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#adjustment: plotlines
bberry005 · 1 year
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just saying if we get a season 2 of willow, i would totally want it to be about the squad solving the mystery of where madmartigan is and working together to find him
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something i haven’t seen many people talk about is how being duke at the age of 19 (and he was handed the title at 17 too) affected felix in ways he refuses to acknowledge
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the first mention of it is in rodrigue and shez’s c support, which i really thought they were gonna talk about this more in the main plot ???
AND THEN sylvain and dimitri bring it up as well,
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i do find it interesting that dimitri mentions it during the expedition when prompted to talk and that sylvain briefly mentions it with ingrid
the closest felix talks about it is when he talks about rodrigue doing the same thing
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also felix’s special animation after you reach A support with him is him falling asleep and then waking up, shrugging it off afterwards (other characters do this as well but i just find it interesting that this animation was chosen for felix)
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also these lines before and after the expedition, most characters usually say some variant of this cause it is War Time and having a tea party is a quite nice distraction so i’m not looking too hard on these lines but still wanted to acknowledge them
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anyways felix please get some rest, you and dimitri are both too young to be handling such responsibilities during war
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markantonys · 8 months
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s2 clips coming out left right and center yet they still won't even let me hear what donal's Mat Voice sounds like
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chaosintheavenue · 2 years
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Conclusion from the opinion poll:
A majority of people consider Fallout tactics, and Van Buren, to be canon into contradicted. So I think people love to eat lore
Absolutely! One thing I'm always pleasantly surprised by is the number of people who consider Van Buren to be fully canon.
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lunataurora · 5 months
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kinda funny seeing that last queued tf post with me gushing in the tags abt the comic bc i havent felt joy or even an emotional connection reading mtmte for a while
#idk man something just aint right. whether im just getting hit with another depressive episode or. idk.#the writing just feels... different. it feels weirdly cartoony? even though. the beginning was also really cartoony? but this feels worse#i liked the beginning so much more i liked the characters that cared so little about each other and the overall oppressive mood#idk part of it is i really dont like typical western superhero comic tropes and writing styles at aalllllllll#i cant stand the lack of foreshadowing and 'well just believe that it was secretly always like this' and the superpowers and trying to#raise the stakes by just Saying 'you might die' but its ok nobody does nor does the concern cross your mind#and i cant tell if the jokes are worse or more frequent but certain characters dont even seem like themselves anymore to me#the last thing i enjoyed was around when rewind killed a man. everything since has felt like some marvel movie type writing and it hurts#what happened to nuance and reading between the lines my good friends nuance and reading between the lines#'the one with sunder was good its a really good horror' <- why did you lie to me. are you mad at me#it wasnt even fun..... wasnt even interesting......#isnt this supposed to be a story abt attempting to adjust to postwar life and how fucked everything is. and how no#-thing is morally cut between good/evil? theres nuance? theres depth? whered all that depth go? maybe i imagined it this whole time#like.even the thing with skids gave me less of an impact when its surrounded by such. cheezyness. it deserves more consideration? respect?#good god its a very direct depiction of a very real horror dealt to rEAL PEOPLE#AND ITS CORRELATED WITH 'OTHERS RECEIVE SUPERPOWERS FROM THIS REVELATION' FUCK YOU#i feel bad for that plotline existing in that fucking situation jesus fucking christ you can't just do something like that#like. just. 'trauma gives you superpowers and also your suffering makes others stronger' how abt i go drink bleach.#maybe someone else will have a GREAT time if i do. <- kidding but like. christ man what the fuck#does this have to do with his whole 'i shouldnt have done red alert like that' idk what to tell you boss but that was nowhere near as bad#as the skids superpower giving scene.#red alert was fine it made sense it was severely relatable. it happens. but skids? no that fucking doesnt. what is that even trying to mean#beyond yknow. what guilt does to people. and cementing the worst of the war that um. isnt going to feel much justice at all it seems#sorry im in a very. tear everything apart kind of mood#dummy posts
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lestatslestits · 8 months
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My Gabriel hot take is that the reason he’s Like That in season one is because God designed him to be someone who is really passionate about, like, operating charcoal grills and experimenting with microbrewing, and he’s not getting appropriate enrichment in Heaven, which is leading to behavioral issues.
My ideal season 3 Gabriel plotline would be that he has chilled out into a friendly, weirdly well-adjusted guy whose deepest desire is to host barbecues. I also think he should have decided, apropos of nothing, that Aziraphale and Crowley are his best friends, with seemingly no understanding that Crowley holds a grudge and would immolate him at the first opportunity. He calls them frat bro names like “Big Z” and “Crow Man,” and wants to invite them over for board game and charcuterie nights and Beelzebub has to be like “babe they absolutely do NOT want to come over for board game and charcuterie nights.”
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spookyserenades · 9 months
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Trouvaille - Chapter Eight
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Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 23.4k
Trouvaille Masterlist
Trouvaille playlist
Updates on the 7th of each month
Annnd it's August!! We've come a full year (at least, since I've begun writing Trouvaille) and now the story is matching up with post dates 💃🏻 I hope you're all well! This update features some angst, and the final two scenting scenes.... one of which is particularly spicy, as a head's up! This chapter concludes the scenting arc, and after this, we'll be moving more quickly into other plotlines 🥳 There's also plenty of tender moments in this chapter, so I hope you'll enjoy those as well. As always, comments, feedback, questions, and even ranting/screaming is always welcomed! My inbox is open, as is the taglist. Without further ado, please enjoy this update!!
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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Jeongguk gracefully pulled back from her body, the agile movement allowing him to land backwards on the balls of his feet so he could lean against one of his bed posts, staring down at Y/N with lidded eyes. Adjusting the strap of her tank top back over her shoulder, Y/N frowned slightly when she realized the fabric covered his mark up. Jeongguk hummed, appearing to be gathering his thoughts before he resumed the conversation they were having prior to his… collapse. 
“So, none of us particularly like Taehyung. I mean, that much is fucking obvious. Contrary to what you may have assumed, I think you’re a pretty smart girl– I’m sure you’ve picked up on all of us avoiding him like a virus,” Jeongguk began, a thoughtful look spreading across his face. Stunned by the compliment, Y/N felt herself flush from the neck upwards. 
“Even so, he’s not a threat to us. If he wanted to kill any of us, he would have done it already. So really, there’s no reason for us… er, Namjoon, really, to knock his teeth down his throat. Yet. From what Yoongi told me about his little chat with the bear, Taehyung is in no hurry to befriend any of us yet– all the more reason for us to give him space,” Jeongguk adjusted the loose collar of his tee shirt as he spoke, before trudging on, “If things get sticky and there’s cops knocking on the front door somewhere down the line, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. We’re all keeping an eye on him in the meantime, but I’m confident he won’t hurt you, at the very least,” Jeongguk continued, watching Y/N carefully as she heaved her upper body up so she could sit up straight. 
“So what you’re saying is… you’ve all decided to steer clear of Tae, but keep him under surveillance at all times? And all the while, he’s content with just keeping to himself? Is that right?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, the elk hybrid’s tapered ears flickering lazily as he nodded in response. “Is it wishful thinking to hope fights like that won’t happen again between any of you?”
Chuckling without responding to her inquiries, Jeongguk passed a tattooed hand over his face, moving to his wardrobe to pull some fresh sweatpants out of it. While his back was turned to her Y/N dragged her eyes up from his legs, over his muscular back, and to his mussed hair and antlers. His antlers were truly something to marvel at; though the scale of them were significantly smaller than were when Y/N first saw them while he was still in elk form. She wondered if that was some kind of trait scientists had worked into elk hybrid DNA. After all, it would be pretty difficult for Jeongguk to carry around the weight of full-scale elk antlers while shifted into human form. The shape of them seemed to encircle his head, perhaps another scientist’s idea, maybe to prevent others from colliding into the antlers accidentally, compared to the way if they’d branch out horizontally– taking up more sideways space. They were covered in a rich brown velvet and looked soft to the touch, Y/N staring at them unabashedly since his back was turned. 
Squinting, she noticed the very tip of one of his antlers, one that was crooked like a tree, seemed to have a viscous liquid sluggishly rolling down the length of it, and as she leaned closer to get a look at it, Y/N realized it was blood. Stiffening, Y/N immediately got to her feet, rushing over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder without thinking. Jeongguk flinched in surprise, looking down at her with a scandalized expression as she got on her tip-toes to confirm that he was truly bleeding. 
“Jeongguk, you’re bleeding! One of your antlers!” Y/N exclaimed, reaching her hand upwards to touch before stopping herself abruptly. She didn’t know if antlers, like hybrid ears, were sensitive, and didn’t want to risk him getting angry with her. 
A noise of surprise fell from his lips, gripping his sweatpants in his fist and stalking towards his bathroom while mumbling to himself. Y/N followed after him hot on his heels, eyes on a spot of velvet covering his antlers that seemed to be beginning to peel away from the bony appendage. In the mirror, he turned his head in a few different directions, a deep grimace appearing on his face as a droplet of blood slipped down his antler and onto his cheek. 
“Aw, fuck… its late August, I forgot about this bullshit. Don’t worry about it, I’m not hurt. My velvet’s just shedding,” Jeongguk groaned, using the back of his hand to smear the blood off of his face with annoyance. “Unfortunately, I’ll be walking around here for the next few days looking gory as hell, and it makes a goddamn mess.”
“How often does that happen?” Y/N asked, awed. Gripping the lip of his granite sink vanity, Jeongguk made eye contact with her reflection. 
“Just once a year, usually around this time,” Jeongguk answered, spinning slowly so he could look down at her again. “Alright, let’s focus, here. I want to shower and sleep for at least four hours.”
Blushing, it dawned on Y/N that she was taking up a bit too much of his time especially after he had stayed up the entire night, clearing her throat. Part of her ached to ask more questions surrounding the particular subject of velvet shedding; such as if it was painful for him, but she bit her tongue. 
“You’re right, okay. What else should I know?” Y/N inched backwards into his bedroom, the elk hybrid leaning his hip against his sink vanity. Out of the corner of her eye, she clocked the charm bag she had made him resting on his dresser, beside his notebook and the ruby rosary he’d used to get rid of that entity. He had half a mind to ask about it, one million questions begging for answers from the elk hybrid, but she had to keep it together, for now. 
“Last night was a full moon. Namjoon is a wolf hybrid… Do you know what I’m trying to say?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes purposefully when Y/N shook her head with confusion.
“You know, how there’s that idea that wolves howl at the full moon and are riled up by it? Technically, it’s something of a circulated rumor, but I’m led to believe that there’s some truth in it. It’s not like he’s a werewolf or anything, so stop looking at me like that. I think a full moon just influences his mood, that’s all. He’s more agitated and moody than he’d be otherwise. This whole week leading up to the full moon the wolf has been acting bizarre, anyways; fine one moment, pissed off the next with no explanation as to why. It gave me whiplash, at first, before I put the pieces together.”
She was still staring at Jeongguk incredulously, trying to process that he was pretty much telling her the explanation for Namjoon’s behavior was adjacent to Hollywood lycanthrope lore. Her mother always used to tell her people tended to act a bit strangely on the nights of a full moon, but never really put much stock into the theory. If anything, it was a sort of flimsy excuse as to why Namjoon had totally flown off of the handle, but she’d take any information Jeongguk would give her gratefully. 
“I suppose if that is true, certain things would make more sense to me,” Y/N began slowly, trying not to make any more funny faces at the elk hybrid or insult his insight. “I get what you mean. He’ll be willing to converse one minute and the next he’s either glaring at me or avoiding me like I’m the plague. You two worked together to get rid of that entity, and the following day you both had that little spat outside…” 
“It’s his species. Wolf hybrids aren’t adopted very often, they’re extremely temperamental, territorial. He’s been trying to establish dominance over the rest of the house since he’s gotten here,” Jeongguk yawned, another trail of blood falling from his antler and running down the side of his face. He didn’t seem to notice. “Then again, none of the hybrids you’ve adopted find homes quickly, unless they plan on shooting us or something. Not many humans are comfortable with lions, tigers, and bears in their homes.”
Snorting at his Wizard of Oz reference, Y/N sobered up a bit. The sad reality that she had only come to adopt her hybrids because no one else had wanted them, apart from someone looking to hunt them down for sport, had her stomach churning. Hybrids that were spliced with domesticated animal DNA were always the popular choice for the average potential adopting owner looking for companionship, as most people knew how to handle animals such as cats, dogs, and rabbits. The behavior of a jaguar hybrid was quite different than any house cat hybrid she had ever met. She thought it wise to order some guidebooks online that night; if she hadn’t known about Jeongguk’s velvet shedding, or Namjoon’s sensitivity to the moon cycle, what else didn’t she know?
“A lot of humans are just evil. Honestly, I’m surprised that they haven’t passed a law making hybrid hunting illegal. Makes me think some of these lawmakers partake in it themselves,” Y/N seethed, the primal urge to protect her hybrids coming back to her again. It seemed to be a frequent emotion, especially in the past 24 hours. “Alright, let me get out of your hair, or I’ll go on a tangent. Is that all you wanted to tell me?”
“Yeah, I think that’s it. They’re probably going to be pretty pitiful when you go down to confront them, just warning you. They know they fucked up, neither of them want to upset you any further, so you should be good. You might need to patch them up a bit, they both got a few good blows to the face. Reeks of blood in here,” Jeongguk sighed, flicking the light on in his bathroom, turning the shower tap on as he spoke. 
