#but still i support the body pillow theory | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladythornofrivia · 5 months

Text

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Six)

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: modern!reader reborn as lady greenstar. it was no secret as aemond’s admiration grew.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, size kink, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and Aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

a/n: this chapter is ONLY in Aemond’s pov. ooc aemond, but still is a cold-stone, charming prince we all love. Thank you for being patient with me; i took so long to write. I used a reference from Nanami’s line from JJK—he said “Being a child isn’t a sin.” And the trailer of HOTD S2 is 😍😭🔥❤️‍🔥👏

Chapter Six: The Rebirth of Lady Greenstar

~Aemond’s POV~

Aemond couldn’t stop gazing at you in your sleep, no matter how often he saw your chest rise and fall with soften breath drawing past through your lips—sinful lips, droning out soft noises, he recalls the day where he undressed you. Moles engraved on your lower lips and neck, and several others spotted on the collarbone. Some at the back. The shape on your smooth legs sprawled and tucked at turns you rotated whilst in dreamland—he recalled your skin marked in red outline of a dragon on your right thigh, and a green dragon on your whole backside.

Slender arms rested beneath your head despite the ivory pillows are there, all fluffed and cleansed with new ivory sheets, aglow under a yellow sun.

Quenched as he is, Alicent’s word stung; his hands and teeth clenched. “But the truest of your heart—your love must be hidden in secret,” she told him once.

He knew what she meant.

Studying the histories of the Targaryens—of those who had children out of wedlock for an escapism in horrid and loveless marriages assigned from previous kings are often ridiculed and reigned in contempt, in curse—bastards.

He hated bastards. Lucerys and Jacaerys are one—they claimed to be as Velaryons throughout—and on a night of Laena’s passing, Aemond, at the age of three-and-ten claimed Vhagar and lost his eye, that damned good-for-nothing bastard—a Targaryen pretender who was out of Rhaenyra’s womb, bathed and born with brown locks and pug-like nose and sneering features—Velaryons tend to have delicate and soft features, but still manly in their own way like Targaryens do, but not Strong. House Strong are rugged and filthy.

But—

With your case, as a newcomer, as an outsider, he knew you don’t belong in this world, considering how you tried to avert Aemond with diversion. You’re neither a royal nor a bastard. Though punishment can be given to anyone in the royal court or outside the Red Keep. Anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms. Though of course Dorne accepted bastards.

Aemond’s intrusive thoughts overcame. A battle of restrain lashed out, when the prince approached towards the lush your sleeping figure. Your breath steadied at the rise and fall on your hilled breasts; the torn and worn out nightwear severely took a toll on the guards yanking you as if you’re a fragile doll.

If one’s act of taste that considers as a sin, then it’s a sin I shall give.

His head leaned forward, face closing to yours, tip of his tongue tingled as his left hand clasped on your head, the other rested on your waist as his tall body brought down on the bedside atop of your sleeping form. He had memorized, and counted the moles—once, as he lay himself to sleep in his quarters on the night after he first saw you. There’s a theory that moles came from a past lovers planting a kiss on empty spots. Aemond could offer you more. His tongue slithered on the soft line of your neck, and brought back to pucker with balmy smack, leaving a small trace of string silava coated on your now bruised skin.

Squirming underneath him, Aemond satisfied, humming, his right hand snaked on your waist, then fondling your left breast, pinching the taut nipple as he devoured the scent on you as he hungrily kissed your jawline and slope on your neck.

Earning a moan from you, Aemond spurred, his fingertips roamed on your breast and lowered down to your thigh, kneading. Your face—your lips—directly aligned to his, drawing a quiet sigh.

Adrenaline rushed in his veins, his body grew hot, trousers compacted with his engorged cock. He couldn’t get enough of you. The taste of you, your beauty and your fiery heart. He envisioned of what your face would be like, your voice would sound like, if you’re awake during the pleasurable intercourse or under his tantalizing fingers and mouth.

Countless footsteps skittered across the hall nearby. And so, Prince Aemond sat on the chair with his legs crossed and his elbows resting on the armrest behind the wall, spying on the maidservants passing by the opened door without batting an eye, maids chatting as always.

