged her forward, gingerly wrapping an arm around her waist so tightly his hand ended up resting on her hip. His other arm moved to drape around her shoulders, tucking his face into the crook of her neck resolutely. Choking on an intake of breath, Y/N hardly had time for her brain to catch up with her motor skills, pressed up so tightly against Namjoon’s muscled chest. 
“Thank you,” Namjoon whispered into her neck, squeezing her slightly as she, with trembling limbs, wound her arms around his waist. 
It was as if he was thanking her for many things, with the seriousness in which he uttered the two words. Completely stunned into silence, Y/N could only imperceptibly nod in response, pressing her cheek over Namjoon’s steadily beating heart. Warm all over, she let Namjoon hold her for what seemed like minutes, before he pulled away and Y/N was able to regain some mental facilities. That was the first time Namjoon had ever hugged her. 
Regarding her with newfound fondness, Namjoon turned with a swish of his tail, resuming sorting through his drawers and making sure all of his belongings were there. Y/N had yet to move an inch since the out-of-character hug. All she could think about was how safe she felt in his arms, protected, even. As if someone had pressed play on a paused action movie, Y/N was able to reanimate herself now that Namjoon’s penetrating gaze was no longer lingering on her. 
“I’m going to set out everything for dinner now, okay? I’ll send you a text when everything is heated up… I got a bunch of sweets for dessert, too,” Y/N announced after lightly clearing her throat, Namjoon’s ears fluttering with the sound of her voice. 
Sliding the beautiful moonstone he had given her into the pocket of her linen pants, Y/N felt her wooden limbs begin to robotically take her down the steps into the van. Before she could stray too far, Namjoon spoke up again. 
“Y/N, really,” the wolf hybrid paused his sorting through some well-worn sweaters from the drawer he was organizing. “Thank you.”
Pausing, Y/N shot him a wide smile, warmth blooming in her chest. 
“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Joonie.”
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Namjoon’s birthday was a wonderful success, and ended up endearing Y/N to the wolf hybrid by many strides. The rest of the hybrids treated his birthday like it was a normal dinner, except they got to indulge in champagne and all kinds of desserts after, as well. Taehyung had even begrudgingly wished him a happy birthday after a couple of flutes of champagne, and the wolf hybrid was too busy talking to Jeongguk about his paranormal book collection to growl at Taehyung. Tension between Namjoon and Taehyung seemed to be slowly dissolving over time, and after the former’s birthday had come to pass, mid-September began to fly by. 
One Thursday afternoon at the metaphysical shop, while Y/N was munching on a caesar salad wrap Yoongi had packed for her lunch, Y/N received a call while she was on her break. Fumbling for her phone, thinking it was an SOS call from one of the hybrids at home or the rec center, she didn’t even check the caller ID before picking up. 
“Y/N? Do you have a pulse?” Ben, who she had neglected to contact frequently over the past few weeks in the midst of mayhem, sarcastically drawled. 
“Still breathing,” Y/N confirmed, setting her wrap down so she could better focus on the call. “Sorry I’ve been missing… Two birthdays this month, clubs at the rec center have started, and the new job. How are things? Daisy, you and Roy?”
“I figured you were busy, no worries, Y/N,” Ben chuckled. “We’ve been super busy too. I took some time off so I could be at home with Daisy, Roy’s still working on his dissertation. We’ve stalled our wedding planning. It's been so crazy. Oh, and we signed Daisy up at an activity center, like a daycare? We get to stay, of course. She’s made so many friends already, another bunny hybrid!”
“Who would have thought we’d all be so domestic right now,” Y/N grinned into the receiver, doodling flowers in her notebook. She had just about wrapped up her analysis of her reading she got from Judy all those weeks ago. “Maybe tomorrow at some point I can swing by, bring some lunch for you guys? This weekend’s nuts. Hoseok has a track meet tomorrow night, Yoongi has a basketball game on Saturday morning, and I told Jimin I’d take him to the hardware store after. Sunday, too, Taehyung’s got his first expo, and I’m doing something with Namjoon and Jeongguk later that evening.”
“Christ. I thought I was busy. I forgot you got seven of them, and they’re adults,” Ben sounded astonished, Y/N giggling into her palm as she skimmed her notes. “Wait, you only mentioned six of them. What’s the remaining one up to? Not interested in clubs?”
“Oh, Seokjin? He’s in the book club my mom runs out of the library. He’ll probably tag along with me to all of the events. He’s quite against parting with me for too long,” Y/N felt a fondness flow through her as she mentally pictured Seokjin’s lovely face, and the way he shadowed her constantly. 
“Yeah, hybrids are clingy, Y/N. Bet you’ve learned that by now, though. Do they claw at each other to see who gets to sit next to you on the couch?” Ben joked, unaware that Y/N was flushing– because they pretty much did. “Speaking of Seokjin. I looked into that situation you texted me about regarding the Cirque Mystique fire. As well as the other two things. I’ve had some free time whenever Daisy is down for her naps.”
“Ben. I love you, do you know that?” Y/N’s week was made with this revelation, visualizing his blue eyes rolling back into his skull on the other line. “I have like fifteen minutes until I have to open the doors again!”
“Alright, I’ll give you the basics. I’ll send over everything I’ve compiled after we hang up, sounds good?” A ruffling sound of papers being sorted through came through the receiver; Ben had likely printed out all of the information Y/N had him dig around for. With Ben’s status as a powerful, successful business lawyer, he had not only numerous far-reaching connections, but a persuasive personality to seek out information she could never find out herself. 
“Yes, yes, go ahead,” Y/N urged, pulled out of her intense focus on the reading she had just finished taking notes on.
“So, let’s start with Cirque Mystique. They’ve had a few lawsuits over the years, I’ve worked with other lawyers that handled their cases. One of my buddies has a contact over at the circus, so I was able to ask directly about the hybrid your Seokjin was performing with the night of the fire,” while Ben spoke, Y/N held her breath. “Hannah, a cat hybrid. She’s still with the company, she’s fine… sustained minor injuries, but my friend is working to get her out of the company. She’s pressing charges for unsafe working conditions. If she wins the case, she’ll be able to enter the adoption system.”
“She’s okay? Thank goodness,” Y/N placed a hand over her forehead, overjoyed that she could tell Seokjin the good news later. “Wait, hybrids can press charges like that?” 
On the other line, Ben hummed in amusement. 
“Y/N, you really are clueless about the hybrid world, huh? Yeah, within the last five years or so, the law protects hybrids in certain ways. We’re not all there yet, unfortunately, but for serious matters… poor living conditions, abuse, etcetera, hybrids can press charges and request representation if they so desire. Typically, public defenders take the cases considering most hybrids cannot be legally employed, meaning they have no way to pay for a higher-profile lawyer. However, some of my colleagues have taken cases and waived fees for many cases regarding hybrids. Morally, we can’t stand how some of these hybrids have been treated,” Ben explained patiently. 
“So, hybrids can take cases to court now,” Y/N confirmed, Ben grunting in response. “Which answers one of the other things I asked about.”
“Yeah, so, I’m not quite sure if I can give you a perfect answer. I understand protecting whichever hybrid of yours that may have gotten himself into a situation, but it depends on how serious the issue was. You mentioned self defense in response to an abusive situation, correct?”
Y/N had asked Ben, as vaguely as she could, about how a hybrid would go about protecting themselves if placed in a dangerous situation, and used self-defense in response to danger. She hadn’t mentioned Taehyung’s name at all, not that she was worried Ben was some kind of rat, but because the Kodiak hybrid didn’t even know she was arming herself with information, just in case they’d need it in the future. She prayed that day would never come. 
“That’s right, self defense. For example, say I was walking around Boston Common, and someone tried to mug me and a couple of the hybrids. If they fought back physically in the name of self defense, would juries likely side with the hybrids?”
“Well, that depends on who makes up the jury, and how good your lawyer would be. Say that actually happened, right? Fortunately, Y/N, you have the means to hire a really good lawyer for your hybrids. A few sympathetic members on the jury could definitely sway the verdict in your favor. I’d say, keep whatever happened under wraps until either your hybrid presses charges or the other party does. But yes, I’ve seen cases involving hybrids defending themselves against abuse resolved in their favor,” Ben sounded like he was rubbing his close-cut beard, deep in thought. “I compiled some information about cases like this, I’ll include it when I send the email to you later.”
“Thank you Ben, this is really great stuff so far,” Y/N gushed, relieved to have certain anxieties quelled with his information. “Any news on the last query?”
The final thing she had asked Ben to look into regarded Jimin. Ben’s cousin lived in Wyoming, and was married to a park ranger, so she was able to find out a few things for Ben to report back to Y/N. She had a couple of tricks up her sleeve not only surrounding Jimin’s birthday in a few weeks, but for Christmas as well. 
“Ah, yes, Jimin’s surprise,” Ben said through a smile. “Here’s the thing. You need to send the Yellowstone ranch’s office a copy of his adoption certificate to prove he’s in your care, and what you want to retrieve for him in Montana…”
“Yeah? Rip the bandage off,” Y/N picked at her nails, expecting some hoops to jump through. 
“Y/N, it’ll be a pretty hefty sum. I mean, it’s not like they’d be shipping a crate of books to you. They’re willing to do it, for the right price of course, and provided you show them that Jimin is officially adopted by you,” Ben revealed with a note of skepticism. 
“All I care about is if it’s possible, which apparently it is,” Y/N waved her hand in the air, even though no one was there to watch her gesticulate. 
“I figured,” Ben snorted, knowing Y/N was the type of person to splurge endlessly on those she cared about. “As far as taking Jimin to visit his family, that’s allowed as well. Really, as long as you can show the Park that you’ve legally adopted him, and he’s not just a stray, there’s no rule that prohibits him from visiting his family on the ranch.”
Y/N wanted to take Jimin to see his parents, sister, and friends some time after the holidays, perhaps in January. She only wanted to entertain the idea if Jimin wouldn’t face any sort of punishment, considering he had run away from his home and employer. Since all that was needed was proof that he was living under her roof legally, she could not only gift him a trip to Montana for Christmas, but surprise him with something huge for his upcoming birthday. 
“Ben, thank you so much, I mean it. I knew you’d be able to dig all of this up,” Y/N excitedly stuffed the last bit of her delicious wrap into her mouth, catching a bit of homemade dressing on the corner of her mouth with her tongue. She’d never tire of Yoongi’s cooking. “You’re a superhero. I can’t wait to see you and hug you for twenty minutes.”
“Y/N, don’t flatter me. It was refreshing to look into all of this for you, since I’ve been cooped up at home for so many weeks. Don’t get me wrong, though– I’ve been loving my Paw Patrol marathons with my daughter dressed in our pajamas in the meantime,” the sound of Ben filing away his papers filled Y/N’s ears, his breathy laughter threaded in between his words. “As for what you mentioned earlier, I’d love it if you could swing by tomorrow for a visit. I miss you, and Daisy has been asking for ‘Foxy’. I think she heard your leopard hybrid calling him that.”
“Hmm, how’s early afternoon? Hoseok’s meet isn’t until 5PM, and I have the whole day off. I can likely rope everyone into coming, but we’ll see,” Y/N watched the clock on the wall, making sure she had some more time to finish her lunch. “Hey Ben, one more thing?”
“What’s that?”
“Do you know if anything has changed regarding hybrids getting a driver’s license?” 
“Jesus, Y/N. Do you read any of the articles I send you? Yes, driving schools have begun taking on hybrid students,” Ben scolded lightheartedly, Y/N noting that she’d probably end up signing a handful of the hybrids up to get an official license. 
Getting some form of official ID for those who didn’t want to drive would be wise, too– and when she thought about it a bit longer, Y/N would need to look into getting another car. Her to-do list was never ending, but it kept her busy and the tasks were all worth it, if it meant her boys could live lives as close to normal and comfortable as possible. 
“Ah, I can hear Daisy. She has a new habit of climbing out of her bed after her nap to look for me in my office. Time for Paw Patrol,” Ben had never sounded more affectionate, except for when he was talking about Roy and their wedding plans, perhaps. “Take it easy, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You too, Ben. See you then, give Daisy a hug for me,” Y/N wrapped up the call, waiting for Ben to hang up first as he started to baby-talk at his daughter. 
Y/N, while finishing off the little bag of chips Yoongi had included into her lunch, unlocked the metaphysical shop’s front door and turned the sign back around to “open”. It was busier prior to lunch, and typically customers tapered off after her break, so she returned to her stool with a sigh and brought her attention back to her notes on the reading. After many weeks of consulting the guide book, asking Judy to see the physical deck, and slyly observing each hybrid’s behavior, she was fairly confident she had sorted out who was who. 
The Shaman - Related to the element of Air. Insightful person, involved with magic, particularly protection magic. Gaze is ‘ancient’, mature, and seems to possess knowledge from ages past. Animistic spirituality. Meditative. Respects nature and what can be learned from it. Musical, finds the sounds of nature inherently musical. Educator and leader of the young, “walks between worlds”. Seokjin (?)
She had spent a majority of the time trying to decide which card represented the jaguar hybrid. Over the past month she had spent with Seokjin, she noted his insightful, wise nature, his calmness, and his deep respect and admiration for nature. He was the one the others often looked up to, sometimes begrudgingly so, since he was the oldest in the house. 
Often, she heard Seokjin singing– she wasn’t sure if Seokjin was aware he had a listener, let alone a fan, but Y/N often found herself enjoying his melodious voice when he sang in the shower, while he worked on the stable repairs with her and Jimin, or even when he was tipsy and helped with post-dinner kitchen clean up. 
Additionally, there was a certain quirk of Seokjin’s Y/N had recently become aware of. He was unnaturally perceptive, and Y/N would even go as far as saying it was on par with Namjoon’s perceptivity. Seokjin, more than any of the hybrids, could not only sense her immediate shift in mood, but the other hybrid’s as well. He had a unique ability to emphasize with anyone in the house, even if he disagreed with their actions. After much deliberation, she decided Seokjin was The Shaman. 
The Archer - The Spring Equinox, sunrise, air, inspirational and creative. Hoseok for sure. A focused, determined, athletic person full of purpose. Cunning. Eager for adventure, bold, desires to take control of life and ambitions. Steady state of mind. Soulful, clever, uses intellect to their advantage. Imagination is powerful and has the ability to manifest into reality.
The Woodward - Lammas, late summer, fire and water. Associated with the full moon. Others often mistake passive, emotional, humble nature as weakness. Controls emotions with ease, but displays them with ease. Jimin, most likely. Understands facing fears, has experience with darker subjects of the cycle of life. Possesses great inner power. Brave, wise, balanced person. Compassionate, merciful, experienced in natural life cycles. 
The next two were the easiest to figure out; Hoseok and Jimin. Out of all seven of her hybrids, they were the more extroverted of the two. Y/N only had to read three lines of the guide book to know that The Archer was her Hoseok; clever, adventurous, and definitely imaginative. Jimin, on the other hand, wore his emotions on his face clearly and without restraint. However, he was incredibly polite and in control of his actions, which she had clocked when he first scented her. Like The Woodward, she noticed that some of the other hybrids would often make him the butt of a joke because he was so willing to let things go out of politeness, but Jimin was no pushover. He’d make his own jokes in retaliation, with class and wit. 
Yoongi and Taehyung were more difficult to place, but not as much as Seokjin was. She spent a week alone, with the remaining two cards, trying to make out who was who. It was that day, at work, where she finally felt confident enough to assign them a card. Taehyung being quiet and mysterious, and Yoongi being enigmatic no matter how attached at the hip he was with Y/N, she nearly drove herself delirious in the effort. 
The Hooded Man - The Midwinter Solstice, the element of Earth. Solitude, a thoughtful person. Represents death and rebirth. Frost, ice, and winter are associated with the card. Inner depth. Someone who has a quiet or slow voice. Withdrawn. Can be harsh, keeps to self. Seeker of knowledge, old soul type individual. Strong willed, survives any stressful situation and turns tribulations into lessons learned. Good at comforting others… Taehyung (?)