Growing antsy, Y/N decided it was time to get a move on before Jeongguk started stripping in front of her, knowing that he wasn’t exactly above that. She had a feeling Jeongguk knew exactly how much he affected her. With a jolt, her brain registered that it was highly likely that all of the hybrids in the house heard the pitiful noises she made when they scented her. It was slightly embarrassing, but there was nothing she could do about it. It probably wasn’t even something they thought twice about. 
“Right, so I’m going to go talk to them, I guess… clean them up. Please get some rest, then come get some food, okay? Oh, and thank you, again, for everything. You’re sweeter than you look, Jeongguk,” Y/N couldn’t help but to tease him a little bit, Jeongguk snapping his head around as he was checking the water temperature and sending her an unimpressed grimace. She could see a whisper of amusement in his midnight eyes, however. 
With that, Y/N offered Jeongguk a sincere smile before shutting his bedroom door and setting off down the hall. Mindlessly brushing a hand over the shoulder he had scented, Y/N felt her skin flushing as she thought about how brazen he had been, and how he was able to just switch it off in a flash and resume civil conversation with her. It was a bit disorienting, she thought, swiping the first aid kit she’d dumped on the bottom step of the staircase before running up to talk to Jeongguk. 
Taking several breaths, Y/N started the short distance down the hall to Namjoon’s bedroom. The door was open; light from his large windows flooding out into the hallway, and Y/N hesitated as she approached the doorway. She could tell both of them were in there, the sounds of heavy books being slid back into their spots on the bookshelf and the ruffling of clothes being folded telling her so. Swallowing down her nerves, Y/N entered the room. 
Namjoon was by the bed, which had been made already, folding all of the clothes he had torn out of his wardrobe. He was facing the window, away from her, but his ears were flat against his skull and his shoulders were drooped, so she knew he was aware of her presence. They had almost completely restored the room to how it was before all hell had broken loose the previous night, the blood on the floor mopped away, each item on Namjoon’s desk placed back in their rightful spots. Taehyung was staring at her from the book shelf, looking from her face to the medical kit in her hand while he cautiously placed a clothbound book about candle magic back in place. 
“Morning,” Y/N greeted evenly, wanting to ease into the scolding as best she could. Judging by the thick cloud of doom in the room she had walked into, both of them already felt bad enough. 
Entering the bedroom a bit further, she eyed Taehyung, who had hung his head and started to lift another book off of the floor. He’d changed into a fresh outfit, but looked disheveled and sleep deprived. She placed the first aid kit on Namjoon’s bed, standing a few feet from him as she unzipped it slowly. 
Namjoon was surreptitiously avoiding her eyes, Y/N watching him fold a pair of jeans with his knuckles bloodied and bruised. He had thrown on sweats and a simple white tee shirt, and had apparently showered with his damp silver hair pushed back from his face, but like Taehyung, his appearance was tired and out of sorts. Silently, she scooped up the small armful of clothes he had folded, placed them back into his wardrobe, and marched back to her spot beside him. 
“Come here, both of you. I want to clean up your injuries before they get infected,” Y/N commanded firmly, pointing at the bed she wanted them to sit on. “And, we need to talk. Or, I can talk and you can listen.”
Taehyung moved promptly, though rather leisurely, sitting on the foot of Namjoon’s bed. In consequence, the wolf hybrid sprung out of the way, nearly knocking Y/N over in the process. Gritting her teeth, she waited for Namjoon to sit down on the mattress a few feet from Taehyung with reluctant obedience. He still wouldn’t look at her. 
Slipping into injury evaluation mode, Y/N assessed their wounds while trying to remove her emotions with great difficulty in doing so. Both had torn and bruised knuckles; Namjoon had a nasty cut over his right eyebrow and a split lip, Taehyung’s cheekbone and jaw was bruised and it looked like he might have bitten through his lip with his teeth when Namjoon had directed a blow there. Tutting, Y/N got to work by beginning to load up some cotton rounds with disinfectant. 
“You two don’t have to be best friends, hell, you don’t even have to like each other. But you cannot get physically violent like that, no matter how you rationalize its justification. It’s not fair to the others that they were forced to break up your fight last night.”
Y/N knelt in front of Namjoon, who was closest to her, taking one of his hands that was gripping his knees and arranging his digits to be splayed over hers, dabbing away caked-on blood with the cotton round as she spoke. His hand was limp in hers, like he had resigned to being touched, and she could finally feel his amber stare on her even as she focused on his injured hand. He didn’t react to the stinging sensation of the disinfectant, even when she moved over to his dominant hand that had the brunt of the damage to the knuckles. She was erring on the side of being especially gentle with her ministrations, considering they were paired with a bit of a scolding. 
“What would have happened if they weren’t here? If it was just the three of us, would you have fought until one of you got knocked out or killed? You know I can’t break up a physical altercation between any of you, you’re hybrids. Stronger and faster than me, sharper instincts, and you’re men on top of it all,” Y/N continued, rising from her knees to sit in between the two of them. “I know you’re both more than capable of having a conversation to hash out conflict. The violence was unnecessary, and it really broke my heart to see you two like that.”
The solemn vocalization of her feelings echoed about the room hollowly. She motioned for Taehyung to give her his hands while she saturated another cotton ball with fresh disinfectant. He slid his hand into hers easily, remaining eerily quiet as she cleaned him up. Surprisingly, both hybrids hadn’t made an attempt to respond to her in any way, almost making her feel guilty for even attempting to admonish them in the first place, but she knew she had to put her foot down before things escalated again. There was not a cell in her body that wanted to be patching up wounds inflicted by each other in the near future, and she was making that clear. 
Pulling out some Neosporin, Y/N swiftly applied it to both hybrid’s hands, taking a few moments to collect her thoughts. The room was deathly silent, Y/N getting the feeling both of them were holding their breath. Shocked that Namjoon was letting her touch him this much, Y/N let out a ragged sigh, ready to wrap their hands before moving onto their faces. 
“Namjoon, could you pass me that roll of gauze, please?” Y/N murmured, squeezing his palm lightly as she dabbed ointment on the knuckle of his right index finger, the most mangled one of all. Clearing his throat, Namjoon rummaged around in the kit, the roll of gauze appearing before her face at once. “Thank you.”
“Y/N… I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispered suddenly, Y/N motions wrapping the gauze around Namjoon’s hand methodically pausing for a moment. “I started it, shoving Namjoon. It spun out of control from there.”
Namjoon’s grip on her hand tightened as he grunted lightly, Y/N peering up at him curiously. There was a deep frown on his face, knowing that Taehyung was taking a bit too much of the blame. She finished wrapping up his hands, turning to Taehyung to do the same. She still had their faces to work on, Y/N clocking the dried blood crusted onto the sharp edge of the Kodiak hybrid’s jawline. 
“I shoved him first,” Namjoon muttered, remorse dripping from his tone ever so slightly. Stunned, Y/N gawked at Namjoon through her peripherals while trying her best to steadily wrap Taehyung’s hand, looping the gauze around his thumb and back over his palm. 
“Please, just– can you both try to avoid fighting like that? It makes me sad, seeing you two beat up like this. Please promise me you won’t do something like this again. No more violence in this house,” Y/N finished what almost felt like a parental spiel, dropping the gauze in her lap as she got up from her seat between them. 
She was met with two pairs of eyes hesitant to lock with her own, and Y/N wondered what some of the others had said to them to get them to such a somber state of mind. Taehyung nodded, looking at his feet, while Namjoon’s ears drooped even further downwards. 
“Alright, I’m done scolding. I’ll get some washcloths from the bathroom, fix up your faces,” Y/N brightened her tone a few degrees, spinning on her heel and disappearing into Namjoon’s en suite. 
She returned after a couple of short moments, two warm washcloths in her hands as she stood in front of the wolf hybrid. Finally, he looked her in the eyes, his as unreadable as always, Y/N gripping the cloth in her hand before leaning down a bit to scan his face. Sighing sadly, she used her free hand to tuck a couple of fingers under his chin, tilting his face upwards and to the side so she could begin to blot away at the dried blood crusted around his eyebrow. While he definitely grew rigid with her close proximity and touch, Namjoon allowed her to clean up his face gently. 
Cupping his jaw with her hand, Y/N dabbed all of the blood off of Namjoon’s brow, cheekbone, and finally his split lower lip as tenderly as she could, all while avoiding getting lost in his turbulent gaze. She tried to work quickly; the silence around her was absolutely deafening, and she was well aware that Namjoon wasn’t exactly keen on receiving physical touch. 
“Okay, Namjoon… looks like you’ll just need a bandage over your eyebrow,” Y/N murmured absently, peeling the paper from plastic of a butterfly bandage to apply over the site. No matter what, both hybrid’s injuries would likely disappear within two days with their healing capabilities. “Sit still for me, won’t you?”
Y/N gently requested the latter part of her statement, noting that Namjoon was slightly squirming in his seat, his fluffy silver tail beating against his mattress periodically. He didn’t appear to like obeying orders from her, Y/N able to spot that from his body language a mile away, but did so without an utterance of a complaint. He really must have felt bad about his behavior the previous night. 
“I… shouldn’t have said those things to you last night,” Namjoon vocalized out of the blue as she was smoothing the bandage over his brow bone. “I’m… sorry. Uh, hmm. Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t actually think of you in that, um, way.”
Namjoon spoke as if it was the first time he was tasting a genuine apology on his tongue, the words clunky and awkward in his mouth. Even still, Y/N could detect the sincerity in them, even if it was the most bizarre way she had ever been apologized to. She kept in mind Jimin and Jeongguk’s theories that he hadn’t had much practice in being around sensitive emotions. She wondered if the speculation on his file that he had been a hybrid raised in the wilderness was actually true, based on his difficulty with dealing with certain emotional situations, but brushed it aside for later as she used a clean finger to spread some Neosporin onto his swollen cut lip. She didn’t miss the tiny intake of breath that came from him as her finger traced over the soft flesh.
The apology hung in the air heavily as she figured out how to respond. She’d pretty much forgiven Namjoon already, after his display of contrition and Jeongguk’s speculation that the full moon may have agitated him into volatility. As seconds ticked by and he was left without a reply, Y/N moving away from him to toss the bandage wrapper in the trash by his desk and the bloodied washcloth in the hamper, Namjoon began to fidget uncomfortably again. Humming, she turned back to him, reaching out to graze across his cheek softly. He stilled at the touch, pupils blown wide. 
“I know. I forgive you, Namjoon,” Y/N smiled softly as she brushed her thumb over his elegant cheekbone, hoping that this event wouldn’t encourage the wolf hybrid to build up even stronger walls around himself. “Let’s try to put this behind us. Okay?” 
Dropping her hand from Namjoon’s face, she turned her attention to Taehyung sitting stoically on the bed, his tongue peeking out from between his lips to try and get rid of some of the crusted-on blood at the corner of his mouth. Using the remaining clean rag, Y/N gingerly washed away the blood around his mouth, the Kodiak hybrid flinching as she passed over the tender, bruised area by his jaw. She quickly mumbled out an apology, using her palm to brush his curls off of his forehead to make sure the area was without injury. There was a small scrape by his hairline, Y/N dabbing away at it with a sigh. 
“You got each other pretty good, huh? If we ever have an intruder, I’d actually feel bad for that son of a bitch,” Y/N attempted to lighten the mood, tired of simmering in angst and gloom. 
Though neither of them chuckled at her joke, Y/N felt Taehyung’s posture loosen up a bit from beneath her. He didn’t need any bandages on his face, so Y/N expertly disinfected the wounds and finished up with the Neosporin. She ruffled Taehyung’s curls back into their place, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze before packing up the first aid kit. 
“I think you’ve put this place back together well enough, you two should eat and take it easy the rest of the day, maybe get some space. Just find me later and I’ll refresh the gauze on your hands,” Y/N slung the strap of the kit over her shoulder, motioning for them to stand and follow her out into the kitchen. When she was patching up Namjoon’s face, she heard his stomach grumbling, and wanted the both of them to have a proper breakfast. “Yoongi made these really yummy pastries, perfect for fall coming up… some kind of hash, as well.”
The mention of pastries seemed too tempting to pass up for Namjoon not to stand from the bed and inch towards the door, Taehyung following close behind. Smiling, Y/N felt them waiting for her as she returned her kit to the closet beneath the stairs. She noticed Namjoon’s ears finally perked up after being flat against his skull for so long, a few shades of color coming back to his complexion. Taehyung remained a touch grim, shuffling beside Y/N silently as they headed for the kitchen. 
Only Yoongi remained in the room, Jimin and Seokjin’s plates cleared away as they obviously fled to other parts of the house, perhaps to nap or wash up. The leopard hybrid was busy stacking leftover pastries onto a platter, the kitchen polished to a shine. Stiffly, both Namjoon and Taehyung took seats at the opposite ends of the kitchen; the former perching on a barstool, the Kodiak hybrid sliding into the booth of the breakfast nook. 
“There’s still some hash left. Though, I’m not really in the mood to share it with either of you,” Yoongi said as soon as Namjoon sat across from where the leopard hybrid was standing and arranging pastries onto the platter, Y/N snickering lightly. 
Now close by Yoongi’s side, Y/N attempted to butter him up a bit so he’d concede and let the other two eat. He peered down at her curiously, the curiosity quickly replaced by suspicion as she batted her eyelashes at him and placed a hand on his forearm. He looked pretty with his hair tied back, displaying several shiny silver hoops dangling from his ears, the tips of which were blushing pink. 