A hushed sigh of relief drew from his lips. By then, he looked at you one last time, spotted a love bite on your neck, before ushering himself out to go at the hall and disappeared with his lips, licking—tasted and lingered upon more ravaging thoughts of you.

~~~

Into a wide-ranged room, roofs decorated like constellations and metal works of the orrery, and the broad balconies garbed in light and ruffled curtains swaying. The council planned to use this room to divert the newcomer and persuade her to join hands and swore oath.

They have hoped that a new change of environment will appease her. Aemond couldn’t blame her; the Council room is filled with discrimination and accusations, despite his interest on becoming a sovereign—unlike Aegon who he rather be a sovereign in between someone’s legs at the brothels upon the Streets of Silk.

Regardless of Alicent’s cautionary, both Green sons lurked and eavesdropped on the members, who are more frantic and belligerent in comparison to previous meeting.

“She’ll be here,” Aegon teased. “Ser Arryk is coming to fetch her. Poor girl lost her way in the Red Keep.”

Aemond folded his hands behind his back, abiding, cold and calculating, and twice as tall, passed from Aegon’s stature.

“How long will she last, I wonder? With all the skills, beauty and remarks she has gotten,” Aegon emphasized on the word “beauty” as sarcasm, “do you think she’ll survive, even after the council? This is no easy task, of course, residing in Red Keep. The Blacks are here again. And Daemon didn’t come here alone.” His head jerked, indicating towards Rhaenyra. “I don’t suppose you’re aware, but the poor girl might risk her life again. Shocking how the Blacks and Greens weren’t showing hostility despite our shared past.”

Aemond watched within the presence of the council—Blacks and Greens united—without bloodshed. A bizarre sight to behold.

The doors creaked, and entering (y/n), following Ser Arryk.

The Blacks and Greens gaze with watchful eyes, tension rose as (y/n) proceeded closer and sat down on a vacant chair nearby the entrance door but struggled; Ser Arryk assisted her and perched down as she thanked him, returning a similar unnerving gaze back, unyielding even when appearing fragile. Her posture eased; she glimpsed at the decorated ceilings and tables with constellations.

It appears she likes it, Aemond thought.

Until her eye landed on Aegon and Aemond himself with her elbows rested on the left armchair, back slouching, eye concentrated intensely.

Aemond’s heart skipped that she faced him, in devoid of sheepish demeanor. And there, she smiled.

“Shall we get started?” Rhaenyra insisted.

(Y/n) couldn’t stop gawking at Aemond and Aegon.

“My lady,” Rhaenyra called out firmly, and (y/n) snapped back to actuality. (Y/n) eyed on everyone, then looked down onto her hands on the armrests.

Silence ensued. Then (y/n) requested to their introduction since they came to know (y/n)’s. All have introduced themselves—Hightowers and Targaryens. When Green brothers are finally introduced, Aemond spotted (y/n)’s lips curled a little; her dimple dented. But overall, she seemed happy throughout the introduction.

“First, we must address regarding to House Blackwood,” Otto drew the scrolled parchment, and distributed to (y/n) through the sentinel. “This letter is sent from a raven at this morrow.”

Sleeking her wavy strands—long curtain bangs back, she read the lines in the parchment. “Is this supposed to be a joke or something?”

“House Blackwood demands for your head, since they accused you of murdering Remon Blackwood,” Otto said. “Anything to have say in your defense?”

Tongue in cheek, (y/n) chortled, aloud for everyone to hear.

“Does killing others amuse you?” Daemon challenged. “Or would you rather a quick execution by a dragon for your childish act?”

“I’m sorry did you say dragons?”

Daemon unanswered her question, but she knew he wasn’t lying.

(Y/n) recollected herself. “It’s three knights that chased me, remember? They killed Ser Remon Blackwood long before they chased me. I used the blade he gave me, not the large swords.”

“There are other reports that the three knights are imposters,” one claimed. “That their faces aren’t quite as recognizable. And their armor and breastplates are entirely soft—a forge through cheap metal. Their blades and blunt and uncared for.”

“Must’ve been the rapers from the North.”

“Ser Criston, what was the weapon she was holding when you first found her in the woods? Was it a sword?”

“A fine blade that belongs to Remon Blackwood,” Criston replied.

(Y/n) sat there and released several guttural coughs, which got their attention.

“Are you alright?” Alicent concerned.

“I’m fine,” (y/n)’s voice croaked. Alicent ordered the servant to fetch the hot tea, to which you drank after being served.

“Has she drank the Milk of the Poppy,” Otto asked the Maester.

“Apparently she hasn’t drank any since this morning; deeply fell asleep.”

Relaxing in the chair, (Y/n) tossed her hair over to the side before she took out two objects again from the pockets on her nightwear and placed it onto her lips, and blew out smoke, but away from their direction.

“What are those objects that you possessed?” Daemon asked.

Crossing her legs, (y/n) blew out another smoke, her eyes glazed darkly, her demeanor changed as if it was an illusion. “This is the cigarette, and this is a lighter.” She demonstrated the items again, but only she’s precisely shown the golden lighter, carved in detailed dragon, and fire lit from the metal.

“Where are you really from?”

(Y/n) clicked the lighter shut. “I already told you last time,” her voice crossed.

“Are you a slave?” Rhaenyra asked.

(Y/n) is taken aback, brows scrunched, bewildered.

“Everyone saw the markings on your body,” Rhaenyra pointed out.

“No, I got these since I was young. Let’s cut to a chase. What do you want?”

The members of the council baffled at your straightforwardness.

“Since we’re here, I don’t intend on wasting anyone’s time,” she resumed, her voice hardened. “What do you want?” Her voice darkened.

“Are you aware to why you’ve been summoned in the council?” Otto questioned.

“Oh please, do enlighten me,” (y/n) said in sarcasm.

“Lady Rhaenyra has planned on you becoming a knight—you both saved the children and experienced in combat during the battle outside the Red Keep.”

(Y/n) laughed again, though not as cruel. In anger, the knight trudged towards her, but she stopped the knight with her left foot stomped on his breastplate, revealing the red dragon tattoo, your hand ran through your luscious hair; Aemond stared for so long that he ignored his surroundings. He found himself yearning to taste you again.

“At ease, good sir,” Alicent ordered. The knight backed off and your leg lifted down, crossing over to the other.

“Why refuse?” Rhaenyra challenged. “Do you wish to be executed from false charges?”

“You misinterpret me, my lady. Do you want to know what happens when you put a woman as part of the Kingsguard? People will riot. No man would accept a lady knight because they don’t want to be ashamed of not holding much power.” With her elbows propped, the upper body slouched, leaning forward, intensely gawking at their familiar mortified faces. “If anything that you should be worry about,” her index finger pointed outside behind (y/n) at the open archway; behind her is the town of King’s Landing, “it’s the people. People hold you on the highest regard; anything you do, they’ll use it against you. You have dragons,” she reasoned, counting on her fingers, “legions of army and holds the utmost reputation—everyone knows your name and your appearances distinguished from others. If laying a single mistake, people will make an excuse to take the opportunity to tarnish—even bring hell to Westeros. If you put two and two together, it’ll be difficult for people to accept as much as I want to help,” (y/n) cautioned.

Unused cigarette wafted in the crisp air—and (y/n) stomped on it with her fingers.

“As a matter of fact, I couldn’t agree more,” Jason Lannister encouraged. “Ladies are not suitable to guard for the ascendance of a potential heir. Women take longer to dress than men, after all they’re made to be dulled for a tedious hobby.”

Aemond disagreed, otherwise.

“Why save them?” Rhaenyra asked.

(Y/n) blinked.

“Being a child isn’t a sin,” (y/n) said, solemn. “They don’t deserve to what they’ve gone through.”

“Never thought you find this miserable,” Daemon said.

“I have soft spot for children and those who are broken.” She darted her eyes to Aemond once more.

Rhaenyra sighed, her hands enveloped, glancing at neutral Daemon next to her, poised. “We shall find an alternate option for you to abide here in King’s Landing—tasking the vital aspects of being part as the Red Keep’s vessel—everyone has their own role to play, knowing their place, and you’re no exception.”

Refusing, (y/n) inclined back into a relaxing position. “Figures,” (y/n) muttered, posture sank into the chair.

“I know it’s difficult to accept, but should you stay, you’ll learn a thing or two of the culture and the history, everyone around you included,” Rhaenyra suggested. “And we shall do the same to yours. Though the customary traditions in Westeros must steady. But it won’t mean you’re limited from freedom at the assets of your personal values and desires and expression.”

“It would be the wisest,” Rhaenyra added. “People won’t know and comprehend this, but us, despite you’ve given simplistic explanation of your vast side of the story.”

(Y/n) pondered; fingers tucked on her chin.

“They’ll never accept me,” (y/n) lectured, locks undulated in steady motion. “No matter how you vouch or reason for me, they won’t adapt; I’m just an outsider. It wouldn’t be as upsetting once I get hurt. They won’t understand yours or my intention if I decide to stay here. Or worse.”

“But there’s still a chance for you to prove yourself, allow your presence to be seen and heard,” Alicent coaxed.

Rhaenyra contemplated. “Or perhaps you could join us at Dragonstone,” she proclaimed, rather blithe. “Of course you’re free to choose.”

Aemond disliked the idea of you residing in Dragonstone as much as Alicent, based on displeasure etched onto their delicate and finely features, green as envy—as Hightower’s colored banner that summons war, strong gazes projected towards Rhaenyra like a serpent in the shadows.

Gritting and grinding her teeth, (y/n) tongue clicking. “No, I’m not staying in Dragonstone, either. I don’t want to overstay my welcome, consider how I “arrived”.”

Aemond’s breath unwinded. Flush smothered your cheekbones. Stared long enough until Aegon elbowed him in a single tap, as a reminder to stay focused.

“I’m afraid it’s far from possibility, since you came along way from the other vast side of your world. In the meantime, you must reside here in Westeros, in King’s Landing. We may never know your intentions, but it’s best to keep it simple and quick. Do tells us what you want.”

Refusing, (y/n)’s face turned away, sheepish.

“You want gold? Reputation?” Rhaenyra insisted, to which you answered “no”.

“Do you wish to possess a dragon?”

“First of all, dragons are hard to take care of. Two, I’m not a Targaryen! That’s your thing, not mine. I can’t even take care of my dog.”

“Then I assume you want the Iron Throne,” Daemon insisted, but the Blacks and Greens shot a piercing glare at him in unison, warning him not to give anymore ideas, but he awaited for (y/n)’s reaction.

“That chair looks uncomfortable! I’d rather sit on a cold ground rather than having an iron swords jabbed up and bleeding in my ass.”

Aegon snorted, covering his mouth when Otto noticed his grandsons, scowling.

“What can we do to convince you,” Alicent resumed, hands rest on the armchair.

“I don’t think you can help me on this one,” (y/n) said, begging them to let you go.

Rhaenyra maintained her posture. “Then what is it that you truly desire at this moment, Lady (y/n)?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Never.”

Shaking, deep in pensive notion after hearing their relentless offer disguised as blatant curiosity.

Silence prevailed, at first. Fireplace flickered, soft howls bypassed the constellation room. Everything stood still, as does their anticipation, weighing and resting on their fate of the house.

Rising onto her feet, and she got close and flatly pressed down to a cold stone pillar with her hand. “I want to see the ocean, the sky—the smell of salt and cloudy air. I want to feel the wind as I walk by, or draw and paint surrounded by flowers as I looked out onto the ocean as the ships sails by.”

“A very simple, mundane request,” Daemon commented, folded his arms. “Anyone could percept the instability of waves and ships passing through and the fragrant smell of blooming flowers.”

“Sometimes taking the simplest pleasures in life must cherish with joy and savor with love,” you told him, remaining your eye locked onto the waves, wobbling and crashing. “You’re a dragonlord, Prince Daemon, I think you should be grateful. As for me, I rarely get to see the ocean, because I lived somewhere far where it has no ocean, no flowers—the weather is humid and sometimes shows a little rain. On most days, hot air suffocates you to a point you want to drown in cold water.”

“There’s a chance people might conclude you’re from Dorne or Yiti. Or perhaps as Ser Criston’s sister.”

Aemond watched (y/n) shooting Daemon with a deadpan expression on her dulled hues. Criston, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate Daemon’s unnecessary commentary, but made no urging trifle.

“I’m not, and if I do, you would recognize the Dornish accent at this moment. Clearly you can’t. Sorry to disappoint you,” (y/n) replied, nonchalant.

“Anything else,” Rhaenyra asked, anticipating.

Silence occurred.

“What of other things you acquire to be more convincing,” Alicent chimed in, coaxing, sensing an alarming and animated expression hidden from you.

“Nothing,” (y/n) squeaked, though her cheeks flushed says so otherwise.

Aegon snorted as Aemond lifted the corners of his mouth into a piffling smirk—as he found your sudden expression unexpectedly chaste with shyness and charm.

“The matters settled, then,” Rhaenyra got up. “I look forward to see you and more. I expect great and admirable accomplishments from you, Lady (y/n). I think it’s that for now you must stay in the capital. If you do intend to serve the realm, I’ll reward you, anything to your heart’s desire. As long as you make contributions, we’ll make your dream as certain. In the meantime, that is.”

(Y/n) ventured in a languid motion near towards the members in the council. In the end, the favor on her side—Rhaenyra and Alicent’s request—might go smoothly if done right. But Aemond’s heart grew heavy at a thought of you leaving King’s Landing, leaving Westeros, feared you might not recall your ventures and people you encountered alongside of the journey—feared your mind and sight of seeing Westeros and its people are nothing but a figment dream.

Alicent pushed herself up from her reclining. “I shall do my part as well. You’ll do great things, I’m certain,” she assured (y/n), enfolded atop (y/n)’s cold hand.

Happiness faded from (y/n)’s lips when a cold end of the blade—Dark Sister—tipped and traced a thin line on her centered neck. Daemon’s violet eyes gleamed at hers; her hands raised an indication of surrender.

Aemond’s eye snapped in fury. The guards Rhaenyra accompanied clutched their blades, viewing like vultures standby.

“I’ll never trust a cunt like you,” Daemon proclaimed. “You may wield a blade, you may save anyone who you wish, but you’ll never be part of the court. The look in your eye—arrogant and maliciously stricken with pretense. Common whores like you—pretending to be humble and virtuous when you really are neither.”

Yet you fuck whores in the Streets of Silk on your pastime, Aemond thought.

Sighing, (y/n) said, “Then kill me. If you really think I’m dangerous to the Red Keep and to the monarchy like Ser Marrow claimed, then end me.” Then she gripped Dark Sister and pointed it at her chest daringly. “Go ahead. I dare you.”

He scoffed, despite Rhaenyra’s attempt on pushing Daemon back.

“Don’t speak to me as if you’re my equal. We are nothing alike.”

“Thank god I don’t have a cock, then,” (y/n) shot back, rolling your eyes. “I don’t have to worry whether I’m going to get gelded or not.”

Like a child, Aegon stifled his giggling.

“Fucking simpleton,” Daemon hissed, pressured the Dark Sister. “You know nothing of Westeros and its people. Might as well have your tongue remove. What say you, warrior?” he mocked.

“Seven Hells, Daemon, you’ve said enough,” Rhaenyra warned.

Aemond strode onward, never minding Alicent, who was rushing to his side, begging to not worsen an escalating quarrel. But Aemond paid no mind; his mother’s words drowned and emptied in his fueled rage.

“I saved both lives—a boy and a girl,” (y/n) protested. “I saved two young people who are separately belong from two mothers—who were at their near deaths. I saved you too, by the way. Guess it doesn’t matter, right?”

Daemon tsked. “And that’ll be the last thing you’ll ever save, considering your reputation has been nothing but meddlesome. I’m afraid your reasons on saving your neck has come to expire.”

Aemond trudged in front of (y/n), holding his long dagger and situated his honed silver on Daemon’s neck. He felt her cold hand pressed against his chest and gave a little push, but no to avail; she’s still weak under the Milk of the Poppy.

“Hold down your blade, Uncle,” Aemond warned. “You gave her quite a fright. I thought the deal has been final.”

“I never thought I’d take you as a fool, Aemond—that’s twice you’ve committed a sudden act.” Daemon’s lips curled in disgust. “Being blinded by her, I see.”

“She saved my sister’s life,” Aemond justified. “And I’m eternally grateful.”

Without shifting his eye, he saw you wandered your glance up to him before facing back to Daemon.

Aemond shifted closer, Targaryen against Targaryen.

“Take one more move, and you’ll lose another pair of your eyesight,” Daemon sneered. “What happens then, if I do cut your other eye out? So, shall we test it?”

(Y/n) managed to block herself in between Aemond and Daemon.

“Then I’ll be his other eye,” (y/n) declared, defended, one arm spread, shielding Aemond, the other hand held high against Daemon, bandage slipped from her visage.

All noise ceased.

Aemond’s heart quickened at a roaring declaration in a vibration on your tone—soft yet firm and fiery—like a dragon reborn.

“I’ll be his other eye,” she repeated, shielding Aemond. “Stay back,” she hissed at Aemond, insisting on shoving him back to lessen the tension between two factions. Aemond glimpsed at her shaken hand, yearning to hold her.

Even (y/n) knew a large cost of encountering Targaryens through fate, aside learning the history. Dragons never cower in their palace of red and gold of Red Keep, in a palace of black stoned walls of Dragonstone, their banners—sigils of red or green. Dragons come and reign in a price of fire and blood and fearsome, colossal beasts taming Westeros.

Knowing the consequences of her shared words, who knows what might occur depending on her unfickle judgement.

“You heard the maiden,” Aemond said with a smug on his face. “Release your blade, Uncle,” he commanded.

Grimaced, Daemon drew his sword back in his sheath, parting the gap, and endowed (y/n) and Aemond with imprisoned through his hues. “She’s no maiden. Perhaps I shall call her “Green’s bitch”.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed. Little by little, he stood inches near (y/n), like a proud and mighty dragon stood by its owner.

Watching close by, Rhaenyra and Alicent shared knowing glances.

Overhearing the sound behind them, the king produced an agonizing sound of his breath, (y/n)’s able to catch him from falling in brisk reflex.

“Get the maester, quick!” Alicent cried, as you are clinging onto the ailing king, who was moaning and groaning due to his severe ail.

Everyone made haste as Alicent and Rhaenyra assisted (y/n) on putting back Viserys onto his chair.

Adjusting the king’s posture, Alicent dimissed (y/n) by saying, “We shall talk later. I must tend to my husband. You go on ahead.”

And with that, the council adjourned—(y/n) ushered out, giving Aemond one last look with a slight bent on her neck.

With a final word, Aegon said to Aemond, as they trudged back to the halls. “Daemon took great pleasure in stirring commotion, especially a certain lady, who you’re so keen on.”

Aemond hasn’t utter a single word.

“Obviously, he has missed his youth involved with treachery and rebelliousness. I supposed these days have kept peace quite busy despite our father’s poor lapse of judgment.”

Aemond sauntered farther, but Aegon caught on in a same pace.

“I never knew you had it on you, dear brother. But was it really an act of good will for Helaena’s life or was it a pure instinct to an act of affection?”

“It was all for Helaena’s sake,” Aemond said.

Aegon leered. “Is it?”

From there, Aegon fled.

For once, Aegon never said something stupid or drunk.

Aemond stalked his mother on meeting (y/n) in the chambers he trudged in upon darkest shadows, carefully listening in.

Alicent came over, agitated even concealed in unsuccessful, mortified demeanor. “The Council has been reached to a verdict,” Alicent told (y/n), as if it’s a death sentence—probably the men discussed and finalized to an upcoming conclusion.

He watched as (y/n) was plopping onto the bedside, the last cigarette held between finger has thawed into ashes.

“I see,” (y/n) soften tone echoed the room, rippling against his skin.

Alicent touched (y/n)’s upper arm. “I apologize on behalf of the circumstances. I know it can’t be easy,” she said, sincere.

(Y/n)’s eyes twinkled.

“Despite Rhaenyra vouching for you for saving her son, you have declared of being Aemond’s other eye, and thus, your declaration brought an uprising of questions to the Blacks.”

(Y/n) acknowledged.

“A word of advice; should you wish to keep your wits and tongue, play your part, and keep your head down for the Blacks not to detect or test your patience,” Alicent said. “Common folk, even nobles tend to have ill intentions far from a plain gossip. Kingdoms tend to hatch a birth of vipers and stabbers every corner of the castle walls.”

“I’ll do it,” (y/n) said, without looking back at her, picking on her fingertips.

Alicent clasped her hands over (y/n)’s, and heaved. “Rhaenyra and I are in a current matters of discussion regarding of your future duties in King’s Landing. She proposed the idea of you being as the cupbearer while I proposed the idea of you being as Helaena’s handmaiden. Nothing has set in stone. We did so to ensure of your livelihood be at safest, to cease the gossip that has been spread far and wide regarding to your arrival. But first, the king must anoint you at the throne room for a private ceremony—no audience shall be present.”

You stayed silent; your right hand stroke your left wrist; the feeling the absence without your possession.

“Is something the matter?”

(Y/n) shook your head, light-headed.

“In time of fear and change, that is where you must be brave,” Alicent advised, eyes glistened.

Aemond has never heard of Alicent—his mother—spoken ever so motherly to anyone, not even Aegon.

A sudden shift glided in you when you have decided what to do as (y/n)’s role in King’s Landing. “I’ll bend the knee.”

Alicent’s dulled eyes brightened at your answer. “Then I shall inform my husband regarding to your call.” She laid her hand on (y/n)’s shoulder blade.

Once she stood up, (y/n) bid Alicent goodnight.

And Aemond stayed in the dark, and the only words replaying in his mind are the words she declared opposing the Rogue Prince.

I’ll be his other eye.

The way you shielded his body and ordered him to shift back, Aemond knew that no noble woman or commoner in any Houses would defend him and his honor as a Targaryen and Hightower. Or more than his status as a one-eyed prince. As a swordsman, he can hold off his battles, even in close quarters, but something about you, a strong-headed girl, who knew of little consequences, protected him that he find as devilishly unique.

His mind stirred in a matter of battling between whether he want to fight your battles or claim you.

Perhaps both.

Aemond had certainly come to a closure, a predetermined arrangement of taking you, but obstacles must come forth before a dragon claims the maiden as his crown, glory and a hymn that he won’t mind spend the rest of his life hearing.

Upon a daylight hour, the decision came to a close when both Greens and Blacks debated to assigning on (y/n)’s fate for the realm, despite a given answer. In the end, King Viserys has a final say, which both factions surrendered for an hesitant agreement. In the Red Keep, guest of nobles and common folk alike flocked inside to a point where it’s nearly and impossible to fit, all awaiting, all mind shared one reason.

Hours before the occurrence in the throne room, in Aemond’s quarters, two servants awoke him to bathe, and one maid provided him information regarding to (y/n)—the Maester inspected and mended on her wounds once more before withdrawing. Her eye, however, is healed, just as it was yesterday when she ripped the bandage off.

In the throne, there she was, blocked by tall members of the Kingsguard.

He imagined that a maidservant tugged the strings harder for a cinched waist, despite this, (y/n) cooperated without a fight. Knowing resistance will bring disaster. Until a thought of disaster is long gone. From there, the guards veiled for (y/n) to cross passage towards the steps of the Iron Throne, seeing upon a pristined condition—clad to an outfit befitting for a youthful and appeased maiden to soften at the hardened image of a brute fighter. Her straight long (h/c) locks with thick stands braided as headband atop of her head; strands of baby hair left untouched, and soft paint dabbed it on your chapped lips and cheekbones, tainted in reddish shade to liven your surly visage.

King Viserys proclaimed and summoned (y/n); she knelt with a hand over her chest, head inclining down that her long (h/c) locks framed on sides, reciting her vows. King Viserys crowned her with a green brooch with a four-pointed star sigil pinned on her centered chest once she stood.

“As a last hope for a darkened age within House Targaryen, in hopes to reunite both factions,” King Viserys announced, hoarse. “Salvation rests in your hands. I wish you nothing but the very best to soothe the realm with your grace, Lady Greenstar.”

Two factions appalled at his last claim underneath their vacant neutrality in their hues. Spectators gathered and exchanged in gossip, all frantic and perplexed from their King’s announcement.

A girl from a modern century has been remade through rain of fire and light, befall and rose from sky. Arise onto her feet, who peered upon audience, before the eyes of the two factions, who solely darting her eyes to Aemond, as if she wanted him to sense her heart is surged with heaviness, rebirth as Lady Greenstar.

Aemond did—but couldn’t offer the arms of comfort. His fierce and benevolent maiden. But in the eyes of Gods, Westeros won’t lay rest, as he keeps his ardor hidden.

And chaos entered.

Taglist: @galactict3a @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @hufflepuff1700 @me753 @fredskum @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @taintedlovesworld @kukulyarva @darylandbethfanforever9 @blackswxnn @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @herathedreamer @g-cf2020 @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @velunis @aleemendoza2425-blog @tm-starr @kukulyarva @buccini555 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics

252 notes · View notes

spookyserenades · 1 year

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Five

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; 20.5k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi everyone, it's Dana! Hope you had a lovely April, I'm so excited to share this update with you all! This chapter will involve discussions of the paranormal, a bit of angst, and SCENTING - the scenting scenes are a bit heated, I'll give you a heads up ;) The taglist is still open, and as always I love to hear reader's thoughts, theories, and comments 💜 Enjoy and thank you for reading and supporting Trouvaille!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

The pain shooting up from the site where her ankle bone had torn through her flesh was insignificant in comparison to the pure terror taking over her senses. Desperately, she tried to drag herself under the remains of a fallen tree, though the trail of crimson pulsing steadily from her torn skin left evidence of her presence in its wake. Even now, she knew it was for naught– the creature could no doubt smell the scent of her spilled blood, and was closing in at any second. In fact, she felt her chest tighten at the sound of a twig snapping somewhere nearby, the crunch of footsteps approaching. Whimpering, she shakily pressed a hand over her mouth, able to spot a cloud of breath just paces away from her hiding spot. In the howling winds of the blizzard, a gut-wrenching growl cut through the noise as the predator closed in on its prey.

Y/N felt herself fading in and out of a disturbed sleep. Pieces of fragmented memory passed through her mind fleetingly; being lifted off of a cold surface by a pair of strong arms, her head pressed against a rapidly beating heart. Panicked shouting, her body shivering and convulsing, the soft fabric of her quilt. The ghost of a hand brushing the hair off of her forehead, flickering candlelight and perfumed smoke, gentle mumbling… prayer?

As consciousness came to her bit by bit, her fingers flexing and relaxing in their grip on the fabric of her sheets, the hushed voices in the room grew louder as her senses returned to her slowly. Her throat felt like sandpaper from the scented smoke filling the room, a thin whine ripping from it as she attempted to peel her heavy eyelids open. Y/N felt like she had the world’s worst hangover, stomach turning over uncomfortably and skull throbbing. As her eyes opened, she stared blearily at the ceiling, the moldings around the Tiffany chandelier coming into focus as her eyes adjusted to the low lighting. It was still nighttime, or very early dawn, judging by the darkened walls of her bedroom. The voices she heard while she was waking up were silent.

Groaning, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself to sit up and try to recall how she had gotten to bed in the first place. As she lifted her head, the spot she had smacked on the marble floor throbbed in agony. Suddenly, two tattooed hands swiftly landed on her shoulders, firmly pressing her back down into her pillows with a curse. Reeling, Y/N painfully turned her head to look at Jeongguk, who was sitting on the side of her bed, appearing both exhausted and vaguely annoyed. Just beyond the elk hybrid’s silhouette, Y/N saw Jimin, who was biting his fingernails down to the nub, staring at her with grave concern.

“Wh-what happened?” Y/N croaked after a few beats, Jeongguk finally removing his hands from her shoulders and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. A rosary, one with dark red beads, was wrapped around one of his wrists.

“You passed out in the hallway. Hit your head,” Jeongguk replied, his voice hoarse as if he had been speaking for a very long time.

Tentatively, Y/N lifted her hand, gingerly poking at the site of her injury above her left eyebrow. Wincing at the tender flesh, her hand stilled as she felt the fabric of a butterfly bandage someone had applied to the wound. Shifting her gaze from Jeongguk, Y/N noticed Taehyung sitting at the foot of her bed, expression grim. Hoseok and Seokjin were lingering by her dresser, damp washcloths in the jaguar hybrid’s hand and both of the hybrid’s ears turned downwards in distress.

“And upstairs, what h-happened upstairs?” Y/N squeaked, feeling terrible that the hybrids all looked so disturbed. Further, with the Poltergeist twist to the evening, she was anxious to learn about what had unfolded after she lost consciousness. Namjoon and Yoongi weren’t in the room, from what she could tell, which formed a pit in her stomach. Had something happened to them?

Jeongguk sighed roughly, running his hand through his tangled hair and placing the rosary on her nightstand. Taehyung looked away from her, though Y/N realized his hand was wrapped around her ankle, likely in an attempt to soothe her. Seokjin made his way to the bedside, the corners of his mouth turned downwards as he scanned the site of her injury. Carefully, he found one of her hands gripping the sheets, wrapping it in his much larger hand and brushing his thumb over her skin. Shuddering at the contact, Y/N stared at Seokjin pleadingly for any type of explanation. To her surprise, Jeongguk answered her.

“I got rid of it, eventually. Son of a bitch tried to attach itself to you when I drew it out from the second floor. It’s gone though,” Jeongguk stood from his spot on her bed, moving to snuff out the herb bundle he had left burning on a plate on Y/N’s desk. Seokjin tightened his hold on her hand as she shimmied up on the bed as best she could with Taehyung’s grip on her ankle.