The Guardian - This must be Yoongi. Samhain, elements of Water and Earth. Protective, “human link to the wilderness”. Can incite fear in others, but controls their own fears well. May practice paganism at one point in their lives. Complex person, unafraid of the unknown or the taboo. Can be a trickster, has an inner darkness due to circumstances that have happened in the past. May get lost in their thoughts. Hades, Oberon, Dark Angel.
Biting the cap of her pen, she contemplated whether or not she had placed those two hybrids correctly. The characteristics of The Hooded Man that matched up with Taehyung were his soft-spokenness, and his introverted personality, and his “solitude”. Once she deduced that Taehyung fit that card best, she became puzzled with the remaining card being Yoongi. 
Yoongi, who was probably the most selfless and caring person she had ever met in her life, being a card as dark as The Guardian? It didn’t make too much sense to her, but the other cards fit everyone else too well for her to reconsider. Perhaps there was an inner darkness to Yoongi that she hadn’t seen yet… he did have a proclivity for schooling his features, and Y/N didn’t know too much about his past. Like a lot of the others, he really didn’t bring up his life prior to his adoption, and Y/N was hesitant to prod around, considering how close she and Yoongi had become. 
Interrupting her contemplation over the reading, the witch bells rattled against the shop’s door, announcing the arrival of a customer– a young woman with lilac-dyed hair, holding hands with a tall man. Once Y/N blinked rapidly to clear her head, she greeted the two customers cheerily, watching them peruse the crystal table. 
With a jolt, she realized that the man was actually a hybrid, perhaps a German Shepherd hybrid, triangular ears crowning his head and an air of protective energy surrounding him. The young woman was happily examining a chunk of clear quartz, and to Y/N’s great surprise, her hybrid ducked down to give her an affectionate kiss on the apple of her cheek, the woman giggling in response and getting on her tip-toes to plant one on his lips. Eyes glazing over, Y/N felt a deep ache in her chest; she couldn’t wait to go home and see her hybrids, all of a sudden. 
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“Okay, okay, we have to get going now, or Hoseok will be late for his meet,” Y/N was trying her best to corral the seven hybrids back to her Land Cruiser parked outside of Ben’s townhouse. 
She brought a stack of pizzas from Sal’s over for lunch. Recalling Laura’s diet before a track meet from her high school days, Y/N knew that loading Hoseok up on carbs was probably her best bet, and everyone– her hybrids and Ben’s family– loved Sal’s pizza. They spent the afternoon eating in Ben’s grand dining room, catching up, and playing with Daisy. Jimin and Hoseok were delighted to see the bunny hybrid again, and Y/N had to physically shove a plate with four slices of pizza on it into Hoseok’s hands while he was chasing Daisy around Ben’s living room so he wouldn’t cramp up during his meet.
“Foxy,” Daisy pouted in a watery manner, making grabby hands at Hoseok while Roy held her on his hip. Over the course of the afternoon, the bunny hybrid had gotten pretty attached to Hoseok. “Don’ go!”
“Sweet pea, Foxy has somewhere he needs to be. We’ll see him again soon, don’t worry,” Roy soothed, in his typical calm and collected manner. Daisy continued to fuss and reach for Hoseok, who had his lower lip jutting out as well. 
“Next weekend, Dais, okay? I’ll see you then, we’re going to pick pumpkins, remember?” Hoseok also attempted to soothe, Y/N catching Jeongguk rolling his eyes as he hauled himself into the back seat of the Land Cruiser. Y/N was actually quite proud that Jeongguk had refrained from not only using expletives the whole afternoon, but also from lighting up a Marlboro for so many hours. 
“Thanks, Ben, for all of the info,” Y/N gave him a hug, making sure each hybrid was getting into her car as she patted the thick envelope of paper in her tote bag Ben had discreetly placed in there before they left. “See you next week, love you.”
Ben, Roy, and Daisy waved at them as Y/N pulled away, having Namjoon beside her set the navigation to the rec center. Ben lived in the heart of Boston, on Beacon Hill, and the rec center was in her town just outside of the city, so it would take them about half an hour to get there. She was genuinely surprised that everyone was willing to go to Ben’s and then Hoseok’s meet, but she suspected that some of them were just itching to get out of the house, particularly Jeongguk and Jimin, who rarely left. 
The rec center was a huge concrete building, right on the edges of the town they lived in. Large basketball courts were outside by the parking lot, and at the back of the building was the running track. As she had read on the website, soon the outdoor sports would be moving inside. That weekend were the only meets and games Hoseok and Yoongi would have outdoors until the spring, if they decide to sign up again, that is. 
It was 4:15 by the time she had parked and everyone was following Hoseok to the track. He was whistling joyfully, swinging his gear bag around and tapping a rhythm on the side of it, Y/N taking a sideways glance at the basketball court and its stands that she’d be crowding into the next morning. She didn’t know if anyone besides Seokjin would be joining her for Yoongi’s game the following day, but it would be nice if the others would be just as supportive of the leopard hybrid as they were of Hoseok. 
“I gotta hit the locker room and change, the bleachers are over there. I think there’s a dude selling hot dogs and cheeseburgers somewhere, too,” Hoseok paused by the back door of the rec center, overlooking the running track. Already, there were quite a few families crowding the stands, and a handful of hybrids in uniform stretching on the track. 
“Alright, we’ll go find spots. Looks like Yoongi’s already on it,” Y/N snorted, most of the hybrids following Yoongi to the stands like lost little ducklings. Turning to Hoseok, who was rooting through his gym bag, the fox hybrid pulled out a white sweatband, which he promptly shoved over his head to get his hair out of his face, ears popping up cutely with the movement. “Come here, you. Good luck, I’m cheering for you!”
Y/N tugged Hoseok to her by the belt loop of his jeans, squeezing her arms around his waist tightly, hooking her chin over his shoulder. Usually, when Hoseok would give her a hug, he’d similarly place his chin over her shoulder, so she had gotten used to holding him this way. Hoseok was only caught off guard for a split second before he clasped his hands behind her back, playfully nuzzling his nose into her hair. 
“Go find your seat, before there’s none left. You don’t want to have to sit on someone’s lap, hmm?” Hoseok placed his hands on Y/N’s hips, lightly pushing her away with a cheeky grin. “Gotta change and stretch. I’ll see you after, my darling.”
With that, Y/N waited until Hoseok retreated into the rec center before she headed towards the bleachers, most easily recognizing where she had to go by spotting the bony set of Jeongguk’s antlers. Yoongi had chosen a section of bleachers right in the front, and people around her hybrids were giving them a wide berth. After all, it wasn’t like they were bunny hybrids. Y/N wondered if she should go on a podcast or something, so she could tell the world that exotic hybrids were just as clingy and sweet as your average housecat hybrid. 
Y/N settled in between Yoongi and Seokjin, with Namjoon and Jeongguk directly behind her. Confused, she looked around for her remaining two hybrids, but couldn’t visually locate them anywhere. Panic, as per usual, was impossible to squash down. 
“I sent them to get some drinks and snacks,” Yoongi spoke unprompted, cracking his knuckles and glancing at Y/N out of the corner of his eye. Talk about mind reading skills. 
“Hungry again? I knew I should have ordered seven pizzas rather than six,” Y/N relaxed, leaning into Yoongi’s shoulder and humming. 
“Seokjin wanted to try what they had,” Yoongi scooted closer to Y/N, his sweet-scented shampoo tickling her nostrils. “Even though I told him the food is shit here.”
“Hey, let me decide for myself! How could a cheeseburger possibly taste like shit?” Seokjin declared, sending a dirty look Yoongi’s way. Y/N believed it might have been the first time Seokjin ever swore in front of her, and it made her hook an arm around his back in amusement so he could nestle closer to her side. 
“What’s Foxy’s event, anyways?” Yoongi let it go, pushing a hand through his long locks. 
“He told me he’s doing one of the sprints, and a middle distance event. I think the mile,” Y/N replied, eyes lighting up as Hoseok jogged out of the rec center building dressed in his uniform; a red tank top and matching bottoms, black Spandex shorts under the baggier red uniform pants. 
Hoseok made his way onto the track, fist-bumping a couple of his teammates– a racoon hybrid, from the looks of it, and a calico cat hybrid. Y/N, entranced, kept her sight glued to Hoseok doing quad stretches and animatedly talking to his friends. Hoseok, by nature, could talk to anyone. He made friends everywhere he went, whether it be Y/N’s own friends, his teammates, or even a random cashier at the grocery store. 
The coach, a wiry thin man with gray hair, began handing out numbers and pins to the team. Hoseok ended up with the number 807, and even from several yards away, Y/N could see his wide smile as he pinned the number to his tank top. By now, Jimin and Taehyung had returned from the food stand, the former with a tray of sodas, the latter balancing several paper boats of hot dogs, french fries, and cheeseburgers in his arms. Y/N accepted a portion of french fries, still full from the pizza, mindlessly fiddling with Taehyung’s dark curls as he sat in front of her with his soda. 
“Hmm. You were right Yoongi, it’s shit,” Seokjin begrudgingly admitted, Y/N snickering as the jaguar hybrid chewed loudly in her ear with a pout. Yoongi rolled his eyes. 
“So, there’s going to be a loud noise when the coach shoots off the flare gun. Just giving you all a heads up, it usually spooks me,” Y/N nonchalantly informed the hybrids, but more specifically warning Seokjin in particular. 
She didn’t want to single him out and make him uncomfortable, but Seokjin was jumpy around loud sounds, so the warning was necessary. Nonetheless, he got the message with his keen perceptivity, and wound his tail around her waist in a silent response. 
Hoseok was incredible. When it was his turn to sprint, Y/N cheered him on, even though he was lagging behind. However, at the last moment, he shot forward like a rocket, coming in second behind his friend, the raccoon hybrid. Y/N clapped like a maniac, nearly spilling her basket of french fries all over the top of Taehyung’s head. 
A bit later on, it was time for the middle distance run, and Y/N was on the edge of her seat. As a joke, Jeongguk leaned down from his seat behind her, offering her an unlit cigarette poised between his inked fingers. After receiving a glare from Y/N, Jeongguk smirked and tucked the cigarette back into the carton, licking his lips. 
“Do we get to leave after this event?” Jeongguk spoke up, Y/N not tearing her eyes from Hoseok jogging in place at the starting line. Twilight had begun to color the sky in lilacs and pinks, a slight chill in the air as the sun disappeared behind the rec building. 
“I think so, unless Hoseok wants to stay and watch the rest of the events,” Y/N replied without looking back at the elk hybrid, gripping Seokjin’s hand tightly before the flare gun would go off again. His palm was warm and combatted the chill, and his thumb lightly brushed the back of her hand continuously. 
It seemed like falling behind, getting a slower start, before surging forward at the last minute was Hoseok’s strategy to win. The fox hybrid ran with grace, and it was almost spellbinding to watch him surpass each of his teammates as he pulled forward in first. Y/N hardly even noticed Yoongi taking off his bomber jacket to place around her shoulders as the temperature outside continued to drop. She only registered the action when she stood abruptly the same time Hoseok crossed the finish line first, the jacket unceremoniously dropping off of her shoulders as she screamed her head off. Sure, the people around her were giving her odd looks, but she didn’t give a shit. 
“Way to go Hoseok!” Y/N shouted, her fox hybrid getting attacked by bear hugs from his teammates on the track. “I’m so proud of you!”
Without thinking, Y/N whistled the three note tone Hoseok always did, and watched as Hoseok tore away from his friends and immediately whipped his head around to locate the source of the whistle. Ears perked up and alert, his eyes zeroed in on Y/N, who whistled again, waving like her life depended on it. Hoseok looked taken aback, even with all of the commotion around him; his teammates slapping his back, the coach attempting to give him a handshake. Cocking his head, Hoseok sobered up, his face splitting into a grin, waving back to Y/N with equal enthusiasm. 
As it turned out, Hoseok wanted to leave after the event, not even bringing up his first and second place wins as he approached Y/N and the others, complaining about the cooling temperature. To be fair, the fox hybrid was covered in sweat, so that couldn’t have helped the situation. Y/N attempted to give him another hug, but he claimed that he was too grimy, so they piled into the Land Cruiser for home when it was all said and done. In celebration of Hoseok’s success, Yoongi made everyone homemade hot chocolate when they got home, killing the cold that had seeped into Y/N’s bones from being outside. 
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“You look really good,” Y/N breathed, taking in Yoongi in all of his glory, dressed in his green basketball uniform and leaning against one of the basketball hoops. Surprisingly muscular for his slight frame, Y/N had never seen so much pale skin from the leopard hybrid. Additionally, he had put on a fair amount of weight and muscle since she adopted him– when he was not getting much to eat at the shelter– which was relieving. 
His game was mid-morning on Saturday, and only Seokjin had elected to come with her and Yoongi. Currently, the jaguar hybrid was sitting on the bleachers further away, taking stock of the cooler he had brought along, filled with snacks and drinks. Y/N didn’t think he wanted another hockey puck burger from the food stand, so he packed things from home to eat. 
“Do I?” Yoongi lifted a brow, surprised Y/N would be so forward. “Jersey’s a little tight. Might ask for a bigger one next gameday.”
“Nuh-uh. Looks fine to me,” Y/N shook her head innocently, enjoying the blush on Yoongi’s cheeks with her teasing tone. “Number 54.”
“Are you flirting with me?” Yoongi deadpanned, Y/N shrugging lightly. She had long since become immune to Yoongi’s quick comebacks, and truthfully, she was flirting with him. “Careful.”
“54, get that hair up! Can’t have it hanging in your face during the game,” Yoongi’s coach, a stern middle-aged woman with a blonde crew cut, barked his way. Yoongi had mentioned she was tough, but an amazing coach. 
Yoongi made a move to grab the green scrunchie around his wrist, before Y/N stopped him by lightly snatching his wrist herself. 
“Can I do it? Please?” Y/N dangled the scrunchie in front of his face, winking coquettishly. It was very easy to make Yoongi blush, but even easier to get him to give in to her every whim when she teased him a little with a flirtatious glance. It was certainly an ego boost. 
Nodding with his eyes downcast, Yoongi took a seat on a courtside chair, Y/N filled with glee as she rounded the chair and slid her fingers into his silky black hair. Pulling her lip in between her teeth, she knew that Yoongi’s hair wasn’t long enough to completely tie back into a bun, so she gathered up the pieces on his crown and framing his face, softly scraping her fingernails against his scalp for a little added massage. Hearing him purr from beneath her, Y/N hummed in response, using the scrunchie to make a half-up half-down bun style, before straightening out the strands still loose against the back of his neck. Satisfied, she gave Yoongi a tap on his shoulder, prompting him to get back up. 
“There you go, all set,” Y/N admired his face now that his hair wasn’t hanging in it, the shaved sides above his human ears exposed. It was a shame he had to take out all of his hoop earrings for the game, because they’d go well with the hair style. “Knock ‘em dead out there, angel.”
His coach began furiously blowing her whistle, indicating that the game was starting soon, so Y/N took it as her cue to begin returning to Seokjin. Before she could get very far, though, Yoongi caught her around the elbow. 
“Hey, what about my good luck hug sweetheart? Foxy got one,” Yoongi tilted his head. Oh, the tables were turning, apparently.
Shoulders shaking with laughter, Y/N opened her arms, looping them around Yoongi’s back and shuddering at the feeling of him slinging his low around her waist, both of them pressed cheek to cheek. Yoongi wound his fingertips into the hem of her sweater, his chest rumbling with purrs against her’s. In a strong bolt of confidence, Y/N released him, his features curious while her’s mischievous, and much like when he first made her lunch to take to work, Y/N leaned up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on Yoongi’s cheekbone. 
“Good luck, Yoongi,” Y/N whispered coyly into his ear, sending him one more wink before shoving him lightly towards the court, where his teammates were gathering around the coach. 
The leopard hybrid walked off in a daze, caught off guard by the impromptu kiss once again, and Y/N skipped to the bleachers where Seokjin was waiting for her, reading the book club selection of the week. She wondered if Seokjin had seen the spectacle and was ignoring it, or if he was too wrapped up in The Catcher in the Rye. 