“Yoongi, come on, can’t you share a little? You made so much. I want another cinnamon roll, too, anyways,” Y/N pouted, really laying it on thick. She hypothesized Yoongi was pretty easy to convince if teasing was involved, his tail flicking furiously behind him as he stared down at her hard. 
“Fine,” Yoongi grumbled, Y/N letting go of his forearm with a satisfied hum. “But I’m not serving them. Get it yourselves.”
Yoongi eyed the other two hybrids in the room with contempt, all while placing the pastry with the most cinnamon and icing on it on a plate, offering it to Y/N promptly. He was too cute, and too sweet, for his own good, she thought. 
“Thanks, Yoongi,” Y/N took the plate gratefully, smiling at him brightly as she immediately dove into the pastry. 
She remained by his side, as he placed plastic wrap over the leftover pastries, though not before Namjoon was able to swipe one from where he was sitting. The wolf hybrid winced as the split skin of his lower lip stretched to take a bite, Yoongi chuckling lightly and shaking his head. 
“Serves you right,” the leopard hybrid muttered, Y/N stepping on his foot as soon as the words left his mouth. In retaliation, his tail flicked back furiously enough to smack the back of her thigh, forcing a muffled squeak out of her mouth stuffed full with pastry. 
Taehyung had filled up a plate with hash wordlessly, returning to the breakfast nook to eat by himself. After she was done with her cinnamon roll, Y/N decided to refill Yoongi’s coffee mug for him, ambling over to the coffee bar. She happened to peer out the kitchen slider window, a flash of something colorful outside catching her eye. Startled, she set Yoongi’s mug down, getting closer to the window. 
“Oh my gosh! Is that Hoseok?” Y/N exclaimed, spotting the vibrant orange coat of a lean fox scampering around the backyard playfully. Foxes didn’t typically come out during the day time, and Y/N could hardly remember the last time one had visited her backyard. 
“Yeah. I think he wanted to blow off some steam. Seokjin should be out there with him too,” Yoongi replied from across the kitchen, putting some condiments back into the refrigerator. “It’s not too often hybrids like to shift more than necessary, it’s more comfortable to be in our human forms. But being in animal form has its uses, mainly to expend any pent-up energy.”
Following Hoseok’s quick movements around the back yard with eager eyes, Y/N could barely keep track of him. Another noise of exclamation came from her as a separate form came into her view– a blue-black jaguar, slinking lazily around the hedges leading further back into the property. The sight was startling, of course, even though she knew it was only Seokjin. A childlike giddiness welled up inside of her as she watched the two hybrids explore the backyard, wondering if it would be alright for her to go outside and take a look at them more closely. 
“Why don’t you go out there? Unless you prefer gawking from afar,” Yoongi’s voice echoing her inner thoughts was suddenly much closer to her, taking his refilled mug from the coffee bar with a wry grin. 
“Would it be okay? I mean, I don’t want to bother them or anything, if they’re trying to blow off steam,” Y/N questioned, Yoongi looking highly amused. 
“I doubt you’d be bothering them. Just make sure you turn around when they shift back, so you don’t get flashed,” Yoongi confirmed, pointing to the lawn chairs with both hybrid’s sets of clothes, folded neatly. 
Scandalized, Y/N felt her face become as hot as an iron, though the desire to potentially interact with Seokjin and Hoseok while they were shifted greatly outweighed her embarrassment towards Yoongi’s comment. She could hear Namjoon muttering from his seat several feet away, Y/N yanking the slider door open excitedly before she could stop herself. She knew that Yoongi would be able to handle any bickering between the other two, and definitely nip it in the bud, so she left the three of them in the kitchen without too much worry. 
The temperature outside was boiling and only growing hotter, Y/N cursing as she stepped out into the sunlight on the patio. Autumn’s arrival had never been so anticipated by her, especially as she began to perspire as soon as she felt the heat on her skin. She could no longer spot Seokjin, but could see Hoseok, who had paused his energetic sprints around the backyard to stand statue-still, staring at her with his head cocked. 
Hoseok was a beautiful fox, his coat a glossy sunset color, his frame athletic and larger than most foxes she had seen before. Even from afar, she could now confidently tell that it was Hoseok, his clever eyes remaining and glowing even in his animal form. All she could think to do was wave, swearing she could hear Yoongi’s laughter from inside of the house, but it was one of the last things on her mind. Before she could even gather her thoughts enough to ask Hoseok to come closer, he did. 
Hoseok bounded over to her, a noise of delight tearing from her lips as he sped past her in a flash, circling around her form joyfully while chittering softly. Y/N couldn’t believe she had an opportunity to interact with a fox so closely, Hoseok continuing to dash around her as if to dare her to try and catch him. Giggling, Y/N sunk her knees down into the sweet-scented warm grass, hoping he’d approach her once she lowered herself down. It was strange, to keep in mind that she wasn’t dealing with a wild animal, but with Hoseok, her charming and sunny fox hybrid. 
“Hoseok, are you having fun? It’s not too hot out here for you?” Y/N cooed, trying her best to track his movements as he circled closer and closer around her body kneeling in the grass. 
Hoseok chirped from behind her, Y/N feeling the bristly brush of his tail against the back of her arm as he got nearer than ever, until he made his final semi-circle to face her more fully. By the way she was sitting, Hoseok’s face was only an inch or so below her chin, Y/N able to count the black whiskers on his snout. 
“You’re awfully cute like this, you know?” Y/N couldn’t help but comment, fingers twitching to reach out and scratch under his chin. She found it easy to tease Hoseok when his sharp tongue was unable to quip back, the fox hybrid leaning back on his haunches and staring at her inquisitively.
All at once, Hoseok stretched forward, his body laying down in the grass and his face settling down on Y/N’s knees. Trying not to squeal at the sensation of soft fur of his face brushing her knees as his chin settled in her lap, Y/N froze, her hands hovering mid-air as Hoseok made himself comfortable. 
“Oh boy. Cozy, Hoseok?” Y/N chuckled, still refraining from indulging her desire to bury her fingers into Hoseok’s lustrous fur, as difficult as it was. Still, she couldn’t help but ask, at the very least. “Can I touch?” 
Of course, Hoseok was unable to answer in his shifted state, but he nuzzled his face further into the bare skin of her thighs, tail swishing behind him languidly. Taking his reaction to her words as a go-ahead, considering he hadn’t yanked himself away, Y/N promptly buried a hand in the silky fur between his ears.
 Immediately, she massaged through the fur, lightly scratching Hoseok’s scalp with her fingernails as his eyes slipped shut with the sensation. Like always, she avoided the hybrid’s ears out of consideration for their sensitivity, stroking down from the crown of his head to between his shoulder blades. In her lap, Hoseok had become a boneless heap, enjoying every touch she had to offer, his breath coming out in short pants wafting over the skin of her legs. 
She must have hit a sweet spot right behind one of his ears, Hoseok shuddering as his eyes snapped open. Kneading her fingers into the spot a bit more firmly in response, a tiny growl came from the fox, the pink of his tongue flashing before her eyes as he dragged it in a long strip over her thigh. Jolting at the velvety, wet sensation, Y/N’s cheeks were flaming, though she wasn’t exactly surprised that Hoseok was teasing her even while fully shifted into his fox form. 
“Cheeky boy,” Y/N muttered, still stroking the soft fur behind his ears as she looked away from him, trying to find Seokjin in the tall grasses and weeds making up the backyard. “Hmm… where’s my Seokjin, huh?” 
Mostly talking to herself, her hand slipped away from Hoseok’s crown as he sat up, head turned towards the large tree by the picnic table. Slow blinking at her through his peripherals, Y/N followed his gaze, squinting at the tree a little ways in the distance. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, the thick branches of the ancient oak tree cloaking the picnic table in ample shade, the vibrant green leaves rustling with the dry breeze. Taking a closer look once Hoseok nudged his nose towards it, Y/N scanned the crooked branches stretching across the sky as she got to her feet to follow Hoseok trotting over to the tree. 
“Oh!” Y/N squeaked, finally managing to see what Hoseok was trying to show her. Seokjin had climbed the tree, resting on a particularly thick branch lazily. 
One of his arms was dangling off of the branch, Y/N gulped at the razor-sharp claws hanging in front of her face. Hoseok barked out a strange sound close to the word wow, pawing at the tree trunk as Seokjin placidly opened his eyes, peering down at her and the fox hybrid. Her pulse was racing, not being able to get over being near such a large (and usually lethal) cat. In one fell swoop, Seokjin elegantly jumped down from the branch, Y/N stumbling backwards in shock as he landed in front of her. The impact he made with the soft grass was barely audible, Seokjin incredibly light on his feet for his size; considering his stocky build and strong musculature. Trying not to stare at his fangs as Seokjin returned Hoseok’s vocalizations with a hoarse, guttural noise, Y/N watched as Hoseok got in the jaguar’s face and began to screech, as foxes do when engaging in fights. 
“Uh oh. Are you two fighting now?” Y/N giggled, Hoseok immediately clamming up and sitting down to stare at her. “Aren’t you best friends, though?”
Seokjin pulled away from Hoseok, stalking towards Y/N. Doing her best to remain still, she allowed Seokjin to approach her without shying away– his copper-penny eyes boring into her intensely. To her great surprise, Seokjin ducked his head, nudging Y/N’s palm and apparently attempting to get her to pet him. A soft exclamation fell from her mouth, her fingertips smoothing over his skull while he leaned up into the touch with a feral purr. She kept repeating in her mind– it was her sweet, gentle Seokjin, the one who held her until she fell asleep the previous night, not a wild jaguar that might take her hand off. 
“So pretty,” Y/N breathed, getting a good look at Seokjin’s blue-black coat.
 Darker fur along his torso was decorated with rosettes, and his coat was glossy, but Y/N did not miss some of the old scars littering his body, much like the ones she had noticed the day she had adopted him and treated the wound on his side. Biting down on her lip, Y/N focused on scratching behind Seokjin’s ears, him seeming to enjoy it just as much as Hoseok had by the way he was rubbing his face against her thigh. Using her free arm to swipe sweat off of her forehead, Y/N ached to head back into the AC, even being in the shade wasn’t enough to convince her to spend any more time outside. Hoseok began to pant as he sniffed around the oak tree, the heat surely taking a toll on him as well. 
“Guys, we should head in. It’s too hot out here to be out for very long, and I’m dying for a popsicle or something. Care to join?” Y/N cupped Seokjin’s face, scratching below his ears soothingly as she spoke. His eyes were shut, turning to putty in her hands. 
Hoseok promptly scampered to the patio where he had left his clothes, Y/N trailing after him with Seokjin close behind. The latter seemed a little disappointed that she had to stop petting him in order to follow Hoseok, but he trudged beside her quietly regardless. Reaching the scorching-hot pavingstones of the patio, Y/N heard the slider door yank open, but was too busy staring at the fox and jaguar in front of her. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to being so close to apex predators like that, willing to be pet and doted on. 
Her vision cut out as a sinewy hand pressed over her eyes, another gripping her waist as she was pulled into someone’s chest abruptly. Squealing, Y/N grabbed at the wrist keeping her waist in place, the scent of vanilla and mulled spice filling her senses. 
“I told you to turn around, or you’d get flashed. Those two are shameless,” Yoongi whispered into her ear, Y/N shivering at the paired sensation of his hair brushing against her neck and his gravelly voice from inches away. Even though she tried to squirm away from the leopard hybrid, his grasp on her was ironclad, keeping her firmly in place with her back against his chest. 
“Hey, Yoongi, you’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack, sneaking up on her like that,” Hoseok’s voice finally rang out in the humid air, Yoongi’s clamp over her eyes only growing firmer. 
“Put some pants on, Foxy. Standing there chastising me with your junk out, have a little decency or self respect, at the very least,” Yoongi replied gruffly, Y/N all but melting into his chest with the proximity and the timbre of his voice. 
“Oh, like what you see, kitty?” Hoseok shot back over a mouthful of laughter, the sounds of fabric sliding over flesh from a few feet away heightened with one of her senses robbed from her. 
“You never seem to run out of shit to say, huh?” Yoongi griped, his pinky finger threading through one of the belt loops in her denim shorts. For some reason, the action felt incredibly intimate. “Your fly is down, Seokjin.”
All at once, Yoongi’s hand dropped from her face, Y/N blinking rapidly as bright sunlight burned her eyes once her sight was returned to her. Yoongi maintained his grip on her waist almost possessively, and she knew the sweat rolling down the back of her neck suddenly had nothing to do with the heat outside.
As her eyes focused, she caught Seokjin tugging up the zipper on his jeans, his broad shoulders straining against the white tee shirt he’d shrugged on haphazardly. Gulping, she averted her stare as Hoseok clomped over to her with his plastic slides slapping the paving stone patio, cocking his head to look at her inquiringly. 
“How did the scolding go? Tail between their legs? Not that Taehyung has much of a tail, in the first place,” he asked dryly, the expanse of his dewy golden skin exposed by a flimsy muscle tee (that he must have picked up at the mall) catching sunlight and dazzling her. 
“Foxy,” Yoongi’s tone had a warning edge to it, his hand finally retreating from Y/N’s waist as he pulled the slider door back open, a rush of cool air flooding out into the patio space. “Shut it, already.”