“You got rid of it? Did anyone get hurt? What was it?” Y/N pushed damp hair out of her face, wondering if Seokjin had cleaned up her face with the face cloths he was holding earlier. “How did you even know that there was something here in the first place?”

Jeongguk chuckled tiredly, stubbing out the herb bundle Judy had given her, his little notebook sitting next to it. The room, while considerably lighter spiritually, still felt tense. Hearing a floorboard creak, Y/N gasped in relief upon seeing Yoongi enter the room, his hair tied up messily and a steaming mug in his hand. Eyebrows pinched, he approached the bed, placing the fruity-smelling cup of tea in Y/N’s free hand.

“Is that pomegranate?” Jeongguk nodded towards the mug in her hand, eyeing Yoongi with suspicion.

“Yes, I heard you the first three times you insisted I make her pomegranate tea, Father Karras,” Yoongi narrowed his eyes, motioning for Y/N to take a sip with his lips pursed. She didn’t even know she had pomegranate tea in her cupboards, let alone the reason behind Jeongguk insisting she drink it.

“No one was hurt,” Seokjin murmured by her side softly, still holding her hand. Relieved, Y/N squeezed his fingers with a small smile.

“As for what it was, I’m not exactly sure. It was a malevolent entity for sure, but I wouldn’t go as far as to call it a demon,” Jeongguk explained, rubbing his eye with a fist. Y/N wondered if he was up all night trying to banish the spirit. “I used to hang around with a group of paranormal investigators. We did cleansings from time to time.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open upon hearing his revelation, Hoseok scoffing from across the room. She didn’t think Hoseok wholly bought into subject matter surrounding the occult, however, she remembered that he seemed significantly perturbed during the incident the previous night. Taking a sip of the tea Yoongi brought her, Y/N felt Taehyung’s hand on her ankle grow tighter.

“So what, you can sense ghosts or something? Like a fortune teller?” Hoseok jabbed, his arms crossed over his chest. Jimin, who migrated to her dresser where the fox hybrid was, stomped on Hoseok’s foot while he opened up one of the dresser drawers. Y/N watched Jimin pull out a fresh change of clothes, Jeongguk muttering under his breath as he tucked his notebook under his arm.

“I’m gonna get some sleep now that you’re fine,” the elk hybrid announced gruffly, avoiding eye contact with her once again before exiting from the room, fumbling with the notebook in one hand and a pack of Marlboros in the other. Seokjin released Y/N’s hand, pushing a lock of damp hair off of her forehead while she pouted at Jeongguk’s departure. She felt it was the first time the elk hybrid trusted her enough to tell her a little about his past, and lamented his absence immediately.

“Miss Y/N, here’s some new clothes. You’ll probably want to shower, Namjoon was applying oil to your arms and such,” Jimin gently placed the new outfit on her bed, Y/N suddenly feeling self-conscious as Jimin’s golden eyes flitted across her bare clavicle, which she now realized was coated in olive oil. Yoongi cleared his throat awkwardly, bouncing his leg from Y/N’s desk chair he had perched on.

“Mm, you’re right. I feel sticky,” Y/N grimaced, allowing Seokjin to help her slowly sit up in bed with a hand on her back. The pain was slowly starting to ebb away from her wound above her eyebrow, Y/N entertaining the idea of Yoongi slipping an ibuprofen into the tea.

Reluctantly, Taehyung let go of her ankle, teeth worrying his lip as he watched both Jimin and Seokjin helping her out of the bed. The sun was starting to rise, filling the room with peachy light, capturing mahogany strands of hair on Hoseok’s head while he stood by the window, looking out at the backyard absently.

“Where’s Namjoon?” Y/N asked Seokjin quietly, knowing Hoseok could hear her, but not wanting to startle him too much by saying the wolf hybrid’s name above a whisper. Seokjin frowned, orange eyes turning stormy as he watched Y/N stretch out her stiff limbs, using Jimin’s arm to keep her balance. Jimin was right, the skin of her arm was streaked in oil, her shirt dappled with several greasy stains.

“In his room. He helped Jeongguk with whatever ritual he was doing, and when you started to stir, he bolted from the room and has been locked away with that new book he got yesterday afternoon ever since,” Seokjin informed her, turning his head to gaze down the hall in the direction of Namjoon’s bedroom. Shrugging, Y/N assumed he was probably trying to look up what kind of entity had been in the home in his new encyclopedia. Distantly, she wondered if he was suffering from a hangover for the first time.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Yoongi made his way to the threshold of the door, motioning the others to follow. Taehyung seemed rooted to his spot on Y/N’s bed, still chewing on his lip with pointed incisors, before hauling himself up and making his exit from her bedroom. “I’ll make some breakfast, Jimin, could you help me out?”

Nodding, Jimin left her bedside, Seokjin close behind, both hybrids giving her a wistful smile before following Yoongi and Taehyung down the hall. Sighing, Y/N inched towards the bathroom with her new clothes, forgetting that Hoseok was still in the room for a moment until he shuffled his feet behind her by the bathroom door. Craning her neck up at him in question, she tried to decipher the emotions flashing through his eyes.

“When I said that one of us was going to have to scrape you off the floor last night, I didn’t think I’d actually have to,” he began, his mouth in a flat line. Looking remorseful, he placed his hand on her shoulder shakily. “That scared the shit out of me. The sound when you fell… it was awful…”

Hoseok’s eyebrows pulled together, his ears turning down while Y/N frowned. He squeezed her shoulder, as if he was checking that she was truly standing there in front of him. Placing her hand over his, she felt the strong urge to comfort Hoseok, who was more shaken from the whole event than she originally thought. After all, if she was more gravelly injured, who would be left to take care of him and the other hybrids?

“Hey, I’m okay now, Hoseok. I’m patched up, the situation has been, uh… handled. My head doesn’t even hurt that much,” Y/N cheerfully assured him the best she could, his expression still crumpled even after she spoke.

After several moments, and before she could overthink it, she tentatively stretched her arms out, inviting him in for a hug. She watched his mouth open and close, her eyebrows lifting, and just as she was going to drop her arms and laugh it off, Hoseok’s grip on her shoulder tightened, pulling her firmly to his chest. Shocked, Y/N felt Hoseok’s hand shift from her shoulder to the back of her head, cradling it to his chest, his other arm winding around her waist securely.

By instinct, she pressed closer to Hoseok, her own arms wrapping around him and soothingly rubbing his back. Sensations from the previous night came back to her as she held the fox hybrid, Hoseok’s heartbeat racing through his chest like it had hours ago, the scent of rosewood coming from his skin comfortingly. After a few moments, Hoseok seemed to relax, the tenseness in his back muscles melting away under her hands, and he gave her a final squeeze before pulling away.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” his hands fell from her body after ruffling her hair, his dimples appearing on his cheeks as he began to leave the room, leaving Y/N stunned and red in the face as he shut the door tightly behind him.

Moving robotically, Y/N frantically tried to calm her erratically beating heart, shutting herself in the bathroom and shedding her oily clothes. It was as if she was utterly possessed, the urge to comfort each of the hybrids since she first laid eyes on them was so strong, all reason had fled from her mind. She had only met Hoseok days ago, and Y/N was already prepared to hold him for hours if that was what he needed– she knew it was the same for the others, as well. Y/N hadn’t expected to grow attached to all of them so quickly, even Namjoon, who she had barely exchanged more than a handful of sentences with. Shaking her head, she blindly turned on the shower.

Pretty quickly, she noticed the bathroom was missing the drafty chill that had been pestering her for a couple of weeks, as she walked over to the window to assess the gap between the sill and the glass. Making a noise of surprise, she discovered a screwdriver on the windowsill, the drafty gap completely repaired. Floored, she speculated about who could have fixed the window amidst the chaos, but her bets were on Taehyung. He had mentioned he was handy.

Returning to the mirror in a daze, she winced at the nasty wound above her forehead, the skin already turning a mottled purple and the cut jagged. However, it was nicely cleaned up and tended to decently, which was more than she could have hoped for. Feeling a warmth bloom within her, Y/N was grateful that the hybrids had cared for her so well after her fall, even more so that Jeongguk and Namjoon had managed to rid the house of whatever was causing disturbances for so long. Of course, a seemingly endless string of questions looped around in her brain– surrounding Jeongguk’s time with paranormal investigators, Namjoon’s apparent wealth of knowledge on the occult, and the entity that caused the incident in general.

While hot water washed the oil from her skin, Y/N felt a lightness in the atmosphere that had been absent from the house for several weeks. In the years she had spent focused on her career, stepping away from the realm of the supernatural and spirituality, Y/N supposed she had achieved her goal of becoming desensitized from it– she didn’t even realize how badly things had escalated with the entity that had come in from the grounds. Rinsing her hair, Y/N frowned; now that she had the hybrids, was it really so wise for her to continue turning her back on something so deeply woven into the fabric of her life? It was clear that she had only succeeded in ignoring who she was and how she connected with her spirituality, but she had neglected to put up the proper protection for herself and those around her in the midst of all that denial.

Her heart was heavy, realizing if she had simply cleansed the house once a month and maintained protection spells her mother put up ages ago, she likely could have spared the hybrids from witnessing such a dramatic event so soon after moving into their new home. With the pity, Y/N also found resolve– she knew she never wanted something like that happening again in their home if there were measures she could take to prevent it. For the rest of the day, she planned on upping the protection on the entire house, perhaps crafting some charms for the hybrids to keep them safe. Hissing as hot water hit the cut on her forehead, Y/N screwed her mouth up in concentration, trying to remember where she had tucked away the trunk of her tools and herbs, likely somewhere in the basement under the stairs.

Toweling off, Y/N hummed softly, picking up the ancient tee shirt Jimin had selected, the one with her high school’s name printed across the front. It was the softest tee shirt she owned, to be fair, and paired with her well-worn leggings and fuzzy socks, Jimin picked out the perfect outfit for her to recover in from the previous night. Letting her hair drip-dry, Y/N shuffled out into her bedroom, detecting a sweet scent coming from the hallway cutting through the smoky scent of burnt cedar. Searching for her phone, she found it sitting on her nightstand beside Jeongguk’s rosary. Carefully, she scooped up the ruby beaded necklace, curiously passing her fingers over the smooth beads, the silver embellishments and cross. Tucking her phone into her pocket absently and cradling the rosary in her palm, Y/N thought it best to return it to Jeongguk once he woke up and placed it back on her nightstand gingerly. She wondered where he had gotten it, as it wasn’t one of the purchases he had made at Judy’s store.

Rolling her stiff shoulders back, Y/N left her bedroom, the hallway bright with morning sun from the skylight above the grand staircase. Someone was singing softly in the kitchen, the sounds of pans clattering mixed between the sweet voice– Y/N guessed it was Seokjin. As she passed by Namjoon’s door, the creaky wooden scrape of her old desk chair across the hardwood within his room had her pausing, waiting for the wolf hybrid to undoubtedly seek her out. Within seconds she watched the door creak open, Namjoon cautiously sticking his head out into the hall to glance towards Y/N’s bedroom.

Clearing her throat, Namjoon’s ear flickered, head snapping in the other direction to locate her. An awkward sensation washed over her as he scanned her face and body with his aloof expression. She recalled how soft his face had become the night before, but now it was void of that softness, as he stepped out in the hall and firmly closed the door behind him. He was wearing the blush pink thermal she had picked out for him.

“Morning,” Y/N greeted, trying her best to match his steady eye contact. “Jeongguk said you helped out last night. Thank you,” she continued upon his silence to her greeting, his arms across his chest.

“I’ve been trying to find out what it was in that encyclopedia. I have a couple of theories, but nothing that matches up completely with what went down last night,” Namjoon admitted, eyes shifting to the wound on her forehead. Subconsciously, she reached up to touch it, biting down on her lip at the stinging of the flesh.

“If I didn’t pass out, I would have been able to help you… sorry,” Y/N murmured sheepishly, a short grunt coming from the back of Namjoon’s throat. “I’m going downstairs to look for my old tools and books. Maybe something in the chest can help you narrow down some of your theories.”

Namjoon appeared intrigued, promptly following her to the basement door that was left ajar. She knew Hoseok was already in the kitchen; she had heard him whistling along to Seokjin’s song, so she didn’t have to worry about Namjoon frightening the fox hybrid in his own space.

“I need your help to haul the chest up here, anyways,” Y/N attempted to break the silence as they trudged down the stairs, shrugging as she was met with no response when they reached the bottom.

Determinedly, she rifled through unmarked boxes beneath the stairs, pushing past Yule decorations and the file cabinet of her elementary school artwork. Namjoon hovered behind her after checking out the gym area with curiosity, hefting a large crate filled with old bottles out of the way for her when she unsuccessfully tried to push it with her foot. After a few moments of blowing cobwebs out of her face from under the darkened steps, she found her old trunk filled with supplies for her craft. Covered in fine dust, a pang of sadness rocked through Y/N, especially when she brushed her fingers over some of the sigils she had etched into the wood of the chest as a teenager.

“This is it, I’m assuming?” Namjoon questioned from over her shoulder, having to hunch down quite a bit to fit under the steps. Nodding with her mouth in a flat line, Namjoon hummed, wordlessly hooking his hand around the handle closest to him and pulling it out into the hallway of the basement with ease. Squeaking with surprise at the sheer strength Namjoon effortlessly displayed, Y/N scrambled after him.

“Oh, it’s heavy, hold on! I might have to go get someone to help us bring it up the stairs,” Y/N worried as he dragged it to the stairs and lifted up one end of the trunk, Namjoon scoffing in response. It had taken her father and two older male cousins to drag her chest full of books, bottles, and metal tools down into the basement– she thought to at least find Taehyung or Jeongguk.

“It’s fine, Y/N. Just grab the other end, I’ll walk backwards up the stairs and carry most of the weight. Just watch your step,” Namjoon rolled his eyes, pushing up the sleeves of his thermal. Gawking at the wolf hybrid, Y/N nervously grasped the other handle, hoisting it up as quickly as she could to avoid Namjoon having to bear the entirety of the weight of the trunk.

Namjoon moved slowly up the steps, whether he was accounting for Y/N’s efforts or not. His face was serene, as if he was simply meditating rather than hauling an 80 pound chest up a flight of stairs. He truly was bearing most of the weight, Y/N feeling like she was lifting hardly anything at all as they moved, trying not to stare at the muscles straining the material of Namjoon’s thermal. When they reached the top of the steps, Namjoon took over, placing the trunk into the foyer with a thunk.

Catching her breath with a hand braced on the wall, Y/N eyed Namjoon with envy, his breathing even as he kneeled on the floor to unlatch the metal fasteners on the trunk. Peering over his shoulder as he pried open the chest, Y/N took the chance to check out the torn area of his left ear; it almost looked like the piece missing was bitten off. If that was the case, that must have been extremely painful for him– Y/N had read about how sensitive a hybrid’s ears were when she was reading about “scenting”. Jutting her lower lip out in a pout, Y/N watched the damaged ear twitch, Namjoon craning his head upwards to look at her questioningly.

“What are you staring at?” Namjoon narrowed his eyes suspiciously, making space for her to kneel beside him. He certainly didn’t miss much, and it was not like she could lie and say she was leering at her old copy of The Farmer’s Almanac.

“Your ear, the left one,” Y/N mumbled, heat burning her cheeks as she pawed through the chest to find a proper book to give him. Namjoon made a small noise of surprise, hands stilling in the process of turning pages of a moon ritual book. Teasingly, she cocked her head at him. “Were you expecting me to lie?”

“Uh, yeah. Actually,” Namjoon went back to flipping through the book absently, occasionally peering at her from the corner of his eye. Y/N spotted the thick leather bound book of spirits that she had been searching for, leaning into the chest to retrieve it for the wolf hybrid.

“May I ask what happened to it? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I’m just curious,” Y/N offered Namjoon the book, his body stiffening as he took it cautiously. Y/N went back to nonchalantly searching through the trunk for some fabric pouches to make the protective charms.

“It was a long time ago, there was a fight I was involved in. You don’t have to worry about it,” Namjoon finally spoke in a soft voice, his eyes far away.

Shocked that Namjoon had actually answered her, Y/N composed her face into a neutral expression, though she was puzzled by the cryptic response he offered. Namjoon fell quiet, stacking a few books beside him, which Y/N was assuming he’d take back to his room. She had gathered all of her materials for the charms, shoving them into a small wicker basket she found inside of the trunk holding several types of twine.

“I’ll drag this into your room for you, then I’m going to try and figure out what that thing was. Hopefully one of these books has a clue,” Namjoon announced, getting to his feet with the books tucked under his arm.

With the basket in the crook of her elbow, Y/N peered up at the wolf hybrid prepared to tell him not to bother with the trunk, blinking dumbly at the sight of his outstretched hand offering to help her to her feet. Her hand moved before her brain could protest, sliding against the roughened skin of Namjoon’s palm, his long fingers wrapping around the entirety of her own hand. Surprisingly, Namjoon’s touch was tender and gentle, pulling her up slowly with care. Once she was stable and upright, Namjoon released her hand, tearing his eyes from hers as she stuttered out a “thank you”.

“Go get something to eat. You need to regain your strength,” Namjoon murmured, crouching to grasp a handle of the trunk, already beginning to drag it down the hallway towards her room. Opening her mouth to protest, he shot her a disapproving look from over his shoulder, using his other hand to point to the kitchen sternly. Clamming up, Y/N felt her legs move on their own accord towards the kitchen, suddenly having no intention of disobeying Namjoon after all of that.

“Miss Y/N, are you feeling a little better? How’s your head?” Jimin’s voice, on the raspier side with sleepiness, snapped her out of her daze as she made her way into the sunny kitchen.

Her eyes widened as he, Seokjin, and Taehyung sped into her personal space at lightning speed, each with varying expressions of thinly veiled worry. Embarrassed, especially at the sensation of Jimin brushing hair off her forehead to look at her wound, thumb tracing around the bruised skin with a featherlight touch, Y/N’s eyelids fluttered. Breathing stuttered, she wished that Jimin would stop looking so sad– jolting at the feeling of Seokjin’s tail winding around the back of her thigh as he watched Jimin inspect the cut on her forehead.

“I feel much better, you guys! And don’t worry–” Y/N started, grasping Jimin’s hand softly to remove it from her face, squeezing it softly for reassurance, “I’ll heal in a flash, because someone tended to the cut so well.”

Y/N was surprised at how seemingly attached most of them had become to her in such a short period of time, seeking out comfort in her touch and proximity, worrying over her well being. When she had first made the adoptions, she had predicted it would be weeks before they’d speak to her, let alone touch her in any way; but perhaps she had underestimated their need for someone who actually cared about them, many for the first time. Y/N knew that hybrids, by nature, were often affectionate and became almost devotional to their adoptive human, however, she figured that dog and perhaps cat hybrids were more likely to display that kind of behavior. For some reason, because her hybrids were spliced with undomesticated animal DNA, she came to the previous conclusion that they’d be a bit more standoffish; though apparently she was wrong. The more she thought about it with her prior experience treating exotic animals, many of them did, indeed, form close bonds with humans. How were her hybrids any different?

Taehyung, to her left with his lip bitten raw, didn’t seem entirely convinced by her words of reassurance, pulling the basket from the crook of her elbow into his arms as if carrying the three-pound load would send her to the floor again. Brightening up the best she could while shaking off her internal monologue, she guided Taehyung over to the island to put down the basket with her hand on his back, deciding she could just get to work on the charms there so the hybrids would be put at ease by her presence in the communal space.

Taehyung grew stiff at her touch at first, swiftly relaxing once she smoothed her palm towards his shoulder blade. Both him and Jimin sat on either side of her at the island, Y/N meekly waving hello to Yoongi over by the stove, who was uncharacteristically quiet. He had found her old waffle iron in the pantry, standing over it silently as he waited for a waffle to cook with a bowl full of sugared strawberries in one of his arms.

“What’s all of that?” Seokjin mused while scanning the strange contents of the basket, leaning over the island from the sink, nonchalantly sliding a goblet of water in front of Y/N. Unpacking items one by one, Taehyung picking up the jar of black salt she placed down to examine, Y/N was unable to contain the giddy smile that had forced its way to her face. She was actually excited to be getting back into the craft?

“Herbs, mostly, some salt. I’m making some protective pouches for everyone to carry around. I want to prevent something like last night from happening again,” Y/N replied, counting out eight little velvet drawstring bags in front of her, striking a match to light a tealight as she spoke, tone suddenly becoming serious. “I also want to apologize. I should have been honest with you all from the beginning, with the haunting. When I was a kid living here, I dabbled in stuff I didn’t understand, and probably attracted whatever that was to the property.”

The room was quiet, waiting for her to continue, Y/N concentrating on using the flame from the candle to light a small stick of incense to cleanse the spell ingredients. Mostly, to avoid eye contact with any of them, as cowardly as that was. Setting the burning stick on a small clay stand, she sighed, gathering her thoughts before speaking again.

“The other night, with the ‘spider’?” Y/N made air quotes, catching Yoongi’s ears perked up from where his back was turned to her, arranging waffles on a plate. “I saw the entity that I first accidentally summoned as a teenager. It was lurking in my bathroom, and I’ve never seen it so clearly before. What I should have done, instead of lying about a stupid spider, was come clean and try to get rid of it with the knowledge I have now, after years of studying the craft… I guess I was worried you’d all think I was nuts or scare you away. But that’s besides the point– last night didn’t have to happen. I could have protected you all, myself, had I not been so stubborn about trying to turn my back on my past and my mistakes.”

Y/N heard her voice begin to shake; the more she spoke the more she realized that she was entirely to blame for the whole situation. The reason, the true reason she had packed up her candles and spell books was not to pursue a “normal” life as a veterinarian, but to try and escape the mistakes she had made as a teenager attempting to do magic she was not ready to perform. In consequence, she attracted something malevolent to the land, to her, that had followed her around on and off for years. Subconsciously, she must have thought that by simply abandoning her craft, the entity would lose interest in her, therefore freeing her of any more frightening incidents within the home. Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t how it worked, and the life-changing event of adopting the hybrids may have triggered a possessive response in the entity. Angered with herself, she tried her best to stay centered so she could carry out the protective spells successfully, though the realization that she had made things so much worse by pretending to be oblivious was painfully sobering.

Her pity party was interrupted by Yoongi, placing a gravy boat of maple syrup and a plate of waffles in front of her, smothered with butter, whipped cream, and the sugared strawberries. Jimin, gingerly, moved some of her bottles of herbs and the items that were burning away from her, leaning across the island to pluck a knife and fork off of a place setting Yoongi had assembled and handed it to her, his eyes full of some kind of hard-to-read emotion.

“Wow, uh, thank you, Yoongi…” Y/N sniffed, feeling extremely awkward that the hybrids hadn’t said anything in response to her lengthy speech. She supposed, with her deceit in the first place, she didn’t necessarily deserve an answer. “Smells yummy.”

“Eat up, you’ll feel better,” Yoongi sighed, returning to the sink, divvying up the large stack of waffles he’d made between the other plates he’d laid out for the others waiting for breakfast. “It’s not like you planned last night on purpose. Some of us have never witnessed anything like that, so I guess the possibility of being written off as ‘nuts’ wasn’t a baseless assumption had we not all seen it happen.”

Considering Yoongi’s reply, she appreciated the way that he validated her previous anxieties without totally dismissing her share of the blame. Y/N was aware that he was likely skirting around his clear disappointment in her lack of transparency about the night she had spotted the apparition in her bathroom, considering the leopard hybrid had been able to see through her lie most obviously at the time. Aware of being inspected from all angles, Y/N picked up her fork and hastily tossed a strawberry into her mouth, the juicy fruit melting on her taste buds sinfully.

“I think Hoseok was the most… disturbed, during the whole thing. You know, Y/N, how animals can see or sense things that humans can’t?” Seokjin suddenly volunteered, distractedly pushing a sliced piece of waffle around on the plate Yoongi had offered him. Nodding, Y/N chewed on another strawberry, knowing that Yoongi was keeping an eye on her.

“Animals can often see what humans call ‘spirits’ or ‘ghosts’, whatever you might name them– us hybrids can see them as animals do. It wasn’t my first time seeing something similar to that, but I’m certain Hoseok hasn’t. That’s why he’s been acting strange, I think,” Seokjin continued, Y/N hanging off of every word.

Y/N, who had heard Hoseok in the kitchen while she was in the foyer with Namjoon, suddenly wondered where he had gone. After he had left her bedroom earlier, Hoseok was definitely still a bit shaken up, though less so after the hug, but he didn’t seem like the type to hide from her. In fact, it came as a great surprise to her that he wasn’t in the kitchen when she got there, unless he had snuck through the entrance to the kitchen from the parlor to escape the very conversation she and the others were having at that moment.

“Foxy is about as open minded towards the occult as your average math major. Still, he wouldn’t have laughed at you if you told him what you thought was going on,” Yoongi added matter-of-factly, setting a plate in front of Taehyung while shooting a pointed look at Y/N.

“You’re right, Yoongi. I shouldn’t have let the fear of being judged– which is meaningless to begin with– get in the way of just being honest… And no, I didn’t make that connection, Seokjin. Truthfully, there is a lot I still have to learn about hybrids, I’m just thankful you’re all giving me the grace to learn as I go,” Y/N admitted, pushing her half-eaten waffle away so she could cleanse spell items with the incense before it went out, her stomach queasy with guilt.

Beside her, Jimin exhaled slowly, reaching out with his left hand to rest on her shoulder. As he squeezed her shoulder with encouragement, Y/N peered at the coyote hybrid solemnly, his eyes soft and lips upturned in a gentle smile. Relaxing a degree, Y/N melted into Jimin’s solid grip, feeling like a lifeline. While slowly munching on another piece of waffle, Yoongi pushing the plate back in front of her with a frown, Jimin’s fingertips drummed a melody on her shoulder soothingly, though doing little to prevent her from flinching when the slider door to the patio scraped open.

“Jinnie, can you toss me that bottle of water I left in the fridge?” Came Hoseok’s voice, bringing the scent of the outside with him. Breathing labored, Hoseok caught the frosty bottle Seokjin sent sailing in the air with a cackle, beads of sweat rolling down his neck and temples. Shaking his head, Jimin withdrew his hand from Y/N’s shoulder, moving to the coffee bar for a fill-up.

“How was the run?” Seokjin asked, appearing grateful for the fox hybrid’s interruption of the conversation. Hoseok had gone on a run after staying up all night? The thought made Y/N simultaneously jealous of the hybrid’s seemingly endless energy and worried that he was going to collapse from exhaustion at any second.

“Nice. Almost got lost, there’s a lot of land. Hey, Jiminie, did you know there’s an old stable way in the back?” Hoseok slapped the coyote hybrid on the back harshly, Jimin yelping and spilling hot coffee on the counter.

“J-Jiminie? Wait, what? Did you say stable?” Jimin stuttered, his features lit up with bewilderment. Jimin definitely displayed his emotions on his face clearly, whether he was aware of that or not, Y/N didn’t know.

“Yeah, a stable. You know, for horses?” Hoseok teased before greedily gulping down some water from his bottle. Y/N felt her eyes glaze over as she noticed some of the water escaping from his lips and sliding down the sharp angle of his jaw, rolling down his throat and into the material of his tee-shirt.

“Of course I know,” Jimin scoffed, using a cocktail napkin to wipe up the spilled coffee. “Miss Y/N, you have a stable? Did you have horses as a girl?” Jimin inquired with an edge of excitement in his tone.

Smiling bittersweetly as she spooned some black salt into the pouches one by one, Y/N shook her head with minor regret, Jimin’s ears flickering with curiosity.

“There’s a stable, but there haven't been horses in a long time. At least not since before I was born, my grandmother used to ride, but as she got older she wasn’t able to anymore. It’s fallen into a bit of disrepair, I’d love to start fixing it up as soon as I’m done with the rest of the house… maybe some of my neighbors or folks around town could use it to board their horses closer to home,” Y/N speculated distractedly, plunking shards of clear quartz in each pouch she was working on.

Taehyung had scooched closer to her, watching her create the charm bags with rapt fascination. Jimin appeared to be trying to locate the stable from the slider door, even though trees and hedges were totally obstructing it. She made a mental note to ask him to join her on a walk of the grounds later, like she had been intending to do for days. A piece of quartz slipped out of her fingers, clattering onto the counter, Taehyung swiftly plucking it up for her and dropping it into the pouch she was holding. Shooting him a sweet smile in thanks, she nearly fell off of her stool as he returned the smile, his face splitting into a pretty grin. Y/N had never seen him smile with his teeth, the gesture completely changing his gorgeous face into the purest expression she had ever seen on the Kodiak hybrid. Feeling herself grow hot in the face, she resumed her task, even when Taehyung took up the responsibility of placing the crystal shards into the pouches all by himself.