“Hi honey, I missed you,” Y/N snuggled up close to Seokjin, the briskness of the wind telling her October was on the way. “How’s the book? Can’t say that one is a favorite of mine.”
“I’m not a big fan so far, either. Um, but next week we’re reading Pride and Prejudice. I remember you said you liked Jane Austen a lot, so I’m excited to get through this one and move onto that. You’ll have to tell me a little about it,” Seokjin set his book down, adjusting the collar of Y/N’s sweater so it covered more of her shoulder. Seokjin often fussed over her bundling up as the weather was cooling down, lately. 
“Ooh, you, Joonie and I can watch the movie after you finish the book. I think you’ll love it. Hmm, maybe Jimin too, he likes romance movies,” Y/N wormed her way even closer to Seokjin– if she was any closer, she’d be in his lap– and linked her arm under his. The jaguar hybrid, she noticed, didn’t like the cold, so she didn’t think he’d mind if she made herself into a space heater for him. 
“So it’s about romance?” Seokjin glanced down at Y/N, his fiery eyes distant for some reason, his voice very soft. 
“Yeah, it's arguably the best romance novel of all time,” Y/N replied, trying not to find his reaction strange. Did she spoil the surprise for him? Before she could read too much into it, Yoongi’s coach blew her whistle, and as Seokjin flinched closer into Y/N’s space, the game began. 
While Yoongi was playing, like when Hoseok was running, Y/N was transfixed. Yoongi seemed to be the best player out of the bunch; and being the shooting guard for his team, he scored several points in the first quarter alone. She recalled her phone call with Alice not too long ago, when her best friend referred to Yoongi as being sexy… and watching that basketball game, she couldn’t help but think about how right Alice was. Something about watching Yoongi running around on the court, yelling in his deep, raspy voice at his teammates, and the sweat that began to collect around his hairline and dampen the locks had her pretty much squirming in her seat. She prayed Seokjin didn’t notice, but he had been periodically going back and forth from paying attention to the game, reading his book, and snacking on some Doritos. 
The game became a nail biter in the last quarter, and Seokjin began to watch it with more focus, offering Y/N a few Doritos as she nervously tapped her foot against the metal bleachers. Yoongi seemed to be growing frustrated with the other team’s shooting guard, a Doberman hybrid, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists as the hybrid kept annoyingly close to Yoongi once realizing he was the biggest threat on the opposing team. 
As the timer was running out, the two teams were tied. Seokjin was soothingly patting Y/N’s back as she gnawed on her nails, eyeing the sweat rolling down Yoongi’s temples. Just as she was praying to the sky, Yoongi managed to get the ball, sinking a three-pointer, not even seconds later the buzzer going off indicating that the game was over. 
Unlike Hoseok, who had welcomed hugs from all of his teammates before seeking out her and the others, Yoongi immediately turned to the bleachers and pointed at Y/N, who was already flying out of her seat and cheering in delight. 
Before she knew it, she was jumping up– right into Yoongi’s arms, as he caught her mid-air, her arms around his neck and legs encircling his waist, his hands supported her by cupping under her thighs. Still squealing with joy into his neck, Y/N didn’t even register all of the cheering around her and teammates thumping Yoongi on his back. He won, and the first thing he did was look for her.
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After Yoongi’s game, she treated Seokjin and Yoongi to some lattes and pastries before they headed back to the house, and she spent the rest of the day trying to calm her racing heart after Yoongi held her by working on the stable with Jimin. When she found the coyote hybrid that afternoon, he was on the roof of the stable sans shirt, patching up holes with shingles. So much for calming her racing heart. Fortunately, he put his tee shirt back on by the time he and Y/N were hauling hay into the nearly completed stable. 
The last two things on her agenda, when she woke up on Sunday, were Taehyung’s photography expo in the afternoon, and the banishment ritual she had planned with Namjoon and Jeongguk in the evening. The ritual, fortunately, could be performed inside, and was quick and dirty; after all the running around during that weekend, she was both utterly exhausted and ready to just chill out with all of the hybrids on the couch for a bit. 
The dress code for Taehyung’s expo was casual, but Y/N still decided to wear a cute autumnal dress, in a gothic periwinkle color trimmed with black lace. This time, not only did Seokjin tag along, but Jimin and Hoseok as well, which she thought was a nice gesture. Everyone who went dressed up a bit; Seokjin and Jimin in button downs and dress pants, Hoseok in a maroon sweater and jeans, and Taehyung in his outfit he had worn to the cookout– the ruby satin short-sleeve button down and baggy black cargo pants. They all looked pretty stylish, in Y/N’s opinion, and as she pulled up to the rec center for the third day in a row, she felt many eyes on the five of them. 
“We only have to stay for a little while. There’s no presentation or anything, just a few of my pictures hanging up, and champagne served,” Taehyung began nervously, nodding at the older gentleman holding the doors of the rec center for them. 
“Aw, Tae, we’ll stay for as long as you want! I can’t wait to see your first pictures. You’ve been working so hard, walking around the backyard for good shots, editing on your phone,” Y/N insisted, clicking her tongue when Hoseok rushed by her with Jimin and Seokjin in tow, straight for the nearest person with a serving tray full of champagne flutes. “If I want to get them printed, how would I go about doing that?” 
With this, Taehyung turned quite red, matching not only his shirt but the peculiar color of his eyes, too. Y/N took a cursory look around the room they had set up the event, clumps of people and hybrids scattered around the industrial looking lobby, low tables of appetizers and cheese plates, and of course, framed pictures on the walls, separated by who took them. 
“Taehyung! Good to see you here so early. Did you see where we set up your pictures?” An older woman, perhaps in her sixties, approached her and Taehyung standing in the middle of the room with their champagne flutes. “Oh, you must be Y/N! So nice to meet you, dear.”
Y/N shook hands with the woman, who had gorgeously painted plum fingernails and several artsy bracelets. She reminded Y/N of her mother, vaguely.
“Come, come. I’ll lead the way. I put your pictures up over by the window, Taehyung, and we hung them with the walnut frames you picked out last week,” the woman gestured for her and Taehyung to follow her, and the Kodiak hybrid suddenly looked incredibly nervous. 
Y/N reached for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly, not wanting him to feel shy about showing her the pictures he had worked on all week. She made sure Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin were faring well; they were chatting with a couple of other hybrids across the room and enjoying cheese and crackers, presently. As they walked to where Taehyung’s pictures were, Y/N felt Taehyung’s palm grow clammy in her grip, his ears flattening to his skull so much they were hidden in the mass of his dark curls. 
“Here we are! They’re beautiful, I can’t believe it’s his first time with a camera– Oh! Brian, welcome! Excuse me, you two… enjoy the expo, and well done, Taehyung!” With that, the woman breezed away to greet another hybrid and his family, stepping out of the way so Y/N could get a good look at the four photographs framed on the wall. 
The first one her eyes landed on was a picture of the front of their house in black and white, the sunlight reflecting interesting shapes on the eaves of the roof. It was taken from a spot in the flower beds lining the walkway up to the porch, so a single Black-eyed Susan was closest to the lens. The second, also in black and white, was a picture of himself, holding one of her grandfather’s vintage cameras up to an old mirror in his bathroom back at home. As per usual, he looked gorgeous, and there was a ghost of a smile on his usually stoic face. 
Smiling, she recognized the room in the third picture immediately, it was the room with the piano, and the photograph was in color. It was a shot angled from where Taehyung would lay on the floor to listen to records, and the picture showed Y/N and Yoongi’s feet as they sat at the piano for their weekly lesson. It was amazing that she wasn’t even aware that Taehyung was snapping pictures of them, but judging by the sweatpants Yoongi was wearing in the picture, it was from two weeks ago when he was teaching Y/N “Clair de lune”. The photo showed Yoongi’s sock-clad foot over her’s on the sustain pedal, showing her when to hold it down. If anything, it was quite an intimate shot that had her cheeks heating up. 
Swallowing thickly, and rubbing circles into Taehyung’s wrist bone, she got closer to the wall, turning her attention to the last picture. It was then when she finally gasped; it was a candid, colored portrait of her. She had no idea when Taehyung had snuck that picture of her, but from the softened, fuzzy edges of the film grain, it was taken with one of the vintage cameras. She was mid-laugh in the photo, her hand covering her mouth and eyes scrunched up in mirth, curled up on the couch in the parlor with purplish light illuminating the side of her face from the TV. Y/N never really liked seeing photographs of herself, but this one was lovely. Hardly believing it was even her, she stepped closer to the picture, trying to ascertain exactly when he had taken the photo. 
“Um… they’re kind of amateurish, but I think when I edited the two black and white ones, the result turned out nicely. I didn’t retouch the colored ones at all, they had pretty good lighting on their own,” Taehyung let go of her hand so he could point at certain areas of each photograph, his voice a little unsure. “Do you… what do you think? Are they bad?”
Casting a glance towards the Kodiak hybrid, who was anxiously analyzing his work with knitted brows, Y/N moved to grab his other hand as well, forcing him to face her. 
“Tae, they’re gorgeous. I love them, especially the one that you took with the mirror. Just as I thought, you’re a natural,” Y/N squeezed his large hands as she emphasized certain words. Taehyung could tell, based on her scent, that she wasn’t lying to him, and as if the sun came out, his adorable, wide smile blossomed across his face. It was enough to almost bring her to tears, the brightness of it. “I definitely want to print these. I’m going to display them in the house.”
Letting Taehyung go, she began to admire his pictures once more, taking a sip of her champagne. The Kodiak hybrid moved behind her silently, and sandalwood fragrance enveloped her as Taehyung leaned down to nestle his chin on her shoulder, Y/N feeling low grumbles against her back as he pressed up against her, his arms around her middle. It wasn’t unusual for Taehyung to hug her like this, her back flush to his chest, so she leaned into it with a content sigh. 
“It was hard to pick just four. I’m happy you like these ones, though. You’re not mad I took pictures of you?” Taehyung murmured into her ear, his dulcet voice causing her to shudder in his embrace. 
“Of course not, Tae,” Y/N reassured, his curls tickling the sides of her neck as his face burrowed there. 
Often, she forgot she was in public when moments like this happened, so caught up in warmth and sensation nothing else seemed to matter. As if hearing her thoughts, Taehyung pressed his lips against the side of her throat, featherlight and tender. Feeling her stomach flip, Y/N leaned more of her weight back into Taehyung’s chest. 
“Y/N, over here! Check out this guy’s photos. They’re of a creepy old church, right up your alley!” Y/N heard Hoseok call from across the room, snapping her out of her Taehyung-induced reverie. Stepping away, she kept her arm linked with Taehyung, seeking out the other hybrids she had brought along with her. 
“Let’s take a look around! Then I have to find that woman who greeted us earlier to ask about prints,” Y/N walked side-by-side with the Kodiak hybrid, heading towards where Seokjin, Jimin, and Hoseok were congregating in the center of the room. 
After an hour, Y/N left the rec center with the four hybrids and a thick portfolio full of Taehyung’s photography. When she got home, she placed an order for a handful of picture frames. 
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Just like that, September passed them by, and summer’s heat dissolved into a damp, overcast October. Once her, Jeongguk, and Namjoon had completed the banishment ritual, which involved burning herbs in her old cast iron cauldron and handing out sachets of cleansing bath salts for everyone in the house, Y/N was confident that they had gotten rid of the hag entity for good. She no longer felt its presence at all, in fact, the Victorian home had never felt so safe and protected. 
The stable was finally finished, which gave Jimin the opportunity to begin assisting Y/N with house renovations, starting with the hideous wallpaper on the second floor that was peeling in sheets. Even though the house was half-renovated, Y/N didn’t skip decking it out with extravagant Halloween, or Samhain, as she also called it, decorations as soon as the calendar read October 1st. Jeongguk poked fun at her for being overly enthusiastic, littering dozens of pumpkins on the porch and throughout the home, but Seokjin helped her set up the purple and orange lights on the fence around the front yard. Their neighborhood, filled with spooky looking homes from decades past, was popular with trick-or-treaters, so typically everyone went all out with decorations. 
It was the morning of Jimin’s birthday, a Thursday, and Y/N couldn’t help but think that it just missed falling on a Friday the 13th. Because Jimin didn’t belong to any clubs, she was having difficulty coordinating how to get his surprise in place, so she enlisted Hoseok’s help. 
“What do you need me to do, darling?” Hoseok whispered mischievously, after breakfast when Jimin had gone to take a shower before properly starting his day. 
“After he gets out of the shower, do you mind taking him for a walk over to my parent’s down the street? They have a gift for him anyways, so that’ll be the excuse for getting him out of the house,” Y/N felt like they were having a conspiracy meeting, ducking their heads together and speaking in hushed tones. 
When Jimin emerged from his bathroom, dressed in blue jeans and a buttery yellow crew neck sweatshirt, Hoseok promptly tore him from the house, the coyote hybrid sputtering out protests. As soon as they were down the street, Y/N had about an hour to get everything in order. 
“Joonie, can I have your help?” Y/N knocked once on the open door to his van, where he was inside reading a book about chess, spinning a pawn around in his fingertips. The look of shock on his face was adorable, but he set down his things and joined her outside. 
“There’s a delivery truck that just got here five minutes ago, looks like a horse trailer,” Namjoon informed her, following closely behind as they ventured further out into the driveway. 
“It is a horse trailer,” Y/N confirmed as they approached, Namjoon’s ears twitching as he heard something she could not. 
“Y/N, I know you’re a little, um. What’s the right word… generous with the birthday gift giving, but you did not get Jimin a horse, did you?” Namjoon lifted a brow incredulously, looking down at Y/N like she had sprouted a third arm. 
“No, I didn't get him a horse. I got him his horse. From the ranch,” Y/N retorted, tugging Namjoon by his wrist to greet the delivery driver and begin the process of bringing the horse to the freshly painted stable. 
It was no easy feat; Y/N had close to zero experience with horses, but luckily for her the delivery driver and Namjoon seemed to have things covered. Jimin’s horse, a beautiful bay female, was named Vista, and had a seemingly sweet disposition. 
“Now, this horse is used to Montana climate, and the winters can be bone chillingly cold. I think she’ll be alright here, and Jimin will be able to take care of her well,” the delivery man, who spoke in an accent similar to Jimin and Namjoon, gave Vista a strong pat on the neck, the horse nickering softly. 
Seeing the driver off, Y/N was starting to wonder why Hoseok and Jimin were taking so long at her parent’s house. Back in the house, Yoongi was busy making BLTs for lunch as per Jimin’s request, and placed the other gifts she picked up for Jimin on the island– just a nice bottle of his favorite whiskey, some new crystal tumblers, and a couple of new sweaters. 
“Y/N, Judas priest. Go out back, ding and dong returned, and they brought… guests,” Jeongguk came in from the kitchen slider after his smoke break, Y/N pausing her assembly of a sandwich to assist Yoongi. Judging by the look on Jeongguk’s face, which was poorly masked hilarity, Y/N began to hightail it to the backyard again. 
“Hi guys, you’re– dear god,” Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes threatening to pop out of her skull. 
Jimin was pulling her mom’s old red wagon, and nestled inside were chickens. Live chickens. Hoseok, with great effort, was holding a rooster in his arms, his teeth gritted, but merriment in his eyes. 
“My parents got you chickens for your birthday?” Y/N asked stupidly, Hoseok squawking as the rooster tried to flap free from his grasp. 
“Believe it or not, this is the kind of gift I’d get back at the ranch for my birthday often,” Jimin chuckled, completely unfazed. “We should get them to the coop though, that rooster is going to peck a hole into Hoseok’s arm.”
Shit. If Jimin was heading back to the stable, he’d see Vista, and they hadn’t even had cake yet. It couldn’t be helped, however. 
“Hoseok, here, give me the rooster. I’ve handled them before, don’t worry! Why don’t you change, I think it–”
“Yeah, it shit on me. It’s cool, I’m going to take a shower. Here’s the little bastard,” Hoseok thrust the rooster into her arms, sending her a wink before jogging off and into the house. 