“Yoongi, honey, it’s alright… everyone deserves to be filled in,” Y/N insisted, motioning for both him and Hoseok to head into the house before her, Yoongi’s tail going ramrod straight at the sound of his name being called. “Everything went smoothly in my opinion, Hoseok. I’m hoping that this incident won’t be repeated, I can’t bear the thought of seeing any of you hurt like that again.”
“You’re being mushy, again, silly girl,” Yoongi chortled between words in front of her, Y/N noting that both Namjoon and Taehyung had vacated the kitchen. 
Muttering under her breath over Yoongi’s incessant need to poke fun at her, she shut the door behind Seokjin, who was smiling at her so kindly that she thought she’d fall over at the way his full lips tugged into the saccharine shape. It was difficult to grasp just how breathtakingly beautiful Seokjin truly was without even trying, donning such a simple outfit and nearly dripping with sweat. She had to tear her eyes from him promptly in order not to dwell on that fact for too long. 
“Yeah, yeah, okay, so I’m a sap, whatever! Anyways, thank you guys for everything last night… helping with the cleanup after the cookout, intervening during the incident– all of it,” Y/N passed a forearm over her dewy forehead, mind on peeling wallpaper off of the second floor hallways– when she was upstairs earlier, she realized the paper had pulled from the walls in large sheets due to the recent heatwave, even with the new AC system pumping through the house. 
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re overly forgiving?” Hoseok poked Y/N in the shoulder as he leaned over the island they had congregated at, a devilish grin revealing his sharpened incisors. “No, wait. Alice said you’re ‘known to be too trusting’, if I remember her words correctly from that phone call you had last week.”
“H-hoseok!” Y/N squeaked, her face coloring with mortification. Simply shrugging, Hoseok traced patterns into the granite of the island countertop, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “Al–”
“Hoseok, didn’t you want to show me how to use the sauna? Quit the wiseass act, for once,” Seokjin vocalized abruptly, his fingertip and thumb tugging at Hoseok’s russet ear sharply. At the contact, Hoseok braced himself on the granite with a swiftly masked dark grimace, springing into action. 
“You’re lost without me, Jinnie,” Hoseok choked, his hands trying to grasp at Seokjin’s tail as the jaguar hybrid lured him out of the kitchen and in the direction to the basement. “Hey! Where’d you learn the word ‘wiseass’, anyway? I didn’t teach you that!”
As Hoseok’s voice faded, Y/N was left staring at Yoongi’s silhouette illuminated by the fridge light as he rummaged around in the drawers, his ears fluttering with each subtle move she made rounding the counter as she reached his side. The leopard hybrid was silent until he happened upon what he was looking for; sending a smirk over his shoulder at Y/N. 
“Here, have a drink. Hot out there, huh?” Yoongi tossed Y/N a bottle of electrolyte water, which she miraculously caught mid-air. Uncapping it, she took several greedy swigs, narrowing her eyes at the leopard hybrid’s smug expression. 
“You know? You’re a real wiseass yourself, Yoongi,” Y/N accused, just about fed up with his borderline flirtatious banter. “Come on, let’s watch a movie or something… I’ll put on something boring, so you can take a nap. You’ve been up pretty much all night, regardless of what you told me this morning.”
Yoongi watched her carefully as she finished her drink, even allowing her to tow him along to the parlor entrance from the kitchen with her hand wrapped around his dainty wrist. Supposing she could save the wallpaper-peeling endeavor for the next day, perhaps when it wasn’t so hot, she decided to spend some personal time with the hybrids after the chaotic day before, Y/N felt Yoongi’s tail occasionally curl around the back of her knee as she dragged him to the parlor. She was pleased to discover Jimin occupying the room already, freshly showered and perky, poised in the leather recliner as they entered the room, a Star Wars movie playing on cable. It was clear that Jimin didn’t know how to fully operate the TV and remote control yet; distinct confusion painted all over his features. 
“Jimin, sweetheart, want to watch something else? If this isn’t up your alley, let’s change it!” Y/N declared, swiping the remote from the coffee table once situating a limp Yoongi against one of the couch armrests. The leopard hybrid was pretty much half asleep by the time she had towed him into the parlor room, much to her delight– he was adorable when he was sleepy. 
“Ah, I hate to be a bother, Y/N,” Jimin murmured, barely above a whisper to accommodate Yoongi’s clear drowsiness. His sandy ears remained alert, his expression clear, leading Y/N to believe he may have gotten a decent night’s sleep even after the events of the previous night.  
“Shh, Jimin, you’ll never be a bother,” Y/N assured speedily, flicking through her digital movie stash in search of something that may intrigue the coyote hybrid; and after a few moments she spotted something that could potentially spark his interest (not to mention, potentially bore Yoongi to unconsciousness). “Oh! I think you might enjoy this– Casablanca. Old Hollywood, with its charms and all!”
Jimin leaned forward on his seat, eager butterscotch eyes roaming over the film’s description. She had kept in mind his taste in literature– Joan Didion’s ode to some of the gripes of Hollywood in Play It as It Lays– and ran with it. While the film wasn’t necessarily similar to the book he had brought with him from Montana, it was Old Hollywood, and Jimin struck her as someone who preferred a classic to a flashy space movie. As per usual, Jimin’s emotions were easy to read, and he was obviously curious. 
“Looks entertaining, Y/N. I’ll gladly watch it with you,” Jimin shot her his award-winning smile, Y/N hardly able to press play with the reception of the gesture. The added fact that he had finally dropped the “Miss” from her name had her heart racing, to boot.
The film began to roll fuzzily on the flatscreen, furthering Yoongi’s relaxation into the couch cushions. Y/N took it upon herself to spread a knitted throw over the leopard hybrid, hoping that the action would convey her deep gratitude for talking to Taehyung the night before. Whatever he had said, clearly it had worked some magic in calming the Kodiak hybrid down. 
It was incredibly peaceful; enjoying an old movie, with a drowsy Yoongi several inches away from her on the couch, and Jimin’s insightful commentary on the film itself every once and a while. Staying with the two of them for the time being, Y/N felt her stress surrounding the others, the house renovations, and the possibility of additional physical fights between the hybrids melt away. 
Yoongi began to stir in his drowsy state beside her, low rumbling purrs coming from his chest as he maneuvered himself closer to Y/N. Unceremoniously, Yoongi curled onto his side and dropped his body down heavily, his head landing in Y/N’s lap as he pulled the blanket closer around himself. Jolting in surprise, Y/N let out an amused snort in response, Yoongi’s ear fluttering sluggishly with his eyes shut. Glancing at Jimin sideways, the coyote hybrid thoroughly invested in the film and seemingly paying no mind to her nor Yoongi, Y/N began to gently card her fingers through Yoongi’s hair, the inky strands slipping through her fingers like rivulets of water.
 A deep, satisfied sigh deflated his chest slowly and rounded out in a purr, apparently enjoying the sensation, Y/N tucking a lock behind the shell of his human ear and stroking the long strands by the nape of his neck. Ever since Yoongi had scented her, he had grown increasingly clingy and almost affectionate, which was something she didn’t entirely mind at all, if she was being honest with herself. It was almost like in another life, or in another existence entirely, she and Yoongi had been in this position before, had brushed each other’s lives in some way. 
Continuing to fiddle with the leopard hybrid’s hair while he fell into a deep sleep on her lap, Y/N returned her attention back to the film and the occasional exchanged comments with Jimin. She was able to fish her phone out of her pocket without disturbing Yoongi, filling an online shopping cart with seven different guidebooks for each hybrid she had adopted. 
Y/N had the feeling that she’d have extra time to read the books while she was at work the following week, considering foot traffic would be light with the end of the summer season. Not to mention, she wasn’t giving tarot or psychic readings, so she knew that there would be a few hours where she’d have nothing to do but sit on a stool behind the counter– in her mind, a good way to spend it would be educating herself on her hybrids. Once the order was placed, she relaxed deeper into the couch, lightly massaging Yoongi’s scalp as the movie rolled on. 
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The rest of Saturday passed slowly like honey dripping from a wooden dipper; consisting of lazy movie marathons with Jimin, napping Yoongi, and later Hoseok and Seokjin– all while trying to beat the heat with popsicles, and ordering sushi for dinner instead of having to cook. Booze began to flow around 5 o’clock, Hoseok making some kind of tequila concoction with crushed ice and lime for everyone, which finally roused Yoongi out of his sleep and off of Y/N’s lap, puffiness filling out his cheeks. Once he had moved off of her, she made her rounds to respective bedrooms, writing down sushi orders from Jeongguk (who had also just woken up from his nap with sleep wrinkles on his cheek), Namjoon, and Taehyung– the task akin to pulling teeth with the latter two. 
When the food arrived, by some miracle all seven hybrids joined her in the parlor to eat, even though Namjoon and Taehyung were carefully avoided by the others throughout the meal. The two that had fought took seats far from each other; Namjoon on the window seat a little ways away from the TV, Taehyung on a chair further back in the room by the entrance to the kitchen. Thankfully, not a single word was uttered by anyone surrounding the fight or the presence of the Kodiak and wolf hybrids, everyone’s full attention on the continuation of the New Girl binge they were in the middle of. 
The only thing that seemed a little off to Y/N was Hoseok’s behavior, even though he tried his best to put on his most beguiling smile as he mixed up cocktails, he seemed on edge compared to earlier on in the day. Most interestingly, Y/N could tell it wasn’t due to Namjoon’s presence for once, as the fox hybrid appeared less frightened and more agitated, so she kept a particular eye on him as he absently picked his way through a California roll. He didn’t even poke fun at Seokjin like he normally did, even when the jaguar hybrid had opened up a soy sauce packet in a way that had it exploding all over the front of his tee shirt, deepening her concern. 
After a couple of hours of watching the show and snacking on the Japanese takeout, Hoseok abruptly excused himself, making a beeline for the basement. Frowning, Y/N looked to Seokjin, who had been sitting on the floor in front of her feet, his head tilted backwards to make eye contact with her. 
“What’s up with him? Do you know?” Y/N whispered into Seokjin’s nearest rounded ear, which twitched rapidly at the action, the jaguar hybrid’s eyes narrowing in the direction of the hallway to the foyer and basement.
“Yeah, I have a hunch. Maybe you should check on him,” a slight knowing edge was mingling with Seokjin’s melodic tone, causing Y/N to ease herself off of the couch. Tequila was fuzzying the edges of her sight, but she was still able to step her way around Seokjin after giving him an appreciative hair ruffle, ambling in the direction of the basement. 
Deep down in her gut, Y/N had a minute clue as to what Seokjin was alluding to when she had questioned him. Hoseok was one of the last to scent her, along with Jimin, both of whom she was monitoring subtly for any symptoms of refraining from doing so. Hoseok’s fidgety, strange conduct during dinner certainly strengthened her suspicions, though it was his particular clingy mannerisms in fox form earlier in the day that had set off certain alarm bells in her head. 
Still hearing quiet mumbling mingling with TV audio as she wrenched open the door to the basement, Y/N thought it best to shut it behind her once she was descending the steps and if her suspicions were confirmed. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to hybrid scenting rituals, anticipation flooding through her bloodstream as she tiptoed down the stairs. 
The metal sound of dumbbells clanking together bounced around the bare acoustics of the basement almost immediately once Y/N reached the bottom step. It was a pipe dream to believe Hoseok had gotten true rest since the night before the cookout considering this wolf phobia, the excess of exercise Hoseok was performing was indicative of something deeper, clearly. 
Coming into view of the gym space thanks to the mirrored wall, Y/N caught Hoseok performing aggressive overhead presses, his back turned to her and impressively heavy dumbbells grasped in his fists. Hoseok was nearly dripping with sweat, the amount of it not enough to chalk it up to his five minutes in the gym, his complexion in the mirror blotchy as he repeated a lifting motion over and over again. Still in his dampened muscle tee and sweat shorts, Hoseok’s chest heaved as he exercised, even though he knew she was standing behind him. She could tell by the way his posture locked up, his tail grew rigid, and his nostrils began to flare. 
“Hoseok,” Y/N began, the fox hybrid promptly ignoring her and continuing his reps with renewed vigor. “Hoseok, stop. You’re gonna strain a muscle, you’ve been active all day.”
Y/N laced her words with heavy implication, knowing that clever Hoseok would undoubtedly catch onto the unsaid. Still, he refused to put down the dumbbells, staring at his own reflection in the mirror stormily. Hissing, Y/N marched up to his side, glaring at the fox hybrid’s stubborn side profile, tangible waves of body heat coming off of him like a furnace. Wondering why Hoseok was so reluctant to scent her, his attempts to abstain from the act so painfully apparent it puzzled Y/N to no end. Hoseok was one of the hybrids who warmed up to her the quickest, and usually didn’t shy away from physical contact, so the behavior was bizarre to say the least. 
“Hoseok. Are you ignoring me? You look like you’re going to pass out, would you please put the weights down and look at me?” Y/N raised her voice a decibel or two, Hoseok’s jaw clenching and unclenching as a prominent vein appeared on his forehead. “Fucksake, Hoseok–”
Growling, Hoseok finally slammed the dumbbells back onto the metal rack, spinning on his heel to stare down at her with a cocked eyebrow. There was danger written all across his features, in a way that Y/N had never considered Hoseok could possess, sending a shiver down her spine as his darkened eyes swept over her face. His chest was heaving, taking two big steps towards Y/N, making her back up in consequence as her heart began to race. 
“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to swear at you, I was just worried because you look so–”
“Look so what?” Hoseok cut her off sharply, backing her up until her ass made contact with the seat of the stationary bike, and there was nowhere left to go. “What do I look like?”