“So, this is witchcraft?” Yoongi suddenly leaned across the island, removing her plate from in front of her, an eyebrow cocked as he watched Taehyung take a bag of lavender buds Y/N handed to him to sprinkle in the pouches. She figured if he wanted to help, there was no reason to refuse him, as he screwed up his face in concentration to sprinkle the lavender into the pouches as evenly as he could.

“Yeah, protective magic. Were you expecting chanting and Ouija boards?” Y/N chuckled, determined to keep things light after the heaviness of her apology had dispersed with Hoseok’s arrival in the kitchen.

Yoongi smirked inches away from her face, collecting cream on her plate with his pointer finger, and booping her on the nose with it. Squeaking at the action with great surprise, Y/N used the napkin on her lap to remove the cream from her face, hearing Seokjin’s snickering from across the room.

“Silly girl,” Yoongi shook his head, rinsing her dish in the sink with a smile. Reeling, she hardly registered Taehyung, nudging her shoulder with his own, softly asking her what went in the pouches next. Absently, she placed some dried rosemary leaves in his wide palm, sprinkling a few leaves in the pouch she was holding herself.

As she and Taehyung worked on the pouches together, Seokjin, with half a waffle sticking out of his mouth, assisted Yoongi with the clean-up of the kitchen. Hoseok had bid them all a cheerful adieu to shower, followed by Jimin who mentioned wanting to test out the sauna. Y/N, enviously, wished that she could relax in the sauna for a half hour, but felt odd about joining the coyote hybrid. The thought of sitting in just a towel beside a very similarly bare Jimin sent a shiver rolling down her spine.

As Yoongi turned his back on Y/N, scrubbing a stubborn grease stain on the stove, Y/N snuck a peak at his form, pleased that he already seemed to have filled out a little since she brought him home. Oddly enough, from behind, the slopes of his shoulders, feathering of his hair, and curve to his ears struck her as extremely familiar again, only if for a moment. She wondered if there was any chance Y/N had ever crossed paths with Yoongi before; if not at the bar she had no memory of ever patroning, but perhaps in the busy streets of Boston, maybe at a grocery store or something. She was positive she would have remembered someone as lovely as Yoongi, especially with his unique spotted ears and tail, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d seen him before while she watched his graceful movements at the stove.

She was in the process of tying up the charm bags, Taehyung closely copying the knots Y/N was showing him, before taking each pouch from him and passing them through the dwindling smoke of the incense. Her thoughts suddenly drifted back to scenting, as Taehyung’s shoulder pressed into her’s– he was becoming increasingly clingy. On her other side, Seokjin had taken Jimin’s previous spot, picking lint off of Y/N’s shirt sleeve placidly, his fingers occasionally brushing the skin of her bicep making her shiver involuntarily.

As she had read in the article, hybrids prior to scenting would seek out ways to get physically close to their adoptive humans, though would continue to grow uncomfortable if they do not scent them promptly. In fact, the more the hybrids sought out touch, the more the discomfort grew for them, which is what concerned Y/N. Between the paranormal incident and the fact that none of them had even brought up the scenting, her hybrids definitely were pretty good at handling discomfort, as much as she wished they wouldn’t suffer in silence, if they were. Y/N had the feeling they were reluctant to spook her considering she had admitted there was a lot she didn’t know about hybrids, but it wasn’t like they could put it off forever.

“Hey, Yoongi, remember the other night when we were talking about my, uh… lack of knowledge when it comes to hybrids?” Y/N began nervously, glad that only the four of them were in the kitchen, and Jeongguk wasn’t there to make faces at her. Yoongi hummed, cocking his head at her to continue. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead,” Yoongi encouraged slowly, seeming to have no idea what was coming his way. Taking a deep breath, she set the final tied pouch down on the counter.

“You mentioned ‘scenting’. I looked it up yesterday because I didn’t know what it was. So I guess my question is, when should I expect that to, um, happen?” Y/N bit the bullet, looking Yoongi square in the eye.

The leopard hybrid’s mouth dropped open, apparently not expecting that turn in the conversation, freezing his movements wiping down the counter. Seokjin’s hand had stilled in picking the lint off of her shirt, and Taehyung had gone ramrod stiff beside her, eyes wide as he stared at Yoongi in equal shock. Attempting to cover up his surprise with a cough, Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, appearing to be trying to choose his words carefully.

“Shit, uh, wow. I forgot I even– I mean, sorry. I–” Yoongi stuttered, exhaling slowly and tossing the rag he was using into the sink in frustration. Seokjin’s hand dropped from her arm, looking out the window to hide the flustered pink blush over his cheeks. Quickly, Y/N tried to clarify her reason for catching them so off guard.

“Well, I really just brought it up because the article I read said that hybrids can start to get sick if they don’t scent, and I’m just worried, that’s all. I don’t want you guys to be in pain or uncomfortable at all,” Y/N jut her lower lip out, knowing that far too many of them had experienced enough pain to last a lifetime, and would not allow more if she could prevent it.

“I mean, yeah, that’s right. I guess I wasn’t expecting you to just…” Yoongi began, cutting himself off with a sharp laugh, covering his mouth. “I can’t speak for the others, but I’ll certainly let you know before it happens. I’m not just going to attack you or anything. You’re sweet for worrying, though.”

Taehyung put his head down on the counter, his back shaking with what Y/N assumed was laughter.

“Of course I’m going to worry. I’m supposed to take care of you all now, I want to do a good job,” Y/N whined, feeling like Yoongi had turned his embarrassment onto her, the crafty bastard. Seokjin, from next to her, made a choking sound in the back of his throat, burning a hole in the side of her face with his wide-eyed sunset stare.

“Sheesh. Don’t get mushy,” Yoongi groaned, able to return to his counter wiping task. Tsking at the leopard hybrid, Y/N gave Taehyung a pat on the back, muttering an apology as his spine pretty much arched into her palm. Sheepishly, he lifted his head with a subtle flutter to one of his ears, slowly accepting one of the finished pouches they made together– the midnight blue one.

Sliding off of her barstool, Y/N delivered a pastel pink pouch to Seokjin, who was still gawking at her unabashedly. He cradled the pouch in a cupped hand, mouth dropped open like he wanted to say something.

“Okay, just so we’re clear, you’ll seek me out before you feel any pain?” Y/N confirmed, siding up next to Yoongi and nudging him with her hip playfully. Yoongi gripped the countertop he was holding onto tightly, shooting her a disbelieving look, nodding as she offered him his charm bag. Taking it from her, Yoongi tucked it safely into the pocket of his linen pants.

“You two will do the same?” Y/N spun on her heel, eyeing Seokjin’s stiff posture and the way Taehyung avoided meeting her gaze. “As soon as you feel discomfort, I want you to come find me.”

“O-okay,” Seokjin murmured, fiddling with the strings on his pouch nervously. Taehyung offered her a weak thumbs-up, staring at Yoongi with widened eyes. Thinking she had done enough to assure them of her seriousness surrounding the topic, Y/N swung the five remaining pouches around in her fist lightly, ready to drop them off to the remaining hybrids and place her own somewhere safe.

“I’m going to ferry these to the others! I’ll see you all in a bit, yeah?” Y/N called over her shoulder, smirking as she realized Seokjin and Taehyung were so shocked they forgot to shadow her all over the house, rooted to their seats.

Humming a tune, Y/N skipped to her bedroom, carefully placing her own protection pouch on her vanity that she decided would eventually serve as her altar, once she cleared away some old perfume vials and dusty books. Ruffling her hair in the tarnished silver mirror, she giggled softly, vaguely delighted she was able to fluster the hybrids in the same way they had been doing to her since they started living with her. She knew it was perhaps a little petty for her to be enjoying the looks of total shock that blossomed over each of their faces; Yoongi’s fumbling for words, Taehyung dissolving into nervous laughter. In a way, though, it was thrilling– maybe she hadn’t totally lost her game. Further, she knew that the other hybrids elsewhere in the house could hear the conversation– so she didn’t have to worry about repeating herself. Instead, she could enjoy seeking them out momentarily, and watching them try to pretend they didn’t eavesdrop.

In the mirror, a sparkly red glint reflected by the sun coming from the window washed over her face, Y/N spotted the source of the light by her nightstand. The ruby beads of Jeongguk’s rosary, still sitting in the spot she left it last. Jeongguk had been napping for about four hours, and Y/N wondered if he’d be up any time soon. She supposed she could simply walk upstairs and listen for any sign of life. She knew Hoseok and Jimin were likely still bathing, the pipes bringing water to the basement humming beneath her feet, and something told her Namjoon wouldn’t be keen on being disturbed quite yet.

Shrugging, she scooped up the rosary, making her way to the staircase towards Jeongguk’s room. As she ascended the stairs, Y/N frowned at the state of the half-stripped wood, vowing to herself to finish up the job after she handed out all of the pouches. Restoring the house completely had never been more important to her, wanting it to be totally comfortable and fresh for the hybrids to relax in.

Heaving herself up the last step, Y/N passed by Seokjin and Taehyung’s rooms, as well as the dimly lit music room that she curiously peered into. The piano had been wiped clean of dust, the record player dragged out from its wooden tomb and neatly placed on a stray antique table with vinyls strewn about the vicinity. Tracing her fingertips along the fraying wallpaper of the hallway, she followed the familiar path to one of the old tower rooms Jeongguk claimed as his own.

To her surprise, Jeongguk’s door was left mostly ajar. Stopping dead in her tracks, Y/N listened for any sign of movement within his room, only hearing the gentle rustling of curtains from the window he had left open. Curiosity got the better of her as she peered into the room as best she could, inching into the very threshold of the room.

The elk hybrid was in bed, comforter messily thrown over his lean form as he lay on his back, an arm thrown above his head. He was asleep, from what Y/N could tell, as he didn’t immediately curse her out of the room; his eyelashes resting gently against his high cheekbones, chest rising and falling slowly with rest. Unable to get a proper look at Jeongguk prior to that moment without him distancing himself from her, Y/N realized that Jeongguk also had a small set of tapered furry ears beneath his antlers. Chalking it up to the fact that the antlers were so strikingly show-stopping to begin with to even notice his ears, Y/N basked in the opportunity to really get a good look at the elk hybrid.

It was astonishing just how angelic Jeongguk appeared while he was asleep. Y/N traced the inky lines of the tattoos along his bare forearm through the cracked door with her eyes, only feeling a little bit creepy as she stared at him while inching her way to his nightstand. Her plan was to simply leave the rosary and pouch beside Jeongguk for when he woke up, slipping from the room undetected.

As silently as she could, she laid the rosary on top of his leatherbound notebook, selecting the maroon pouch she made to nestle beside it. She stole another look at Jeongguk, his hair swept off of his forehead, the labret threaded through his eyebrow perfectly visible without his bangs obscuring it. Biting her lip, wishing she could sincerely thank him for everything he had done the night before, Y/N began to tip-toe her way out of his room. Her breath caught in her throat, the sound choked, as a powerful hand gripped her wrist before she could remove herself from Jeongguk’s bedside. Whipping her head around, she was met with Jeongguk blearily blinking up at her, his fingers overlapping on themselves as they wrapped around Y/N’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” Jeongguk’s sleep-riddled demand shot through her like a lightning bolt, temporarily forgetting he was restricting the blood flow in her left hand. Cringing that she had foolishly invaded his personal space so recklessly, Y/N began to sweat.

“Fuck. I’m sorry– I wanted to return your rosary! And I made a protection charm, too, just wanted to drop it off… I’m so sorry I woke you,” Y/N exclaimed, feeling his grip relax at the sound of her voice, the blood rushing to her fingertips with a tingle. Humiliation flushed through her as he released her wrist, his eyes traveling her form from head to toe.

“A charm bag?” Jeongguk clarified groggily, sitting up with great effort, “Judas priest– do you have Tylenol?” The elk hybrid pressed two fingers to his right temple, eyes squeezing shut. Y/N, her mouth hanging open, tried to ignore the way he bit at the silver hoop encircling his lip.

“U-uh, yes! Tylenol? I’ll get that for you right now, hold on,” Y/N stumbled over her words, mentally locating the medical kit she had stowed away in the broom closet under the grand staircase.

Again, before she could move, she was stopped, this time by the elk hybrid grasping the hem of her tee shirt making her stumble backwards. She toppled onto his bed, her ass making contact with the mattress as she let out a surprised oof.

“Forget it. I’ll come down for some later, need to shower,” Jeongguk yawned, letting go of the fabric of Y/N’s shirt. Y/N wondered if he was delirious, tugging her down onto his bed and exchanging so many words with her, staring at Jeongguk’s sleepy face with bewilderment. “About that charm bag…”

“O-oh! Yeah, I just made it, Taehyung helped a little, too. If you keep it on you or in your space it should do a good job of warding away bad spirits,” Y/N explained, wanting to distance herself from Jeongguk’s proximity, able to make out some foreign words tattooed around his bicep.

“Hm. Hope you made one for yourself,” Jeongguk muttered, pushing his quilt off of his legs. Scoffing, Y/N scrambled off of his bed with a scowl, ready to ditch him in favor of finding Hoseok.

Chuckling at the look on her face, Jeongguk stood, stretching his arms over his head languidly. He was quite disheveled, his tee shirt crumpled and hair sticking up in several directions. Rounding the bed towards his bathroom, he shook his head at her with minor amusement, Y/N blanching as she realized his bottom half was only clad in a pair of boxers. She had to get out of that room, she concluded, making her way to the door as fast as possible.

“Um, I gotta go give the rest of these out! Um, just find me later for the Tylenol!” Y/N called out, voice strained.

Jeongguk, from his bathroom, grunted in acknowledgement, Y/N catching the reflection of his back in the full-length mirror as he pulled off his shirt while turning the shower on– a large tattoo covered most of the skin. Feeling like she saw entirely too much of the elk hybrid’s body, Y/N sped out of the room with her heart hammering around in her chest.

Fumbling with the pouches in her hand, Y/N raced down the stairs to shake off whatever the hell had just happened. She couldn’t believe Jeongguk had just strolled past her with a smirk on his face in nothing but a flimsy tee shirt and boxers, not even waiting for her to leave the room before stripping for his shower. Spluttering as she nearly tumbled down the last step, Y/N attempted to compose herself, not wanting to appear scandalized; God forbid one of the others were traipsing through the hall at the same time.

Y/N had an inkling Jeongguk had heard her discussing scenting with the three in the kitchen, the only logical conclusion she could come up with explaining his sudden cheeky behavior. Starting to get the feeling that she wasn’t entirely prepared to get bitten by any of them, Y/N fanned herself on her way down to the basement.

A fast-paced pop song pulsed through the speakers as Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs, furrowing her eyebrows in preparation for what she was about to witness– walking in on Hoseok working out would set her straight over the edge. Nervously, she rounded the corner, holding the remaining pouches behind her back and praying they could somehow protect her from the hybrids affecting her nerves.

From where she was standing, she could get the entire view of the gym area with additional help from the large mirror covering one of the walls, a few stray dumbbells lying around and Hoseok’s bottle of water from earlier sitting on the weight bench. On the floor, sitting on a yoga mat cross-legged with his back turned to her, was Hoseok with his eyes shut. Knowing that Hoseok was aware of her presence, Y/N bravely stepped into the room, relieved he was fully clothed.

“Whatcha doing?” Y/N perched herself on the seat of the stationary bike, grinning at the way Hoseok’s tail swished on the floor at the sound of her voice. Snorting, the fox hybrid cracked one eye open to glance at her sideways.

“Meditating, or attempting to until I heard you coming down,” Hoseok replied, extending his legs into a straddle and melting his torso down to stretch his back and hips.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Y/N chuckled, glad that he seemed to be faring better compared to earlier in the morning. “I didn’t know one could meditate to Lady Gaga.”

She felt like testing just how good Hoseok’s hearing was, tossing the purple pouch she selected for him in the air and catching it in her palm, watching one of his ears flutter as he continued to stretch his arms forward with his head down. Giggling, Y/N tossed it again, this time sending it sailing towards Hoseok, her laughter cut short as his hand flung out instantly to easily catch the pouch before it could hit him in the head.

“Hey, are you messing with me?” Hoseok whined, sitting up straight and pouting at her. Curiously, he turned over the pouch in his hand, even giving it a little sniff as he raised it to his face.

“Only a little,” Y/N sighed happily, before explaining to him what the pouch was. If Hoseok thought the concept of the protection charm was silly, which Y/N half expected him to, it didn’t show on his face.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” Hoseok asked, lazily stretching his arms upwards as he stood, fumbling for his water bottle. “I might join Jimin in the sauna. He’s been in there forever, hopefully he hasn't passed out or anything.”

“Christ, he’s still in there? Shouldn’t we check on him?” Y/N jumped from her seat, alarmed. Hoseok waved her off, making his way towards the ajar pocket door of his room with a grimace.

“He’s fine. I heard him go in and out a few times, he’s probably enjoying himself. Doubt he had a sauna when he was a cowboy,” Hoseok sang, sending her a wink. “I’m gonna change and head in there myself.”

With that, Hoseok shut his door, the sound of his dresser opening and closing. Even with Hoseok brushing off her concern, Y/N found the worry that Jimin had passed out in the heat was still festering within her. Feet moving before she could process it, Y/N pushed the door to the large bathroom open, steamy air from the shower smacking her in the face. The bath and shower stall were empty, as well as the rest of the bathroom area, the sauna door shut tight.

“Jimin?” Y/N squeaked, not necessarily wanting to barge in on him if he was perfectly okay. Y/N swore she could hear Hoseok’s laughter from his room, but shook it off as her imagination.

With no answer, she crept further into the bathroom, the counters littered with Hoseok’s products from the drugstore. The mirror was fogged up, and checking the temperature dial on next to the sauna door, Y/N found that Jimin had really hiked it up. Panicking, she grasped the handle of the door with a gasp.

“Ji–” Y/N began to exclaim, the door swinging open with a gust of hot air before she could finish. Stumbling backwards at the rush of heat clinging to her skin and clothes, she yelped, noticing a perfectly conscious Jimin standing in the doorway with a cocked brow.

“You rang, Miss Y/N?” Jimin, his voice sounding relaxed, hands adjusting the towel tied around his waist.

Wanting to die at the sight of Jimin’s very bare chest, the skin glistening with condensation and muscles corded and lean, she found her words were stuck in her throat. Hoseok, from the other room, was definitely laughing at her now, the sound like an annoying buzzing fly in her ear in the midst of her humiliation.

“Oh my God! I’m sorry, I thought you passed out in here or something!” Y/N rushed out, resisting the urge to cover her eyes with a hand and bolt. Jimin’s honeyed hair was slicked back, a few strands sticking to the sculpted side of his face, a rough chuckle coming from him as he processed her reaction.

“Jimin, she has something for you,” Hoseok appeared in the doorway with a cat-ate-the-canary grin, in a similar state of undress. Feeling the walls close in on her as both half-naked hybrids stared at her expectantly, Y/N had no doubt they could hear her heart trying to break free from her ribcage. “Don’t you, darling?”

“Hoseok, please,” Y/N scolded, somewhat patronized but mostly turning to mush. “Here, Jimin. This one’s for you,” keeping her hand steady, Y/N passed one of the remaining charm bags, the fuschia one, to the coyote hybrid.

One strong hand on his towel, the other extended, Jimin took the pouch cautiously, his yellow eyes flashing from her to Hoseok. The fox hybrid began to whistle, brushing past Y/N to head into the sauna, giving Jimin a pat on his shoulder. Overwhelmed, Y/N felt out of place all at once, Hoseok’s bare lean back disappearing from her view as he settled on one of the benches in the sauna.

“This is your protection ‘charm’ I’ve been hearing about?” Jimin inquired, leaning his hip against the sink vanity as he shook the bag gently. A drop of sweat rolled down from the nape of his neck to pool in the dip of his collarbone, Y/N’s mouth drying up at the sight of it.

“It is. I better get used to that excellent hearing you all have… pretty soon there’ll be no secrets in this house!” Y/N nervously joked, averting her eyes from Jimin’s body before she combusted. Again, Jimin throatily chuckled, wiping the dewy skin of his forehead with his free hand.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Secrets can be hard to keep track of,” Jimin mused, finding a clean towel to wipe down his damp skin with a wry grin. “Thank you, by the way, Miss Y/N.”

“O-oh. Don’t thank me, I mean– you heard me, I suppose. It’s my job to protect you all, now,” Y/N watched Jimin make his way to the shower, a neatly folded pile of his clothes beside it. She wondered if now would be a good time to escape, and catch a few moments to collect herself.

“Mm-hmm, I heard…” Jimin responded distractedly, frowning at the pile of crumpled towels on the floor Hoseok likely left there. “Though respectfully, Miss Y/N, you did adopt several predatory male hybrids. I think we’re better suited to protect,” Jimin scratched his chin, turning the dial of the shower on.

Y/N knew Jimin, ever the polite gentleman, didn’t mean the comment as a confrontational statement, but she grumbled nonetheless. Balling her hands into fists, she stood her ground.

“Okay, fair. That doesn’t mean I can’t try to do the same,” Y/N insisted, realizing that Jimin also had a tattoo across the left side of his ribcage, too dazzled to notice it earlier. It was script; reading Nevermind. “Not to change the subject, but I wanted to ask you something. I’ve been meaning to take you all on a walk around the grounds, and I think it would be nice to do that later. Would you be up for that? I’ll take you to check out the old stable.”

“I’d like that. I’ll freshen up and find you later, how does that sound?” Jimin grinned, Y/N elated that she could finally make good on a promise she had made ages ago. Feeling like it was the perfect time to take her leave, Y/N headed for the door.

“Wonderful! Thanks, Jimin!” Y/N called, although unsure of what she was thanking him for. With that, she barreled up the stairs, ready to take her frustration out on stripping the rest of the staircase.

For safekeeping, Y/N slipped Namjoon’s charm bag into the pocket of her leggings, rummaging through the closet under the staircase for the scraper. Pausing, she spotted the medical kit, retrieving the bottle of Tylenol for Jeongguk and placing it on the table by Namjoon’s shut bedroom door.

Y/N got to work quickly, settling herself on the landing and scraping up the hideous varnish vigorously, as if to clear her mind of the scandalous images she had in her brain of Jeongguk, Jimin and Hoseok she had haunting her inner eye. Wondering where her portable speaker had ended up, Y/N settled for humming to herself, wishing that Yoongi was in the music room playing the piano while she worked. Losing herself in the mind-numbing task, Y/N felt herself begin to calm down from all that had happened that morning and the night before.

Y/N didn’t see much of the hybrids until late in the afternoon just before twilight, besides Jimin, who had come up from the basement to head to his bedroom for a quick nap. She had to shoo him away, as he had offered to help strip the staircase with her, but Y/N could tell Jimin needed a good rest, his eyes nearly shut when he came up from his shower. Finally, she had completed her task with the staircase, deciding to seal everything nicely with a proper finish the following day so the entryway would look nice for the upcoming cookout.

Every so often, Y/N peeked at Namjoon’s door; he hadn’t come out once to eat anything the entire day. A bit salty, especially considering he had all but demanded her to eat that morning, Y/N grumbled, hauling herself off the bottom step of the staircase and tossing the scraper into the closet. Gunshot sounds from the TV from the parlor made her jump– Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung had been in there for a good portion of the day watching action movies. Judging from the dialogue, it seemed that they had gotten their hands on her John Wick DVD collection.

Creaking of the steps behind her had her spinning on her heels, pleased to see Jeongguk making his way downstairs already in his pajamas. Trying not to giggle at how cuddly he looked, his hair fluffy from his shower, Y/N smiled brightly at the elk hybrid. Regarding her suspiciously, He leaned his hip against the banister before descending the last two steps.

“What?” Jeongguk demanded, although not rudely. Grasping the bottle of Tylenol, Y/N passed it his way, grinning further as he caught it without hesitation. With furrowed brows, he examined the bottle, realization dawned on him.

“Oh shit, I forgot I asked for these… I was just going to have a stiff drink instead,” Jeongguk admitted, unscrewing the top and tossing two capsules into his mouth. Grimacing as he swallowed them dry, Y/N winced, knowing there was no way she could ever swallow capsules like that without any water to chase them down.

“What’s for dinner?” Jeongguk asked, once Y/N tucked the bottle of pills back into the medical kit. Flinching at the sound of his voice so close to her, Y/N sighed, not exactly sure what to make at all.

“Good question. Anything you want in particular?” Y/N retorted, hoping he wouldn’t detect her obvious deflection towards making a decision. Jeongguk appeared startled by the question, his features settling quickly into contemplation.

“Pizza?” Jeongguk volunteered, Y/N rejoicing in the fact that he selected something she could have delivered. Nodding fervently, Y/N was rewarded with the tiniest half-smile from the elk hybrid.

“Miss Y/N,” Jimin appeared from behind Jeongguk’s shoulder, looking much more revived in energy after his nap. Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk stepped to the side. “Should we go for that walk before it gets dark?”

“Jimin, when are you going to drop ‘Miss’ from your vocabulary? You sound like a butler,” Jeongguk complained, an insulted expression shadowing Jimin’s face immediately. Without thinking, Y/N lightly swatted Jeongguk’s forearm, the elk hybrid swearing and staring at her with utter shock.

“Knock it off, he’s fine,” Y/N scolded, eyeing Jeongguk reproachfully. “We can go now! Jeongguk, why don’t you come with us? You can do your perimeter walk or whatever it is you like to do out there.”

“Perimeter walk?” Jeongguk enunciated, Y/N enjoying the shock coloring his handsome features. “Unbelievable,” he breathed, frowning at Jimin’s soft snickering from behind him.

“How about you two wait for me on the patio for a moment. I’d like to invite Namjoon, too. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him last,” Y/N gestured towards the kitchen, watching the two hybrids go, Jeongguk muttering about having a smoke. Y/N had half a mind to buy him a box of nicotine gum.

Steeling herself, Y/N marched to Namjoon’s door, knocking softly. She knew that Namjoon had been aware of her presence in the hallway, subjected to her incessant humming for the past few hours.

“Come in,” came Namjoon’s muffled gruff voice through the door, Y/N pushing her way in awkwardly. He was hunched over her old desk, the little lamp on the surface illuminating his tired face and ruffled silvery hair.

Hesitantly moving further into the room, Y/N stood beside him, taking a look at the open book he was still scanning, hardly looking up at her. Namjoon had found some old parchment to scribble notes on with shockingly beautiful handwriting, a couple of crumpled up pages scattered around the desk.

“How are your theories faring?” Y/N questioned, peering over his shoulder curiously. He had her book of spirits open, poring over a page about shadow people. Namjoon pulled a hand through his hair, sighing deeply as he craned his neck up to look at her.

“They’re crumbling. I’m starting to think I’ll need more information about how the spirit got here, in the first place, in order to get anywhere,” Namjoon confessed, pinching the bridge of his nose delicately.

“I think I can fill you in, at least a little bit…” Y/N answered, her guilt from earlier returning with his comment. “You’ve been cooped up in here all day. I’m about to take a walk around the backyard with Jimin and Jeongguk, why don’t you come with us? I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have.”

As usual, Namjoon searched her eyes like he was trying to find something he could dissect and understand, the amber honey color of his irises striking and oh-so-familiar to Y/N. She found it was easy to lose track of time and space locking eyes with the wolf hybrid, forgetting she was waiting for his response. Namjoon pushed the chair back so he could get to his feet, shaking out his legs.

“Alright, let’s go then,” Namjoon said simply, switching off the desk light. “I’ve run into another dead end, anyways.”

Satisfied that Namjoon had agreed to join her, Y/N hurried to keep up with his strides towards the kitchen. Curiosity still pooled within her regarding Namjoon’s apparent experience with things surrounding the supernatural, though she still hadn’t gathered the courage to ask him about it. Really, there was not much she knew about the wolf hybrid at all, even less so than all of the others, which only increased her curiosity tenfold.

Ushering Namjoon out to the patio, Y/N told him to wait there with the other two patiently sitting on the lounge chairs, rushing into the parlor to tap out pizza preferences on her phone with the input of those still preoccupied with the John Wick films. Luckily enough, Hoseok had snuck into the parlor while she had been in Namjoon’s bedroom, so she was able to take everyone’s requests down without a problem.

“Alright, shall we?” Y/N chirped, shutting the slider door behind her, taking a deep breathful of the warm August air as she stepped outside. Jeongguk stubbed out his cigarette in the standing ashtray, still grumbling like he was when Y/N scolded him.