“So, this isn’t unusual for you, Jimin? Chickens for your birthday? Honestly, where does my mother come up with these crackpot ideas? I mean we were going to get some chickens anyways, but this is just insanity. How many are there?” Y/N was rambling, feeling nervous about the whole horse situation. How would he react?
“I think there’s five hens. This is good, right? We’ll have fresh eggs soon!” Jimin was delighted, the stable only a few paces away. Jimin’s steps faltered, his ears alert, but he seemed to shake off whatever made him pause with disbelief on his face. 
“Alright, let’s get them in the pen. We’ll have to get some feed, your mother gave me some that’ll last for a few days,” Jimin started plucking chickens out of the wagon, setting them down in the grass while Y/N scattered food by the coop. Just then, Vista whinnied from within the stable, as if sensing her old owner. This time, Jimin flinched, staring at Y/N with round butterscotch eyes. 
“Um, happy birthday?” Y/N squeaked, Jimin springing into action and moving into a dead sprint, bolting into the stable with Y/N hardly able to keep up once she made sure the chickens couldn’t escape their pen. 
“Vista?!” Jimin exclaimed, standing in front of the stall his horse was in, all color drained from his face. “Y/N, is this? How did you?”
Jimin appeared to be on the verge of tears, entering the stall and stroking the horse’s mane with wonder. By his side now, Y/N watched an array of emotions wash over the coyote hybrid’s face. Her favorite, of course, was his joy.
“I just had to prove that I adopted you to the ranch, and they allowed me to have her brought here. I thought you’d like to be reunited,” Y/N revealed, the wind knocked out of her abruptly, Jimin grabbing her more roughly than he usually did and squeezing her into a fierce hug. So fierce, her feet were lifted off of the ground momentarily. 
“Well, why don’t you take her around some of the trails in the backyard? We’ve got saddles and everything,” Y/N breathed once he set her down, light tears still misting his eyes. Nodding enthusiastically, Jimin moved as if floating through air, gathering everything he’d need to prepare Vista for a ride. 
Jimin must have thanked her a thousand times before he let her out of his sight, but she insisted that she had to return to the house to resume helping Yoongi with lunch preparations. She watched as Jimin began to speak softly to Vista, his sandy tail swishing back and forth happily, before Y/N headed back into the house with a face-splitting smile. 
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“Ooh, Freddy Kruger? How scary,” Y/N bent down to plop a couple of peanut butter cups into the little kid’s treat basket, holding onto her pointed witch hat as she did so. 
Halloween evening, her favorite night of the year, was turning out to be lively, and her house was ever-so-popular. Between all of the hybrids, some in costumes (Yoongi was Scarface, Hoseok dressed up as a pirate) and the lavishly decorated house, Y/N was practically stationed at the front door constantly with her large plastic cauldron full of candy to hang out. Assisting her was Seokjin, who was wearing a headband with little red devil horns. The kids absolutely loved him. 
“Isn’t tonight a special holiday for you? Samhain?” Seokjin spoke up during a rare moment without kids on the porch, his voice floating over the cheesy Halloween music Y/N had pulsing from her portable speaker. 
“Yeah, it is! You remembered,” Y/N cooed, adjusting the askew headband perched on his crown. “I set up an altar this morning in my room. Mostly, I just wanted to light some candles for my ancestors and put out offerings. I’m going to celebrate for a few more days, too… Samhain, Halloween, it’s a state of mind.”
Giggling at the goofy voice she used during her last statement, Seokjin perked up, a little girl in an Elsa costume bumbling up the porch steps for candy. The jaguar hybrid complimented her costume, offering her some packets of M&Ms. Shyly accepting them, the girl stared at Seokjin with awe before hurrying back to her parents on the street. 
“Y/N, we have a situation,” Yoongi lightly tapped on her shoulder from behind, standing on the threshold of the front door. Gazing upwards, catching the plastic gold chain Yoongi was wearing with his costume, she immediately sobered up upon seeing his distressed expression. 
“What happened, angel? Seokjin, can you take over for a few minutes, honey?” Y/N stood, following Yoongi into the house after he nodded. In the house, she sensed something off right away– there was shouting coming from the parlor. 
“It’s Jeongguk and Namjoon. They picked a fight with Hoseok–”
“Out of my fucking way, I’m outta here,” Jeongguk barked, and the sound of the slider in the kitchen slamming shut as Jeongguk stormed out of the house. 
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Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @sometingreallycool
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gh0st-t0wn3 · 3 months
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I finally had time to make proper designs for the Trio!
Redson: Ver 1
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Ver 2
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I couldn't decide on if I liked it better with the braids or not so I just posted both, but anyways!
I gotta admit, I used to not like the idea of redson having Bull features (except for a small pair of horn maybe) but the concept really grew on me and now I really love it and wanted to try making my own design and I'm really proud with how it turned out.
I would've added more scars, since Guanyins throne pierced his entire body, but there came a point where it just looked like there was too much going on so I had to get rid of a few scars to tone it down, so we're just gonna say they faded over time, okay? Okay.
I also made him Miao (one of the largest ethnic minorities in southwest China) on PIF's side, and Mongolian on DBK's.
The Miao ethnicity of China has a long history, rich culture, and an ancient folk religion. Adorned in beautiful traditional clothes, possessing natural talent for singing and dancing, they live in uniquely designed indigenous architecture, which I think fits perfectly with how I imagined Princess Iron Fan and with her; Redson.
As for DBK being Mongolian, I saw someone else talking about this headcanon and I just liked it so I decided to use it, I don't really have a specific reason for it, I just thought it fit, not sure why though, it's just one of those things that makes sense even if you don't know why, you know?
Mei:
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I made her taller and gave her a long dragon tail (like really long, it drags along the floor if she's not holding it up), though her scales are pretty much everywhere across her body they're most noticeable on her shoulders, thighs, and face (they're a bit hard to see in this photo because they're kinda hidden behind her hair, but I did give her scales beside her eyes)
I also gave her horns these little spiral designs around them, gave her sharper nails, and designed her ears to look like coral, since she's a water dragon and I thought they looked cool.
Honestly idk what else to say about her design, I didn't have anything specific in mind when designing her, I kinda just had to wing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)
(I also made her Bengali, on her dad's side, but it's not really important or has any reason behind it, just a headcanon I've had for a while, don't know where it came from though)
MK:
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Alot of people have speculated that the monkey form we see during the fight against Azure in season 4 isn't MK's full form yet, that we're just seeing a fraction of what he's yet to become, based on the fact that while he has the weird side burns, the tail and the face marking, he also lacks a natural skin tone, they didn't give him a proper nose etc, so I wanted to play with the idea.
I decided to make him this strange mix between human and monkey, leaving him pretty much human with the addition of his tail(s), and weird li'l monkey feet.
(I was also gonna give MK more arm/leg hair, it was in my first sketch, but I forgot to add them when I was doing the line art and didn't realize until after I saved it as a jpeg, so that's my bad, but I'm gonna add it in to any other art I make)
It's also a bit hard to see in this, but I designed his staff with more details, specifically adding dragon-esque imagery to the Golden ends, this is because (for anyone who's new to the fandom/hasn't read JTTW) Wukong's staff was originally one of the several pillars that held up the sea in the dragon palace, until he stole it and shrunk it down to use as his weapon.
I also did MK's clones :)
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Porty MK:
I gave him stripes of coloured hair and gave his tails all different colours, though I don't think he would actually dye it, instead I like to think that he would use that really crappy dollar store spray in hair dye (or hair chalk). I kept the fishnet clothes that I added in my originally design of him for my headcanons post, and decided to give him striped elbow length fingerless gloves.
I also gave him a cropped shirt, ripped shorts and these weird fingerless glove-esque shoes for convenience, since regular shows seem like they would be uncomfortable.
Edit: my dumbass forgot Porty's stupid print jacket 😭
Artist MK:
For Artist MK I gave him overalls and a jacket over it, which he wears specifically for when he's doing paintings so he doesn't ruin too many of his actual clothes (I know I said that this was inspod by Circusapple, which it still is, but this is almost exactly what I wear when I'm painting too, just in different colours).
I also gave him those gloves that digital artists wear so they're hands don't accidently trigger something on the screen because everyone knows that every artist just walks around with their art glove on even when it's not necessary.
Delivery MK:
I have to admit, I was never a big fan of MK's work uniform just being his regular clothes with a work jacket thrown over it so I wanted to try and make him look a little more professional and decided to instead give him a chef coat (similar to the one Pigsy wears on the show as well), with a logo for the restaurant on the chest, along with it I gave him plain black pants, since casual red jeans didn't seem very professional (I know he's just a delivery person, but if you were to look at pretty much any food corporation, even people who do deliveries have to wear uniform, so it's always been kinda strange to me that he's just in regular clothes). 
The shoes were harder to make professional given the whole "half-monkey" thing so I opted to give him the same strange fingerless glove-esque shoes for comfort and convenience, but made them plain black as well.
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randomshyperson · 4 months
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Fluorescent Adolescent - Heart Shaped Series
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Chapter Summary: Layla's presence brings back some ghosts from your past and for the first time, you want to include Wanda in everything.
Warnings: Typical canon violence, mentions of blood, stitches, and pregnancy nausea, talking about abusive environments (innuendo of different forms of exploration), mild angsty with a bit of comedy as well, some Blackhill drama too | Words: 6.935k
A/N-> This chapter is a bit longer but I tried to put more characters background on it. I know it's late, I've been struggling with my writer's block, but it's finally here. I'm also sorry there's no smut on this one, but the chapter mood was not a sexy one. We will be back to our normal schedule I promise. Also, the extra chapter with their first kiss is almost ready as well! So hopefully, the next update won't take that long.
General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist
-&-
“Do you really have to do that?”
The question drew a confused laugh from you. With your hands busy with a first aid kit borrowed from Natasha, you can only offer a look to your girlfriend.
"Yes?"
But Wanda snorted stubbornly, crossing her arms before stopping in the doorway of the bathroom in Black Widow's room, who was standing outside with the rest of the team. You were supposed to go back outside right away before Layla had a nervous breakdown at being left with the entire Avengers team while you grabbed the kit to fix your own reaction to seeing her and ending up hurting her.
"I just don't understand why you have to do the bandage. Can't you ask Nat or any of them?" Wanda insisted, sounding very irritated and you had no idea why.
"Well, Layla only trusts me of all the people present and I'm the one who threw her against a snack machine." You half-heartedly explain the whole thing. "If you'll excuse me, sweetheart."
Wanda gave you the room but did so with a grimace that you would probably try to understand later. She's been acting so weird ever since your partner arrived, but Layla's presence is making you worried enough. You'd talk to Wanda after you understood exactly what the other woman was doing here.
Outside, and in the outer courtyard that was more isolated from the rest of the motel, Layla was sitting at one of the tables with the Avengers doing a poor job of disguising the fact that they were on alert for her. Sitting down, her jacket was laid beside her, and she was wearing a tank top that exposed the redness of her new bruise and made you groan low in guilt. Wanda, who hadn't left your trail since Layla appeared, glared at you as soon as she caught the sound.
For the witch, she didn't see the bruise but the beautiful woman with well-defined muscles, a tight tank top and curls that made her look even more attractive than before. And you, who apparently had a long-term relationship with the curly woman and were friendly enough for her to come looking for you.
You didn't even notice the look Wanda gave you, busy opening the kit and mumbling apologies to Layla in Arabic that made Wanda spend the next few minutes imagining you learning another language just to talk to your friend.
She was so distracted by her own neuroses that she didn't notice Natasha approaching, and leaning on the pillar she was also resting on.
"Wow, if looks could kill..." teased the widow, but Wanda snorted lowly, ignoring the phrase and trying to pretend she wasn't watching you pull whatever piece of glass the machine left behind in Layla's back, while you whispered apologies to her for it. 
Natasha chuckled at the witch's expression and wasn't intimidated by her aggressive attitude. It surprised her that Wanda, a moment later, was the one who started the conversation.
"Do you think they seem close?"
You had just pressed a cotton pad with alcohol on Layla's wound, and because you were sitting next to her, the woman, grunting in pain, instinctively grabbed your thigh. 
Nat raised an eyebrow.
"I bet you ten bucks they've slept together." Replied the widow, and Wanda grunted in disgust before turning away from the scene. Natasha giggled. "Hey, I'm joking."
"Whatever, I'd better get out of here before I blow something up." Muttered the witch in a frown, practically running away from the scene.
Natasha sighed, regretting having taken the provocation too far. She took one last look at you and Layla before turning back to Steve and Sam on the other side of the courtyard.
You were just finishing sewing the few stitches on Layla's shoulder when she called your attention.
"Sorry, I promise I'm almost done-"
"It's not that, يا حلو (sweetie)." She interrupts gently. "I don't think your girlfriend likes me."
You smile, unable to take your eyes off the stitches you're closing. "Don't be silly, Wanda doesn't know you well enough." You retort. " She'll need at least a few days not to like you."
Layla chuckles, pinching you gently for the joke. You finish the stitches next, and as you assess the work to make sure they won't open, she speaks again.
"I've been looking for you."  Layla's tone is a little upset, and it surprises you. You look at her, but she continues to stare at the team from a distance. "I thought you might have been kidnapped. Or even killed. I almost went to Valentina to ask." You swallow, ready to apologize when Layla finally looks at you. "And all this time you've been playing superhero with your new friends?"
"Layla, it's nothing like that."
"So what's it like?" She demands with a hard stare. You sigh, hesitating about taking it all in like that, and Layla studies you intently. When she speaks again, it's in another language that she hopes no prying ears can understand. "هل هي مهمة أخرى؟ (Is it another assignment)?"
You look back at Natasha talking to Sam and of course she would know Arabic, but she didn't really seem to be paying attention to the conversation.
Either way, you face Layla and and denies it with your head. You sigh once more before forcing a smile at her. "I'm not here on business."
Layla doesn't seem to believe your words. "Come on, I'm not going to torment you if your girlfriend asked you to steal something for them." She shrugged. "I even heard that they're being treated like criminals now. Decided to act on their own, huh?"
You don't answer right away. You occupy your hands with the bloodstained cotton and the needle thread, saving what can be reused, like the alcohol, and throwing away the rest.
When you return to the table where Layla is still exchanging hard looks in the direction of the Avengers, you lean over to talk to her.
"Valentina didn't send me here." You say. "Like I said, it's not about work. Me and Wanda, we're together for real."
Despite the tense exchange between her and the rest of the team, excitement shines through her irises and she looks at you with wide, surprised eyes, a smile playing on her lips.
"Oh, you didn't say."
You chuckle shyly, looking away from your colleague. "Shut up."
"No, I mean it." She giggles. "Damn, I think I owe Xu Xialing some money." You frown in confusion, and Layla sighs. "She bet you'd put a ring on it before the end of the year, and here we are."
Your ears heat up, but you roll your eyes. "I can't believe you bet on me."
Layla chuckles, gently bumping her good shoulder against yours. "Come on, what do you expect from the founder of the Golden Daggers? She breathes gambling. You got really drunk after the last championship and started whining about how much you missed your little Sokovian witch. I wasn't expecting to owe Xialing 20,000 Yuan either, but here we are."
It's your turn to laugh, covering your face for a moment. "And how is she? Xu Xialing?"
Layla snorts softly, shrugging. "Honestly, I have no idea. But if the club is still standing, then she must be fine."
"You should visit her."
"Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you." Layla retorts somewhat ironically, and you hesitate, looking away. "What? Why are you acting so weird?"
You chuckled weakly, trying to gather your courage. Finally, you take a deep breath and say. "I'm not going to do these things anymore, Layla. Nothing we did together. Robberies, fights, the club. None of it. I want out."
But it doesn't take Layla by surprise. She remains silent before looking away.
"I guess I expected that."
You frown. "Really?"
Layla chuckles, looking at you again. "Yeah. Since the day you arrived from Italy, acting so... quirky."
"I wouldn't use that word."
"I thought it would be rude to call you a simp." 