“Um! You’re just flushed, you don’t look bad or anything, I mean– I don’t think you could look bad–” 
“You’re always talking yourself into a corner, darling, and look where it's gotten you this time,” Hoseok interrupted her babbling again, using one of his sneaker-clad feet to lightly kick between her ankles and widen her stance, Y/N slamming her mouth shut in response. “I’ll stop you there, before you dig yourself into a deeper hole.”
“You– and you’re always t-teasing me!” Y/N accused weakly, her words getting caught in her throat when Hoseok wrapped his hands around her waist firmly enough to have her wincing, finding herself plucked off of the floor and being placed onto the seat of the stationary bike. 
Now eye-level with the fox hybrid, she gawked at him with wide, startled eyes, following the bead of sweat running down his temple and coasting down the side of his face. His hands remained on her waist, with enough force to likely bruise, Hoseok more worked up than she thought. Distantly, she cursed Seokjin inwardly for not giving her more of a warning surrounding the fox hybrid’s state, but as Hoseok’s tongue peaked out from between his lips to dampen the flesh, most coherent thought fled from her mind. 
“I’ve told you before. You make it too easy for me,” Hoseok replied, his usually bright tone replaced with something darker, more predatory. 
All Y/N could do was stare at him, effectively pinned to the seat with his vice like grip on her waist and his dangerously brilliant eyes boring into her like he could see through her skin. They swept over her throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he let go of one side of her waist to drag a fingertip up and over her clavicle, tapping his index finger against her thrumming pulse. Shuddering, her eyelids slipped shut as her breath began to come out in small pants, Hoseok chuckling lowly at her reaction to his touch. She felt pathetic, basically turned into a puddle already and he hadn’t even gotten close enough to bite her. 
His index finger trailed upwards to crook under her chin, his thumb resting beneath her lower lip, tilting her head up and to the side a bit. A small groan spilled from Hoseok’s lips as her throat became more exposed to him, her scent undoubtedly filling his senses powerfully. Squirming in her seat, Hoseok’s grip on her waist loosened, the hand traveling to the back of her head as he took a fistful of her hair. He wasn’t being gentle by any means, his fingernails digging into her scalp as he threaded strands through his digits, pulling her closer to his face as she finally opened her eyes. 
Hoseok was but a breath away from her, Y/N finding herself focusing on the freckle kissing his cupid’s bow, his eyes lidded as he stepped impossibly closer, slotting himself between her legs and dipping his face down to nuzzle at her jawbone. Eyes rolling back in her skull at the sensation of his lips ghosting over her jaw, Y/N bit back a whimper, her hands finding purchase on his bare biceps, his skin slightly slippery and feverish with perspiration. 
“Hoseok…” Y/N whispered, sensing that he was stalling a little bit, taking deep breaths through his nose while tucked into the crook of her neck as his ears twitched at the sound of his name. 
“What, are you eager or something?” Hoseok returned coolly, lifting his head to speak into her ear directly. His breath ghosting over the sensitive area had her practically clawing at his skin. “Patience, my darling.”
The dulcet tone of his voice caused the whimper to finally tumble from her lips, Hoseok grinning against the shell of her ear before she felt the sharpened points of his incisors nip roughly at her earlobe. The action had her pressing closer to Hoseok, her chest flush with his as her hands fumbled to the back of his tank top, gripping the dampened fabric as an anchor. With the implications of the fox hybrid’s words, she no longer held any doubts that all of the hybrids were aware just how much she enjoyed when they scented her, the realization both humiliating and exciting once it dawned on her. 
“Oh? Are you embarrassed? Worried that the others upstairs will hear you?” Hoseok murmured into her ear, hand dropping from her jaw to press against her lower back, the force of the touch making her spine arch harder into Hoseok’s chest. “Doesn’t matter anyways…”
Feeling Hoseok’s heart racing as he pressed himself against her, Y/N began to shake in response to his tone and shamelessness, using her thighs to squeeze Hoseok’s hips in an attempt to get him to hurry up and bite her already. Sighing deeply, Hoseok nudged the tip of his nose against the corner of her jaw, his soft lips finding the tender spot beneath her earlobe and planting a featherlight kiss there. Y/N knew then, Hoseok was unabashedly trying to rile her up; this was a new side to the fox hybrid Y/N had no idea about– rough, wild, domineering.
The kiss was immediately followed by the fox hybrid finally baring his teeth and sinking them into the same spot he planted his lips seconds prior, the razor-sharp sting of his incisors tearing into her flesh with borderline reckless abandon. Too startled by the blinding pain to make a noise, Y/N’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream as she felt thin streams of her blood running down the side of her neck. Growing entirely limp, her body weakly slumped against Hoseok’s firm chest, the pain of the bite fading more slowly than any of her previous ones, perhaps because of the harsh way he had torn into the skin, his hand on the back of her head still yanking at strands with force. 
“A-ah, ouch, Hos-seok,” Y/N sobbed lightly, gliding shaky hands up to Hoseok’s shoulders for purchase, the fox hybrid groaning softly into her neck as her fingernails clawed at his deltoids. As the throbbing began to slip away, the fogginess of pleasure that came with the bite overtook everything– the combination of the two sensations almost too much to bear. 
Pulling his teeth from the wound, Hoseok adjusted her in his arms by using a forearm to curl securely around her lower back, hand tangled in her hair moving to stroke the back of her head more tenderly. A couple of involuntary tears slipped down her cheeks in response to the overwhelming sensations washing over her; eyes rolling to the back of her skull when she felt Hoseok drag his tongue in fat strips from the base of her clavicle to just over the bite by the curve of her jaw, collecting the thin trails of blood that had dribbled from the wound.
Y/N was hardly aware of the low whines she was letting out as Hoseok held her more gently, paying almost reverent attention to cleaning up the area he had bloodied. He was supporting most of her weight in the process, Y/N winding her arms around his neck loosely to keep herself somewhat upright as he once again pressed a soft kiss over his mark. She blearily eyed the crescent-shaped divots she had created on the skin of his shoulder, a delirious scenting-addled brain remarking that she, too, had claimed him in some way. While Hoseok had been quite rough with her, she didn’t really mind, especially because all tension had drained from his body since, and he was now holding her so tightly. 
“Sorry about the pain, I think I picked a tender spot…” Hoseok suddenly murmured into her neck, moving his arms so he could hug around her waist, hooking his chin over her shoulder. Finally, she could drop her head down into the crook of his neck, still feeling the loopiness of the bite. “I waited too long, lost control a little bit.”
Hoseok drew soothing patterns on her back as he embraced her, warmth spreading through Y/N as she nuzzled into him. His scent was comforting, and she was honestly relieved that he had finally calmed down from his incessant bouncing off the walls, but all at once she was exhausted. 
“Do you need to sit here for a bit? Or do you want me to carry you upstairs?” Hoseok spoke again after several beats, piece by piece of Y/N’s intelligence coming back to her as the fog cleared from her head. “We should probably get you a glass of water, you bled a bit and it's so hot outside… I’m surprised Yoongi or Jin haven’t come down here to fight me yet.”
“No more fighting,” Y/N weakly choked into Hoseok’s warm skin, lifting her heavy head up a few inches to speak more coherently. “I s-swear, you’re all going to be the death of me, b-between the scenting, teasing, and the angst.”
Hoseok heartily laughed at her stuttered sentiments, pressing his fingertips into the tender muscles of her back as he held her. She realized she never answered Hoseok’s first two inquiries, blinking kittenishly at the fox hybrid as he studied her face calmly. The warmth and friendliness to his features had returned. 
“You don’t have to carry me, we can just go up together. I should bid everyone goodnight, anyways– it’s about time I attempt to get my sleep schedule under control before I head off to work Monday morning,” Y/N managed to articulate clearly, secretly praying for a peaceful Sunday before driving Seokjin and Namjoon to the city for the book club and then herself to a nearby suburb to pick up her shift at Judy’s metaphysical shop come Monday. 
Making a move to stand up from her seat on the exercise bike, Hoseok inched away as she lowered her feet to the ground, his proximity still quite staggering as she tried to un-pin herself from his body against the bike. As he processed her words and movements, Hoseok shook out his limbs, stepping aside so she could move freely once more. Though, she couldn’t get very far without his sturdy hand slipping against her’s, intertwining his fingers securely around her own and their arms interlocking in an almost serpentine way. 
“I forgot about you starting work on Monday,” Hoseok remarked, and Y/N could have sworn she caught Hoseok faintly pouting, but nonchalantly let him lead her still slightly slackened body to the stairs. 
His hand clasped in her’s was rough, but warm and steady. He parted with her momentarily and dashed into his bedroom, softly ordering her to put on his hoodie as she quivered by the stairs waiting for him. With her brain less rational than usual, she slipped the woodsy smelling hoodie over her head without a word, Hoseok’s hand entangling with her’s once more as soon as it was draped over her body. 
 “Jinnie told me he’s going with you, you’re dropping him off at the library with the godforsaken wolf.”
Sucking in a lungful of careful breath, Y/N nodded to the best of her ability as the pair of them clambered up the stairs at snail's speed. With Hoseok’s immediate drop back into his sharp-witted persona, Y/N was left a touch whiplashed. How had he gone from dangerous desperation to happy-go-lucky in a matter of minutes? “I’m afraid my mother has roped Seokjin into the extracurricular, if you will. Though, you’re all more than welcome to join the bookclub… my mom would love it of course, and it gives you a chance to get out of the house,” Y/N noted, slightly lamenting the fact that her hybrids didn’t have many opportunities to engage with much of society due to their limited rights. 
“I’m not really into books in that way. Don’t get me wrong, I read, but I can’t picture myself dissecting thematic overtones in the same room as that wolf. Besides, I’d rather bother Yoongi all day. He’s funny when he’s agitated,” Hoseok held the door to the basement open for her while he responded, tugging her hand as they both cleared the last step into the foyer. 
“Well, just don’t push his buttons too much. He’s skilled with a knife, you know,” Y/N giggled, nudging his hip with her own as they made it into the kitchen. With a snort, Hoseok released her hand, retrieving a pitcher of water from the fridge and pouring her and himself a large glass. “I’m going to scour the internet, see if I can find other clubs or activities for hybrids in the area, maybe there will be something that interests you. That way you don’t have to be cooped up here all the time!” “Ha, like a hybrid summer camp or something?” Hoseok pondered, a playful lilt to his voice. Contrary to his words, Y/N knew Hoseok was interested in pursuing new hobbies, he’d had let it slip during their chat earlier that morning. 
“No, not a summer camp, silly. There’s a recreation center not so far from here, they might have sports teams or art classes…” 
“You should see if there’s a ghostbusting club for the elk,” Hoseok slid Y/N her glass of water, a smug look on his face as he registered the unmoved reaction from her towards his jab at Jeongguk. “Come on, it was a little funny. Don’t tell me you’re already smitten with him.”
“Hoseok, I swear,” Y/N groaned, taking her water and moving towards the entrance to the parlor. She could catch a glimpse of Taehyung from where she was standing, still curled up in the chair by the window and fiddling with the hem of his blue flannel as he watched the TV from afar. “One of these days you’ll meet your match, and then you’ll have to hold your tongue.” 
The fox hybrid’s melodic chuckles were dampened in volume compared to the chatter and volume from the television, the rest of the hybrids still in their spots around the parlor as if she and Hoseok never even left. She wanted to bid them all a good night, hoping to get into bed before 11 PM, so she began with Taehyung, reaching into her pocket for the roll of gauze she had tucked in there earlier to change out the old bandages. Hoseok returned to his seat on the floor beside Seokjin, carefully avoiding the Kodiak hybrid as Y/N knelt before him to replace the gauze. 
“Can I see your hands?” Y/N murmured quietly, holding her palms out expectantly as she snagged Taehyung’s attention. 
His garnet eyes softened as he stared at her knelt form on the floor, leaning forward and immediately resting his large hands in hers, the movement carrying his strong sandalwood scent with it. The weight of his hands was solid and unyielding, Y/N immediately removing the old bandages from that morning and inspecting his knuckles. To her great surprise, the wounds already appeared to be half-healed, mostly scabbed over and bruised at that point. Still, she preferred to wrap them so he wouldn’t snag the scabs on his sheets when he went to bed, swiftly wrapping his hands up and giving his fingers a light squeeze. 
“Alright, you should be good after this! I forgot you guys heal so quickly,” Y/N grinned at Taehyung, appearing quite thoughtful as she began to pull her hands away. “I wanted to say goodnight, too. I have to start heading to bed a bit earlier so I can get up for work on Monday without an issue.”
Taehyung’s ears fluttered, eyes taking in every inch of her face as she spoke. He had an air of unease about him, Y/N figuring that he was still thinking about the events that had unfolded the night before, possibly trying to scan her face for any hint of fear towards him that might still be lingering. Really, she wasn’t afraid of Taehyung, even after learning the dark secret he had been keeping from everybody and the fist fight that occurred between him and Namjoon. Deep down, she knew that Taehyung had probably agonized over harboring a secret so damning, and it wasn’t like he plotted the murder… he had been metaphorically cornered, forced to choose between life and death. Whether that was naive or not, that was yet to be seen. 