Namjoon and Jimin flanking her either side, Jeongguk trailing closely behind, Y/N followed the beaten-down grass path towards the hedges past the picnic table. While the late afternoon was beginning to cool down, it was the perfect weather to go for a nice stroll outside, crickets singing and gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the willow trees. The grounds were quite untamed, due to being neglected by both her aging grandparents and Y/N herself preoccupied with her former work schedule, but still retained a sort of magical charm the land always possessed.

“By spring, I’m hoping I can get some of this brush under control, maybe build a garden and fix up that old guesthouse and make it into some sort of fort. That way, we can all spend more time outdoors comfortably,” Y/N thought aloud, bringing the three hybrids past a maze of hedges towards the edge of the glassy pond.

At the edge of the pond was the ‘guesthouse’, which was originally some kind of storage house in the heyday of the estate, converted by her grandparents into a three-room space for their grandchildren to spend time away from the adults during holiday get-togethers. Like the main home, it had some work that needed to be done on it, and Y/N couldn’t even remember where the key had gone to gain entry to the space. As she gazed at the round structure, akin to an enclosed gazebo, she envisioned it as a place to have movie nights with the hybrids during the summer months.

Pausing at the pond, Y/N watched Jimin skip a rock across the mirrored surface of the water, enjoying how peaceful the backyard was. Jeongguk, as she expected, had wandered off on his own, already on the opposite side of the pond, sticking his face into one of the windows of the guesthouse.

“So, about those gaps you can allegedly fill in?” Namjoon murmured, interrupting Y/N soaking up the moment. Gazing upwards, she was met with Namjoon watching Jimin with narrowed eyes, excellent at appearing nonchalant though the eager edge to his tone gave him away pretty clearly.

“Right. Ever the forward one, aren’t you,” Y/N teased, motioning for him to follow her as she began to walk the perimeter of the pond while Namjoon rolled his eyes. “You’re already aware that I practice witchcraft, so does my mother. You also seem to know my mother pretty well, so I can only assume you’ve become familiar with how uh… easy-going she can be?”

Namjoon made a noise of confirmation, urging her to get to the point.

“She taught me most of what I know about the craft. As a child, it was whimsical, easy charms and harmless glamor magic. Of course, a child becomes an edgy teenager… Well, I wanted more. My mother tended to skirt around spirit work and more aggressive forms of magic, and I guess I wanted to test out what I could do as I got older and didn’t think that I needed to hold her hand anymore,” Y/N brushed her fingers against the soft leaves of one of the hedges beside her, Namjoon silent while he listened.

“When I was sixteen, I came out here and performed a ritual. Honestly, I can’t remember the exact ritual I conducted, but I know it was to increase psychic power for myself. The ritual required calling upon spirits, ones I had never heard of before. Doing spellwork with my mother, we often called upon angels or our own personal spirit guides, even ancestors– never ones that we were unfamiliar with. I guess it was part greed, part the thrill of the unknown, that motivated me to go through with the ritual, but that’s where it all started. After that ritual, these horrifying recurring nightmares began, and I saw glimpses of the entity everywhere I went,” Y/N explained, finding it pretty easy to lay her cards on the table with her eyes trained on the beaten-down grass.

“So, you packed up everything regarding your practice in hopes that the entity would leave you alone?” Namjoon mused after a few moments, taking his time to process the new information Y/N offered. Sneaking a peek at the wolf hybrid, she found he was staring right at her intently. Blushing, Y/N nodded, tearing her eyes from his.

“Exactly that. Not a very wise plan, in hindsight, but for a while it actually worked. The nightmares stopped, and I didn’t feel like I’d catch the reflection of the entity in every mirror I looked into. It wasn’t until a few days ago when I had another nightmare and saw it in my bathroom; I have a theory as to why,” Y/N felt Jimin at her side again, the three of them making their way to the elk hybrid waiting by the bridge behind the guesthouse.

“And what’s that?” Namjoon urged, his ears perking up in her direction.

“The entity appeared to me as an old hag… It never really liked when I’d bring friends around, I believe it wanted me to feel isolated. I think when I adopted you all, that life-changing event triggered a possessive response, and the activity resumed,” Y/N waited for Jeongguk to join them when they reached the bridge at the edge of the overgrown shrubs, carrying them across a brook and into the flattened area of land with the stable in the distance.

“It was a nasty old hag alright,” Jeongguk commented, kicking a rock off of the bridge and into the brook with a grimace. “I don’t know, I’m starting to think maybe it was demonic.”

From beside her, Namjoon scoffed, moving aside so Jimin could get by him and excitedly make his way to the stable, tail swishing quickly as he went.

“What, wolf? It’s not like you’ve produced any of your ‘theories’ for us to pick apart yet,” Jeongguk made air quotes with two tattooed fingers, leaning over the railing of the bridge. “At least you weren’t totally useless in trying to get rid of it, I can admit to that much.”

“If it was a demon, I doubt we’d be going on an evening stroll right now. Even with the two of us, demonic entities are not easy to banish; and it isn’t like you’re a priest,” Namjoon sounded irritated, his beautiful face twisting into disdain.

“You don’t have to be a fucking priest to get rid of a demon, wolf,” Jeongguk groaned, producing a cigarette from behind his ear. Y/N was surprised he even had any left, at the rate he smoked. Cupping his hands to light it, Jeongguk continued with his voice somewhat muffled, “What else could it be? Not a shadow person, as it had a distinct form, which also rules out the possibility of a poltergeist. Human spirits don’t have the kind of energy to cause that amount of activity. Are you thinking it was a genie or some shit?”

Insulted, Namjoon growled beside Y/N, his fingers brushing her wrist as he curled them into a fist. Cursing under her breath, both hybrids eyeing her as she did so, Y/N prayed she didn’t have to break up a brawl, especially with Jimin several yards away placidly gazing at the crooked weathervane atop the stable roof.

“I don’t think you have the slightest idea about all of the things that are out there,” Namjoon bit, jaw tense with annoyance. “Just because you ran around with some sort of ghost-hunting crew, doesn’t mean you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Never claimed that I did,” Jeongguk retorted, though seemingly backing down once assessing how pissed the wolf hybrid had become. “I just think you should entertain the possibility that it was a fucking demon, instead of tearing through books until your eyes bleed.”

“Hey, can we just dial it down with the hostility here? You two worked so well together to banish whatever it was from the house, can’t you focus on that for a moment or two instead of bickering like a couple of middle schoolers?” Y/N placed her hands on her hips, frowning at the two of them like a disappointed teacher. Jeongguk, rolling his eyes, blew cigarette smoke in Namjoon’s direction, the wolf hybrid too busy to register the action by staring down at Y/N with astonishment.

“Let’s go join Jimin. I gotta call in the pizza in a minute, too, so tell me what you want while we walk– you can sort this out later, in a civil manner,” Y/N added, fed up with the petty arguments.

Really, she had little interest in finding out what exactly was haunting her in the first place; she was just glad it was gone. Truthfully, while Namjoon and Jeongguk were discussing it out in the backyard like that, Y/N began to feel paranoid it would return, which in consequence made her eager to change the subject. Besides, she had promised Jimin a pleasant walk around the grounds, not one rife with tension, occultish conversation subject matter, and bickering. Marching away from the two on the bridge, Y/N sought out the coyote hybrid, who was ambling into the stable’s open door.

Sheepishly, Jeongguk and Namjoon followed behind her with the sound of their sneakers squelching against the soggy grass. They reluctantly gave up their pizza topping preferences, Y/N shooting them the occasional expectant look from over her shoulder. Realizing with a jolt that she hadn’t walked that far back through the grounds in quite some time, Y/N stood before the old stable wistfully.

It wasn’t in horrible condition, just a tad rickety in some places of the structure, a peeling and weathered chicken coop attached to the side of the stable itself. The actual fenced-in pen to exercise horses if she had them was actually in worse condition than the stable; the wooden stakes making up the circular area crumbling and overgrown with moss, several prickly weeds poking up from the beaten-down dirt within the pen. When she entered the stable in search of Jimin, she was greeted with a damp hay scent coming from every direction, though the stalls for the horses were swept out completely. She spotted Jimin at the far-back wall, gazing up at the mounted saddles and reins absently. Approaching him slowly, she watched the coyote hybrid carefully take a rein into his hand, his thumb brushing over the worn leather with reverence.

“This is the longest I’ve ever gone without riding,” Jimin murumed to her, releasing the rein hanging from the wall and turning to get a wider view of the stable. “The stable at Yellowstone ranch was a lot different from this one; of course, it had to accommodate dozens of horses, ranch equipment. But still, it brings me back.”

“Do you miss the ranch?” Y/N asked quietly, saddened that Jimin seemed so far away. With a sharp intake of breath, Jimin paused before shaking his head.

“It was my home for my whole life, but I dreamed of seeing the world, meeting new people– it started to feel like a cage, being there. There’s parts I miss, my friends, riding, the wilderness. But I left for a reason, so I don’t have any regrets,” Jimin explained slowly, taking time to sort out his thoughts while he circled the stable. Processing his words, Y/N kept an eye on Namjoon and Jeongguk through the open door, the pair leaning against the pen, having a hushed conversation.

“You know, Miss Y/N, I can help you repair the stable, and with maintaining the landscape. I’m sure Taehyung would be happy to pitch in, as well. He fixed the window in your bathroom, when we noticed it was bringing in a draft last night,” Jimin suddenly mused, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes as they stood by the rickety stable door.

“I thought that might have been him,” Y/N hummed fondly, already missing the Kodiak hybrid though she had seen him not even an hour ago, lounging on the recliner lazily. “Jimin, I’d love that– honestly, I wouldn’t know where to start here. Having your expertise would put me at ease when I think about restoring something I know so little about.”

“If you have equipment, maybe a lawn mower, hedge clippers, I could start clearing stuff away as soon as tomorrow. Perhaps we should wait until spring to work on the stable?” Jimin pondered excitedly, citrine eyes roaming rapidly over the fauna of the backyard.

The equipment Jimin was referring to was left untouched in the garage, Y/N always too nervous to figure out how to operate the ride-on mower. There was a large part of her that wanted to tell Jimin not to worry about it, but as he continued to chatter on about perhaps putting a flower bed in one spot, a garden bed in another, Y/N realized that he was genuinely enthralled by the possibility of spending time outdoors. It made sense, since Jimin spent most of his life in the wilderness– being inside all day was probably a nuisance to him.

“Autumn here is typically pretty mild. There doesn’t seem to be too much we have to do to the stable, so we could definitely work on it before the winter. Now that I think about it more, if we can get it functional again, people could board their horses here for the winter. It could be another helpful source of income now that there’s so many of us…” Y/N thought aloud, making a plan in her head to contact the grandchildren of some of her grandmother’s friends and see if they’d be interested in boarding their horses there.

With her words, Jimin grew even more eager, stars in his eyes as he considered the possibility of being able to work with horses again. With the look on his face, Y/N nearly squealed with glee. She never thought making the hybrids happy would bring her an equal amount of joy, if not even more. Jimin pulled out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, tapping out a bulleted list of tasks to complete as he began to walk through the stable again. Glowing as she watched Jimin smile to himself, Y/N fumbled for her own phone once she realized the sun was starting to set so she could order dinner.

As the line rang in her ear, Y/N returned to Namjoon and Jeongguk, the two of them examining Jimin’s pacing back and forth in front of the stable. Thankfully, during her conversation with Jimin, the other two hadn’t ripped each other’s throats out.

“Sal’s, what do you need?” The raspy-voiced Italian woman working the counter at her favorite pizza place answered the phone, the sound of it as familiar as breathing.

“Angie, it’s Y/N. Can I place a take-out order?” Y/N replied, putting her finger up as Namjoon attempted to speak to her. Namjoon’s mouth flattened into a line at the action.

“Y/N! Didn’t hear from you this weekend, I almost sent Anthony in the delivery van to check for a pulse! Go ahead hun,” Angie guffawed, Y/N snorting at the thought of Anthony, the seventeen-year old grandson of the owner, pounding on her door to see if she was alive. She did order pizza most weekends.

“I’ll have a large cheese, large pepperoni. One medium veggie, a small BBQ chicken, a small Hawaiian. Can you throw in a couple of the garden salads, too, please?”

“Having a party or something?” Angie exclaimed in between shouting the order back to Sal and Sal Jr. in the kitchen. Jeongguk was waving in front of her face with urgency, Y/N mouthing ‘what’ with mild annoyance.

“The wolf wanted mozzarella sticks!” Jeongguk all but shouted, peeved that she was ignoring the two of them. Eyes shifting to Namjoon, he was shooting Jeongguk a dirty look, though his turned-down ears gave him away. Chuckling, Y/N gave him a thumbs up, interrupting Angie’s shouting into the kitchen.

“Ang, can I also get the large order of mozzarella sticks as well?” Y/N wondered if they could possibly finish all of that food, but with the way they had all devoured the rice bowls the previous night, she wanted to err on the side of having more than enough for everyone.

“You got it, hun,” Y/N could hear Sal’s muffled voice through the receiver, Angie yelling back in Italian. “Sal’s sending you a tray of tiramisu for the size of the order on the house. Anthony will be there in half an hour.”

Before Y/N could thank her, Angie hung up, likely to answer another call coming in. Her stomach growled right on cue as she thought of diving into the order of mozzarella sticks she hadn’t ordered in quite some time. Y/N smiled at the two hybrids in front of her, still fuming that she hadn’t given them her undivided attention during the phone call.

“We should head in. It’s going to get dark soon, and I have to replace the in-ground lights,” Y/N sighed, able to make out the illuminated house from off in the distance.

Though it was silly to admit to herself, she was already beginning to miss the others. Flagging Jimin down, Y/N jumped as a hand reached out to smack her bicep somewhat sharply, coughing out a choked ouch as she stared at Namjoon’s hand on her with shock.

“Mosquito,” Namjoon immediately dropped his palm, brushing the bloody remains of the mosquito from his hand onto the grass as he bent towards the earth.

“T-thanks. You just startled me, that’s all,” Y/N squeaked, still feeling the light sting of the strike. Jeongguk lifted his pierced brow at the wolf hybrid, tutting at him before heading back the way they had come by himself.

Jimin by her side, he regarded Namjoon with minor aggravation, apparently having witnessed the whole exchange with the mosquito. Shaking it off, Y/N grew cheerful again, with pizza on the way and a new plan for more money to come in. She’d definitely need the cash, especially when the first credit card bill arrived for all of the hybrid’s charges the following month.

“You’re from Montana, and worked at the Yellowstone ranch,” Namjoon suddenly directed his attention towards Jimin, both hybrids sandwiching her in between themselves snugly. Y/N grinned to herself, finding the interrogative way Namjoon phrased questions endearing.

“Yes,” Jimin replied stiffly, as if preparing himself for another cowboy comment.

“I lived in Wyoming, in the park. Close to Madison Junction,” Namjoon revealed, Y/N amazed that he was giving away some personal details. Jimin’s eyes widened in confusion.

“You lived in the park? How could you possibly– You can’t just live in the park,” Jimin stuttered, stopping short once they reached the patio. Namjoon, apparently unwilling to share anything else, shrugged, opening the sliding door for Y/N to head inside.

Swiftly, Namjoon sped into the kitchen behind Y/N, leaving Jimin looking like he was solving a complicated equation in his head. The coyote hybrid entered the kitchen shortly thereafter, breezing by Jeongguk at the island and mumbling something about retrieving the whiskey.

“Hey, how was the walk?” Whipping her head around at the sound of Yoongi’s gravelly voice, he was leaning against the entrance into the kitchen from the parlor, his tail curling around the lip of the wall.

“Hi Yoongi! It was really nice, Jimin and I were talking about plans to fix up the stable and the yard. It’ll be more pleasant to hang out back there once it’s a bit more, uh… manicured?” Y/N searched for the right word, gazing up at the ceiling.

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, laughing silently at her choice of words, slinking into the kitchen gracefully. He had softened considerably compared to his sobered state earlier in the day, much to Y/N’s relief, his arm moving past her to reach for the wine glasses. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Namjoon uncorking a bottle of wine successfully, pride washing over her as he recalled the steps she’d shown him to use the corkscrew the night before.

“Wine goes well with pizza,” Yoongi hummed from beside her, eyes narrowing in on something behind her. “Though you should be careful with the red. You’re a lightweight. You too, Namjoon.”

Both her and Namjoon scowled at the leopard hybrid, though Y/N could tell Yoongi was only half-serious in his teasing. As Namjoon poured a glass for her first, she felt Yoongi’s fingertips at the back of her head, her entire body locking up at the sensation of her hair being touched. Bewildered, she nearly dropped her glass of wine turning to look at the leopard hybrid.

Yoongi smirked, pulling his hand from her hair, a brown maple leaf pinched between his long fingers presented in front of her face. He moved away from her all too quickly, following Namjoon around to get his own glass filled as the wolf hybrid ignored him spitefully after the lightweight comment. Under her nose, Jeongguk had left the room, likely in search of that ‘stiff cocktail’ he was referring to earlier.

Sipping her wine, Y/N heard the familiar three-beat car honking, announcing Anthony’s arrival with the food. Skipping into the parlor, she spotted Jeongguk mixing up a gin cocktail by the bar cart and Jimin getting comfortable on the couch. Dropping her wine glass off on the coffee table and greeting Hoseok, Taehyung, and Seokjin fondly, she headed to the front door for the pizza with the Kodiak hybrid following close behind. He was avoiding her eyes, apparently still scandalized from the scenting conversation, though it was nice that he had resumed his habit of shadowing her. Swinging the front door open, Y/N barked out a laugh, Anthony standing on the porch almost completely obstructed from view with the stack of boxes in his arms.

“Hey, Tony! I could have helped you make a couple of trips, strongman!” Y/N teased the teenager. Because she was a reliable regular of Sal’s, she had gotten to know all of the people working there pretty well, and treated Anthony like a younger brother.

“Aw, come on, Y/N! You know I started weight training for football months ago!” Anthony complained, his thick Boston accent heightening her amusement.

Hurriedly, she rushed to take the foil tray of tiramisu, salad boxes, and the mozzarella sticks, revealing Anthony’s rounded face. Anthony grinned at her before spotting Taehyung, who hesitantly reached for the remaining boxes of pizza. Digging around in the pocket of her leggings for the cash she stuffed in there before the walk, she counted out twenties with one hand while Anthony relayed his anxieties about his senior year at the local high school.

“So who’s this, Y/N? Your boyfriend?” Anthony asked as he placed the cash in the pouch strapped around his waist, eyeing Taehyung suspiciously. Heart slamming up into her throat, she shook her head vigorously.

“O-oh! No, this is my friend, Tae,” Y/N explained nervously, thoroughly embarrassed and unable to even look at Taehyung beside her. Anthony’s face innocently cleared of any suspicion, offering Taehyung a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Tae! Hope you’re going to the cookout Friday, I’ll be there with the rest of my family. It’s more fun when there’s lots of people,” Anthony extended one of his hands for a shake, Taehyung dazedly grasping the kid’s hand and shaking it robotically.

“I’ll be there,” Taehyung murmured, the expression crossing his face one Y/N had never seen before; melancholic?

Anthony’s work phone clipped to his belt began to beep incessantly, the teen rolling his eyes at the sound.

“I gotta fly. The Ramseys on the other side of town are going to want their calzones,” Anthony called over his shoulder, jogging back to the van he parked on the street. “See you Friday, Y/N, Tae!”

Hurrying into the house, Y/N heard Taehyung shut the door tightly. The look that had crossed his face had vanished, replaced by the composed stoicism Taehyung intrinsically possessed. Biting her lip, Y/N slowly made her way down the hall towards the parlor, shifting into apology mode.

“Sorry about that. I’m at this pizza place all the time, and I’ve grown pretty close to the family. That was Anthony, the owner’s grandson… he’s kind of like the younger brother I never had,” Y/N explained, Taehyung making a noise of acknowledgement softly.

“Why are you apologizing? He was nice, I could tell he was just worried about you,” Taehyung returned, bending down a few inches to get a good look into her eyes. Startled, Y/N’s felt heat rise up her neck, the Kodiak hybrid closer to her than she was ready for. “You called me Tae again. I really like when you do that.”

With that, Taehyung flashed her a sweet smile, speeding off in front of her to drop the pizza boxes on the coffee table and leaving her reeling in the hallway. Moving slowly, Y/N entered the lively room, everyone already attacking the boxes like a bunch of wild animals, Yoongi and Jimin trying their best to establish some order. Dropping her own armful of takeout on the table, Y/N sunk to the floor by Hoseok’s feet by the couch. Slice of pizza in one hand, wine glass in the other, Y/N settled in to catch the middle of The Mummy that one of them had put on, enjoying the various conversations between the hybrids around her.

Stuffed to the gills with tiramisu, Y/N sluggishly brushed her teeth in her bathroom after an evening of action films and way too much pizza. One of the highlights of the evening was the passionate argument about whether or not The Mummy was corny (it was) between Seokjin and Hoseok, Seokjin declaring it ‘epic’ and Hoseok lamenting its quality overall. She had to admit, it was corny, but she loved the film, the chemistry between the two leads undeniable and spellbinding.

Ready to crash face-first into her pillow, Y/N yanked a comb through her hair, turning off the light in her bathroom without fear flooding through her for the first time in weeks. Changing into a light tank top and shorts pajama combination, Y/N could hear Jeongguk stomping around in his bedroom, the elk hybrid perhaps one gin cocktail over his limit. She wasn’t about to stop him from pouring them, even as he began to sing along to the soundtrack of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World during the tail-end of the movie marathon, as he was one of the primary reasons she could sleep with the lights off that night. For someone that looked like a member of a nu-metal band, Jeongguk had the voice of an angel.

Considering she had taken it easy on the wine, not only because Yoongi and Hoseok were monitoring her intake, but because she didn’t want to be drunk if God forbid the entity returned and she would have to jump in and protect the others, she still felt woozy. Y/N knew that she was being paranoid, being somewhat convinced that the entity would return. It wasn’t like she didn’t trust Jeongguk and Namjoon in their confidence that it was gone and doubted their efforts, but because it had been haunting her for so long, it was hard to believe it was truly banished from her life. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, the ability to move easier than it had been in ages. As Y/N went to toss her leggings in the hamper, she felt a lump in one of the pockets, furrowing her eyebrows.

Mouth dropping open, Y/N fished out the forest green protection pouch she had made for Namjoon out of the pocket, internally scolding herself for not giving it to him earlier. Too preoccupied with the walk of the grounds, exciting movies and pizza, she totally forgot that he was the only one without a pouch, growing nervous. Because he was one of the two that performed the actual ‘mystery ritual’ that got rid of the entity, Namjoon having the pouch was a priority to her. Chewing at the inside of her cheek, she debated whether or not to simply drop by his room and hand it off if he was still awake, but it was pretty late and she felt funny about disturbing him at that hour.

She left the pouch on her nightstand, clambering onto her bed with a groan. Her limbs were aching; she had a full day considering the disturbed sleep she had gotten the night prior. While she physically felt bone-tired, her brain was going a million miles per minute, trying to process every single interaction she had with each hybrid during the day. Embarrassingly enough, she felt that she hadn’t seen nearly enough of Seokjin, who kept a bit of a distance from her since the discussion between herself, him, Yoongi and Taehyung over breakfast. Her thoughts floated from Seokjin to Hoseok, the fox hybrid’s uncharacteristic clingy actions flooding into her mind.

As she lounged over her made-up bed, she recalled how lax Hoseok became in her embrace that morning, comparing it to the way Taehyung had arched his spine into her hand when she soothed her hand down his back. Most of the hybrids had begun to seek out physical touch with her, apart from Jeongguk, who tended to keep his space. Even then, when she had tiptoed into his bedroom, Y/N could swear she could still feel the strong grip of his hand wrapped around her wrist, hours later.

Running a hand through her hair, Y/N took a deep breath once she realized her heart began to race once more. At this rate, she thought, she would suffer from a heart attack. She couldn’t wait to see Laura and Alice at the cookout, perhaps whisking them out of earshot to describe the kinds of emotions that had begun to blossom within her. It had been a long time since Y/N had felt frazzled in that way, and she knew Laura and Alice would be able to offer her a little bit of insight once they met the hybrids.

Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted by rapt knocking at her bedroom door, her features pulling into confusion as she hauled herself off of her bed. She couldn’t guess who would be on the other side of the door as she grasped the handle, hoping that whoever it was didn’t have a paranormal sighting.

Pulling the heavy door open, Y/N allowed her eyes to adjust to the low lighting of the hallway after being used to the lamplight of her bedroom. Before her was Namjoon, dressed in his sleepwear and hair mussed as if he’d been pulling at it. Swallowing thickly as she searched his face for signs of distress, she found unsurprisingly that his emotions were difficult to decipher.

“What’s up? Are you okay?” Y/N whispered, trying her best not to disturb the others in the household. Namjoon pressed a palm to his face, his body language stiffer than usual.

“No, I’m not,” Namjoon admitted roughly, his eyes looking more dangerous than ever. Shifting from one foot to another with anxiety, Y/N began to panic that the entity had returned, assessing the dewy sweat that was accumulating across his forehead.

“What’s wrong, Namjoon?” Y/N all but begged, hating the expression of thinly veiled discomfort settling over the wolf hybrid’s entire form.

“I– I have to…” Namjoon pushed his way past her bedroom door, making Y/N stumble backwards towards the foot of her bed as he towered over her. “I can’t push it d-down. My head’s splitting.”

Her breath quickening, Namjoon continued to stalk towards Y/N in a predatory manner until her ass hit her mattress, her knees buckling as she landed on the soft surface. Gulping, her mind began to go to several different places; Namjoon’s profile on the database, Laura and Alice’s concerns, scenting. Namjoon appeared possessed, his constant restraint absent as he kneeled on the floor before her, eyebrows pinched in pain. Skin burning as he grasped one of her knees, Y/N gasped at the contact of his strong hand on her bare flesh, unable to break away from the way his eyes had turned devilish.

“N-namjoon, what are you–?” Y/N breathed, the wolf hybrid shuddering as she said his name, halting her from speaking further by bringing his face inches away from hers.

“Have to. I need…” Namjoon slurred, his eyes dropping down to the exposed skin of her throat. His grip on her knee tightened, his fingernails digging into the flesh sharply, the situation suddenly dawning on Y/N completely.

“O-okay, Namjoon, it’s okay. Do what you need to do,” Y/N encouraged shakily, stunned that the night had taken such a turn, and all too curious to find out what scenting was like.

While she was expecting one of them to initiate what was about to happen soon, her near last guess as to who was first to do so was Namjoon. Upon hearing the words that left her mouth, Namjoon growled from the back of his throat, using his free hand to wrap around the nape of her neck and yank her forward. Bracing herself against his strong shoulders by instinct, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, feeling Namjoon’s hot breath against the junction of her throat and collarbone. She heard the wolf hybrid inhale deeply, his body trembling under her fingertips with the heady scent that spilled from her neck.

“S-shit,” Namjoon groaned, the hand around the back of her neck growing firmer and the other traveling from her knee to the small of her waist to bring her closer to him, Y/N’s torso going flush with his own. Namjoon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, Y/N’s hands migrating downwards from his shoulders to his biceps as her breath began to come out in tiny gasps. “'S’gonna hurt, I’m s-sorry.”

Curling her fingertips into the thick muscles of Namjoon’s biceps, Y/N felt the eager press of Namjoon’s plush lips to the sensitive skin of her throat, a quick flick of his tongue tasting the flesh. Before she could process the jolting sensation, Namjoon bared his teeth, the two pointed incisors nicking the thin skin before sinking into it like a hot knife through butter. The pain was sharp, intense, Y/N yelping as her fingernails dug into Namjoon’s arms, the wolf hybrid stiffening as he latched onto her.

As quick as the pain came, a euphoric numbing sensation replaced it even with his teeth still in her neck, her body growing slack in his grip as her blood flowed into Namjoon’s mouth. A whine came through her throat involuntarily, Namjoon’s teeth pulling from her flesh swiftly. Replacing his teeth came the heavy drag of his tongue laving over the punctures thoroughly, the action clearing every thought from Y/N’s mind. With the action of his tongue soothing the wound, Namjoon’s muscles began to relax under Y/N’s hold significantly. So this is scenting, Y/N thought dazedly, completely bewildered.