You chuckle, shaking your head. Layla laughs too, before leaning her good shoulder against yours. It's an affectionate gesture, which she used to do a lot when you were on long robberies and so exhausted that the world would stop making sense. The touch was a way of anchoring each other back to reality.
"You could have told me." She says gently, even if the words hide a certain disappointment. 
You swallow, looking down at your shoes. "I was afraid, I guess." You mumble, and she frowns in confusion. You sigh sadly. "I'm not good with these things, Layla. You're my work partner. I thought, if I'm not working anymore, I'll lose you. I just... didn't want that. It was easier not saying anything."
Layla reaches over to entwine her arm in yours and take your hand. "You're an idiot."
"Thanks." You mumble, but she chuckles, squeezing your fingers for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Y/N." She says and you look at her curiously. She sighs. "For giving you the impression that we were just work colleagues. You're my friend. You've always been my friend."
You smile, ignoring the sudden urge to cry. 
"I'm sorry I didn't call." You mumble. "I didn't want to worry you."
"Nah, it's fine." She assures you with a smile. "It's like Bulgaria all over again. I should have waited for backup, but all I ended up doing was calling you for help. I don't think I'll ever get over the fact that you got me out of that basement wearing the Chief of Government's face." You chuckle nostalgically at the story of what was probably the moment when your friendship and partnership with Layla was settled. 
"You want to get even? Tell Valentina about me." It's supposed to be a joke, but it immediately makes Layla tense up.
She opens her mouth to say something, but suddenly there's a backpack slamming into her lap. 
"Your things are in one piece again." It's Wanda, angry and with red eyes that make Layla frown with some concern. The remnants of her magic leaving the backpack also signal that Wanda has repaired anything broken by the impact earlier. "You can leave now."
You only realized you were still holding Layla's hand because Wanda was looking directly at it. It was your friend who let go first, chuckling weakly at the whole thing while you tried to understand exactly why Wanda seemed about to murder someone.
"Thanks for fixing my stuff, but I still have a few things to discuss with my partner." Layla replies with a shrug, her backpack in her hands. "I'll get something to eat first, I'm starving."
But Wanda steps forward. "There are some great restaurants on the road."
The curly gives a confused snort at the hostility, but you get to your feet before your friend ends up giving a rude answer to a witch who could do a lot worse than push her against a snack machine.
You enter Wanda's field of vision, and much of the fury disappears from her gaze. 
"Hey, can we talk?" You ask, and the witch gives the thief one last angry look before allowing herself to be taken to a far corner of the courtyard. You sigh softly as soon as you're alone with her. "What was that all about, Wanda?"
She crosses her arms, her jaw clenched. It's so unfair that Wanda always finds ways to make herself more attractive. 
"You told me you didn't have any friends, but you seem very close to that woman."
You hesitate, and that doesn't help your situation. Wanda narrows her eyes at you, and you try not to look intimidated under her red irises.
"It's complicated."
" It's better not to be, darling, because if she touches you again I swear I'll-"
"Wow, you're jealous." You interrupt her sentence as you realize it, a laugh escaping you. "Holy shit, you really are."
Wanda doesn't reply, rolling her eyes and looking away, but you stare at her with a certain intensity. 
"No one's ever been jealous of me before." You confess quietly, and despite the color in her cheeks, she looks at you with irritation.
"Stop it." She retorts. "That's not a good thing. You shouldn't try to look on the bright side, I'm not… “ She takes a deep breath, as if trying to calm her nerves. Then, she tries to smile. “I'm just being silly. You should say that."
You chuckle. One of your hands moves up to brush the rebellious strands of hair out of front of her eyes.
"Alright, I'll try. Wanda, you're being silly. There's no reason to be jealous. Better? I kinda sound like those movie characters."
Wanda grunted in frustration, hiding her face in your chest afterward. "It's not fair." She mutters, her voice muffled in your clothes as your hands wrap around her shoulders. "She was all over you, and I can't even be mad at you for being clueless."
You sigh, without breaking the embrace, trying to explain further:
"It was a friendly gesture, I promise. It's nothing like when we hold hands. When Layla and I would go on missions together, sometimes we'd spend so long hiding, rationing food while injured, that we'd start to get a little crazy. The touch would ground us again. She reached out to my hand because I told her I wasn't going to work with her anymore."
Wanda breaks the embrace to look at you. "Because you're staying with me."
You smile and nod. "That's right, darling. Just like I promised."
The witch sighs, sinking her face into your chest again for a long moment. You don't mind and stroke her hair until Wanda ignores the insecurities that have arisen and relies only on you.
She's still hugging you when she mutters: "I'm sorry for snapping at your friend. I'll apologize to her too."
"It's okay, I doubt Layla took it to heart." You mutter, and Wanda breaks the hug to look you in the eye.
"What does she still have to discuss with you?" The witch asked more seriously, with a different kind of concern rather than jealousy now.
You force a smile. "Let's find out." 
The new information you passed on to Layla about running away seemed to have some kind of effect on her because when you and Wanda found her again, she was chatting amiably with the rest of the Avengers. Wanda had the impression that Sam was actually flirting with her and felt some weight leave her shoulders even though you had assured her that there was nothing between you. 
With the most sympathetic exchange between Layla and the rest of the team, she was invited to stay - Of course, she didn't miss the opportunity to make a few jokes on earth mighty heroes having lunch with criminals, but everyone took it as a joke. And shortly after eating, Wanda noticed that the two of you exchanged a look that meant it was time to talk.
She was ready to deal with her own jealous insecurities when you, who had been by her side all lunch, leaned over to kiss her cheek.
"Come on, love, let's go for a walk with Layla." It's an invitation, not just to talk, but to a part of your life that Wanda has never seen. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to control her anxiety, and it helps a little by the look of reassurance that Natasha throws her from across the table.  
Layla, now with the bandage securely sewn up, is wearing a jacket again and dark glasses that make her look too cool even for the fugitive Avengers. 
Wanda wishes she wasn't so nice and clever in her jokes and comments during lunch either, so it would be easier to hate her.
So far, she has only been able to understand exactly why you were friends.
"I gotta catch a bus, come on." Layla says as soon as you're on your feet. There's no bigger goodbye for the Avengers than a nod, and it makes sense since despite the polite exchange, they're not friends and Layla is still on the wanted list.
You keep your hand intertwined with Wanda's, and at a slow pace, you accompany Layla to the nearest bus stop.
"It's quite of sad you couln't get a car, my friend." You tease, earning a short laugh from Layla. Even though you can't see behind her glasses, you're sure she rolled her eyes.
"I couldn't bring my bike straight here from across the globe, and I wasn't going to attract unwanted attention by stealing a new one." She explains casually. "Besides, there's decent public transportation around here." She winks at you and Wanda. "I will survive."
You reach the bus stop on the corner, it's completely empty but that's not atypical for a corner motel in an isolated place.
Wanda decides to sit on one of the benches, and even though you're standing, you don't occupy her view or try to exclude her from the conversation. You lean against one of the railings and cross your arms, offering Wanda a small smile before facing Layla.
"So, Miss El-Faouly, how fucked am I?"
She chuckles, shaking her head.
"I told you, Valentina doesn't know you ran away." She retorts. "Not yet."
You sigh, and Wanda bites the inside of your cheek. She has so many questions, but you think it's best not to interrupt. 
"What does she know?"
Layla shrugs. "She probably thinks you're having another morality crisis." The woman retorts, stealing a few glances down the street. "You've been away before. A few times on vacation, yes? But she'll know what you're up to if you don't come back soon."
You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You laugh humorlessly. "Actually, I've just missed the deadline. It's Tuesday, which means that officially, this is my longest period without contact after a mission. I guess she hadn't come to me yet because what I picked up in Greece arrived in the mail."
Wanda doesn't ask - not about what you were stealing before you joined her. The connection, the freshly healed bullet wound you had when you arrived. She knew you were working. 
Layla steals a glance at the witch before clearing her throat.
"What if... you came back?" Your expression hardens immediately, but Layla clarifies; "Just to talk to Valentina, Y/N."
"No, Layla."
"She'll make things more difficult if she knows you've just left. You know that. If only-"
"It's out of the question."
"God, why are you being so stubborn?" Layla replies a little impatiently, her eyes studying you. "Your superhero girlfriend will be fine for a few days without you!"
"Layla." You cut in more seriously, and the girl snorts angrily but doesn't insist. Exchanging a glance with Wanda, you soften your tone. "I'm not leaving her, Layla. I can't, it's not right. Wanda, she... she's pregnant."
Layla widens her eyes, looking between the two of you in shock. "What? Really? And it's yours?"
You and Wanda choke at the same time. With her ears slightly reddened, she gives your friend a deadly stare. "Of course it is!"
The thief shakes her head quickly. "I didn't mean it like that!" She tries quickly. "I just... I didn't know you could, Y/N."
You sigh wearily. "I can transform into any Caborn-based form and you think I'm unlikely to have children?" 
But Layla rolls her eyes, suddenly a little hesitant. "That's not what I meant either." She mutters. "I just assumed... you couldn't. Not after all they've done to you..."
But you clear your throat, get to your feet and Layla falls silent. Wanda frowns in curiosity at the interaction, but you're delivering something to your friend.
"Here, for Lagaro. For all the trouble." You hand over your watch and Layla grimaces.
"And my trouble?"
You chuckle. "Af if  you weren't dying to see me."
Wanda clears her throat, and you take a step away from Layla before your girlfriend loses her temper again. The curly doesn't notice, busy putting your watch back in her pocket and checking the street again.
"Lagaro will be happy to know you're not dead, Y/N. Not just with the watch." Your friend comments and you nod, moving closer to Wanda to rest one of your arms on her shoulder. You're trying to relax the tension that has arisen there. When Layla looks at you again, her expression is more serious. "Think about what I said. I understand why you can't leave her, I really do. I guess it's the same idea with Marc disappearing to protect me."
You smile. "Marc disappears because he's an idiot, you should have married someone more... present." Layla raises her middle finger at you, but Wanda suddenly feels very silly knowing that all this time, your friend was married.
There's a bus approaching on the corner, Layla sighs as she sees it stop at a red light. She then offers you two a smile.
"Despite the circumstances, I'm really happy for you both." She assures you with sparkling eyes. "Just... be safe, darling. Okay?"
As she hugs you, she whispers something that Wanda doesn't hear and has to ignore the instinct to ask. She doesn't want to pry, but she feels so curious that she almost uses her powers to find out.
Instead, she also says goodbye to Layla and the two of you watch the woman get on the bus and leave.
Once you're alone, you entwine your hands together again and give Wanda a small smile.
"I can almost hear the gears in your mind working, baby." You tell her gently, and Wanda sighs. "You know you can ask me anything, don't you?
She nods, before looking around to see the growing number of lunchtime passers-by. With another sigh, she faces you.
"Let's go back inside."
It's a silent, tense walk back. You can sense that Wanda is nervous, and you fear that she's insecure again, about trusting you, about feeling left out.
The Avengers are no longer outside, whether they're back in their own rooms or out for a walk, you don't need to give any excuses about Layla's quick farewell. 
Wanda enters first, and as you close the door, she crosses her arms and waits in the center of the room.
With a sigh, you speak first. "Come on, darling, ask me anything you want." You try to sound as gentle as you can, yet Wanda seems very nervous.
"I've spent so much time studying you. Your missions, your deeds, your disguises." She begins. "Still, I feel like I don't know anything."
"Well, that's because I'm good at what I do." Wanda looks at you seriously and you sigh, forcing yourself to act more serious about the whole thing. "Sweetheart, you know me. You know me more than anyone else."
You try to touch her cheek, but Wanda pulls away. "You say that, but I don't think it's true." She fights back annoyed. "I didn't even know about Layla. What else are you hiding?"
You frown in surprise at the accusation. But instead of starting a fight, you swallow dry. "I wasn't hiding. This is hard for me. I can't just dump my life on you. Sharing... doesn't come naturally to someone like me."
Wanda looks down, a little uncertain. "I just want you to trust me."
"And I do." You assure her, stepping forward to touch her shoulders. This time, she almost melts into your touch. "Look at me, I've been an wanted criminal for as long as I can remember, but I'm here, in a hotel surrounded by avengers, just to be with you. I want to be with you, no matter the risk, no matter what. Not only do I trust you, but I love you. Do you understand what I'm saying? You not knowing all the details of my past, of my work, doesn't make it any less true."
Wanda takes a deep breath and lets her forehead fall to yours. You stroke her shoulders, thinking about breaking the distance when suddely she moves away.
"You really have to go, don't you?" She asks with tears in her eyes, and you feel your stomach sink. You shake your head immediately, but something in your gaze makes Wanda's tears start to fall.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Y/N."
"I'll find another way." You assure her, but she turns her back, wiping her face and sitting down on the bed. Wanda hugs her own body and you let your arms fall by your sides. Seeing her cry is always the worst, and for a second, you let your anger get the better of you. "What? Do you want me to leave by any chance?"
Wanda lets out a tearful laugh. "Don't do that."
You snort angrily. "I'm telling you that I want to stay, that I am going to stay. And you're crying, as if you're sure I'm going to leave. I don't like being called a liar, Wanda."
She shakes her head. "Stop."
"No, you stop. I'm telling you something, but you're acting as if I'm going to abandon you. As if you were sure. Do you really think so little of me?"
Wanda chokes, raising pleading eyes to you.
"Of course not!" she retorts. "Don't say that."
The seriousness in her gaze makes you feel ashamed that you'd even considered such a thing. You prepare to apologize, but Wanda speaks again.
"It's your thoughts." She mutters, now she's the one who looks ashamed as she gazes at the floor. "Your mind is screaming that. You're so worried, I can easily hear it."
"Wanda, I...
"It's okay." She cuts in with a tearful voice. "I'm not angry, I think I get it. You don't want to put me in danger, but I'd like you to understand that you don't have to worry about it. I can protect us both."
You chuckle weakly, looking down at your feet. "That sounds lovely, but the last time I left you, you ended up in the Raft, darling. I don't want that to happen ever again."
"And it won't."
"You don't know that." You retort, moving closer to kneel in front of her. Your hands search for hers. "I won't leave you again, Wanda. Not like I used to do to get back to work. We're in this together. Can you please believe me?"
Wanda lets go of one of her hands to stroke the loose strands of hair away from your face. "Why is it so hard for you to get away from Valentina?" She asks, and the red irises explain why she can read the insecurities in your mind. You hesitate, but when you make a move to pull away, the grip on your hand tightens. "What's different between escaping her and escaping Hydra?"
But the hesitation in your eyes turned to confusion. "Escape Hydra? Wanda, I've never escaped them."
It was then her turn to be confused. "B-but I thought... your records. You haven't worked with Strucker for years. I assume-"
"That I just left them? Like you did?" You add, suddenly upset. Wanda says nothing and allows you to let go of her hand to sit down next to her on the bed. You sigh before speaking again. "I never ran away from Hydra, Wanda. My program was a success. And because of that fact, Strucker was allowed to command yours." You say, without meeting her gaze, your hands fiddling with the loose threads of your jeans. "Even if he made mistakes, even if volunteers kept dying, he could still be in charge. Because it worked for me, so it would work for others."
"What happened to you?" she risks asking and you sniffle.
"What happens to valuable merchandise, of course." You reply darkly. "I was sold." Wanda chokes softly, but you force a sad smile and keep talking. "I was 10, maybe younger. The program was complete, Strucker decided it was time to show off his new triumph. At his request, I created my first fixed identity at that time, to make it easier to find clients. To have a trademark, I guess. But with each buyer, they wanted something different. The Slayer, Mighty Samuel, Scorpion, Dark Diamond, any weird name they wanted. Any face they needed. For any service they paid for." The way your jaw tenses makes Wanda understand what is hidden between your words. Everything that was left out of the Shield and Avengers files, simply because they didn't know you were all those people.
Wanda reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers together. "If it's too painful, you don't have to talk about it."
You squeeze back, shaking your head. "No, it's fine. I can talk about it, it's been a while. And Val, hm, she put me in therapy for a while. So I could talk about the program, my past, for her records."