“Goodnight,” Taehyung’s deep, mellow voice drew her out of her thoughts, her eyes locking with his once more and away from his wrapped knuckles. “I hope you sleep well…”
He was much, much closer to her face now, one of his hands moving out of her grip to cup her cheek swiftly before getting nearer than ever, planting a firm, resolute kiss between her eyebrows, the action so unexpected it had Y/N’s jaw hanging loosely. Blinking stupidly, Y/N put a hand over the spot his warm lips had stamped affection over, slowly rising to her feet. Taehyung’s eyes were focused back onto the television, leaving her to trudge away in a bit of a stun. 
Snapping out of it the best she could, she made her rounds to each hybrid clumped on and around the couch, Seokjin making grabby hands for one of her palms and squeezing it tight with a disappointed look in his eyes that she was retiring early. Jeongguk grunted in response to her bidding goodnight with blood sliding down his cheekbones from his shedding velvet, smirking up at her as she bashfully recovered from both Yoongi and Hoseok hooking arms around her legs from the floor in a sort of joint-hug. Man, they were all getting clingy– and her poor heart could hardly take it. After smoothing her hand over Jimin’s shoulder and exchanging a set of ‘sweet dreams’, Y/N eyed the window seat Namjoon had been sitting on, now vacated. Perhaps he decided to hit the hay early, too, but she still wished that he’d said goodnight to her. 
She exited the parlor, grinning as she heard the TV decrease in volume as Hoseok turned it down a little, making her way through the dimly lit foyer with her cheeks warm. Hardly paying attention to where she was going, her thoughts surrounding her regret that she’d have to sleep alone in her bed that night, Y/N let out a squeak once she realized there was somebody standing in the hallway leading to her bedroom. 
Shifting awkwardly from one foot to another, hands stuffed into the pockets of his gray sweatpants, was Namjoon, his ears flickering at the sounds of her footsteps creaking against the rickety floorboards. In the moonlight, his eyes still glowed amber, and his presence had a shiver dancing along the ridges of her spine. Approaching slowly, Y/N prayed he didn’t sense her minor apprehension in doing so. 
“Can I have a word?” Namjoon broke the heavy silence as soon as she got close enough for him to murmur, Y/N nodding slightly as moonbeams from the skylight made the silver strands of his hair practically sparkle. He was almost otherworldly. “About last night…”
“Oh, uh, is something still on your mind? I suppose I haven’t really talked to you much today…” Y/N managed to choke out, dreading what he was about to bring up. There was a chance he’d be looking to argue with her again, which was the last thing she wanted on her mind before she went to bed. 
“It’s not about the fight,” Namjoon quickly interjected, the lightest peachy flush dusting the tips of his human ears as he looked away from her. Temporarily relieved, she waited for him to get to the point, composing his face into a more serious expression while he assembled his thoughts. “It’s about your mother.”
Blinking, Y/N felt ice flood through her veins, wondering just how many times Namjoon could take her completely by surprise like that. Apparently sensing the dread coursing through her, Namjoon pulled his eyebrows together, stepping closer into her proximity. His scent, a manly musk mingling with floral honey, infiltrated her senses with the movement, and oddly brought her comfort immediately. 
“Ah, don’t worry, please. I pulled a few Tarot cards from her last night, and wanted to discuss it with you… before everything else went down,” Namjoon remarked quietly, tilting his head down in an attempt to catch her eyes. 
Moving to bury her hands in Hoseok’s hoodie pocket, her fingers brushed the little roll of gauze within the fabric, avoiding eye contact with Namjoon cowardly. She still had to swap out his bandages. 
“Even when I told her not to do any more readings on you guys after Tae, she still did…” Y/N muttered, bitterness flooding her taste buds. “Did she tell you that you were going to die in seven days, or something?”
Namjoon seemed to choke on his intake of breath, Y/N finally meeting his eyes as she watched him try to mask the shocked amusement wash over him. 
“N-no, I should hope not!” Namjoon breathed, removing his hands from his pockets to rub at the bare skin of his arms, as if a chill washed over him. Cute. “Seriously, though. I need to talk to you, can you come in for a minute?”
Namjoon jerked his head backwards to his bedroom door, the room filled with dusty lamplight and smelling like essential oil floor cleaner. Chewing her lip, Y/N followed the wolf hybrid into the room. He shut the door almost completely behind her, clearing his throat and pointing to his desk chair. 
“Here, sit. I managed to take a few notes about what I pulled, before…” clearing his throat again, Namjoon ushered Y/N over to his chair, which she lowered herself onto while he leaned one hip against the desk to look down at her. “Anyways, take a look.”
The Magician - Apparently representing the querent; myself. Change in a situation or an environment needs to be brought about through a certain skill set (I?) possess… Spiritual development. Concentration is needed. 
The Eight of Cups - My interpretation of this is seeking out higher spiritual power with the risk of abandoning material or previous efforts or successes/abandoning what one already has. Turning your back on something important, forgetting someone or something…
The Nine of Swords - Impending disaster, unavoidable fate. Whatever the disaster may be, nothing can be moved past until it is dealt with. 
Namjoon’s handwriting, as beautiful as ever, curled across the weathered parchment in smudged indigo ink, the page littered in smaller notes she couldn’t quite read and a series of arrows and underlining. Another tiny clue into who Namjoon was fell into place in her mind– apparently, he knew enough about Tarot to grasp the meanings of each card, and she could feel him inspecting her from his perch on his desk as she looked over his notes. 
“So? What do you think?” Namjoon vocalized after a few moments, taking his notes from her gently. Y/N noticed the wrappings on his hands had some of his blood seeping through, making her frown. 
“Huh? Oh, you want my thoughts on the cards?” Namjoon nodded in response to her breathy inquiry, his bitten ear twitching as she scooted the desk chair closer to him, in order to get a better look at his notes once more. “I’m a bit rusty with Tarot, Namjoon.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure you remember more than you think you do,” Namjoon insisted eagerly, his desire for any kind of information from her etched across his features and laced in his tone. Humming, Y/N scanned the notes again– she might as well give it her best shot, for his sake. 
“Hmm. So… I think you’re correct in guessing that you’re represented by The Magician, part of the Major Arcana. The other two cards you pulled aren’t particularly positive cards, especially The Nine of Swords. The suit of Swords typically indicates a sort of intellectual challenge to overcome, whereas the suit of Cups alludes to a spiritual challenge. I’m not sure what your beliefs are, Namjoon, but to me… these cards suggest that there is some sort of spiritual trial you’ll have to face, something that you’ll have to use your knowledge and experience to overcome,” Y/N began deliberately, eyes on the ceiling as if to summon some of her Tarot knowledge back into her brain.
 “This obstacle you’ll have to face might bring you a great deal of anxiety, and you may become so wrapped up in fixing it that you forget to check in with reality from time to time. The fact that you came up as The Magician is a comfort; whatever you may face I’m confident you’ll be able to handle it and come away with even more experience than ever before,” She concluded, feeling a little badly she couldn’t give a better analysis. Sixteen-year-old Y/N could have given him a thirty minute in-depth reading with enthusiasm. 
Namjoon seemed to be in deep concentration, lips pursed as he stared at the piece of parchment as if it was going to start speaking to him. A small, amused smile stretched across her face as she waited for her words to sink in, tapping her pointer finger on his knee in front of her to get his attention. It certainly did the job, Namjoon staring at her like she had grown a second head at once. Snorting, she fished the gauze out of Hoseok’s hoodie pocket, reaching out expectantly for his hands. 
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Namjoon muttered, though he put down the parchment and stretched out his hands either way. 
“Indulge me,” Y/N whispered, cradling his palm in front of her face so she could gingerly peel the soiled gauze off of his knuckles. He hissed, whether in response to the gauze sticking to his wounds or her words. 
His knuckles hadn’t quite scabbed over like Taehyung’s had yet, but Y/N supposed he took a few more harsh swings than the Kodiak hybrid had. Brushing her thumb over his skin tenderly, she held her breath as she re-wrapped his hands, waiting for him to say something, anything at all. 
“Did I provide you with any useful insight, or were those theories you’ve already considered?” Y/N finally prompted, placing his hands back down on his lap. This time, he seemed reluctant to lose contact with her, as his left ring finger dragged along her palm more slowly than it should have. 
“You’ve definitely confirmed a few things for me, thank you,” Namjoon replied, easing himself off of his desk and shaking out his tail he was sitting on. “I don’t know if I should tell you this, because I know you’re going to bed…”
Freezing her movements in rising from his desk chair, Y/N gawked at the wolf hybrid’s cryptic expression. What now?
“Well, now you have to tell me, or I won’t sleep a wink,” Y/N insisted, standing up to her full height and feeling Hoseok’s hoodie skimming her thighs as she straightened out. Stepping closer to him, she cocked her head, waiting for him to open his mouth and cut to the chase. 
“I’m not sure that Jeongguk and I were able to permanently banish that entity last week. I think, based on this reading, and some of the tension still lingering, it might try to come back,” Namjoon uttered softly, carefully scanning Y/N from head to toe as if to analyze her body language and reactions. 
Her shoulders sagged, not exactly taken aback by this revelation, because she, too, had entertained the idea. She still didn’t have any idea what kind of ritual the two of them had carried out to banish the entity in the first place, as she was totally unconscious throughout, and barely had the time to ask either of them about it amongst the chaos of the last week. There were the grounds to consider, where the Y/N had accidentally summoned the entity all those years ago in the first place– she highly doubted Namjoon nor Jeongguk had broken free from her side to cleanse the grounds that night. For all she knew, it could be lurking at the edges of the property, waiting for the right moment to gain entry into the home again. 
“Yeah, I was thinking that too, lately. I’m not sure what you two did to stave it off for this long, but it is likely that I’ll have to do some heavy-duty protection wards around the property and the house next weekend. I might even have to do a full-scale banishment, if that doesn’t work,” Y/N sighed roughly, twisting her hands in the soft material of the hoodie’s pocket.
“Can I help?” Namjoon blurted, his back straightening out in purpose, eyes widening fractionally. “You should enlist Jeongguk’s help, too. If we work together, the chances of successfully getting rid of it are higher.”
Stunned, Y/N felt her mouth dropping open, wondering if this was Namjoon’s way of making it up to her for the way he acted the previous night, especially considering Jeongguk was the one to break up the brawl and haul the wolf hybrid away and Namjoon was still willing to team up with him. Maybe, he saw it as his ‘spiritual challenge’ he must overcome, or maybe he was more interested in the paranormal than she originally thought. 
“You wanna help?” Y/N repeated meekly, Namjoon nodding once. “Alright, that’s a good idea– the three of us together can cover more ground quickly. When I go to work on Monday, I’ll pick up some things for the wards. If it comes to a full-scale banishment, we should wait for the next new moon in two weeks, just before your birthday.”
Namjoon froze, the constant sway of his silver tail even pausing, as pure astonishment washed over him. Cocking an eyebrow at his reaction, Y/N wondered if she said anything out of turn, or if he was re-thinking the whole ordeal now that she was discussing details. 
“How do you know when my birthday is?” Namjoon asked, his complexion turning quite pale and then quite pink. 
“What do you mean? It was on the clipboard at the shelter, and on the hybrid database I logged onto once I got your ID number from your official adoption certificate,” Y/N put her hands up as if she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Namjoon was so bizarre. 
“Oh,” was all he offered in response, again gaping at her like she had an extra head. 
“Anyways, we can discuss all of this some more tomorrow. Have you finished Wuthering Heights yet? I’m taking you and Seokjin to the library on Monday, don’t forget,” Y/N began to inch towards his door so she could head to bed. If she stayed any longer, she ran the risk of opening her big mouth and asking him about his favorite cake flavor, or a gift he had his eye on, and ruining her planned surprise of making all of the hybrid’s birthdays special in general. 
Mortification further radiated off of the wolf hybrid in tangible waves, evidently not finished with the book, as he frantically turned to his nightstand and fumbled for the book. He seemed to have about 70 pages left. Trying not to giggle at his endearing mannerisms while his guard was down, Y/N reached his door while he was distracted. 
“I’m heading to bed now, see you in the morning, okay? Don’t stay up too late reading,” Y/N called, giving him a little wave. Jerking his head up, Namjoon allowed the corner of his mouth to curl up shyly. 
“Goodnight, Y/N,” the wolf hybrid returned, his amber eyes trained on her and the sensation of it remaining long after she shut his door behind her.
Once settled under her quilt in her bedroom, Y/N tapped out some reminders on her phone in an attempt to extract one million floating tasks from her brain and trap them in written word. There was a grocery list from Yoongi, some things she wanted to pick up for Jimin at the hardware store, and a reminder to look for hybrid clubs and activities. Some stray ideas for Jeongguk and Namjoon’s separate birthday parties, a note to call Ben and the twins, as well as a small list of items to look for at Judy’s on Monday. 
She had never felt so busy in her life, even when she was working back-to-back shifts at the animal hospital, but she found that all of the things she had on her plate brought her excitement, rather than exhaustion and dread. Apart from, of course, the very real possibility that she’d have to deal with that nasty entity again. As she switched off her lamp and got cozy, she tried not to dwell on ghosts and demons, or the fact that the bed felt empty without Seokjin, and willed herself into what she prayed to be a sleep full of pleasant dreams.
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Sunday morning was rainy, gloomy, and the stifling heat was thankfully broken. Y/N hauled herself out of bed early to shower and pick out her outfit for work the next day. An alert on her phone told her that all of her hybrid guidebooks had been delivered and were waiting on the porch for her, so she sped out of her bedroom to collect them and stow them by her nightstand before any of the hybrids could notice they were there. It wasn’t like she didn’t want them to see the books, she just didn’t want to give them another reason to tease her about her lack of hybrid knowledge. 