With a final brush of his full lips over the site of the mark, Namjoon reluctantly pulled away from her neck, coming eye-level with her. Y/N giggled stupidly, feeling lightheaded as Namjoon rose from his knees, both arms curling around her waist gently to lift her from her seated position. Carefully, Namjoon shifted her weight to one arm, using the other to draw back her quilt and bed sheets, lowering her down onto the mattress gingerly. After covering her quaking body with the quilt, Y/N already missing the heat that radiated off of the wolf hybrid, Namjoon bent over the bed, pushing hair off of her forehead softly.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon whispered, seeming more at ease than Y/N ever remembered him to be. All signs of distress had melted from his features, an air of relief clinging to him strongly as he stared down at her.

Trying to nod weakly, Y/N watched a strange smile dance across Namjoon’s face, a drop of her blood still clinging to his bottom lip. Tiredly, Y/N reached up, swiping her thumb against his lip, collecting the drop and letting her hand fall limply, Namjoon’s pupils blown wide. Pulling away from her proximity, Namjoon reached to switch off her nightstand lamp.

“Wait! The charm… that one is yours,” Y/N mumbled, limblessly pointing to the pouch beside the lamp. Hand stilling, Namjoon scooped up the pouch, expression sobering.

“G’night, Namjoon,” Y/N murmured, her eyelids beginning to become heavy as she tracked his movements towards her bedroom door. She swore she heard a response, regretful that he couldn’t stay as she immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next day passed in a blur. Y/N was called away by her mother early Wednesday morning to spend the majority of the day taking her and her grandmother to brunch, the botanical garden, and then shopping at the plaza nearby. Y/N hadn’t left anyone in charge when she departed in the morning, though she eyed Yoongi in particular for leadership when she stressed to everyone to remain civil with one another as a handful of them saw her off in the foyer.

That morning, Y/N hardly remembered the events leading up to her falling asleep until she looked in the mirror while brushing her teeth– Namjoon’s mark left from his scenting appearing starkly in her reflection. Grateful for the blustery weather, Y/N covered the mark up with her large Ghost sweatshirt she picked up the last time the band was on tour, scrambling out of the door before any of the hybrids could suspect something awry. Namjoon was not one of the hybrids present upon seeing her off before her outing, much to her disappointment and surprise.

Throughout the day, she was comforted by the fact that she could stay in touch with the hybrids she had left at home through text. Jimin had sent her several articles on stable restoration, and Hoseok had asked how she had slept with several emojis. She found it odd, however, that her mother hardly asked her a single question about the hybrids, even with her grandmother out of earshot– concerning her for some small reason she could not place.

As she trudged through a stuffy department store with her mother and grandmother, absently Y/N was comforted that her sleep was dreamless, free from the horrid nightmare that had plagued her since she had adopted the hybrids. Admittedly, she was nervous about leaving them behind, thoughts surrounding Jeongguk’s abrasiveness between everyone who met his eyes, everyone’s obvious avoidance towards Taehyung, and Hoseok’s fear of Namjoon in general, occupied most of the afternoon with her mother and grandmother. All that she could do was trust that they would get along until her return– they’d have to get used to it anyway, when she began her part-time job at Judy’s.

Y/N expected herself to be more shaken up once she remembered how Namjoon had scented her the night before. Truthfully, she found herself feeling more at peace when she woke up than ever before, the hazy memory only coming back to her once she saw the bite in the mirror. In truth, the ritual was a lot less painful than she was expecting. If anything, the pain lasted for half a second, the agony immediately replaced with an addictive soothing effect; and the closeness of the situation was the most overwhelming sensation of all.

With her eyes glazed over, Y/N stared at a cashmere sweater on a mannequin for several moments, trying to recreate in her mind how Namjoon had grasped the back of her neck with need, pulling her in by her waist into his proximity. She was totally unprepared for Namjoon to be the one to seek her out first, her whole body flushing from head to toe as his blissed-out expression filled her imagination. She was ripped from her reminiscing by her mother, asking her if she was feeding her hybrids a well-balanced diet. To her relief, her mother hadn’t brought up Namjoon, almost as if she sensed Y/N knew less about his situation than she did.

She thanked the sky that her mother had spared her grandmother the information that Y/N had adopted the seven hybrids, once they dropped her off back at the house. Y/N knew that she’d have to tell her unnervingly brilliant grandmother the truth come Friday, but the fact that her mother allowed her to put it off until then came as an unexpected gift. As she heaved herself up the steps of the front porch, Y/N could hear several of the hybrid’s voices from the backyard, likely enjoying the first sunny day since they had arrived at the house. Her insides warming up, Y/N unlocked the front door hurriedly, eager to both join them and check to see if Namjoon was faring better than he had been when he knocked on her bedroom door the previous night.

It was later in the afternoon, the house somewhat darkened as she let herself in. She could smell something spicy stewing away in the kitchen; likely Yoongi’s dinner menu. Kicking off her sneakers, Y/N yawned, a bit drained from having to explain to her grandmother three separate times why she had decided to leave her job at the animal hospital. From upstairs, she heard an object crash to the floor loudly, making her flinch a foot into the air.

She was on the second floor before she knew it, eager to know what had caused the sound. If it was the hag spirit again, Y/N wanted to be the one to not only see it, but confront it as well. Heart racing, she tore through the common spaces, briefly peering into Yoongi, Jeongguk, and Taehyung’s rooms without so much of a clue as to what had fallen. Puzzled, Y/N frowned, pausing by the shut door of Seokjin’s room. Cautiously, she paused to listen for any further movement, but heard nothing.

“Seokjin? Are you in there?” Y/N called, though she was fairly confident she heard his voice in the backyard when she was dropped off. In response came a pained groan, one most definitely coming from the jaguar hybrid as she had heard it once before. Unhesitatingly, Y/N shoved the door open, worried he had somehow injured himself.

Beside the door to his bathroom, Seokjin had collapsed on his side, the wavy tips of his blue-black hair damp with sweat as he gasped for breath on the floor. Swearing colorfully, Y/N flew to his side, kneeling beside him and grasping one of his hands to squeeze securely. His cheeks were pink, gazing at her through heavily-lidded eyes.

“Oh my God, Seokjin! What happened, honey?” Y/N panicked, using her free hand to cup the shape of his sweat-dewed cheek.

Seokjin murmured something incoherently, his thick eyebrows pulled together in agony. Feeling an anxiety attack about to come on, Y/N moved her fingers down his cheek to check his pulse at the base of his throat, the jaguar’s eyes rolling back into his skull as she did so. Y/N could hardly count the beats per minute, his pulse was racing so quickly, sending her further into frenzy mode.

“Seokjin! Can you hear me? Honey, hey, look at me,” Y/N pleaded, her hand returning to the side of his face. She knew she should try to get help from some of the others, but had no intention of leaving his side, a heavy moan tearing from his throat. “Seokjin!”

Her name forced its way out from between his teeth, his weak hold on her hand tightening a degree. Scanning his crumpled form for any obvious injuries but not able to detect one, Y/N swore once more. Beginning to hyperventilate, Y/N released his hand, using her arm to snake around his back and sit him upright, not knowing what else to do in that moment but cradle him close and try to calm both him and herself down. With his quivering body pressed close to her own, Y/N ran a hand down his back, feeling fever chills begin to rock through him.

“Y-Y/N. Didn’t know it would h-happen so soon,” Seokjin miraculously choked out, Y/N stilling completely as he spoke. “You l-left, and I got s-sick…”

It crashed down onto her, realizing that Seokjin was experiencing what Namjoon had the night before, but his condition had worsened since she wasn’t around the entire day. Seokjin had likely gone throughout the entire day feeling the intense discomfort Namjoon had displayed the night prior, the delayed relief only making him feel feverish and weak. Feeling sick with guilt, Y/N pulled Seokjin’s face draped over her shoulder with two cupped hands, attempting to look him square in his clouded sunset eyes.

“Seokjin, listen to me, I know you can hear me,” Y/N urged calmly, her anxiety dissipating now that she knew what was going on. “I’m here now.”

Gently, Y/N pushed Seokjin’s head into the crook of her neck, on the opposite side where Namjoon had left his mark. Seokjin’s body began to shiver more violently in her arms due to the concentration of her scent at the base of her throat, the jaguar hybrid making the first bone-chilling growl she had ever heard from him. The jaguar hybrid’s arms snaked around her body, pulling her into his lap securely. Holding onto his broad back for dear life, Y/N braced herself for the inevitable sting of his incisors piercing her flesh.

The plump petals of Seokjin’s lips parted on her skin, searing the flesh as he mouthed at it mindlessly, before he sunk his teeth into her, Y/N grasping a fistful of his hair at the feeling, spots clouding her vision. While Seokjin was gentler than Namjoon even in his feverish delirion, Y/N was overwhelmed immediately, the high that came directly after the bite with the soft brush of Seokjin’s tongue over the bleeding flesh hurdling her over the threshold of consciousness, becoming completely limp in Seokjin’s arms.

The predator closed in on its prey.

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

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #hybrid au #bts ot7 x y/n #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fanfic #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic

725 notes · View notes

sakyhana13 · 4 days

Text

I have a Hazbin Hotel fanfiction where Vaggie is a Carmine and here I have a compilation of memes of the Carmine girls and their dynamics in this dubious fanfiction that hasn't come out yet.

The relationship between the three of them is basically that typical sibling thing: "Mommy found you in the trash, but if someone said that to you, I'll want names."

They will pick on each other, but in the end, they will be sleeping cuddled up in a pillow fort with Clara moving restlessly around the bed, Odette with all the sheets to herself and Vaggie curled up in a ball like a cat.

Clara and Odette are somewhat protective of Vaggie, because she is their youngest sister and even though she vehemently denies being treated like the baby of the house, claiming that she is an adult with the body count and PTSD of a retired war soldier, no one cares. , she is the baby of the house and nothing will change that. Let Charlie say it, after a short conversation with the older Carmine sisters, she came out pale and shaking (she thinks she would faint when her future mother-in-law talked to her).

Odette is the oldest sister, Clara is the middle child and Vaggie as previously mentioned is stuck as the youngest child.

Clara is chaotic, extroverted and clearly has ADHD. She is the artist daughter, theater and cinema are her passions, even in hell she still writes some scripts and records short shorts during her days off, when she is not doing odd jobs as a DJ in the clubs in the lust ring (Carmilla obviously doesn't know from that). She is usually the one who gives the bad ideas, the one who drags her other two sisters into adventures or misadventures. She is a talker, a person who knows how to deal with the public, a stellar negotiator and salesperson. And well, she will do everything, everything, to make her sisters happy.

Odette is obviously the child whose mind never stops thinking of new ideas and theories. She is the inventor of the weapons produced by the Carmines industries, but she has her personal projects that don't involve military weapons, like gadgets to make her life easier, like her little robotic assistant ASSIs and her hellish computer because she's not using the fucking technology manipulated by the Vees. She's basically an Entrapta, autistic technological genius inventor. And it all started because she saw a plane take off and she wanted to do something similar. Carmilla had to prevent her daughter from meeting Jesus a few times (all 3 of them in fact, being little devils who got into trouble whether they wanted to or not). She just seems to be controlled and less chaotic than Clara, but anyone is less chaotic than the middle Carmine, but don't be fooled, just like the entrapta she's a bit of a mad scientist, but she and Vaggie usually reverse each other in controlling chaos. , normally she will agree with Clara's ideas at first and then bitterly regret having gone. Despite this, she feels responsible for her little sisters, so that they stay safe and well, she would do heinous things to care for and support the two idiots that her mother did the favor of tying her to forever.

And then we have Vaggie, you know how she is. But before the fall, even before her time as an exorcist, she was a quiet and shy but extremely curious child. She wasn't an artist like Clara or an inventor like Odette, in fact she was an explorer. Your eyes seeking to learn about the world around you, especially the little animals among the leaves. Loving every second he could spend outdoors watching the little ants do their work or exploring the forest or beach near his childhood home. Vaggie strangely has a chaotic streak, but is it completely by accident or because she went along with her sisters, usually she will be the voice of reason, but when is she not? Well, maybe hell's heaven will turn yellow and hot pink. Vaggie is autistic and I don't have much else to say other than: I love this headcanon and you can pry it from my cold, dead hands. Plus Vaggie would definitely lose her other eye to protect her sisters if she had to, but she'll never admit it, because she'll never hear the end of it if those two scoundrels hear it.

Yes, Carmilla has chaotic and neurodivergent daughters who would knock God off the throne if it were for their sisters, their mother is very proud.

(Sorry for the bad English, it's not my language, and the crazy text, but I've had this in my head for a while and I wanted to get it out, because I don't know when I'm going to write a fic with it.)

#vaggie hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel carmilla #odette hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #clara carmine #odette carmine

41 notes · View notes

002yb · 8 months

Note

Im a sucker for your jealous and possesive Dick agenda! So heres a thought: Dick fucking Jason so good and making sure Slade knows that, so he knows nobody can please Jay like him

The scenario: a classic misinterpretation of the facts situation that leads to a lot of first and second hand embarrassment. ԾᴗԾ

It's Jason. He's the only one embarrassed.

Anyway, Dick overhears half of a conversation between Jason and Slade. And Dick doesn't even ask about it; jealousy immediately gets the best of him and he gets a little intense, a little psychotic.

And Jason isn't stupid. He puts together what's happened right away but he loves it. Like hell he's going to explain the problem away and temper the storm Dick becomes.

It's not any different from normal for Dick to be consuming and overwhelming with his passions, but he goes about it in a different way this time around and it gets Jason going, hot damn.

Jason wouldn't say Dick seems particularly threatened, but he must be. Maybe it's because Slade is involved? Those two always get weird about each other, so maybe. Jason will have to keep that in mind (for future tomfoolery)

Dick wanting to be sure Jason will feel him even after Jason goes. Him wanting Jason to walk away from this with Dick spilling between his legs. Him wanting whoever Jason sees next (Slade) to know Dick had him and that Dick fucked him better and oh, if that doesn't draw a delighted shiver up Jason's spine.

Nice in theory, not in practice after the fact. Because while Jason is glowing, body ridden with love bites and bruises in the shape of Dick's hands and teeth -- Jason is late for the fucking job Slade called him out on. He can't walk.

Jason straight up tumbles out of bed and is horrified because hindsight is a bitch. He was too busy getting his rocks off to consider how it might impact his body the following day!!

It was exciting though. Dick is hot when he lets himself be aggressive. ;A;

Meanwhile Dick looks so damn smug and content as he waves Jason off.

Anyway, Jason gets to the appointed meeting point with Deathstroke but it's very apparent that Jason isn't in good condition. Jason still can't walk without a limp; he can't support his own weight without grimacing.

And omg Slade heaves a sigh at the lack of professionalism and Jason is so embarrassed because he knows ahhhhhhh.

When it slips that it was Dick that put Jason in such condition, Slade's mood shifts from exasperated to smug. Proud, even and Jason is ━Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||)━ because what is happening?

Idk I got a lot of feelings for Slade being really weird about Dick in really weird ways. Like they're not friends or partners, but Dick is still his boy, y'know? Get it.

Then Jason comes home later and Dick is preened and ready for the details on how Deathstroke took to Jason's ravished appearance. Was he jealous? And Jason is perpetually red faced, flustered because no, not even close. Jason was on a job it sucked. ;n;

And Dick goes from possessive jackass to doting boyfriend because ooooooooh shit, oh no, is Jason okay ah, fuck @////@

Jason loves when Dick gets a little dark and dangerous when he's intimate, but hell. Jason isn't picky. He just loves Dick. He'll gladly bask in being treated like the pillow princess he sometimes is.

#dickjay #possessive!dick grayson #jealous!dick grayson #jaydick

99 notes · View notes

rainylana · 2 years

Text

romantic<3

eddie x tiktok trends lol

you jumped to your feet when you heard his van pull in, crunching the gravel and headlights shining into the kitchen window. you giggled as you assumed the position, curled up on the couch and pushing down the blanket by your feet, hoping it looked like you had kicked it off in your sleep.

you and robin had playfully argued that eddie was not much of a romantic boyfriend. you were trying to disprove her theory, so you wanted to see what he would do if he walked in and found you “asleep.”

You pressed your cheek against the arm of the couch, squeezing your eyes shut and relaxing your body. You covered your mouth with your arm so you wouldn’t break out in a cheeky smile. You heard him shuffle through his keys and mutter curses under his breath, trying to find the right one to fight the lock.

The door was pushed in and Eddie tripped on his way in, falling to the floor with the case of beer he had just boughten. “Shit!” He snapped. “Babe, are you-”

His mane of hair dangled in the air over his shoulders as he gripped the coffee table beside him for support, one knee on the floor and the other up. His mouth hung open in stilled words as his eyes found you sprawled out on the couch, eyes closed and blanket tangled at your feet.

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh.

You could hear him struggle to stand, tossing his keys on the table beside him. His boys slowly got louder in your ears, and you felt the tip of his finger ghost over your forehead. Do something romantic so I can prover her wrong.

His footsteps disappeared into the other room, and you peaked your eye open, gasping quietly. “That bastard.” What was he doing?

You seen his shadow and immediately dropped back down, relaxing your face to try and seem asleep. You heard him approach you and your heart quickly sped up in anticipation. You screamed when a pillow was shoved over your face and began smothering you, loud cackles echoing in your ear as you shot up.

“What the fuck!” You screeched, the pillow dropping from your face. Eddie was dying laughing, doubled over as he clapped his hands and pointed at your face. “What was that for?” You huffed, eyes wide incredulously.

“I knew you weren’t sleepin’, y/n.” He wheezed, eyes twinkling with joy.

“So your thought was to smother me to death?” You panted out of breath, face flushed and red.

“Well, no,” He chuckled, hand holding his chin as he composed himself. “What exactly were you doing?”

You scoffed, scooted to the back of the couch and throwing the pillow to the floor. “I was trying to prove to Robin you could be romantic. I was hoping for maybe a- uh, I don’t know, a kiss or to be covered up! Not to be murdered.”

He frowned playfully at your pout. “Aww, did I hurt my baby’s feelings?” He kneeled in front of you, fixing your wild hair that he had messed up.

“Yes.” You said stiffly, only playing around. “I’m mad at you.”

“I’m sorry.” He kissed your knuckles. “Anything I can do to make up for it?”

You pursed your lips and crossed your arms. “How’d you know I wasn’t asleep?”

He snickered against your fingers, hand trailing up your arm. “Because you snore.”

“I do not!” You snapped, sitting up quickly. “You take that back, Eddie Munson!”

“I cannot tell a lie, sweetheart.” He held up his hands, a smirk plastered on his face. “You snore like a goddamn freight train.”

You gasped dramatically, giving him a small shove. “And I had the audacity to think you’d be romantic! Next time I’ll just let Robin trash talk you.”

“Romantic, huh?” He wiggled his brows and stuck his tongue out between his teeth. “You want to be romanced, sweetheart?”

“Not anymore, I don’t.” You stuck your nose up, cringing when he planted a puckered kiss on the tip. Then on your cheek, the corner of your mouth, making them loud and sloppy, tickling your skin. “Quit it, Eddie! I’m mad at you!” You smiled, trying to squirm away from him.

“But I thought you wanted romance?” He went down your neck, smiling against your warm skin as his fingers poked at your sides. You squealed loudly and bucked against the couch, laughing out into hysterics when he climbed atop of you and tickled your stomach.

“I’ll give you romance then, baby.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson thoughts #eddie the banished #eddie the brave

632 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 2 years

Text

doc - steve harrington

summary: After Steve takes a beating in the Upside Down, he lets the group's resident doctor (in theory) take a look at his injuries. It turns out the best way to get close to the girl you like is nearly dying.

a/n: isn't it funny that as soon as i say i have no inspiration to write for stranger things this comes to me out of nowhere. like so funny right 😐😐 anyways enjoy

wc: 3.2k

warning(s): some stevie insecurities, mentions of injuries but nothing graphic, probably inaccurate medical stuff, bad writing

The moment Steve crossed the threshold of your house, he stumbled. If it weren’t for your continued insistence that he needed your help winning over his continued insistence that he was fine, he would’ve taken a nasty fall.

“Woah!” you exclaimed, and just as quickly as he felt his legs give out beneath him you were there to support him. You hoisted his arm around your shoulders to help him get back on his feet, and though he could tell you were trying your best to act impassive, you still let out a small grunt as almost his full body weight was put against you. “Can you walk?”

He nodded, not completely sure, but he was more concerned about you than himself at the moment. “To your sofa? Probably.”

“Good enough for me,” you muttered.

His legs still felt wobbly, but the two of you managed to make it work as you equal parts walked, hobbled, and stumbled over to your destination. Steve practically fell on the sofa the moment he lost your support—it turned out his little galavant around the Upside Down had taken a bigger toll on him than he’d thought.

Right. The Upside Down.

You, Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Eddie all had the privilege of journeying through the alternate dimension—not by choice, exactly, but an enjoyable time nonetheless—and after nearly escaping death a fair amount of times, you just barely managed to make it out with your lives. With the combination of the demobats, the barely breathable atmosphere, the vines connected to the hive mind all over the place, and Vecna’s last minute possession of you to get his message across—well, with how lucky they all got, Steve figured his next stop had to be a gas station for a lottery ticket.

But he had gotten torn up to hell and back by those bats, and the second you were out of the Upside Down you insisted on taking Steve back to your place to clean, redress, and check on his injuries.

(When you said you wanted to take him back to your house, Steve had grinned at you. “Takin’ me back to your place, huh? I like the sound of that.” When you presented bleeding out in Eddie’s trailer as his other option, his bravado dropped pretty quickly.)

And so that was why Steve was here, in the house of his kinda-sorta-maybe crush, trying to figure out how to make a move in the midst of this makeshift doctor’s checkup.

You crouched down in front of him, and Steve smiled as you tried to work out a knot in your shoulder without him noticing. “How do you feel?” you asked.

“Uh, like a mess,” he said, and he pushed himself up against the pillows to avoid the crick in his neck that was already forming. He winced at the movement, screwing his eyes shut as a jolt of pain shot through him. Now that he was fully out of danger and the unhealthy amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins was gone, Steve was feeling the full extent of his injuries. It did not feel particularly good. “Like I got fucked up by a ton of demon bats.”

You chuckled and went to move aside his vest. But your fingers had barely touched the denim when you froze, your wide eyes staring right at him. “Uh—is this okay? To— to take it off, I mean. So I can see the full extent of your injuries.”

Steve couldn’t help but grin, the slightest bit smug, at your reluctance. He was pretty sure he could’ve been dying in front of you and you would still ask. “Go ahead, doc. S’long as you’re not doing it to ogle me.”

Your eyebrows shot all the way to your hairline, and it was completely adorable. Your hand darted back immediately and you stood up, clearing your throat as you hurried over to your kitchen. He couldn’t help but chuckle—how could he not tease you when you reacted like this?

“Do it yourself,” you said, and you started rifling through your cabinets. “I need to find some stuff to make sure you don’t die from… whatever those things might’ve had. Interdimensional rabies, or Upside Down tetanus or something.”

He frowned as he shrugged out of the vest—he made a mental note to give that back to Eddie. “Robin said the same thing. Do you think I… actually have rabies?”

You snorted. “No, idiot. I’m just joking.”

“Right,” he nodded, “right. Me too.”

You laughed, and Steve smiled at the sound of it. He made another mental note, to ask you out when all of this was over. There was something about nearly dying that put everything into perspective.

“Uh, are your parents home?” It probably wasn’t the best thing to ask in this situation, but hey—the last thing he needed was some overprotective dad coming downstairs and seeing his daughter and a shirtless guy. Steve knew that context wasn’t really needed for him to get kicked out.

You shook your head. “Nope. They’re both at work until 5—we’re good for a while.”

He nodded. “That’s a relief.”

“Back to the subject: I don’t think you have anything,” you said. “But I do think you’re gonna need to take it easy for a while. You could’ve really fucked up some stuff—I mean, we have no idea if those bats are venomous, and they bit you a ton of times.”

“I’m also kinda screwed if they’re poisonous,” Steve said with a frown. “I bit one of ‘em—got its blood all in my mouth. Really disgusting.”

You sighed. “Great. Even better.”

“How do you know all of this?” Steve asked, trying to lighten up the mood. But then he glanced down at his injuries, grimacing at just the sight of it, and he understood why you were so worried—those bats really got him. “What, did you really pay attention in health?”

You made a dismissive noise. “No. I, uh, I wanted to study pre-med, but I can’t really afford to go to med school, so all this is just my own interest and research combined with the classes I could take at Hawkins. I’m CPR certified though, if that makes you feel better?”

He chuckled. “I trust you. Don’t worry.”

“Famous last words,” you joked.

“It’s actually pretty cool that you learned all this on your own, though.” Steve watched you as you walked back over, a bottle of Tylenol, a bottle of off-brand aspirin, and a roll of paper towels wrapped up in one arm, as well as a glass of water in your free hand. “Does that mean I should stop calling you doc?”

“No!” you exclaimed, and you blinked as if you didn’t expect it to come out that strongly. “I mean, no. You don't have to. I— I like it.”

“Good,” he said with a smile. Flustering you was becoming one of his favorite things. “I like it too.”

You cleared your throat yet again, which Steve was realizing was your favorite way to segue, and you set down the four items on the table. “Take two pills out of whatever kind you like better and get them down with water, then finish that glass. You’re probably—no, definitely— severely dehydrated.”

“You got it, doc.” Steve did as you said, only wincing a bit as he swallowed the pills from his minor brush with strangulation.

Satisfied, you got up and went to the bathroom. A minute and a lot of rustling later, you came back holding a pretty big first aid kit. You opened it, taking out gauze pads, bandages, a small bottle of isopropyl alcohol, and some cotton balls. You took his glass of water and went back into the kitchen, returning with two refilled cups.

“Finish this again,” you said, handing it to him. “Don’t need you fainting on me.”

He smiled. “I’d never.”

You rolled your eyes, but you kneeled down next to the couch and looked at him. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, “whatever you like.”

You coughed and turned away for a moment, and he couldn’t help but laugh. You were so easy to tease, and so damn cute when you got all flustered. How could he not?

“Sorry,” he said, not that sorry. “Yeah, you can. Whatever you gotta do to make sure I don’t die.”

“Thank you,” you said, and Steve was sure that if he wasn’t so injured, you would have smacked him for that.

You touched your fingers lightly against his chest, and he immediately winced. “Does that hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“How much? Scale of one to ten.”

“A six. I think.”

You nodded. “Well… Hold your breath, or find something to bite down on. Because this might hurt a little more.”

You took a gauze pad out of the package and dipped it into the water cup, then started to carefully clean his wounds. There was a mixture of dirt, dust, blood, and general Upside Down muck all over—you looked the same way, and somehow you made it look good—but you slowly worked through it all. Every so often he would wince when you got too close to one of the bites, but you always apologized.

“I think you are the luckiest person alive,” you murmured after a while, tossing another dirty gauze pad into the growing pile on the table. The pack in the first aid kit was new, and you’d gone through two thirds of it just from cleaning up Steve. “These don’t look like they’re infected, somehow. Guess my shoddy work out there helped some.”

“And I am eternally grateful,” he said. “Dying in the Upside Down from some rabid demon bats was not really on my bucket list.”

You laughed. “That’s good. It’s not on mine either.”

“Now that I’m all cleaned up,” Steve said, “what’s the verdict, doc?”

“You’re gonna be okay,” you said. “At least, I think. We should really be getting you to a hospital—”

“Not an option,” he interrupted, shaking his head, “unless you wanna answer a lot of questions.”

You sighed at his assertion but continued anyway. “Like I said, they’re not infected, which is a miracle. And as far as I can tell, there’s no sign of poison. You’re not too hot—”

“Rude.”

“—or too cold,” you said with more emphasis, slightly annoyed at his second interruption, “your breathing is fine, and you seem pretty lucid. Just to be sure, though—” you held up four fingers. “How many fingers?”

“Four,” he answered.

“Who’s the current president?”

“Reagan.”

“What school did you go to?”

“Hawkins High School.”

“Whose house is this?”

“The hottest girl in town.”

“Steve.”

“What?” he asked innocently. “I’m just tellin’ the truth.”

You rolled your eyes, but he could still see your slight smile even as you glanced away. “Okay, then. I think that means you’re good. You just need to rest—take it easy.”