"Tell me about her." Wanda asks because this doesn't just sound like a contractor and employee relationship. You sigh, nodding.
"I was 16 when the CIA caught up with me. It was no challenge, of course. But the agent who found me, Valentina Fontaine, had intel on me. At the time, Hydra and Shield shared the same name, so I couldn't tell who was a friend so easily. But Valentina? Oh, she knew a lot. She didn't care about the coats of arms one would wear, she just had a particular interest in special individuals. But she didn't approve of the way I was being enslaved. Barbaric she called. She charmed me, so, so easily. She was always very good with words. Manipulative. She got me to take her to my owner at the time, said she would give me my freedom." You sighed tiredly. "But when I took her to him, the rest of her team revealed themselves. They killed anyone who tried to fight and imprisoned the rest. My master, my boss." You correct yourself as you feel Wanda complains about the title. "He swore he was going to kill me for the betrayal. So Val shot him in front of me, and said that from then on, I owed her my life."
"You don't owe her anything. You know that, don't you?" Wanda retorts immediately, but you move uncomfortably as if the idea was already craved in your mind, and remind Wanda of how Bucky feels about the Winter Soldier and everything Hydra has put him through.
"I can think about it rationally, but practically? No, it's not that simple." You murmur, adjusting yourself to turn your whole body towards Wanda, your fingers playing with hers. "Valentina didn't use me, not like the others did. She bought me a place, gave me a name." You laugh weakly. "Of course, she couldn't say she'd got me in a dirty shed in Madripoor. No, she had to lie. She let me be Lady Fontaine, a distant relative of hers. She paid me very well for any service. I could travel wherever I wanted, have my own teams. I was free."
"As long as you kept working for her."
You swallow, agreeing. "Yeah, as long as I kept doing the job." You mutter. "But for someone like me, the life I had before, the deal was not bad, not at all. The whole sense of freedom. But then... I met you. Suddenly all those expensive things I could buy, all the adrenaline of a new robbery, everything stopped making sense if I didn't have you by my side.”
Wanda smiles tenderly, leaning in to steal a kiss from you. It's quick, but deep enough to make you sigh against her lips.
"Nothing and no one will ever keep us apart again, detka. I promise." Wanda whispers, her arms going to your shoulders so she can hug you and sit on your lap. You melt into the warm sensation, hugging her back with the same intensity.
It takes you by surprise, of course, and a moment later, Wanda hurries away.
"Is something wrong?" But she's already stumbling out of bed, running for the bathroom. "Wanda?" You barely get to your feet and hear her throwing up. First, your body goes into full alert, and then you sigh and relax as you remember: Pregnant girlfriend.
When you reach the door, it slams shut in your face, still shining with red magic. You chuckle.
"Don't come in here. It's disgusting." Wanda grumbles from inside, but you shake your head in disbelief and open the door, reaching up to hold her hair, calming any protests with a caress on her back as Wanda flushes all her lunch down the toilet. 
"Can I run you a hot bath?" you suggest, still holding her hair. Wanda nods weakly, and you smile briefly.
You walk away to the bathtub while hoping that her state is enough for her not to notice your racing thoughts about keeping a pregnant woman in those conditions. 
-&-
Wanda gets shot in the stomach. You wake up with a jolt.
The motel room is poorly lit, and you realize you've fallen asleep sitting up. Wanda sleeps deeply beside you, and you sigh before leaving the bed.
The bathroom light is the only one on in the room and gives away the previous activities - Wanda's nauseated state for almost the entire night. Perhaps the events were the reason for your nightmares.
Knowing that your girlfriend would easily notice your discomfort and end up waking up due to the nature of her powers, you left the room to get some air, and maybe push those thoughts away.
Given the time of night, the motel was quiet. But the figure smoking on the balcony made you take a deep breath.
"Hi, Nat."
The widow wasn't startled, she'd probably heard you coming out. She mumbled the greeting back, taking a long drag before offering the item to you. Your response was a dismissive nod.
"Sorry about the smoke." She says, and you scratch your eyes for a moment, shrugging in a sign that you weren't really bothered by it. 
The next moment, you ask: "Rough night?"
Natasha gives a small laugh. "You have no idea." She retorts, attracting your curiosity. But the concern in her eyes is for Wanda's safety, she realizes, and quickly clarifies: "Nothing affecting your little witch, relax."
Despite feeling a weight leave your shoulders, you adjust your body towards the widow. "I know we're not friends and that this is a situation of necessity, but I'm grateful for the way you're keeping us safe. If there's anything I can do to help you with your problem, please don't hesitate to ask."
The sincerity of the words surprised her for a moment. And then, after another swallow, Nat laughs lightly and comments: "If you have any solution for a broken heart, I'll take it."
You frown, absorbing her words for a moment. Nat almost immediately looks away, busy smoking as if hoping that the cigarette would take away all the pain she was feeling. Your mind is racing with all the things you've been entrusted with about the widow, be it work-related or the little socializing of the last few months.
You don't have enough to know exactly what Natasha is saying, but it occurs to you that she must really need to speak to someone about it, at least enough to mention it to you.
"What happened?"
The next laugh that escapes her is a sad one. "Nothing you can fix it."
"I wasn't intending to anyway." You respond gently, offering her a smile. "I'm just here to listen. If you need to talk to someone."
"I have people to listen to me, thank you." She snaps back, and you sigh tiredly before stepping away from the edge.
You nod and retort; "All right, Romanoff, sorry for intruding." And you turn away, heading for the stairs. 
But from the balcony, Nat only lets you go down two steps before saying; "I was engaged. Past tense." And you raise a frown in surprise at her, only for Nat to sigh, looking like she's going to burst into tears at any moment. "Like I said, it's nothing you can help me with."
But you rest your waist on the railing and keep looking up. "I'm sorry, the Captain is an asshole-"
"What?" Nat cuts you off with a grimace. "I wasn't talking about Steve!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I assumed you two-" But Nat bursts into laughter, and you shut up. It's better that she's laughing than crying anyway. 
Wiping away tears of laughter, she shakes her head. "I understand why Wanda likes you. Your cluelessness is hilarious."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Nat chuckles briefly, taking one last drag before putting out her cigarette. She rests her elbows on the edge and looks down at you.
"Agent Hill was my fiancée." She explains, more gently than before. "We had a plan. One that didn't involve me switching sides and ending up fleeing across Europe."
You offer Nat a look of understanding. She sighs, looking away so you don't see her tears.
"Let me guess, Miss Hill believes you prioritized the Avengers over the life you planned together?"
Nat chuckles humorlessly, humming in agreement. She looks at you again with watery eyes. "Don't you think she's right?"
You sigh. "I think things are more complicated than that."
"They certainly are." Nat mutters tiredly. She swallows dryly, pushing her own emotions away before looking at you with a certain determination. It's going to be about you now. "How long are you going to keep this up, Y/N?"
It's your turn to sigh and cross your arms. Your gaze wanders away. Natasha decides to press.
"There are hundreds of bounties on you." She says. "You've annoyed too many people."
"I know." 
"And Wanda needs to see a doctor-"
"Natalia." You cut her off, and her given name catches her off guard. She falls silent, staring at you intently. You sigh. “"I'll go where Wanda goes. No more leaving. I'm tired of running away."
Natasha remains quiet and thoughtful for a long moment. When she suddenly laughs dryly and offers you the cigarette again, you think it's best to accept.
"I think I just got Maria's point." She mumbles in annoyance, and you're a little taken aback by the tears in her eyes. But you try to take a drag on the cigarette, and start coughing, and it works to make Nat laugh and help you instead of crying. She takes the cigarette back, and gives you one last pat on the back, her hand staying in place instead of moving away. "That girl loves you with all her heart, Y/N. She'll follow you if you ask her to, so I beg you, make your decisions with your head, not your heart. Don't put her in danger that you can't protect her from."
You look at Nat. "Do you think that's what you're doing for Maria? Protecting her?"
"This isn't about Maria and me."
But you pull away from Nat's touch, looking at her hard. "I think it is." You insist seriously. "I can't protect Wanda from anything, and I don't need to. She's infinitely more powerful than I am. And I certainly won't be plotting decisions without her. If she decides to leave with me, that's her choice. Not any of yours, and maybe that's the problem with the Avengers, huh? You have a bad habit of putting your members in no-win situations."
Nat forces a smile. "Yes, we're the ones who are wrong not to want Wanda running around with a thief." She ironizes it, and you swallow, your gaze tired and disappointed. Nat is upset, and well, you're the easiest target here. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. "Excuse me, for not wanting her in Madripoor, surrounded by the Chinese Mob!" 
You sniffle lightly, shaking your head. "Do you know who's in Madripoor, Natalia? Your old colleague, Sharon Carter. The one who sacrificed her career for what you and Steve did. The one who was abandoned by you two without hesitation. Just like Clint did it, for whom Wanda's twin brother died and for whom she accepted this position. He abandoned her without looking back. Because that's what the Avengers do for each other, isn't it?" you retort angrily. "But I am the villain. I'm the one who stays and takes care of Wanda no matter what and makes her my priority, and I'm still the wrong one. Even though I'm not the one who let her end up in a fucking straitjacket, locked up like an animal!"
You don't realize you're screaming, but for a whole moment, all you can see is that damn newspaper photo of how Wanda looked, how she was captured. Nat's cheeks are wet, but she doesn't lose her posture.
You chuckle humorlessly. "You've got a damn nerve acting like you're better than me, Romanoff. Especially you."
"Don't go there." She warns with a dangerous look, but you shake your head.
"What would be the point?" You retort. "I'm over the past, but I can't say the same for you. You're pushing Agent Hill away because you're afraid of who you were, you're afraid that anger is still there. You're not giving Maria the choice to love you completely. And I'm not going to make the same mistake with Wanda."
With one last hard look at Nat, you turn to leave. Deciding that you need to take a walk and calm your nerves before going back to your room.
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demonslayedher · 1 year
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Low-Key Married AU fluff
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Kochou said that I was disliked, so I asked her if she disliked me too. For someone so quick to have a smiling response to everything, she struggled to reply. She was the one who proposed marriage and swayed me, so I had thought that meant she had feelings for me. There would be no other way to read it. However, with as unbothered as she is by my absence, I have to wonder.
It’s been ten days since I had last contact with her. I went home to the Butterfly Mansion, but she had just departed for a mission, so I didn’t stay long so as not to trouble the girls. It may still be a few days before I can return again, but it’s always likely she’ll be busy. She’s incredible in that way, taking on all the care of our injured Corp members in addition to her Pillar missions. It must be in her personality to keep adding to what keeps her busy, like taking me in as though I looked like I needed the care. Although the times we’ve spent together have been nice, I don’t require it. My duties call for me to always be ready for battle, and I’ve always kept my heart steady.
So has she. We are Pillars first, and no amount of affection can sway us—whether an abundance or a lack.
I’m not bothered by lacking something I didn’t deserve in the first place.
Last night again, I was too late to prevent a family from being slaughtered. There were no survivors this time, aside from the eldest child who was still ravenous with a recent transformation. Having to chase him down and keep him from harming anyone else kept me off the trail of the progenitor of demons, who had to have been close by. For centuries, he’s evaded us this way over and over, sacrificing entire families to throw us off his trail. If I were to chide myself over every failure, I would have lost the ability to do anything ages ago. Each time, the anger is something I carry with me, to push myself harder the next time, and the next. Any extent more that I can push myself may be the difference to someone’s survival, no one can afford to lose their life over any of my own lost confidence.
“CAW!! TOMIOKA GIYUUUU! NEWS FOR TOMIOKA GIYUUUU!”
Each time it's a crow I think I recognize, my stomach drops. My mind is already playing the words I dread to hear, as though trying to protect my mind once I someday hear them.
"Kochou Shinobu has died."
Even if I hear them, I'm a Pillar first. That was what we promised each other. I'll always do as I must.
The crow says nothing as it delivers a letter.
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YES, YES, I KNOW, THIS FANDOM HAS TURNED ME INTO SHIPPER TRASH. For this pairing, it was more specifically my own joke AU which later bit me in the back and made me start really, really enjoying GiyuShino (which, for the record, I do not consider canon). Was throwing ideas back and forth with @reicchel again the other day and so here we are with ship content!
Part of the reason I love the Low-Key Married AU (in which it's mostly canon as usual, except that Shinobu and Giyuu have been married for over a year or so, and it's not a secret but they make such little deal about it that many people don't even know they're married) is that it's a frame through which to see every interaction and either make it really, really funny, or very, very, sad. Everything was supposed to be funny, but it keeps hurting, hahaha... aaahhhh.
For instance, in a regular romcom situation, it should be funny that Kanzaburo doesn't deliver all of Giyuu's letters. Knowing these two, who might had started this whole "well, we'll be a couple when we have time" thing by actively writing regular letters, this could had simply given the impression that the other person wasn't writing as much, so they both naturally decreased frequency to match. It's a little lonely, but neither one is going to push the other for more attention.
No!! I refuse to let this post end with angst! Time for omake!!!
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sturnioloshacker · 7 months
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in labour - a vinnie hacker short
a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended. i have no idea what it’s like to be pregnant or how labour works but i hope this is something along the lines of it!
summary: he may be stressed, but vinnie comforts you while you’re pushing out your little miracle 
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the air thickened with anticipation as nurses and midwifes surrounded you as the time came closer to pushing out your little miracle. vinnie stood by your side, tightly holding your hand as you cried in agony, the pain of the contractions suddenly getting all too much for you to handle. little beads of sweat lined vinnie’s forehead, the tense moment becoming real. with each push, your face contorted in pain and your lips contorted into all different shapes to scream and cry. vinnie was determined to be a pillar of strength, even though he himself is stressing out of his mind.
“you’re doing great, sweetheart. you’ve got this. i love you so much.”
“keep going, you’re so close. just a bit more and we’ll finally meet our sweet angel.”
you grabbed his hand even tighter as your breathing became ragged. vinnie fought the urge to look away, his own anxiety taking over. the beads of sweat slowly started falling down his forehead, the tension in the room getting heavier with every passing second. as the pushing became harder and more painful, vinnie took a deep breath and locked eyes with you, trying to channel all of his love and support.
“you’re doing so well, love. you’re so brave. i know it hurts but it will be over before you know it. i know that it’s also scary that we’re going to be with child soon but we’re in this together. We’ve got each other. i love you and i can’t wait to raise our little girl together.”
you managed a weak smile between pushes, finding peace in his words. the room echoed with the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, punctuated by her determined efforts. vinnie, though feeling the weight of the moment, kept his focus on her. 
“you're almost there, just a few more pushes." his voice cracked with emotion, but he maintained his composure.
in the final moments, the screams became whimpers as the newborn’s cries filled the room. vinnie’s legs wobbled as he made his way to the nearest chair. falling and sinking into it, he put his hands over his face, the emotions getting the better of him. the nurse placed your baby into your arms, your whimpers soon turning into tears of joy and happiness as you softly graze your fingertips over your little girl’s face. vinnie brings his wobbly self to you as he watches over his two beautiful girls, marvelling at the new chapter you both have just begun.
“just so you know, we’re sharing her. she’s my mummy too, don’t you forget it.”
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jotun-philosopher · 2 months
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Discworld/Good Omens parallels ramble
Exactly what it says on the tin! These are some fun little Discworld/Good Omens parallels that my brain picked up on at various times (usually 3 a.m. or thereabouts... Thanks, mum, for the persistent insomnia...)
Mild-to-moderate spoilers for Wyrd Sisters, Lords And Ladies, Men At Arms and Carpe Jugulum below the cut.