Once the books were tucked away, she followed her nose to the kitchen with her laptop under her arm– a buttery, sweet smell floating through the house and making her mouth water. Most meals these days were completely taken care of by Yoongi, purely because he often beat her to the kitchen to do so before she could even lift a finger. Yoongi had told her not to worry about feeling guilty over him preparing meals for the rest of the house, as cooking was something he genuinely enjoyed, but she still felt odd about letting him shoulder the responsibility. 
Yoongi had prepared an almost comical stack of pancakes that he was consistently adding to a hot plate in one of the warm ovens, his long hair damp with his morning shower and tucked behind his ears. The counter was littered with sliced fruit, boats of maple syrups, sticks of butter and mixing bowls. The only other hybrid in the room was Jimin, who Y/N had noted preferred to rise early over the past week. He looked a bit hungover, nursing a rather large cup of coffee, cheek cradled in his palm and sandy ears drooping. Both hybrids perked up as soon as she waltzed into the room, Yoongi shuffling over to her with a mug containing coffee made to her precise preference. The realization that he had gotten the ratio of cream to sugar exactly right had a flush settling over her cheeks as soon as the drink washed over her taste buds. 
She sat next to Jimin, the coyote hybrid oh-so-subtly slouching closer to her on his barstool, and made small talk while they waited for some of the other hybrids to make their appearances. Setting up her laptop, she drummed her fingers against the keyboard, wondering which part of her to-do list she should tackle first. Jeongguk’s birthday was fast approaching, and a flash of panic struck through her when she considered there might not be much time left for her to order gifts and a cake for him. 
“Morning! Is there bacon?” Seokjin’s sweet voice had her eyes tearing away from the loading Best Buy home screen to seek out his face. 
He was in almost the exact same outfit as Yoongi, a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved thermal, but Seokjin’s was a cornflower blue and Yoongi’s was a deep wine color. Immediately, he widely smiled at Y/N, offering her an enthusiastic wave, to which she returned with a slight chuckle. 
“Haven’t made it yet,” Yoongi replied, flipping a pancake mid-air as if he was Gordon Ramsay or something. “I’ve been waiting for it to thaw, over by the sink. I’ll get to it.”
“Can I cook it?” Seokjin moved to the island, inspecting the limp package of uncooked bacon. Y/N exchanged a sideways glance with Jimin, who still managed to convey his amusement even though he really looked like he would rather eat mud than a piece of bacon Seokjin cooked. 
“Can you even cook? Do you know how to operate the stove?” Yoongi lifted an eyebrow at the jaguar hybrid, Seokjin’s ears fluttering in annoyance. 
“I’ve watched you enough times to gather the mechanics, thank you,” Seokjin grumbled, Y/N desperately trying to swallow down laughter with Jimin practically shaking next to her. “And on my phone, too. When I can’t sleep, I watch cooking videos, I want to learn.”
Y/N straightened out at this, tilting her head to look at Seokjin while his back was turned to her. There were instances where he couldn’t sleep? Was she selfish to lament the fact that he hadn’t disclosed that to her previously? Distracting herself from dwelling on that, she half-listened to Yoongi slide a skillet onto the stove for Seokjin and scrolled around on her laptop for a video camera for Jeongguk. Aware of Jimin looking over her shoulder, she finally came across a reasonably priced one with all of the specs she was hoping for– full spectrum, night vision, easily hand held. With the camera and a protection plan in her virtual cart, she clicked the option for in-store pick up, so she could drop by later that day on her grocery and hardware store run. 
As if summoned as soon as the order went through, the elk hybrid traipsed through the entrance of the kitchen in his black hoodie, fiddling with a couple of his hoop earrings as he scanned the room. To Y/N’s surprise, he promptly planted himself on the other empty barstool beside her, and thankfully she had already closed out of the Best Buy website. 
“Good morning,” Y/N greeted, feeling somewhat shy with his onyx stare boring through her. His eyes flickered to her laptop screen, where she was idly viewing the gallery of a local bakery, mumbling the same greeting back. 
The fatty scent of bacon began to infest the room, Seokjin diligently turning pieces over in the sizzling pan and looking deeply satisfied with himself. He appeared to be doing quite well under Yoongi’s watchful eye, even though occasionally an acrid smell would fill the kitchen when he’d burn an odd piece. Slowly, the remaining hybrids found their ways to the kitchen; Hoseok grumpily complaining about the early hour still in his pajamas, Namjoon dressed smartly in a crisp linen button down and slacks, and lastly Taehyung, who entered the room so silently and unacknowledged by the others Y/N didn’t even realize he was sitting at the breakfast nook until she turned around at the sound of the rain increasing in density against the window. He gave her a half-smile, the red flannel he had on picking up the peculiar color of his eyes, Y/N giving him her brightest grin as if to make up for the fact that everyone else was ignoring him. 
She turned over the ways in her mind that she could find out what kind of cake Jeongguk would want for his birthday, and all of them would give away the surprise and her intentions. Chewing on her lip, she felt Jimin shift closer to her yet again, his body heat quite comforting as his arm brushed hers. Shutting her laptop once Yoongi declared everything was ready, Y/N saw that he and Seokjin had set up a buffet style pancake bar on the island, the jaguar hybrid appeared gleeful and proud of himself, which had her practically melting when she got up to get a plate. 
Namjoon was in front of her in the sort of clumpy line they had all formed to fix up their breakfast plates, Y/N spooned stewed berries onto her pancakes as she decided to slyly get the information she needed, in probably the most roundabout way possible. She did seem to like making things harder for herself. 
“There’s this new bakery in town I want to try out, and I’ve been thinking about ordering cupcakes or something. I’d like to get you all your favorites if you tell me what they are,” Y/N announced nonchalantly, settling back into her seat and cringing somewhat as she basically heard crickets. 
Getting the hybrids to tell her what they wanted when it came to food was always like pulling teeth, and she chalked it up to the fact that they likely didn’t have many opportunities to select things of their own preference. It saddened her, but now that they were with her, they really didn’t have to hesitate so much. She wished she could say that in so many words, but she didn’t want to risk hitting any raw nerves. Predictably, Hoseok responded first as soon as the shock cleared from his face. 
“Uh… I don’t really know, all cakes are good cakes!” He began– not off to a good start. “I guess I like vanilla the best if I were to choose, simple but classic.”
“I liked those lavender cupcakes from the cookout, the ones your friend Ben brought,” Seokjin volunteered, a thick layer of maple syrup coating his voluminous lips. Nodding, Y/N added the two answers to a notes document on her phone for when their birthdays rolled around. 
After what felt like forever, she was able to pry out an answer from all of them, and she had finished her stack of pancakes long before the list was complete. Strawberry cake for Taehyung, Yoongi liked chocolate with raspberry filling, Namjoon gave a vague answer with just ‘chocolate’, and Jimin had classic tastes like Hoseok with simple vanilla. Of course, Jeongguk was the last to answer, too busy staring at his phone and snacking on the burnt pieces of bacon Seokjin had set aside separately. 
“Jeongguk? How about you?” Y/N nudged his shoulder with her own, and ironically he genuinely looked like a deer in the headlights, antlers and all. 
“Huh? Oh, cake… I don’t like cake that much. I guess I enjoy cheesecake, but that's more of a pie, if people were being more honest with themselves,” Jeongguk finally responded while absently using his napkin to blot some blood away from his face that had been dripping from his antlers into his hairline, looking back down at his phone. Interesting!
“Cheesecake? Gross. Also, have you ever even seen an actual pie? Because they don’t look like a cheesecake,” Hoseok accused, his russet ears turned backwards as if his honor had been insulted. 
“You’re an agitating motherfucker,” Jeongguk remarked simply, getting up to rinse his plate and stick it in the dishwasher. Yoongi began to shake with laughter, especially upon catching a glimpse of Hoseok’s visage cloaked with surprise. 
Once the kitchen was cleaned up, the job going by quickly with so many hands, Y/N decided it was as good of a time as any to head out on her errands so she could spend the rainy evening cozy in the parlor. Before everyone vacated the kitchen, she notified the hybrids that she was heading out. 
“Do any of you want to come with me? It’s pretty shitty weather out there, so I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to tag along. I just have to go to a few stores,” Y/N narrowed her eyes at the pelting rain outside of the kitchen window, hoping the grocery store wouldn’t give her paper bags. 
Minutes later, Y/N– considerably damp from running to her car like a crazy person, found herself in the driver’s seat, Yoongi beside her, Seokjin and Taehyung in the back. The rest of the hybrids elected to stay at home, and Y/N was grateful Jeongguk hadn’t joined her so she could pick up his camera without raising suspicion. 
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“Jimin looked rough this morning,” Yoongi remarked offhandedly, his tail swishing languidly behind him as he pushed a half-full grocery cart down the bread aisle. 
Nudging him softly in the ribs, Y/N tossed two packages of hamburger buns into the cart while Yoongi bared his pointed incisors at her. The force of the nudge wasn’t enough to cause any pain, and she knew Yoongi was just trying to tease her again– but regardless, she was thinking the same too. The coyote hybrid slunk away to his bedroom shortly after breakfast, claiming he wanted to take a shower and read, looking less sparkly than he usually did. Maybe tequila was not his friend. 
“You know, he’s the only one who hasn’t scented you yet. He probably feels like shit because of that,” Yoongi continued after a beat, examining a loaf of milk bread and dropping it into the cart as well. Y/N stiffened, not used to any of the hybrids explicitly bringing up scenting unless right before the act. 
“God, you think? Why didn’t he tell me– and we’re not going to be back for at least another hour,” Y/N stared at Yoongi with alarm, the leopard hybrid shrugging with a lazy flicker of his ear. “What if he collapses like Seok–” Y/N immediately cut herself off with a hand clamped over her mouth, whipping around to stare at the jaguar hybrid with an apology clinging to her tongue. To her surprise, he wasn’t trailing after her at the moment, only Taehyung was at the end of the aisle scrolling through his phone. 
“Don’t worry, he took off towards the produce like five minutes ago. Not that he’d care if you brought that up,” Yoongi assured, scanning the crumpled list in his hands distractedly. “Jimin will be fine. Actually, he has more self-restraint than most of us, which is pretty impressive.”
“Oh, was that a compliment for Jimin? Warming up to him, are you?” Y/N teased, Yoongi gritting his teeth and pushing the cart ahead of her. She caught the hem of his thermal, tethering herself to him so she wouldn’t be left behind, snickering the whole way. 
“He’s one of the more tolerable ones. Seokjin’s fine, too. Jury’s still out with Foxy…” Yoongi replied begrudgingly nonetheless. 
She didn’t know what was taking over her, but she wiggled her fingers against the wine-colored fabric covering Yoongi’s sides to tickle him once she was next to him, eliciting a purr and a tiny, toothy smile from the leopard hybrid. 
“And what about me? Is the jury still out on me, too, Yoongi?” Y/N prodded jokingly, straightening out a wrinkle on his shirt while he reached for a jar of peanut butter on the shelf. 
Yoongi paused, his tail brushing the length of her thigh as he turned to look down at her, a mysterious expression on his face as she continued to fix his wrinkled thermal. She forgot that she was in the middle of the grocery store with two other hybrids to worry about, soaking in the thoughtful twinkle in his hazel, feline eyes. 
“Verdict is still pending,” Yoongi replied, smirking at the pout stretching across her face at his response. She let go of his shirt as he pushed the cart towards the produce section, Y/N ready to ice him out for a bit out of spite, until he continued. “‘Course I like you, sweetheart.”
Nearly tripping over a display case of cup ramen noodles, Y/N felt her body go both hot and cold as Yoongi simply slunk away with the cart, tail curling placidly behind him as if he didn’t say anything out of the ordinary. The nerve! Heart racing, she managed to pluck up the rest of the vegetables on the list that she could remember, spotting Seokjin not too far away merrily stacking cartons of strawberries in his arms. 
With the groceries in the trunk and the three hybrids safely buckled into their seats, Y/N dragged them to the hardware store and blasted in and out to pick up a basic toolbox for Jimin. The coyote hybrid had wanted to get started on stable work that morning, but because of the inclement weather, he was stalled and Y/N wanted to get him some new tools to cheer him up. 
Beside her, Seokjin was humming along to a Radiohead song on the radio. Yoongi had let him take the passenger seat on the way back, which was probably best for Y/N’s nerves considering he had dropped the ‘of course I like you sweetheart’ bomb on her. Not that she had calmed down at all, with Seokjin seeking out her hand immediately as soon as he clambered into the car, idly fiddling with her fingers as she used her other hand to keep an unsteady grip on the steering wheel. 
“Just one more stop to make…” Y/N managed to squeak over the music, rain, and the blood rushing in her ears. 
Seokjin traced her knuckles with his fingertips, causing goosebumps to pebble up the flesh of her forearm. She didn’t have the guts to sneak a peek at him reacting to her clear enjoyment of his touch. Y/N was going to die an early death, and the cause of it would be the seven hybrids she adopted. 
A middle-aged man from the Best Buy store brought out Jeongguk’s camera after Y/N made a quick phone call for curbside pickup, not wanting to trudge out in the rain again. A box appeared in the window, and she tried not to frown, noticing the highly judgmental look on the man’s face as he looked from Y/N, to Seokjin and the way the jaguar hybrid was holding her hand, and even going so far as to peer into the back seat to raise an eyebrow at Yoongi and Taehyung. She could somewhat read the look on his face, typical dirty male thoughts as his eyes flickered back over her, zeroing in on the especially bruised bite Hoseok had given her on her neck.