“What?” Steve frowned. “Vecna is still running and we have no idea how to take him down. All of Hawkins is in danger, Max is in danger—we can’t just stop for a little nap in between it all.”

“And we won’t,” you agreed. “You’ve done a lot, Steve, and we all appreciate it. But if you go out again, you could get yourself killed. And you won’t be able to help anyone six feet under.”

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’ve done all this before—I’ve dealt with all this interdimensional shit before. If anything, you’re the one that should be sitting out! The medic doesn’t go out into the field, and you won’t be any help six feet under either. I’m not losing you, doc.”

“I’m not the one with all these injuries!” you exclaimed. “You can’t go out and do what we just did again—you have serious wounds, wounds that need to be professionally examined, by the way, and you were nearly strangled to death by those bats. That could have affected your windpipe, or arteries in your neck—god, you could have brain damage, Steve!”

He chuckled. “That’s not the first time someone’s said that to me.”

“Steve,” you said sternly, “this is serious. If we didn’t get there in time, you would’ve died. And—” you swallowed thickly, biting down on your lip as your eyes glimmered— “and I don’t know what I would’ve done if you did. You scared us, Steve—you scared me.”

Wait a second.

Was that genuine emotion in your voice? Genuine emotion, and—and near tears, when you were talking about him?

People didn’t cry over Steve Harrington. They laughed at him, joked around with him, insulted him, put him in his place. He was a fun guy to be around, to hang out with, to go home at the end of the night, but he wasn’t a guy you kept around. He wasn’t a guy you cared about.

And yet here you were, taking valuable time out of your day to help him with his injuries, possibly about to cry over Steve Harrington.

Maybe his feelings weren’t as unrequited as he imagined.

“Well…” his voice was softer than he expected when it came out, “you scared me, doc. Back there, right when you were about to climb out, when Vecna got you?” Steve shook his head. “That was terrifying. There were no warning signs, you just froze, and your eyes rolled back—god, I thought you were gonna start floating next. I thought you were dead, and I thought I was gonna have to watch it happen.”

“But I’m okay.” You took the gauze pad away from his injuries as you looked at him, right at him, and all he could think about was how beautiful your eyes were, how beautiful you were, and how thankful he was that you were still alive. “And you’re okay too, thank god, but it won’t last if you keep throwing yourself right into danger. You could’ve very easily not been okay.”

“You could’ve very easily not been okay!” he said, his voice rising without him even noticing. “You’re lucky Vecna only wanted to scare you instead of snap you in half!”

Your eyes widened, maybe just from his choice of words or the way his tone changed, but Steve immediately regretted it either way.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I— I’m sorry. I’m not mad, just… scared. I’m glad nothing happened to you.”

“I guess we both got lucky,” you said quietly.

Steve nodded. “…Guess so.”

You cleared your throat yet again. “Can you sit up and turn around without any discomfort? I need to clean up your back too.”

He carefully got up and turned, crossing his legs so he could sit, and thankfully, it didn’t hurt as much just sitting there in the open air. Maybe it was the aspirin, maybe it was the fact that his injuries were actually being treated. He liked to believe it was because you were treating them.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s fine.”

The silence hung between you for a while as you worked on Steve’s injuries, and after you finished cleaning them you started applying Neosporin. His wounds might not have been infected now, but you wanted to keep it that way. The silence was only interrupted every so often when he would wince aloud and you would apologize, or when you warned him that something was going to hurt. Despite the small outburst, there was only the slightest bit of tension. Steve was the one who broke it, though.

“I can’t sit out while the rest of you do all the work,” he said. “I know it’s stupid, and it goes against your doctor instincts, but I have to see this through. After all Vecna, or— or 001, or Peter, whoever the hell he told you he is— after all he’s done, I can’t just let you guys take him down without me. I have to be there.”

“Steve…”

“I know. But I have to.” He couldn’t look back at you, but the meaning was still there. “You’re part of this team now, which means you’re gonna be out there. And if you’re out there, I’m gonna be by your side. It’s non-negotiable.”

“Stand up,” you said, veering off topic. He wondered, for a fearful second, if he had gone too full on too quickly. “And lift your arms up. I need to redress your wounds—these bandages are filthy.”

Steve nodded, and after testing the waters to make sure his legs wouldn’t give out immediately, stood up. You pushed the coffee table back with your leg to make more room, and then you picked up the roll of bandages. As you started to wrap them around his chest and back, moving your head every so often to see his back and make sure you were on track.

“I won’t be alone,” you said then, and your smile made him feel a lot better. At least he didn’t scare you off. “I’ve got Nancy Wheeler with me. That girl is a total badass.”

“She is.” You weren’t looking at Steve as you worked, but he didn’t take his eyes away from you. “But, y’know, Eddie told me that you jumped in right after me. Like, didn’t even hesitate. And you were pretty good with that paddle when you basically saved my life. I’d say you’re pretty badass too.”

“No,” you denied, and you shook your head, “no, I’m not. Anyone would do what I did. It’s just instinct.”

Steve laughed in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Anyone would not do what you did—literally jumping headfirst into a danger you’ve never encountered before is badass, and you can’t deny that. I mean, you basically saved my life twice—stopped those bats from finishing the job and then made sure I didn’t bleed out. You’re like my guardian angel at this point, doc.”

A smile quirked on your lips. “That’s a title I’d like to get rid of. It would be nice if I didn’t have to save you from near death again.”

“I dunno,” Steve said. “I’d say it’s pretty worth it if I get to hang out with you.”

He heard you take in a quick breath as your hands froze. Just as quickly, you got back to work. “You, um, you don’t have to nearly die to spend time with me. There’s— there’s easier ways. A lot of easier ways.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And what are some of them?”

“You could, um—” your eyes darted away for a second before you looked at him, “you could just ask.”

“Well then,” Steve said, “do you wanna go out with me?”

“Yeah!” you blurted out immediately, and then your eyes widened. “I mean— yes, of course I do, but— but not right now. After all of this. After all of this is over.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully. “So after we kill Vecna, we can celebrate by going out for shakes.”

You grinned, and Steve thought it was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. As much fun as it was teasing and flustering you, seeing you work in your element and seeing you confident—that was a lot better. “Sure.”

“Alright,” he said, nodding again with a smile of his own, “alright. Kill Vecna, get out of it alive—”

“Extra emphasis on that part,” you interrupted as you finally finished wrapping his injuries. You tore it off from the roll and secured the bandages, then placed the nearly empty roll back on the table. Then you looked right at him. “And then after you get out without nearly dying, you take me on the best date of my life as payment for all the magic I’ve worked for you.”

Steve chuckled. “You’ve got yourself a deal, doc.”

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader fic #steve x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #st x reader #steve harrington imagine

478 notes · View notes

toweringclam · 6 months

Text

I've alluded to it before but my personal theory of what Millia sacrificed for Angra: Her self-image.

Whether or not it's truly a Forbidden Beast (I think it is, but w/e), it stands to reason that Angra might follow similar rules to Eddie. Granted, it's hard to extrapolate with only one data point, but there's such a strong association between shadow and eyesight that it'd be weird if there wasn't some connection there. He sacrificed a sense to control a being that obscures that sense.

Hair is very often associated with beauty, especially for women. It's one reason why ascetics shave their heads. In Buddhism, hair is associated with vanity. It's a barrier to true consciousness. Therefore, having hair that she could control could be considered the ultimate vanity. It obscures her internal sense of self.

We see this in the Night of Knives drama CD where she constantly denigrates herself, especially at the beginning. She compares herself to a doll, a body pillow, a slave. She can only define herself through the way other people see her, and Zato-1 sees her as a possession. Through the story, she gains the strength to defy him, but even post-timeskip, she still struggles. Her song "Love the Subhuman Self" is about how she still can't see herself as beautiful. It's even possible that the only thing she can see in the mirror is Angra.

I think it's worth noting that, while Zato's pact was made willingly, hers was not. The exact circumstances are unclear, but it's pretty clear she didn't know what the results would be, and that Zato-1 wanted her to do it. I think it was meant to be another means of control and abuse, which makes their current relationship ironic. The person who once robbed her of her humanity is now her most unwavering supporter, as he now defines himself through her.

#guilty gear strive #guilty gear #guilty gear lore #millia rage #millia guilty gear #zato 1 #guilty gear zato

30 notes · View notes

this-is-krikkit · 9 months

Note

Headcanon Asks??? Yes please & thank you because I love your HC so much!

☾ - Sleep headcanon for Hange

✿ - Sex headcanon for Levi

Love you lots Sunshine ☀️🫶

hey Vabe, thank you for sending this in. love you too ♥️

happy birthday again!! hope you've had a great one, lots of fun and an amazing time with your family 😁🤗

i turned these into lil drabbles for funsies hehe (it's levihan. i'm trash. enjoy!)

headcanon asks

☾ - Sleep headcanon for Hange

Hange's a quiet and deep sleeper... once they fall asleep. they're not an insomniac per say; they feel the need to rest in the weight of their eyelids as the night progresses and it gets harder and harder to blink the tiredness away in their lab. they actively fight against the urge to let their head lie over their crossed arms on their desk for even just one minute, by pinching their own skin and hitting their own head and mumbling songs to themself. that's the trick, Levi soon figures out, you gotta get Hange to stop fucking moving, gotta get their legs to stop kicking at the covers, their mouth to stop rambling about unfinished projects and experiment ideas, their thoughts to stop spinning in their full and Titan-obsessed head. it rarely happens, especially with witnesses around -because anyone being in the room is stimulation enough to keep even their most tired brain cells up and running. in fact, the first time Levi sees it in person, is when he fell asleep himself as they were talking the night away after an expedition. recurring nightmares with cruel awfully realistic twists make sure he jolts awake a couple of hours later, and there on the pillow is a sight to behold: Hange Zoë, with their eyes closed and their breathing slowed down, their normally animated face expressionless and their hands still and not moving around to support yet another insane theory they're explaining to whoever -Levi, always Levi- will listen. he smiles at the odd quietness to that scene, the unexpected calm in the storm that Hange always is in his life and the unexpected peacefulness in this instant compared to the week they've just had, planning for and going on this mission outside the Walls. but then their silence and unmoving features remind him of the most frightening details of the dream he's just woken up from, and before he can stop himself, he's shaking their shoulder until they open groggy eyes to stare up at him in question. "oi, you're taking all the damn space here. either move or i'll move you," he says. and before they can even process his words, he picks their upper body up and lies right under it, assuring his large shoulders don't threaten to fall off his small military-issued mattress anymore. he tries to ignore how their surprised but delighted giggle, and how they immediately settle more comfortably against him -like cuddling with him is the most natural thing in the world to them- sets something alight in his chest and soothes his troubled mind back into a rest-sensible state. (all that before Hange yawns themself fully awake and start whispering ridiculous, nonsensical questions, and Levi deeply regrets waking them up.)

✿ - Sex headcanon for Levi

okay, so obviously, Levi's a virgin before he gets with Hange, and there are three main reasons for it.

first, sex is gross because it involves sharing sweat and other bodily fluids with another human when he can barely handle having to train in hand to hand combat with other Scouts and has to run to the showers after. second, sex is terrifying, because it involves being vulnerable and open and honest with someone for, from what he understands, at least a couple minutes straight, and that is not something he thinks he'll ever feel comfortable with. third and final, sex is nerve-wracking, because it's the one physical activity he's not sure he'd be Humanity's Best at, and that specific thought is so ridiculous and cringey he wishes he'd never had it (but it's too late once it enters his brain).

but you know what he soon -soon as in, a decade into this crush neither of them dares to act on before that much time, and months after they get together as they take their sweet time to cross that ultimate barrier, i mean- realizes? Levi doesn't mind Hange's sweat so much -Walls know he's gotten used to its smell and feel against his skin when they're so annoyingly touchy all the time- and he's seen them bleed out enough times over the years to think himself impervious to anything else their body could throw his way. it also turns out it's not such a scary prospect, to be his most naked self in front of them, not when they wear their heart on their sleeve every single time they interact and seem to feel no shame about it, not when they seem to drink in every word he speaks -no matter how awkward and crude- and every inch of skin he reveals -no matter how scarred by combat and years of a famished childhood. he can't deny the apprehension he feels all throughout the first touches and tastes though, the fear of being inadequate and not good enough at something everyone else seems to find easy and instinctive. but Hange's breathy reactions and strangled moans and the flow of juices that comes out of them, the hunger in their eyes as they explore his body and the unreal feeling of their own hands and tongue and cunt make him come to terms with the fact that he doesn't always have to be Humanity's anything -not in these moments where he can be Hange's everything instead.

32 notes · View notes

chaenprettyyy · 1 year

Text

Itzy reacting to their s/o having a bad bad game

Genre: Fluff headcanons

A/N: Its my first post!! I’m a new author so I’m looking for some fellow fluffy friends! ^ ~ ^

This one’s for all my fellow gamers. We’ve all had that one(or multiple) game/s that lingered a lil too much.

Hwang Yeji

- You were playing solo when you got into a heated argument with someone in your team.

- You were usually above interacting with the trolls of this game but today you just weren’t having it.

- You were caught off guard by the enemy team because you were too distracted with your argument.

- That did it for you. It made you skip the fuse and outright explode.

- Yeji flinched from your raised your voice

- But you didn’t notice that

- What you did notice was the expression she had on when you randomly glanced to her direction

- You couldn’t quite read her face. But you knew it wasn’t a positive reaction.

- Right then and there you knew you had to put a stop to it, so you remained silent for the rest of the game.

- Still bothered with what you saw from Yeji, you didn’t even care about the result of the game, you just instantly logged off after the game and took a walk to de-tilt yourself.

- Arriving back home, you see Yeji on the kitchen island

- She had her arms propped up, head supported by both hands, like she was waiting for something

- When she finally saw you she gave you a gentle smile

- She was waiting for you

- "Why'd you go for a walk?" she asks

- "I've never seen that look on your face before... I knew I had to do something about it" you replied, scratching your nape, embarrassed that you were the reason for said face

- Your eyes land on 2 cups placed atop the kitchen island

- One was her’s, the other was a drink looked familiar to you.

- She got you your favourite drink

- "Whats with the drink?" You asked back, taking the beverage in your hand.

- "Same reason as yours i guess." She replied

- After exchanging some words, Yeji confirms your state.

- “So you’re all good now??”

- You reassure her that you are.

- She rushes to your shared bedroom.

- You follow her in suit and see her taking down a pillow fort. She explained that she had hoped the pillow fort would do the trick if your comfort drink didn’t.

- Dear God Yeji’s so extra

- Laughter filled the room

- You lovingly tackled her

- You two lay on the not-so-disposed-of pillow fort giggling & cuddling.

- You and Yeji were still fresh from moving in together, and this moment right here was a sign of the good times to come.

Choi “Lia” Jisu

- You didn't know you were playing the new game mode the developers must have recently added.

- Its called "Who can blame who more"

- Where your team would fight the enemy AND verbally assault your own at the same time.

- You were playing just fine, but your teamates were too distracted with all the trashtalking.

- You tried your best to put up a good fight but it was an inevitable loss.

- You were demoralized, and you told Lia all about it.

- She listened with all her heart.

- The sight of her nodding along to your sentences made you smile.

- It cut you off mid-sentence.

- You scoffed.

- It confused her

- “What?” she asked

- “You know what... I don’t care anymore. I don’t want be brought down by something so silly.”

- “Y/N, if it were silly then you wouldn’t be this affected now would you?”

- “No seriously, I’d rather enjoy the rest of the day with you.”

- She gives you her signature cinnamon smile.

- Yep that did the trick. You’ve now fully meant every single word that you said just now.

- “I’m happy that you think so.”

- She holds both your hands. They were cold, possibly still influenced by adrenaline from the game.

- Lia rubs her hands in between yours to warm it up.

- Your heart fluttered from that.

- It may have worked a little too well, as now your whole body was heated up.

- You find her truly amazing. Her entire being is comfort incarnate.

- Is it really though?

- You test out that theory.

- You hold her body in place so she could still herself.

- Dig your ear onto her chest, you did.

- And listen to her full heart.

- It felt like each beat you heard dwindled the memory of that game inch by inch.

- You couldn't see it but she was looking at you from above with the dope-iest smile. She still couldn't believe how much you loved her.

Shin Ryujin

- Ryujin would be the type to watch you during your game.

- She knew the game well cause she convinced you to teach her all about it. Hoping it would be a bonding experience.

- So she saw how slowly but surely your hopes diminished.

- The enemy bested you in the most subtle of ways.

- It was a slow burn type of game.

- It could have been 50-50 if it weren't for your lapses of judgement.

- After a long bout, the word Defeat splattered across your screen.

- You're not a bad player or anything, its just that that specific game showed how big your room for improvement is. It showed you which areas for you to work on.

- You: *long drawn sign*

- Ryujin would point out all your good plays in the game, but not discounting that you really do have to improve in some aspects.

- "Shake it off, babe. I know you did your best."

- You really did consider her words, you always did.

- But her usual blunt approach wasn't cutting it right now.

- You head to your shared bedroom and lay face down. Corpse-style.

- ‘Its so stupid’ You thought

- ‘It was just one game’

- ‘... I guess have tons more to learn to be considered a decent player’

- You tried logic-ing your way out. Thinking of all the things that game could have taught you in hopes not thinking about the loss.

- Deep in thought, you were interrupted with the bed shifting.

- Ryujin was on the other side, seated with crossed legs.

- You didn’t even bother looking to her direction

- You grunted

- She starts patting you like a baby

- You pay no mind to it until you notice yourself calming you down

- Your grunts turned to mewls

- What is this magic?

- Well, whatever it was, it was certainly working to pull you out of the hole you were starting to dig yourself deeper and deeper in.

- You try to thank her but she shushes you

- "No words needed." she said

- You start to fall asleep.

- But not before you nestle your head on her waist. Hugging it tight.

- Like it was the first and last time you would ever get that treatment from her.

- Ryujin made sure it wasn't.

Lee Chaeryeong

- You had a bad game

- And then another

- 1 turned to 3

- And 3 turned to 5

- It was a losing streak

- You'd think you’d feel furious about it, but somewhere along your gaming marathon, anger just turned into sadness and self-pity.

- You felt so sorry for yourself.

- Chaeryeong enters your apartment, looking like she was defeated as well.

- It seems that she too was having a bad day.

- "How was your day, babe?"

- "Horrible... Yours?"

- "I don't even know where to begin"

- You two share your grief, sparing no detail of your horrid day.

- It was your turn first

- And boy was Chaeryeong a great listener.

- The lady right in front of you was an empath.

- She made you feel like she suffered through the same misplays, same mismatches, same losses you just experienced.

- Crunching her face and reacting to every single detail that made each game uniquely depressing.

- She had enough anger for the both of you. And so you made sure to reciprocate that.

- Casually asking her whats got her down and listening intently.

- It was so easy for the two of you to rant to each other.

- Like spreading butter using a warm knife.

- It was strange how something rooted from sadness could be turned into something heartwarming.

- No "its ok"s

- No "tomorrow's another day"s

- You didn't try to cheer each other up. You didn't try to solve the other's problem. You were just there to lend an ear.

- Your show-and-tell: grievance edition started in the kitchen

- Which then led to the couch.

- Which then led to the bedroom.

- Your listening to each other felt so natural that you didn’t notice yours transitions to different places

- The next thing the two of you knew, you were now in bed, cuddling for comfort.

- Tough as it was, at least tonight it was you and Chaeryeong vs the world.

- And you held onto her for dear life as you join her in buying a ticket to dreamland.

Shin Yuna

- A sharp groan

- You hang on the edge of your seat, both hands on your head, eyes shot forward, still not believing how stupid your were.

- Your girlfriend Yuna approached you

- You wondered what was more annoying.

- That you had just fumbled the last play in the most royal way?

- Or the girl trying to pry herself in between you and your chair.

- "Uhmm Babe?...." you asked, still not used to the younger's antics.

- "Hmm?"

- She was acting like what she was doing was normal.

- "What'chu doing there?"

- "For one thing, being warm." she squeezed you

- Her boldness hit you like a truck.

- It made you breath out all the adrenaline from the game.

- She noticed it was calming you down, so she hugged you harder, now digging her face onto your body.

- "I'm not that upset about it." you lied

- But she hums away your attempt to talk about it further.

- A good minute of silence completely purged away all your negativity.

- "So theres this big party at JYPE later. I already told them you're my plus one"

- You were stunned for a second

- "AND YOU'RE ONLY TELLING ME ABOUT THIS NOW?"

- Your panic threw you off your chair and you head straight to your closet.

- Your worry subsides when you see a suit holder hanging on the handle.

- No way in hell that you bought this suit from this brand

- ‘Of course she already got me a suit’

- Gone were the days where you had to cut off an arm and a leg for when an event would blindside you.

- You two continue talking about the event, and how you would tag along with itzy to have dinner before going to the venue together.

- It was hours later when you remember how badly you screwed up the game.

- Now you’re in a limo on the way to the party. Having the time of your life.

- You knew Yuna didn’t purposely try to distract you from your bad game.

- Yuna’s life was active. It was ever-moving.

- It was in her nature to move past these types of things every now and then.

- One minute you were there and the next you're here

- Such was the philosophy that rubbed off on your when you started dating Yuna.

- Timings? Jinxes? Luck? Screw all of those.

- Life has too many surprises. Some were bad, some were good. And dwelling on the former would make you miss out on the latter.

34 notes · View notes

bookgirlfan · 2 years

Text

A Villain Needs A Hero (and a child needs a parent)

Also on AO3

This was never what he had wanted! His akumas transformed, controlled, even froze people, but never were they supposed to pick up their own weapon and starting trying to bludgeon Ladybug and Chat Noir. Yes, he wanted Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses, but not like this.

“Akuma, I release you.” He pulled the akuma from its victim. Even if his wish would make it so all this never happened, how could I face his Emilie knowing he had been the cause of the murder of two children?

***

His latest akuma had lead to Chat Noir destroying a hospital when the akuma had thrown into him into it with his Cataclysm still active. Nadja Chamack had caught it on tape, her cameraman focusing in on the bodies caught beneath the rubble. Ladybug’s cure had restored everything, of course, but the citizens of Paris were baying for blood.

Even Hawkmoth could see that it had been the akuma that had caused the damage, but he knew the fickle press too well to believe they’d see the truth. To blame the akuma victim would risk being blamed themselves when it happened to them. Much easier to place the blame on the shoulders of a teenage hero with the power of destruction in his hands.

If he wanted to stop Chat Noir from going into hiding, perhaps leaving Paris, with his miraculous, he would have to create an even better story.

A knock on his door. “Father?”

“Adrien. I don’t have time right now.” Any delay could be too much. He needed Chat Noir to want to stay in Paris. “Nathalie will let you know when I’m free.”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, Father.”

Gabriel barely noticed, already planning what akuma would be best to make Chat Noir be loved again.

***

Ladybug shivered, barely able to stand.

Hawkmoth laughed maniacally from his lair. “Yes! Yes!”

Chat Noir swooped in on his baton, grabbing her and vaulting away to safety. When he returned, Ladybug was not with him.

For the next akuma, there was no Ladybug, and no Chat Noir. Only Mister Bug.

The one after was the same. And the one after. Mister Bug was looking more and more tired.

Gabriel watched the Ladybug avidly, but there were only theories on what had happened to Ladybug. Mlle Cesaire suggested she had a serious illness.

Without Ladybug and Chat Noir, he could not take their miraculouses. “Nathalie. Contact all the hospitals in Paris. I am starting a new fund to support ill teenagers. Ladybug will find a hospital and recover, and then I’ll take her miraculous!”

The next week, Ladybug and Chat Noir were back, though Chat Noir was now the one looking shaky and unwell.

Nathalie sent him an email saying Adrien was off school for a week with the flu. Gabriel ignored it.

***

“Sir, I noticed today’s akuma had the power of…blankets.”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir have been tired recently. If they are too tired to continue, I won’t find them, and I’ll never be able to gain their miraculous!”

“Did you consider not sending any akumas, so they have a chance to rest?”

“Of course.” It hadn’t been his first thought, but it had occurred to him. “But if I didn’t send any akumas, they’d become suspicious, and wouldn’t rest well.”

“And a blanket akuma would help them rest.” Nathalie’s tone gave away nothing.

“Blankets are comforting, Nathalie.” But even wrapping Chat Noir up in a purrito had not been enough to make the heroes sleep. Next time, he’d need something more powerful - perhaps some warm milk? But even then, they would fight it, and it would be useless. He would have to think creatively… “Nathalie, set some blankets and pillows up at the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug and Chat Noir often rest there. Finally, I’ll make them get some sleep!”

***

“Chat Noir is too skinny, Nathalie. How can I take his and Ladybug’s miraculous if they’re too weak to even transform?”

“Of course, sir,” Nathalie said blandly. “I’ll set up a snack basket behind the house.”

“And one at Adrien’s school as well. They often fight there.”

“You know, sir, if you didn’t send so many akumas to the school, they wouldn’t be fighting there so often. And Adrien would be safer”

Gabriel didn’t even bother to look at her. Of course he knew that. “Adrien would be safer at home.”

***

“I think Hawkmoth takes better care of us than my dad does.”

Hawkmoth’s eyes narrowed. The comment was low, but there was no doubt what it was. Chat Noir was being neglected. If he grew depressed and stopped being a hero, Hawkmoth would never be able to take his miraculous. Clearly, he would have to fix this.

He detransformed and returned back down to his office. “Nathalie. Prepare adoption papers and tell Adrien he’s to have a new brother. I’m going to adopt Chat Noir.”

#my writing #stories #miraculous ladybug #crack

7 notes · View notes

rydykg · 2 years

Text

Prompt: #12 - “You’re making my head hurt.”

Fandom: Original Work - part of Isekai ??? Shots

Warnings: none

Notes: will be expanded on at a later date! i just think it’s interesting to see outsider’s reactions to isekai’d ppl that aren’t like. yknow. in the story itself. this is based off of your usual rofan korean isekai manhwas, where the mc is transmigrated into the body of a villainess.

“So, wait, let me get this straight,” Luka pinched the bridge of his nose, and tried to make sense of- of the conspiracy theory that Caden was spewing. “You think that Miss Adriana Rosemburgh… isn’t Adriana Rosemburgh?”

“No, I’m saying that someone else is in her body.” Caden huffed, leaning against the soft pillows on his lavish couch. “It’s just- you’ve heard the gossip recently, haven’t you?”

“Well, yes.” It was hard not to. Ever since her awakening from her coma, the only daughter of Duke Rosemburgh seemed to have done a full 180 on her personality. In only a few months, she had started her own business that was quickly beginning to flourish; her reputation had changed from that of a cold and cruel villainess to that of a confident, inspiring entrepreneur; and perhaps most importantly, it seemed that some of the kingdom’s most powerful men were intrigued by her.

Which was weird, Luka could acknowledge that. But something like body possession was just going too far.

“Exactly,” Caden snapped his fingers. “You don’t just change so much within only, what, one week of being in a coma? Hitting your head too hard on something doesn’t just make you give up on all the plans you’ve been boiling over, claim that you only want a ‘simple’ life, and then go do— everything that she’s been doing!”

Before Luka could get a word in otherwise, he began expanding on his theory. “See, I’ve looked through some of the books in the imperial library — don’t give me that look, I got permission — and there are some stuff on spiritual possession and transferring the soul to another world. Yes, they might be only theoretical, but who’s to say—”

As a future judge and scholar under the crown, Caden’s tendency to analyse and explain everything was useful in many situations, and Luka was forever grateful that Caden could make the hardest things seem so simple to understand for him. But at these sorts of times, it was… a little overwhelming.