In A Life With Footnotes, the official biography of Terry Pratchett, Rob Wilkins mentions that when he was in school, a young Pterry wrote for English class a story (sadly lost to the mists of time) about orcs attacking a vicarage in full Jane-Austen-spoof fashion. Now, given how the Whickber Street Shopkeepers' Ball turned out, it seems reasonable to assume one of two things: a) Neil Gaiman did not know about this story when writing S2 and the parallel is an ineffably delightful coincidence (a bit unlikely) b) Neil Gaiman *did* know about this story when writing S2, and the nod to Pterry happened to work really well with the plot (seems a bit more likely). Either way, the parallel is there and giving me all of the warm fuzzies <3
There's an idea in Discworld, forming a significant part of the moral backbone of the series, that's very succinctly summed up by Granny Weatherwax in Carpe Jugulum: "[S]in [...] is when you treat people like things. Including yourself." This is absolutely at the core of what's wrong with Heaven and Hell and God and Satan in Good Omens; the leadership and culture of both organisations/cults treat everyone -- angels, demons and humans alike -- as disposable things to be used and toyed with and discarded or destroyed if they start having the temerity to be imperfect or form opinions or thoughts of their own.
There're two characters in Discworld who parallel Aziraphale surprisingly strongly: Magrat Garlick (of the Lancre witches) and Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch. -*Magrat is viewed as a bit of a soft, soppy 'wet hen' by the other witches, but she is still a witch, with all that that implies. She also has at least one scene in every book in which she appears where she does something extremely badass and witchy; for example, turning an ancient wooden door back into a tree, or (very pertinently to GO) delivering a literally iron-clad punch to the face of a villain who's mentally torturing her with her own insecurities. Likewise, Aziraphale seems to mostly be viewed as a bit dull and wimpy by the other angels we see (though Magrat still has the genuine respect of her witchy peers) but he is still an angel -- a Principality -- with all the powers, steadfast guardianship and bloody-minded stubbornness of that rank. The Metatrash might not be vulnerable to iron in the same way as Discworld elves, but you can bet that his attempt to break Aziraphale and bring him into line is going to backfire just as spectacularly! *For the parallel between Aziraphale and Captain (well, Corporal, at this point in the Discworld timeline) Carrot, the novel I have in mind is Men At Arms. At one point, Vimes is being held at crossbow-point by a villain, and has a bout of internal monologuing about how, if someone has you at their mercy, you'd better hope they're evil, because that way they'll take time to gloat and mock you so you'll have an opportunity to think of a way out; a good man will kill you with barely a word. Carrot does exactly that at the climax of the plot, putting his sword through the villain and the stone pillar behind said villain without saying a thing. Now, Aziraphale might not quite have Carrot's 'incorruptible pure pureness' tendencies, but he is -- for all his flaws -- a good person. If he knows that something needs to be done to prevent an evil outcome, he will DO it without hesitation. He knows how to use a sword, too, and if That Frickin' Elevator Smile Of Tranquil Fury is any indication, the Metatrash is in far deeper doodoo than he realises! Related to the above, The Smile also reminds me of the old adage, "beware the fury of a patient man." (Well, man-shaped being in this case...) Very appropriate for our careful, thoughtful angel -- it would not surprise me (much) if Metatron were to depart the plot of S3 with a flaming sword pinning him to one of Heaven's columns (probably won't happen, but I can dream, eh?)
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Hope you enjoyed reading all that :D
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thisisourlovestory · 5 months
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Safe and Sound
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Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU
Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.
Word count- 2.8k
Notes: Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy this one. My phone deleted half of it so I had to rewrite it but that worked in my favour and I think it’s better than it was
Chapter 3
The next morning I was awoken by knocking at my door. Assuming it to be Lysander I ignored it and took my sweet time getting ready, taking a long shower under burning water, brushing my teeth vigorously, loosely clipping back the front strands of my hair and slipping on a pale blue dress from the wardrobe in the wall before making my way to the dining area. I followed the smell of freshly cooked bacon and pancakes, my mouth watering as I sat down and took a few pancakes, stacking them up, cutting a slab of butter that melted as soon as I dropped it on top, drizzling sticky sweet syrup over them and layering bacon on top. I grabbed a fork and dug into my towering pillar of food, the salty bacon contrasting with the sugary syrup. I polished it off in no time at all and reached for the piles of jewel like fruits, stacked in tiny ceramic bowls in the centre of the table. I had just bit into a slice of watermelon, pink juice dripping down the corner of my mouth, when Mags walked in with Lysander who flaunted a garish purple and gold striped suit and he began to speak as loudly as ever as I quickly wiped my chin.
“Good morning!” My head hit the table.
“Goodness Y/N, did you not get enough sleep last night?” He asked, looking at me with slight concern.
“I'm fine thank you for asking,” I answered, “Just woke up a bit too early.” I rubbed my head, smiling sheepishly and his gaze softened.
“That simply won't do!” He exclaimed, “We need you to be on top form for when you’re in the arena.”
“Lysander.” I called out softly, interrupting what was sure to be a long tirade. “I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday. I don't know what I was thinking. I suppose, well I suppose I was just a little overwhelmed by all this. I hope you can forgive me. “ I twisted a strand of my hair in my fingers and he took the bait immediately. I could almost see what he was thinking. Such a kind girl, she must be terrified, very sweet of her to apologise. His eyes gained a look of sympathy as he raised a hand to his heart and walked over to me.
“It's quite alright dear, no need for apologies. I completely understand you must be feeling absolutely terrified of all this. You did such a kind thing volunteering for Miss Cresta, so selfless, dear and I’m sure she appreciates it very much.” I nodded, going back to my food, and he clapped. “Now that's all sorted out, we need a plan for you.” He looked me up and down, assessing me as Mags grinned into her bowl at the look on my face. “I'm thinking we play the innocent card, the fact you were so young when you won will help with that a lot. You are one of the youngest in the games this year after all. We simply must also use the fact that you are a true performer and ballet is such a beautiful art form indeed so,” he turned to Mags, “I propose we paint her as an angel.”
I choked on a piece of watermelon, the apprehension on my face giving way to horror. Mags patted me gently on the back and I straightened in my seat, sending a grateful smile her way as Lysander continued, lost in his own world.
“Of course only your stylist can decide this but I’m fairly certain I can put in a word and if they didn't already have the same idea after watching the reaping then I'll eat my hat.” I eyed the purple monstrosity on his head and imagined it being stuffed into his mouth, wondering if maybe that would be the thing that would finally shut him up. I wanted to scream at him, tell him that I was no angel and he was a monster for finding some kind of pleasure in this, deciding what part I should play as I die. Instead I just smiled slightly and lowered my head to stop him from seeing the tears in my eyes. At that second Finnick walked in and Lysander's attention was immediately drawn to him. I sat silently as he practically interrogated him, asking how he was feeling, if he thought he could win. The answers were short, not letting anything interesting slip but giving enough to satisfy Lysander and fool him into thinking he was basically his new best friend. I zoned out part way through Lysanders rant about what the Gamemakers would throw at us this year- as if we hadn't all been thinking about it since they were announced. Suddenly, I was brought back to reality by the sound of my name.
“Y/N, Y/N.” I blinked and my gaze shifted to Lysander.
“Sorry.” I muttered
“Quite alright dear, you must be tired if you didn't get enough sleep. We're going to watch the games you were both in, for reference.” My mind didn't register the words and I simply nodded before I realised what he had said and my eyes widened in shock.
We watched Finnicks first, since he won before me. From the reaping all the way through to the crowning ceremony. He was confident in the interviews, dressed in the most impeccable suit and tie, clearly designed to show off his beauty, laughing at Caesar Flickerman's comments and responding with his own witty quips, not just a pretty face at all. Then utterly deadly in the arena. For the first few days he had lain low, not much excitement but enough to keep sponsors interested. Then he got the trident, the most expensive gift ever seen, and it was over. District 4 was fishing after all, and it seemed Finnick Odair was born to wield the trident. He captured tribute after tribute in a net and killed them all, offering no mercy. And finally the last cannon went off announcing him the winner. Fourteen years old and he had won, the youngest victor, the most handsome victor, the Capitol darling. Finnick Odair. If he was that good back then, I had no doubt he would be extraordinary now. He had it all as well, the looks which first made the Capitol love him, he was intelligent, and undoubtedly one of the best fighters that would be going into the arena. Mags and I sat there speechless as Lysander congratulated Finnick endlessly.
“And how you used that trident, extraordinary! I don't believe you'll struggle in these games now that you've had ten years to practise.” I could only think of how young he'd been, how he'd been forced to grow up so quickly after, how he'd won- but what was the cost?
Then my games were switched on; I saw myself going through it all over again. The walk up to the stage after my name was called, all eyes on me. The chariot ride where they had dressed me up as a mermaid, all shimmering fabrics and a golden crown. The interview, where Caesar asked me questions about my life back home and I answered quietly, barely audible, playing the sweet little girl as I danced for them momentarily. The arena, my frightened face as the boy from 10 died in front of me, running and hiding. Then a cut to as I made my first kills, I saw the light leave their eyes as the blood left their bodies. Another cut, to the chase and confrontation with Arion, the second the knife left my hand I closed my eyes and the thud as it hit him echoed in my ears.
They showed the crowning ceremony last, I stood calmly on the dais with my hands clasped in front of my body. I had been made to wear a white dress that fell to my knees and had a red bow tied around it. The same red adorned the pins in my hair, shaped like roses, and the single gem hanging from a silver chain around my neck. The significance was not lost on me, young as I was. I had killed three people in the arena so I wore three pieces of red. One for each of them, the crimson colour their blood on my hands. President Snow walked up slowly and placed the golden laurels on my head. He looked down at me, a small smile on his face as I gazed up at him, he whispered something that only I could hear. Words that left me pale and confused, words that could have been good but in the circumstances only sounded like the promise of a life of pain. His mouth moved on the screen and I read his lips.
“The Capitol will love you.” He stepped away and proclaimed me their victor. And it struck me how I looked so tiny compared to him and everyone around me, as the Capitol roared with applause and my big eyes stared out over them, disbelieving and uncertain before the tape ended leaving the compartment in silence.
I shoved my seat back, the legs screeching on the floor, and stood up quickly. Everyone turned to face me as I stayed still for a second.
“Y/N.” Lysander began but I cut him off.
“No, I just, I need to, I can't.” My brain was jumbled, old memories being dragged to the surface unwillingly. So I turned and I ran.
I sprinted along the train, pushing doors open as I ran through the compartments. Avoxes jumped out of my way as I barreled past them, looking at me in curiosity. I came to the end of the train and held my hands in front of me to push through the doors. I crashed through them and fell into the railing. I gripped onto the cold metal as if it was the only thing keeping me in reality, the wind rushed past me and my hair floated in front of me, strands whipping in the cold air. I could barely see, tears blurring my vision and hair covering my face. I took a shuddering breath, letting the cold air flood my lungs, and I broke. I cried and cried and cried. Letting out everything that I had kept bottled up for seven years. I had cried before, that day on the cliffs, that was for the games, for the fact that it was happening all over again for so many people across Panem. But this. This was for me. For every pain I had endured since I won, the evenings spent dancing and singing under lights focused solely on me, the fear of making a mistake stopping me from enjoying it fully, the nights spent alone, unable to sleep because of the nightmares, the days spent wandering around like a lost soul, wondering if it would ever be better than what it was.
So I cried for myself, in one selfish moment I allowed myself to only care about myself. Tears dripped down my face, droplets falling on the railing for what felt like forever. Eventually my throat grew raw and my eyes seemed to run out of tears to cry. I dropped my head forwards into my hands and my eyes glazed over with the memories I had suppressed.
I was no longer on the train headed to the Capitol. I was in the arena. Perched on an icy tree branch, pressed against the tree trunk to keep from slipping off. Hidden by the frozen leaves in the white fluffy clothing they had given us to wear. A tribute ran underneath my hiding spot, running away from something, two others followed chasing him. I immediately recognised them as career tributes, this was all just a game of cat and mouse to them. And they caught him. I shoved a piece of cloth in my mouth to stop myself from letting out any noise that would give myself away and clapped my hands over my ears to block out the noise of his screaming in pain and crying out for help from someone as they ripped into him, their laughter echoing in the otherwise silent forest. A warning that they were on the hunt and if you valued your life you would get out of there as soon as possible.
I had stayed in that tree for the first few days until I was eventually forced to move when the gamemakers released mutts into the arena. Great big slobbering beasts that lumbered along harmlessly until someone tried to kill one. Then all hell had broken loose as they chased tributes up trees and then hurled themselves unrelentingly at them, bringing them down and mauling them beyond recognition. They brought about the deaths of five tributes before they just disappeared, presumably called back out after doing their job.
I snapped out of my daze as I felt someone standing next to me. My gaze cleared as I pushed the memories back into a locked box in my mind. I didn’t need to look to know who it was, the mark on my wrist burning and on instinct I pulled my sleeve down and took a small step to the side to lessen the sting. It eased immediately from the small distance between us and faded to a dull throbbing. Finnick said nothing at my movement and we just looked out over the passing countryside, rolling green fields, trees that touched the sky and vast lakes stretching beyond the horizon. We stayed like that, peaceful, just taking it all in until he finally broke the silence.
“You were so young.”
I smiled bitterly, resting my chin on my open palm propped up on the railing.
“We all were but we had no choice. They just want to watch their games. And they don’t care if innocent children die so they can have them.” I laughed slightly. “Then they get the one that lives.” I shook my head, my fingers tightening on the rail, the cold metal biting into my skin. “They get to kill us then they get to keep us.” I turned around, leaning backwards onto the railing and looked up, watching the clouds move slowly away in the blue sea of the sky. Then the Capitol came into view, towering buildings taking up the skyline, marring it with grey,
“I'm going to go back in,” Finnick said, following my line of vision, “You should as well.” With that he stepped back into the train, not sparing a second glance as I watched him walk through a set of doors and out of sight. I relaxed as he left and stayed in my position, head tilted skywards, eyes closed until I felt tiny drops of water on my face. I opened my eyes to see rain falling, a light drizzle but enough to dampen my clothes and hair, I laughed slightly and walked inside, the warmth hitting me in a blast. I hadn't realised how cold I'd been before but the heat warmed me and my clothes quickly dried off. I looked over my shoulder as I walked through the doors that slid open, the rain pattering on the windows lightly, a last glimpse of normality.
I quickly made my way through the train, hearing Lysander screeching at unfortunate avoxes to find me as if I was missing and he had no idea where to find me. I stepped into the compartment to see him looking frazzled, he immediately caught sight of me standing unsurely at the edge of the room and gave a dramatic sigh of relief.
“Not to worry everyone she's here.” The train jolted to a stop. “We have arrived.” Lysander practically squealed and eyed me.” Dear, you should just fluff out your hair a bit, and try to look happy for the cameras.” I nod my head once and plaster a smile on my face. He nodded in approval.
We made our way to the doors. Finnick and I stood either side of Lysander and Mags was just behind us. I can see people through the windows already, screaming and shouting with excitement.
“Now everyone, remember this is the first time they will see you so make sure to leave a good impression. That means smile and wave, blow a few kisses if you have to.” Lysander told us, focusing his words mostly on me. A bell rang and he quickly turned around to me, perfecting everything he could see wrong, the tiniest hair out of place, my sleeves at different lengths and pushing my cheeks into a smile. Facing forward just in time as the doors slid open and we stepped out into the masses.
Taglist:
@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mystargirl-interlude @ponkaniee @missunicorn @purplelavin @user123453226780536 @littleanubis21
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thatstonedwriter · 7 months
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⋆。˚ 「More than Enough」⋆。˚
◉ Sinopsis; comforting their s/o, who struggles with their self-worth
◉ feat; M&M, Fizzarolli, Striker
◉ A/n- kinda been in my feelings for a few days, but it's alright. Also haven't written for Striker in a hot minute so I'm deciding to give it a try
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___˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘___
Moxxie and Millie also struggle with self-esteem and self-worth, so when you're feeling down, they have a good idea of what might be able to cheer you up.
Moxxie, ever the thespian, writes you a ton- and I mean a ton- of little notes, poems, and even songs- all declaring his unconditional, undying love for you and Millie. It's not generic love songs either- what Moxxie writes are the most heartfelt, sincere declarations of love you'll ever hear
Dude will also follow you around all day like a sidekick- actually. This guy takes the Hype Man position very seriously. Whenever you're talking, he stands to your side, hip jutted out and arms crossed. He's so sassy for no reason
Millie actually takes a more lowkey approach- don't get me wrong, she and Moxxie absolutely smother you with love- but Millie's lowkey nature helps balance out Moxxie's grand gestures.