“You’re making my head hurt,” Luka quietly interjected.

“Oh sorry. Do you want me to backtrack?”

“Just give me a conclusion for now.”

“Okay, okay.” Caden nodded. “In conclusion, I believe that the body of Miss Adriana Rosemburgh has been possessed by somebody else, and the real one has either been sent to the body of said ‘somebody else’, or it has died.”

Luka shut his eyes and sighed. That was the most bizarre conspiracy theory that he’d ever heard, and he lived with a sister who loved to make up the most out-of-the-world theories on gossip.

Still, this was his best friend. He should be supportive.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” he said, opening his eyes again to stare deeply into Caden’s eyes. “You sure you aren’t saying all of this just because you miss Cedric?”

In response, Caden threw a pillow at him.

#fictober22 #wipseries: isekai ??? shots #luka perosca.is #caden belstein.is #writing #original fiction #original work #isekai

5 notes · View notes

starstruckkittensweets · 1 year

Text

Chapter LX (“AWWW”)

A/N: So...I’m back, for now! Hello again everybody, I am so sorry for dropping this story out of the blue last year. A combination of work, writer’s block, and some family/personal issues made it kinda tough to sit down and focus on this story. I apologize if this chapter is a little choppy, I used it as an inspiration to crawl back out of my writer’s block, and writing it was a little therapeutic for me. It’s a slow chapter and a bit on the shorter side, but I think it’s a bit of a breather before we get into the last stretch of this story. Speaking of, I probably won’t update again until I have a majority of the remaining chapters written. It shouldn’t be too hard, I already have them planned and outlined, and now all I have to do is write them out.

As always, thank you so very much for sticking with me throughout this long and drawn-out process. I really appreciate each and every one of you, it’s because of your constant support that I’ve gotten this far in this story to begin with. So thank you and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Fandom: Attack on Titan Pairing: Levi x Mia (OC) Words: 5.8k

Warnings: suggestive dialogue, mentions of pregnancy and raising children, mostly fluff all around but Mia is hopeful for having children one day

Taglist: @omg-lexiloveyou, @tootiredforyourshit3963, @super-peace-fangirl, @mr-robot-x, @unusversuscanicula, @cyborgnate, @saltypancakes

|LX|

The summer sun was warm against my skin. A soft glow shining through the curtains, bleeding through the sheets around us. I stretched my arm along Levi’s bare chest, eliciting the smallest of hums from his throat. I couldn’t help but smile as he tightened his arms around me, as I buried my face against the crook of his neck.

Morning already? It feels as though I barely got enough sleep…

Still, it was early enough for us to laze around a bit. Neither of us had anywhere to be until later this afternoon, anyway. Maybe we could afford to sleep in, just this once.

Every part of my body felt sore; the muscles in my thighs were still burning from exhaustion, my throat was a little scratchy from screaming his name last night. By the way you were screaming Wolf, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole castle heard you. My face grew warm at the thought, and that’s when Levi shifted himself to smirk at me.

“What is it?” His voice was still raspy from sleep, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“Nothing. Just admiring my handsome captain, like I do every morning.”

He didn’t roll his eyes or scoff like I expected him to, just like he’d done every other time I’d called him the h-word. Instead he slid his fingers across my forehead, brushing a few strands of hair from my face, before thumbing the little white scar across my cheek. I hummed as he cradled my face in his hands, lips fluttering over the top of my head.

Of course, his one rule in bed: No kissing before brushing our teeth.

But the bed was so warm, and his arms were so comfortable, that the mere thought of getting out and leaving him was enough to make me grimace. So I snuggled in as close as I could, pressing my face to the planes of his chest and kissing the skin below.

“Someone’s clingy today.”

“You’re one to talk,” I retorted, but my voice was muffled by his chest. “You can’t stand it when I get out of bed before you.”

“Oh, is that why you won’t let me leave?”

As if to test his little theory, he began to inch closer to the edge of the bed, sliding his leg from out of the covers and towards the floor. But I was quick to snatch him back, hooking my leg around his own and keeping him pinned to the bed below.

“Tch, come on, you little shit.” But there was no malice in his tone as he carded his fingers through my messy hair. “I have to piss. And clean up. You should do the same, too.”

“But you’re so warm…”

He groaned again, flopping back down against the pillows. I crawled up the length of his body and held myself over his chest, with my elbow propped up against the side of his head.

“Just a few more minutes, captain.” His jaw tightened as I slid my finger across his collarbone, down his chest and over his abdomen. “You’re too warm and comfortable to let go of just yet.”

“…A few more minutes. But that’s it.”

Of course. I pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling into my usual place, with my head tucked beneath his chin and my palm pressed against his heart.

Already I could start to feel myself dozing off again. It was all so surreal to me—the gentle hum of his breaths, the warmth of his sun-kissed skin against mine, and the soft tug of his fingers in my hair, lazily twisting the strands at my nape. Suddenly I didn’t feel like a soldier of the Survey Corps; soldiers never felt peaceful like this for too long.

Every morning could be like this, after this war is over.

That little voice in the back of my head was already hard at work, whispering forbidden dreams and promises in my ear. I could only press my face against his chest, as the thoughts began to run rampant within my mind.

Imagine waking up next to him like this for the rest of your life, but in a different house. Maybe one somewhere deep in the forests beyond the Walls, away from the rest of the world. Maybe we’ll live in a cottage by a lake or a river, one we’ve built together with our own hands. Maybe we’ll have a barn as well, to keep a few horses close by. And maybe when I wake up one of these mornings, I’ll find Levi’s fingers splayed across my stomach, protecting the child growing inside of me. Our child.

The thought of children made my throat close up. Fuck. I forgot I’d mentioned them to him last night…

Neither of us were ready for that conversation, maybe not for a good few years. We were still soldiers, sworn to protect the remnants of humanity from the Titans, even at the cost of our lives. We couldn’t set aside our duties for a couple of children for ten years at least, or maybe even more. And I refused to give them off to a wet nurse or another couple to raise in our stead. If Levi and I were ever going to have children of our own, we would raise them ourselves, not let another person take over. I couldn’t even bear the thought of handing my child, either a boy like Levi or a girl like myself, over to a stranger I didn’t even know.

It was best to just wait until the Titans were eradicated altogether. Then we could settle in that silly little cottage in the forest. Then we could discuss the topic of children freely. But for now, it was a possibility neither of us dared to speak out loud.

“What is it?”

I brushed my fingers along his collarbone once more. “What’s what?”

“You know what I mean.” Levi groaned as he shifted himself against the pillows; I nearly laughed when I realized the spare pillow was still propped up against what remained of the poor headboard. “What’s bothering you? And don’t say it’s nothing…because I’ll know you’re lying.”

He held me firm against his body, with my chin propped up on his chest and his palms against my shoulders. I sighed, wondering if it was worth it to come clean to him now and bring up my thoughts about our future children—if we even end up having any to begin with.

But I couldn’t get the words out. They were lodged in the back of my throat, keeping me from breathing, from telling him just how I really felt about all of this. They were right there on the tip of my tongue, and yet I couldn’t say them out loud no matter how hard I tried.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to retire from the Scouts when this war is over. I want us to get married, to move to a little house far away from everyone else. I want us to have children, as many as we can possibly have. A son, a daughter, whatever you want—it doesn’t matter to me. And maybe we’ll have that tea shop you told me about once, maybe in one of the outer districts close to home. I want us to stay by each other’s sides until the day we take our last breaths, with graying hair and wrinkled skin and our many grandchildren playing at our knees.

But…how could I tell him all of this without scaring him away? If there was one thing I knew about Levi, it was that he liked to take things slowly, to allow himself to adapt and adjust. I couldn’t just dump all of that on him without any warning whatsoever.

Still, I had to say something to him. So I cleared my throat and touched his cheek, tracing down to his jawline as softly as I could.

“…I just wish every day could be like this.”

Soft, quiet, gentle—absolute bliss.

His only answer was a light squeeze against my shoulders—and I had no time to think before he pulled me in close, slotting his lips against my own. Morning breath be damned, I still loved the taste of his mouth.

“I thought you didn’t like kissing first thing in the morning.”

I snickered as he rolled his eyes, before pushing me off his chest and rolling onto his stomach on the bed. His arms curled around the pillows, the sun’s rays spilling across his back. The scratches I’d left last night were still there, pink and tender, stretching along the length of his shoulders. I leaned down to press a few kisses along each one, smirking as I felt him shiver beneath my mouth.

When I was done, I lowered myself across his back and curled a few strands of black hair behind his ear. It was strange, seeing him with messy morning hair, but I loved it all the same.

“Can we sleep in, just for a little bit?” He groaned into the pillow as I pressed my lips to the shell of his ear. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you tonight…”

“With what?” He shifted his head to the side, giving me a half-hearted smirk against the fabric of the pillow. “More scratches on my back with those claws of yours?”

“Well, I could, if you want me to… But I’ll clean them up again, as many times as you want.” Just for good measure, I pressed another line of kisses down the most prominent scratch on his left shoulder—a long red line that burned brighter than all the others.

Neither of us spoke for a while after that, and for a moment I wondered if he was actually going to give into my plea of sleeping in. But then he was pushing himself off the mattress, palms digging into the pillows below. I flopped down on my back at his side, staring up at him as he stretched out his arms and rolled his shoulders back and forth.

“Let me piss first, at least. And I suggest you do the same.”

It was hard not to smile as I watched him disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door open just a little bit. I yawned and curled my arm behind my head, staring up at the ceiling above. With the effects of sleep still lingering, and the warmth of Levi’s touch still against my skin, I closed my eyes and let my mind begin to wander.

Once this war was over, we’d be able to have all the lazy mornings we wanted. Just the two of us, in our little house in the heart of the forest. There was a Forest of Giant Trees just outside Shiganshina’s outer gates, and once we took back Wall Maria maybe we could settle there—that is, unless they didn’t turn it into a tourist attraction like they did with the ones within the Walls.

I thought of the river cutting through the southern half of the Walls, through the center of Shiganshina before leading further into the territory beyond Wall Maria. As far as I knew, none of the Scouts knew where it came to an end. It carried on further and further south, even past the old castle ruins I’d explored on my first expedition beyond the Walls. I remembered staring at it with my mouth agape, watching the water flow south as far as the eye could see, before disappearing into the red horizon. Ever since then, I’d wondered what was at the end of it, and whether or not there were even more rivers in the world beyond our three safe Walls.

Once we win this war, we’ll be able to find out for ourselves. We’ll settle down somewhere, away from everyone else within the Walls; once we start exploring the Walls will surely feel a bit cramped. It’ll just be me and Levi, and our two horses of course, and someday down the line—

Before I knew it, I was pressing my palm to my stomach, splaying my fingers across the scarred skin. And I couldn’t help but frown when all I felt was stillness. Nothing was in there—not yet, at least.

Hold on—what the fuck am I thinking? I groaned into my palms and turned over to lay on my stomach, nails digging into the top of my scalp.

You and Levi aren’t ready for children yet. Hell, you don’t even know if he wants children to begin with! You guys barely talked about it last night, you know. So stop jumping into sad little fantasies of the future.

As much as I hated to say it…the little voice in the back of my mind was right. The thought was nice, something to keep close whenever the future looked bright, but we both knew the truth. Neither of us had time to spare for a child right now. And there was too much at stake right now to start thinking about our retirement from the Scouts, or whether or not we would live together once the Titans were gone. And that alone made my hands begin to tremble.

Sure, we practically lived in each other’s offices at this point, but we were still under the same roof—with roughly a hundred other soldiers living in close proximity with us. Would Levi even be okay with walking away from the base someday to live alone with me? Or did he have other plans to live somewhere else—plans that didn’t include me?

Levi cleared his throat as he finally stepped out of the bathroom, ruffling his messy hair with his fingers. I was quick to slip in after him, catching a whiff of mint from his breath as he leaned in to kiss my forehead. Clean freak already brushed his teeth, huh?

“Make it quick if you want to go back to sleep.” I gasped as he gave my ass a light smack, before making his way towards the messy bed. “I won’t wait forever.”

I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue at him. “Just for that, I’m going to take all the time I want in here!”

“Go ahead, but don’t be surprised when you come back to a cold bed, brat.”

I closed the door with a huff, and even through the running water in the bathroom, I could hear him snickering on the other side.

My mind was still racing as I took care of my business, washing up my face and brushing my teeth with the minty toothpaste he kept on the side of the sink. A million questions flooded my mind about the future: what would happen to us, where we would live, the state of the entire Survey Corps, and everything in between. Of course, there was also the possibility we could never end up living together afterwards, even if we wanted to; for all we knew, one of us could end up dying before then.

I shivered and spat out the toothpaste with a grunt. Stop that. Thinking about it will only get you worked up. Focus on what you have right now in front of you, okay?

And right now, I had a handsome captain waiting for me in bed—all alone, and all mine.

He was still there when I opened the door to the bathroom—of course, I knew he would never leave me—and I wasted no time climbing back into bed and throwing the sheets over our bodies. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, pulling him in as close as possible as his arms found their way around my hips.

“So clingy,” he mumbled against my hair.

“…Just sleepy.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie—I was pretty sleepy, and already I could feel my eyelids drooping as I curled into his chest beneath the covers. I made sure to keep my body almost completely still (no kicking my legs or shifting from side to side), so he wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong with me. We were both too tired to even entertain any ideas of what the future could hold for us. I couldn’t spring this up on him now.

So I kept quiet and snuggled deeper into his chest, the warmth of the sun’s rays and his arms around me lulling me back to sleep.

|~|

When I finally left his room a little over an hour later, the first thing I did was head to the mess hall to check up on my kids. Thankfully they were no longer sleeping on the floor and across the tables, like they had been the night before. Now they were crowded around their usual tables, mumbling to each other over their identical bowls of gruel.

“Never again,” I heard Gretel mutter under her breath, “no more late nights. My head can’t take it…”

I snorted as I gathered my own bowl of gruel from the main counter. If that’s how she’s acting just by staying up late, I’d hate to see what she’s like when she’s hungover. Not that I would ever encourage my cadets to drink (at least, not when they were in my presence, of course).

Which reminded me… I’d have to go check on Mike and Moblit later today. Those two could become insufferable with alcohol in their systems, and while Moblit was usually reserved and had a high tolerance (normally), it was Mike who was the more rambunctious of the two. A bad influence on Moblit, if you ask me.

And sure enough, the two of them were sitting at our usual table, with Nanaba directly across from them. She was rolling her eyes as Mike held his head in his hands, and Moblit leaned too far over the table and smacked his forehead into the book he was currently reading.

“And if you look directly ahead,” she said, smiling as I made my way over to sit next to her, “you’ll see a pair of full-grown men struggling to hold their liquor the morning after. So much for all their big talk, huh?”

“I can handle it just fine, thank you,” Mike groaned into his palms. At least he seems too out of it to tease me about using Levi’s shampoo, like last time. “Those last couple shots killed me, though…”

“Wait…you had even more last night?” My eyes darted back and forth between Mike and Nanaba in between bites of my breakfast. “When was this?”

“After we split up, these two geniuses decided it would be a good idea to break into the whiskey in the cellar and see who could last the longest. And honestly…I’m giving this one to Moblit. Sorry, Mike.”

But neither of them seemed to be interested in the verdict. Moblit was whimpering into the pages of his book, as Mike mumbled a slew of curses under his breath. Poor boys. They would be like this for the rest of the day; I’d seen them both knock back shot after shot together after a particularly successful (and rare) expedition, and they were usually out of it for the next couple days or so. Moblit was always the first to recover, given how much he was already used to drinking during the week. (Working with Hanji every hour of every day could put quite the strain on both your mind and body.) Mike was the one who had to be babied through it all, which gave Nanaba plenty of room for teasing as she took care of him—and despite the occasional complaint, there was no denying both she and Mike loved the extra attention they got from one another.

“On a lighter note,” she continued, turning halfway in her seat to face me, “any plans for later today? Since this one’s going to be out of commission for a while, I’m looking for a new sparring partner.” Mike rolled his eyes at her, only to wince and grip his head once more. “I would ask Lynne or Gelgar, but they’re focusing on their ODM training today. So, you up for it?”

I glanced over at Reggie and Evan, yawning into their hands; at Emily and Murphy, who were dozing off on either side of Eld; and finally at Gretel, and despite putting on a brave face, she was quickly nodding off in her seat above her breakfast.

Looks like Mike isn’t the only one out of commission today. “Sounds like a plan! When do you want to meet up?”

|~|

Once I was finished with a small load of laundry and some extra paperwork lying on my desk, I headed out to meet Nanaba behind the girls’ barracks. By now the sun was at its peak in the sky, beating down hard on the two of us. She met me with a smile, her boots scuffing in the dirt as she rolled her sleeves up to her elbows.

Training with Nanaba was always a mixed bag; I never knew what she would focus on this time around. Sometimes she was stronger, sometimes she was faster. She never did the same thing twice, like myself or Mike did. While I focused on speed and evading attacks, and Mike insisted on pure, unbridled strength in his blows and kicks, Nanaba was always changing it up. It was impressive, how flexible she could be in the field—a good way to keep her opponents guessing, too.

But she was careful about the way she carried herself through our warmups, as well. Never hinting at saving her arm strength for her punches, or slowing down during our laps around the base to conserve her energy. She was someone who put her all into her workouts, and that’s what made her such an exciting partner to train with.

With three laps around the base under our belt, the two of us chose a shady spot at the edge of the meadow to train. The horses were grazing beyond the fences, tails swishing in the breeze, huge noses bumping into each other’s. I could see Ivy and Misty frolicking in the distance, kicking out their legs as though they were foals once more.

I was so enamored with the sight I almost didn’t see Nanaba’s fist aiming for my cheek. I let out a breath as I dodged her attacks, batting her wrists away and slinking to the side when she went for my head.

She’s fighting dirty today. Well, if that’s how she wants to play, then so be it!

Fists pressing into palms, a swift sweep of the leg—in no time the two of us were panting hard, foreheads slick with sweat beneath the cool shade of the trees nearby. She caught my wrist in her hand with a smirk, before tugging me close and bringing her knee up to my stomach. I grit my teeth against the pain, trying my best to break free from her grip, but she only snickered and wrapped her fingers around the collar of my shirt…and suddenly my back was pressed against the dirt, with Nanaba’s knee hovering over my chest.

“…No fair!”

“All’s fair in hand-to-hand combat, my dear.” She shifted herself off of my chest, before plopping down in the dirt beside me. I sat up with a groan, immediately reaching for the pair of canteens resting beside us in the shade. “You’re not as speedy as you usually are—still tuckered out from last night?”

“Fuck off.” I could only hope my blush added to my already-burning face from our workout.

“No, I’m serious.” Her smile was softer as she took a swig of her water, brushing her blond hair away from her forehead. “What’s on your mind?”

And suddenly it was coming back to me, so fast I could barely react: lying side by side with Levi in his bed, drawing lazy circles on his chest, dreaming about a future for the two of us beyond the Walls.

“…Nothing, I’m fine.”

But she was persistent; those bright blue eyes were cutting into my skin, poking, prodding for me to elaborate. Damn it, even without saying anything, she’s still so intimidating.

I wasn’t as close to Nanaba as I was with Hanji, but I still considered her one of my dearest friends. But how often had I actually sat down and talked with her like this? How many conversations did we have without the occasional joke thrown in, or with our fists flying during a training session? Nanaba was never the one I went to when it came to talking about my insecurities, or my dreams and fears of the world around me. It had always been Hanji, and later on Levi. But never Nanaba.

Still, there was a weight on my chest that I couldn’t get rid of, a nagging voice in the back of my head that demanded I talk to someone—and as much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t go to either Levi or Hanji this time.

“Come on,” she was leaning against the tree now, her legs crossed at the ankles, “spill already.”

I took another drink from my canteen, fingers trembling against my knees.

“…Do you have any plans…once this is over?”

“Once what is over?”

“You know…this?”

It wasn’t until I gestured to the base around us, to the soldiers training among the trees and the horses grazing in the fields that she seemed to understand. The soles of her boots dug into the dirt, her pointer finger tapping rapidly against the crook of her elbow. I clung to the canteen at my chest, waiting for her to speak.

“Honestly, I haven’t really thought about it.” She shook her head with a smile, which did little to quell the feeling in my chest. “Maybe I’ll tag along with Mike, if he goes back to his parents’ home up north. I don’t think they’d mind all that much.”

Of course they wouldn’t. Mike’s mother simply loved the company whenever we made the trip to Wall Sina, but there was always that sneaking suspicion that she loved Nanaba just a hair more than the rest of us.

Still, there was a forlorn look in her eye, a soft breath passing through her lips as she leaned further back against the tree. Almost as though she didn’t believe her own words.

“That sounds nice,” I whispered, but her eyes drooped to the ground, where she was scuffing up the dust with the heel of her boot. “…Doesn’t it?”

“I guess you could say that.” Her smile was back, but that look in her eye remained. “Now it’s your turn. What do you plan to do after this?”

Every word I could think of was on the tip of my tongue all at once; every silly dream I’d harbored since I was a child, right up until this morning as I curled up into Levi’s side, nestled comfortably in his bed. My cheeks were burning, my voice no more than a hushed mumble. But Nanaba leaned forward eagerly, urging me to speak up. And I knew better than to hide from those soft blue eyes.

You brought this on yourself, Wolf. So own up to it.

“…I want to marry. Maybe have a kid or two…”

I glanced up at her, waiting for a smug smile or a snarky comment about Levi (I know Hanji would absolutely go for it, but Nanaba had a bit more class than her). Instead she was gazing down at me, drumming her fingers against the crook of her elbow, and nodding along to the sound of my voice.

“That sounds nice, too.”

That sad look in her eye was back again, stronger than ever. And suddenly I was starting to feel a twinge in my chest, a gaping hole stretching itself wider and wider as our conversation began to truly sink in.

The question was hanging between us in the air, too heavy to say out loud. Too terrifying to confront head-on.

Do you really think you’ll live long enough to see the end of this war?

It was a question every soldier had to face at one point or another. From every cadet learning how to wield a pair of swords for the first time, to every veteran silently counting down the days with a smile on his face. There was always that lingering fear in their minds, that little voice that held too much weight to be ignored. That constant reminder of the reality of this world, and how cruel and unjust it could be.

We all had our dreams and goals and fears. Hopes for the future, regrets of the past, promises made to one another when all seemed lost. Little things to tell ourselves to get through the day, even if they consisted of unobtainable dreams we would never be able to reach in our lifetimes.

For Nanaba, it was going back home with Mike. For myself, it was settling down with Levi and having a child.

Sweet dreams to cling onto when all seemed lost, that little flicker of light at the end of the tunnel to help us keep pressing on. But all of that meant nothing when staring down the maw of a Titan, its beady eyes filled with rage.

How many of our comrades had held similar dreams? Dreams of returning to their homes and starting a new life for themselves? And how many of those dreams had died alongside them, at the jaws of the Titans beyond the Walls?

A bitter pill to swallow, but necessary nonetheless. It would be a miracle if we all came out of this war alive. We couldn’t afford to waste time wondering about what the future held for us. The best we could do was make the most out of what we could with our lives now.

I leaned against the tree with a sigh, my shoulder touching Nanaba’s beneath the shade. Across the meadows I could see Murphy and Evan, letting their horses out for a quick run. And close behind was Emily, with Ivy galloping after Misty and Gus as fast as her legs could carry her.

And suddenly it clicked—that was the future we were all fighting for. Not just for the good of humanity, for the safety of the people within the Walls, but for the chance to give those kids a better life.

Reggie, Gretel, Evan, Murphy, Emily—even Eld and Gunther, and Petra, Oluo, and Nifa. And every single one of our fresh-faced recruits, and even the cadets still in training at the southern tip of Wall Rose. Even the littler ones who played in the outer districts, who went to school in the heart of Wall Sina, who still got in trouble with their parents for playing too roughly with their siblings.

Those kids were the ones who mattered the most. The ones that were here and now, living and breathing—the most precious people within these Walls.

Maybe I couldn’t reach my dream of having children of my own in this life. But I could damn well do my best to make sure those kids woke up in the morning, without fear of what was lurking beyond our little haven.

|~|

The weight in my chest had eased up as the day carried on. By the time I retired to my office for the night it was no more than a little lump in my throat—easy to choke down when Levi came to visit me, a stack of paperwork under one arm, and a tray of tea in the other.

Neither of us spoke as we settled into our usual routine: the two of us seated across from each other at my desk, the only sound between us being the scratch of our pens against the parchment.

In a way I was relieved; at least neither of us seemed eager to mention my slip-up last night. It was for the best, anyway. The sooner I stopped thinking about it, the sooner it would leave my mind altogether.

But as I filed my papers away for the night, that strange feeling came back like a raging inferno. I grimaced at the culprit: the box set of books Moblit had gotten me for my birthday last night, resting on the edge of the file cabinet.

Where Mom Lives.

My mother’s favorite books to read as she waited for Dad to come home, curled up against the arm of the couch with her elbow propped up on a stack of pillows. She would always shake her head whenever the three of us would climb into her lap and ask her to read aloud to us. “You’re too young,” she would say, but she would still open the blanket and allow us to come cuddle with her. “You won’t appreciate it until you’re older. Much older than you are now.”

Before I knew it I was standing in front of the file cabinet, staring up at the three books above. Red, bronze, and green, each with fine gold trimming along the edges and spines. The pages were crisp and clean, and yet when I took the first book and opened it up, it still had that soft dusty smell to it.

Just like home, and my throat closed up all over again.

A pair of arms came to rest around my waist, and I bit back a smile as Levi pulled me backwards, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I hope you’re not planning on keeping those all to yourself.”

“Oh, would you like to read them when I’m finished?”

But he only shook his head, before leading me away from the cabinet, with his arms still around my waist. This time I laughed as he flopped us down on the couch, side by side, with the pillows pressed against my arm. Wordlessly he stole a pillow from the stack, placed it against my lap, and pressed his cheek to the soft fabric. A few seconds passed before he glanced up at me, the slightest trace of annoyance written across his face.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

With another laugh, I leaned down and kissed his forehead, brushing his long bangs out of his beautiful eyes. Then his nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips. And when I was done, I leaned against the cushions of the couch, turned to the first page, and began to read aloud.

And all the while, as selfish as it was, I thought of sharing a new life with him, just the two of us away from the world, with a home of our own and children in our arms.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #slow burn #levi x oc #levi ackerman #mia wolf #oc x canon #romance #a wolf with wings #wolves of the walls saga #oc story #oc insert #levi x mia #volume I #aot fics

5 notes · View notes