Millie is pretty observant, so she's able to pick up on your subtle mood changes and habits fast. Wrapping your arms around your stomach? Millie beats you to it and has her arm around your waist. nervous fidgeting? Millie holds your hand, and gives you a reassuring smile.
Of course, they each have their own off days- sometimes y'all take a collective self-care day which is just code for you sitting on the couch, ordering food delivery and watching dumb shows; no matter the circumstance, Moxxie and Millie will always love and support you unconditionally.
┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺  °
Fizzarolli knows exactly how it feels to think you're not living up to everyone's (or even your own) expectations. While Fizz knows there's no such thing as completely "getting rid of" these feelings, he will always do everything he can to reassure you.
Distractions are Fizz's specialty, so if you're feeling down, expect lots of jokes and random stories- its just his way of helping you get out of a negative mindset, even temporarily
Fizz is also the kind of partner to perform impromptu stand-up comedy acts when you're feeling down. Sit your ass on the couch with some snacks, because for the next thirty minutes, you're gonna watch Fizz attempt comedy while using a wooden spoon as a microphone.
It's funny to think Fizz knows a little bit of a bunch of different languages; wanna know what that results in? Him attempting to flirt with you in Italian or French but really just saying a bunch of random bullshit. It's the thought that counts, right?
Don't let the robotic limbs fool you- Fizz is very touchy-feely (unless you're uncomfortable with it). If you happen to be insecure about your physical apperance, Fizz is there to assure you, there's nothing to be insecure about. You're literally the most amazing being in his eyes
Fizzarolli knows how hard it can be to wrestle with your inner-critic, and that it takes a long time to unlearn the instinct of being self-critical. That's why he takes every moment he can to tell you everything you have to be proud of.
┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺  °
Striker isn't one for self-doubt or insecurity. There's not much room for it in his life, so it's harder for him to empathize with what you're going through.
when Striker does take the time to understand what you're going through, he's still confused. He's more pragmatic, so when you list your insecurities, all he can think is how wrong you are
It's a bit harsh, but hey, so is he. Though, he does understand there's a lot about relationships he has yet to learn- like how to be a bit more sensitive when dealing with feelings of self-worth
at first, Striker's solution is to tell you "prove yourself wrong," but when he sees it's not the most.. effective solution, he opts to just listening, and doing his best to be a pillar of support.
Rather than rushing to fix things or immediately tell you you're wrong, Striker sits and will listen to you for hours. He won't offer unwarranted advice or try to invalidate your feelings- he just listens.
And at the end of the day, Striker knows what there is to love about you. He may not express it as openly, but Striker cares about you, and hates seeing you beat yourself up. He hopes one day, you can see yourself the way he does- perfect as you are.
___‎˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘___
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runicarbiter02 · 27 days
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could you do an enemies to lovers type thing with keegan. like the reader and him never got along since the reader joined the ghosts. if not that completely fine 🫶🫶
I'm so sorry it took so long to get to this, darling! Uni has been kicking my ass this year, but I'm moving back home tomorrow, so I'll have a lot more time to answer requests! Requests are open if any of you wish to send anything in, and I love you all very much! <3
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You'd worked your ass off to become a part of the Ghosts. Years of training, busting your ass, standing up for yourself, and proving yourself were so, so worth it when you found out you'd be transferred onto the team.
Or... so you thought.
Keegan doesn't take kindly to new members. The Ghosts are a tight-knit group who've been through a whole lot of shit together. They'd bled and screamed and cried and grieved together. They're brothers. And you're an entirely new variable that throws his meticulously and perilously balanced routine and norm off kilter.
It doesn't matter if you're masc, femme, something in between, or not anywhere near: you're an unaccounted for and uncalculated variable.
He's standoffish and condescending with you, especially if you're ranked below him. He is extra hard on your during drills and training, and he always shuts down your ideas, never giving you the chance to shine.
Overall, he's a major ass.
Hesh constantly chides him for it, while Logan ends up being a silent pillar of support for you. He knows Keegan is just wary, not wanting to see another get killed, and he knows Keegan is also afraid that you will get one of his brothers killed.
Logan and you grow quite close. Keegan hates it. He always fears the worst.
Eventually, however, he begins to sing a whole different tune. He's not sure how the mission had gone wrong, but it did. Their intel had been way off, and they had met far more enemies than expected. At exfil, he's taking a head count and he feels his heart leap into his throat when he realizes that two are missing: you, and Logan.
When he sees you finally lumbering to exfil, his first instinct is to tear into you, chew you up, and spit you out. But, he stops when he sees you're practically dragging a limp body with you.
He races over, helping you support Logan's injured body, and he looks at you as if seeing you for the first time. You had gone back and put your life on the line to protect one of his brothers, one of which he's most protective of. He sees the terror in your eyes, not for yourself, but for Logan. And it's like a switch flips.
He knows when he needs to own up for his mistakes. He stops at your bunk that night after everyone had been to medical, had showered, eaten, and had time to wind down a bit. He apologizes; a genuine, honest apology. He explains himself, not to justify his actions, but merely with a hope you'll understand.
He begins to watch your back. He searches for you in every room he walks into. Sees flickers of you in the smiles of his brothers, in their warm eyes when you make a joke. He sees you.
He's never one to hesitate, and when he realizes what he's feeling, he knows it's better to lay it out then let it fester like an untreated wound.
He sits down with you, looks you in the eye, and tells you everything he's feeling. Whether you return those feelings or not, he'll respect your decision. He can be professional, and all he'd really like is for you to be safe and happy.
But, when you give him that sweet smile and admit you feel the same, the look of relief upon his face is immediate. All he can do is smile, boyish and shy, and he gently takes your hand.
He'd lean in and press the gentlest kiss to your forehead, far gentler than he thought himself ever capable of.
"Never heard better news in my life, sunshine."
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Text
Drawn Together 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.
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Character: Steve Rogers
Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.
I saw this and had to
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You are not a rebel. You are clean cut. You live within very precise boundaries. Minimizing every part of yourself to evade notice. Rules are not meant to be broken, despite that old cliche.
That is until that day. It's foolish, you know it. That voice in the back of your head repeats your foreboding. You know you can't go back. There isn't a magic eraser for this one.
Shut up.
You're over it. Over yourself. Over your boring life. You've never done one fun thing for just yourself. It's always been what has to be done. What must be done. You're thirty years old and you don't even know if you understand the concept of 'fun'.
You sit on the leather bench. Nervous and shaky as hell. There's still time to change your mind. You can take your deposit and go, with clean untainted skin.
No! You're not going to chicken out this time. You want one memory that doesn't end in you tucking tail and running.
"Do you like the sketch?" Sam, your assigned artist asks.
You glance over at him as he pulls on a pair of black gloves, his gun laid out and sterilised. You peek at the open sketchbook, the drawing of a simple red poppy outlined in black with a thick spiraled green stem. Nothing too big or extravagant, easy to hide. If your mother or father ever saw that, you would be excommunicated.
"I love it," your voice quavers and you clear your throat, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little anxious."
"That's fine. First time, right?"
"Uh, yeah, I don't even have piercings," you give a brittle chuckle, "I'm not really the adventurous type."
"I'm sure you are in your own way," he grins, a look that calms you. "So, we still set on ankle?"
"Um, yeah, I think that's good."
"As good a starting place as any. Glad I talked you off the ribs. Those are tender."
"Just an idea," you breathe, "I don't know much about these things."
"Not to worry, you're in good hands," he winks, "you can just relax," he rolls his stool to the foot of the bench, "and pop your leg up here."
"Right," you gulp down another chest full of air and follow his direction, "that's it?"
"And keep still. Tell me if you need a break. The pains a bit much at times so don't be afraid to speak up."
"Okay, sounds good," you try to settle in but your blood feels thick and your vision speckles with silver. Oh god, you're really going to do this.
"Don't hold your breath," he says, "really, I don't like my canvases passing out."
"Sorry."
"It's okay, you want something to drink before we start?"
"No, I'm good."
"Awesome," he says and grabs his gun, double checking the tip before moving back to your ankle. "Alright, I'll count down so you're not too surprised."
"Thanks," you fold your hands over your stomach as he positions your leg and bends forward.
He counts from three and you focus on not moving at the first stab of pain. Don't be a weak bitch. You grit your teeth and let out your breath as the gun buzzes loudly. The pain keeps a steady sear in your skin but you slowly get used to the sensation.
As he works, your eyes wander along the dark red walls and the artwork hanging all around. Tattoos in colour and black and white. The schematics of a tattoo gun. A falcon crest wrought in brass.
You hear the door open and the smoky voice of the other artist, Nat greets the newcomer you can't see past the pillar. The response is a deep, rocky timbre. You can only imagine the inked up brute behind it.
"Always with the notes," you hear a paper crinkle, "I'm the artist here, Rogers."
"Hey, I'm an artist too," the man counters lightly.
You peek over as the redhead woman appears on the other side of the pillar and guides her client through to her open workspace. An open curtain drapes against the wall at the other end of the shop. She sets down the page and tuts as she looks it over.
The man slides off a pair of dark sunglasses, black lenses with golden frames. He slips them into the pocket of his denim jacket and tugs at the sleeves. Their actions seem to be routine and you can see why. His arms are covered from wrist to shoulder in ink, a few smaller tattoos on his knuckles. Now you really feel out of place. 
"Sam, what's up?" The other client calls over as he hangs the denim on the coat rack.
"What's it look like, Steve?" Sam says, his eyes not leaving your ankle.
You take in the interaction silently. You're a stranger among the usuals. The poser getting their taste of artificial danger. Your ankle tweaks and you smother a grunt between your teeth. The noise catches the blue eyes of the man, Steve.
You quickly avert your eyes back to Sam and knot your fingers together. Steve's shadow moves away. The artist at your bench hardly seems bothered but gives a shake of his head.
"You want the curtain?" Natasha asks as she approaches the black drapes.
"Nah, you know I don't care."
Your eyes flick up as the man peels off his tank top. Wow. You blink rapidly and make yourself act normal. 
He lowers himself onto the leather seat as Natasha takes out her tools and starts sterilising. You once more force your attention back to Sam's careful work. It's going to take a while.
"You good?" He asks as he glances over, lifting the gun from your skin.
"Great," you murmur in an airy voice.
"Still nervous?"
"No, actually, kinda excited," you try not to speak too loud, overly mindful of the other client in the shop.
"Good," he hunches again and you suck in as he put the needle back to your skin. "So, what do you do? When you're not getting sick tats, that is?"
"Um, I, er, I teach. Music lessons."
"Music, huh? You seem like… the drummer type."
"Piano," you correct him, "I can carry a beat–" you pause to check the pain in your voice, "but I mostly teach piano."
"Classy," he remarks, "so, a poppy, any particular meaning to that?"
"Er, no, uh," you rub your neck nervously but make yourself quit moving, "it's my favourite flower."
"Pretty sombre fave but I get it," he remarks.
"Yeah, I guess…"
Your attention is drawn at the soft slap of skin and the rattle of metal. You look up as Steve retracts his hand and Natasha points at him with a sharp nail, "this is a sterile workspace."
He chuckles at her irritation and shows his palms before he sits back. He rolls his shoulders as he leans casually and twiddle his fingers against his jeans. Once more, your eyes meet and his mouth slants slightly. You gulp and look down again.
"So, any ideas for a second piece?" Sam asks.
"I think I'm gonna stick with one."
"Not gonna get a full bouquet?" He wonders.
"Not yet."
"Better get cozy, Rogers," Natasha says.
You look up as she sprays shaving foam onto his chest.
"You know this is my second home," he teases as he relaxes and she spreads the cream.
"Don't remind me," she grumbles as she takes a razor.
You tear away from your distraction once more. Gosh, it is painful. You don't know how people end up like him. Your tiny little flower will be more than enough for you.
You close your eyes and groan. Sam rests his hand on your calf. He squeezes as he pauses again.
"Need a break."
"No, keep going," you puff out.
You grip the side of the leather bench and bite down. You've always been a big baby. You bat away the gloss of tears threatening to confirm that and take another breath.
The subtle creak of leather pulls your gaze back across the room. Steve leans slightly around to see you past Nat as she shaves one side of his chest. You grimace and hide beneath your lashes.
Why is he looking at you like that? It must be amusing, someone like you in a place like that. Now you know this is definitely a mistake.
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the16thtower · 1 month
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Wyll Ravengard fucking undoes me because while a lot of fans and the BG3 writers do him dirty, there's so much going on with his character that just isn't explored or elaborated on that is so fascinating.
I have a parent who functions as a pillar of the community in my hometown, who is incredibly competent and admirable, and who judges me harshly for supposedly making choices that ruined my life. It's really difficult trying to wrap your head around all the different layers of that kind of relationship and Wyll never gets to really address it properly.
If we think about what happens after he gets kicked out of home:
What does he get to take with him? Does he even get a chance to pack any belongings? He looks like a normal human for the most part when we first met him, so what did Ulder tell people? We don't know about his mother's side but is there any family or family friends he could stay with? Did Ulder poison the well with everyone Wyll knew by being upfront about the pact or did he lie and make up another equally damning excuse for exile? God, just the idea that Ulder looked his son in the face (freshly injured) and immediately threw him out is devastating. Wyll is so certain about the prudence of his father's decision when we met him but either:
This is a perspective he's eventually made peace with
His conviction in his father never waned
which both suck! Either his idol, his father, screwed up massively or he has so little concern for himself that it never occurred to him that Ulder's justification was shit. Ulder is the Duke of Baldur's Gate, with all the resources that grants him, and he didn't even try to contact an expert on demons to try and get more info on his son's situation? What the fuck! There's the whole bit with the Trials of Balduran about appropriate punishment that Wyll agrees with that he doesn't even think to apply to his own situation. It can really fuck you up having your hero, who you admire for the good they do for others, decide you're not worthy of that same good.
Wyll tries so hard to be a good person and to lead by example but never seems to see himself as an acceptable recipient of the grace and kindness he shows others.
Does Mizora just immediately whisk him off to different parts of the Sword Coast to start acting the part of the Blade of Frontiers? He's seventeen, homeless, no support network, and fighting monsters - I'm going to lose my fucking mind. That's ridiculous. That kid was already dealing with his father's intense expectations (from what Wyll describes, Ulder was raising Wyll to follow in his footsteps, which is a steep ask). He then suddenly loses everything, on top of the stigma of demon association - Wyll's mental health must have tanked at some point. Depression, anxiety, and PTSD are definitely on the table (plus phantom pains from the prosthetic eye).
Just thinking of this teenager learning how to drink properly with no one looking out for him, trying to numb things a bit, and just becoming a sad wreck every time. Just... there's so much there with Wyll having to grow up very quickly in very lonely circumstances. We know he has some acquaintances, like the tieflings, but who actually knows what's going on with him? Is he still shouldering his burdens alone? Is MIzora around bothering him or does she flit in and out of his life? He's in exile for seven years.
And he's still a romantic and an idealist! Unflinchingly, genuinely, with his chest! He endures! He becomes a hero. It's beautiful. He survives and cultivates his best qualities in the face of awful circumstances. Wyll has this intense sense of morality and will (pardon the joke) that never permits him to sway from the right thing, even with everything stacked against him. And it routinely costs him! It's so, so hard to do the right thing and he still does it because he simply can't see another outcome worth living through.
It upsets me a little that Wyll ends up doubling down on what a good person his dad is when they reunite - as if Wyll hasn't demonstrated infinitely more empathy and compassion for other people, even when it actively impedes him. He's good because he chooses to be good and seeks to understand, not because he's able to follow the standards set by other men.
This is not a particularly organised discussion but fuck, I love Wyll Ravengard.
(UPDATE: I've just made some edits for clarification since I didn't express myself well. Also, this is a game that requires hundreds of hours of gameplay so be kind if I don't know everything.)
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