“Thanks, have a good night,” Y/N ground out, wanting to yank the mustache off of the man’s face. Seokjin gingerly leaned over her body to accept the box, flashing the undeserving man a sharp-toothed beautiful smile. 
“Yeah, I’m sure you will too,” the man mumbled, clicking his tongue and promptly heading back into the store. 
Infuriated, and not knowing what the fuck that meant, Y/N swore at him while rolling the window up, adding a middle finger for good measure even though the man’s back was turned. She’d have to write a nasty Google review about that particular Best Buy. What was he insinuating?
“Wow, what a dick…” Y/N seethed, blasting through a yellow light so she could get home as quickly as possible. “Looking at me like I’m some sort of depraved sicko.”
“Don’t pay attention to those motherfuckers. Those are the type that think the purpose of hybrid adoption is…” Yoongi stopped speaking abruptly, noticing the dark look crossing over her face from the rearview mirror. She knew where Yoongi was going with that thought, and didn’t like it at all. 
Some perverse people would indeed adopt hybrids for the sole purpose of entering a sexual relationship with them, which filled Y/N with utter disgust. Adoptions should be made from a place of wanting to give a hybrid a home and offering friendship and protection, not simply to exploit them in that way. Seokjin softly squeezed her arm, her fury definitely palpable and coming off in waves. She didn’t care. 
“You’re not pieces of meat Yoongi,” Y/N snapped, the leopard hybrid’s eyes widening as she caught them in the rearview again. “He should’ve kept his mouth shut, it was fucking rude and the assumption is insulting. I’m sorry you three had to sit through that, I’m fucking livid… maybe I should call Ben and see if he can somehow dig up some dirt and get him fired…”
She had forgotten Taehyung was even behind her, silently witnessing her spiral into simmering rage, until she felt him gently pat the top of her head, reaching over her headrest. Somehow, that simple touch had her melting back into her seat, some of the red in her vision clearing away. 
“It’s okay. It’s happened before, it’ll happen again, people with dirty looks and assumptions. What matters is that we’re with you, and their opinions don’t matter,” Seokjin murmured quietly, his words wrapping around her heart and effectively making her hold back a swoon. By then, her anger was gone, and Yoongi struck up a conversation surrounding what he planned on making for dinner. 
When they got back, the three hybrids took care of the groceries, Y/N leaving Jeongguk’s camera in her car for the time being. As she unlocked the front door to the house, Taehyung gave her a one-armed hug, noticing she was still a little perturbed from the whole Best Buy dickhead exchange. She leaned into his strong frame, letting Yoongi in with his fistfuls of plastic grocery bags, humming as the Kodiak hybrid’s sandalwood scent calmed her down pretty much entirely. 
Shuffling into the house, she helped Yoongi put everything away in the kitchen, before parting with the three hybrids to seek out Jimin. She wanted to check if he was feeling alright, give him his new toolbox, and hopefully encourage him to scent her. Because she had work the next day, she felt anxious about leaving him for most of the afternoon if he started feeling even worse. 
Jimin’s door was closed, so she knocked carefully to alert him of her presence, however he likely heard and smelled her coming down the hall anyways. A somewhat hoarse ‘come in’ responded to her knocking, Y/N awkwardly shouldering her way in with the heavy toolbox. Jimin was lounging on his blue velvet chair by the window, which was cracked open and bringing the earthy smell of the rain in. His hair was neatly combed back and he was dressed in simple sweats and a long-sleeved cream cotton shirt, and he looked leagues better than he did that morning. Still, the way he death gripped the book he was holding, and the subtle twitch in his jaw seemed to be the cracks in his carefully constructed composure. 
“Good book?” Jimin nodded, his ears fluttering as he put the book down to listen to her more fully. “Got you something!”
Y/N set the toolbox down on the windowsill beside the chair he was sitting in, not noticing the way he stiffened as she got closer. What she did notice, however, was the sensation of piercing yellow eyes burning a hole in her face, which had butterflies battering around in her guts. She did a little ta-da jazz hands number, grinning at the coyote hybrid as he tore his eyes from her face to inspect what she was offering him. 
“Oh! Are these for…” Jimin began distractedly, swallowing thickly as if the room was filled with some kind of mind-altering gas. “This was on my list I sent you.”
“Mm-hm, I know you wanted to get out there today and start chipping away, and I figured you were a bit disappointed that the weather is inclement. I picked this up to cheer you up,” Y/N explained, wondering how on earth she could bring up the fact that he still hasn’t scented her. 
In reaction to her words, Jimin’s cheeks flooded with a peachy blush, Y/N resisting the urge to reach out and pinch them. For a few moments, they went over Jimin’s plans– he was going to fix up the chicken coop first, as it was the easiest job on the list– the rasp of the coyote hybrid’s voice pleasant in her ears as he spoke. He seemed to relax a bit after a few moments, scooching closer to the edge of the chair to talk to her. When she opened up the toolbox to show him everything inside, trying to wrestle a screwdriver out of its spot, her fingertips nicked the sharpened edge of the tool, making her hiss in pain as the metal sliced the skin of her pointer finger. 
“Ugh, I didn’t think those things could be so sharp,” Y/N whined pitifully, holding her injured finger up to her face, inspecting the wound with her lip jutting out into a pout. 
The atmosphere immediately changed, and it was almost like the room dropped several degrees in temperature. In her folly, she hadn’t registered Jimin’s sudden silence, the way his posture turned coiled and rigid, and his tongue swiping over his lower lip hungrily. Quite literally forgetting that she was standing in Jimin’s room and that he was even in front of her, Y/N flinched in surprise when the coyote hybrid wrapped his roughened palm around her wrist. Pausing, she stared at Jimin with widened eyes, his own eyes a bit more lidded than she remembered them when they were discussing chicken wire. He was focused on the blood running down her fingertip, a pointed tooth biting down on the flesh of his lower lip, his jaw clenching once again.
“I should probably get a bandaid,” Y/N whispered, Jimin’s grip around her wrist delicate but keeping her in place. “Jimin?”
Apparently her words were falling on deaf ears, the coyote hybrid pulling her closer to him as if spellbound, and Y/N was similarly dazzled as she allowed him to tow her between his spread legs. Cringing as she caught a whiff of her own blood, she blanched when Jimin held her injured hand delicately right in front of his face. Just like that, she was ensnared by the coyote hybrid, eagerly holding her breath. 
“Come here,” Jimin huskily broke the silence, mingling with the pattering of rain on his windowsill. 
He spread his legs further, tugging her down carefully, a muffled squeak coming from her as she found herself perched on Jimin’s left thigh, his free arm wrapped around her waist and her legs dangling between his. Briefly, she felt like she was sitting on Santa’s lap at the mall– but the thought disappeared as soon as it popped into her head. His thigh was strong underneath her, toned from likely years of being an equestrian, but his arm slung around her waist was gently secure and tender, contrary to the fact that he’d really just pulled her down onto his lap.
“J-jimin?” Y/N breathed, close enough to him now to hear barely-audible growls bubbling up from the back of his throat, his eyes slipping shut at the sound of his name. Most of her hybrids seemed to have similar reactions when she said their names– she distantly wondered why that was. “What are you…?��
Y/N knew pretty well what Jimin was doing, but she couldn’t find her words to encourage him with her looking at her like she was an angel that appeared in his bedroom on a cloud. After sending her a pointed eyebrow raise, Y/N made herself comfortable in Jimin’s arms, his lavender shampoo calming. Her heart was pounding still, the intensity at which Jimin examined her head-to-toe dizzying, and his ears perked up forward and alert when her breath began to come out in shorter huffs and puffs. 
“Is this alright?” Jimin whispered, slowly rotating her wrist by his lips, his voice so low and breathy she had to lean closer into his chest to hear him. She pulled her eyebrows together, because clearly it was okay– she wasn’t about to deny him an instinctual need, especially when the others had already done so before him– Y/N nodded either way. 
“Yes?” Jimin hummed, his grip around her wrist loosening so he could swipe up a drop of blood running down her wrist with a pointer finger, the growls in his throat becoming more audible by the moment. “I’m yours? You’re mine?” Going completely still with this utterance, Y/N gasped, unable to break away from Jimin’s penetrative, hazy gaze. She knew, with all of the experiences she had with the others, that they tended to say things that seemed to stem from a more instinctual area of their brain before they scented, but the coyote hybrid’s words held such meaning that she could hardly process them rationally. She was his, she was all of theirs, there was no denying– each of them had completely claimed a spot in her heart– there was no room for conceiving the idea of ever abandoning them, which she knew was a reason many of them held off on the ritual in the first place, thanks to information she had learned on the internet shortly before Yoongi had scented her. Jimin, however, needed further confirmation, which she was more than willing to provide.
“Y-yeah. Yes, you’re mine,” Y/N managed to stutter, feeling Jimin’s hand wrapped around her waist drop to her thigh and squeeze ever so slightly. 
Entranced, Y/N watched as Jimin pulled her wrist to his mouth, the only sounds now coming from the downpour filtering in from the cracked window behind the two of them. Keenly concentrated, Jimin ignored her blood, staining his own fingertip and running down her palm, choosing to pull the tender underside of her wrist to his lips at a glacial speed. Time was suspended, much of the rushed thrill from some of the scenting rituals she had been through with the others absent but the intensity still very much there. 
“You smell so sweet…” Jimin growled, the hand on her thigh flexing against her muscles briefly; and Y/N could almost detect thin restraint in the grip, Jimin was ever the gentleman regardless of his animalistic instincts.
With her eyes half-closed, Jimin at last brought his lips to her flesh, placing a hot open mouthed kiss by her wrist bone. The ample petals of his mouth were delicate, but the action was searing against her flesh as he basically made out with her inner wrist, his devious tongue peeking out occasionally to trace along one of the veins closest to the surface of her skin. Mewling softly, Y/N slackened her body weight even further into Jimin’s embrace, letting him fully support her as he mopped up some of her blood with a swipe of his tongue. 
“Jimin…” Y/N sighed dreamily once he passed over a particularly sensitive spot with a barely-there drag of his teeth, eyes drifting shut. “I–”
“Shhh…” the coyote hybrid shushed her tenderly, the pointed edges of his canines finally grazing what she presumed to be his chosen area to mark, Y/N hooking her free arm around Jimin’s neck without a second thought. “Just relax, I’ve got you.”
With a mixture of a groan and a primal growl, Jimin sunk his teeth into her vulnerable wrist almost painlessly, the action so smooth and sensual Y/N could only focus on the blissful expression blooming over the coyote hybrid’s sculpted face as soon as he broke skin. If she wasn’t limp before, she certainly was after that, Jimin’s plump lips wrapped around the edge of her wrist as he infused his scent with her own with his teeth buried in her flesh, and the cloudy sensation the bite brought on having her head lolling back onto the coyote hybrid’s shoulder. The calming scent of lavender enveloped her senses, and Jimin was being so gentle with her, she swore that she could fall asleep on his lap, listening to his measured breaths and the rain outside. 
Through fuzzy vision, she watched Jimin not only brush his tongue over the bite he created, but also clean the blood from her wounded finger as well, satisfied grumbles coming from his chest by her ear. Giggling at the ticklish sensation, Jimin hummed, now holding her hand gingerly as he took a look at the screwdriver injury, his lips dropping into a tiny pout. Y/N reached out with her free hand, still chuckling weakly, and poked his fleshy cheek, indulging in a desire she had been harboring since she adopted him. His eyebrow cocked up in response, a playfulness in his golden eyes as she withdrew her hand, and he decided to retaliate by completely taking her off guard– he brought her wounded finger to his lips and enveloped the tip of the digit into his mouth. 
Gasping, stared at Jimin’s lips wrapped around her finger, dissolving into utter shock as his tongue whirled around the cut, the minor sting disappearing under his ministrations. It was her turn to groan, not sure if the action of him tending to her wound in this way was sweet or total teasing on the coyote hybrid’s part. A distant part of her wondered if the soothing properties of hybrid saliva soothed all wounds, not just marks left behind by scenting, because it certainly felt like her cut was already treated and bandaged. He pulled the digit from his mouth slowly, never breaking the intense eye contact they were currently suspended in, Y/N realizing her hand around his neck was entwined with the cropped blonde hair at the base of Jimin’s neck, embarrassingly, tightly so. 
“Better?” Jimin’s ears twitched, likely picking up her accelerated heart rate, finally releasing her hand and brushing some hair from her face. “You’ll still need a bandage, but it should be soothed. And, you should be more careful, Y/N.”
Mumbling into his shirt, Y/N secretly agreed with him; if that was how he reacted when she got hurt, it was better for her nerves to avoid doing so at all costs. She focused on Jimin’s forgotten book, cast aside from when she first entered the room, and he was reading her old copy of The White Album that he must have swiped from the library. Distantly, she recalled something Alice once said– nothing more attractive than a man who reads Didion. 
“Alright, up you go,” Jimin cleared his throat, using his hand on her waist to nudge her up and forward, off of his thigh, standing with her as she got her footing. “I have some bandaids in my bathroom. Stay here, for a second.”
Jimin leveled a sweet smile at her, though his expression was serious and there seemed to be a few things floating around in his head, his eyes a bit far away. She shifted from one foot to another, humming as Jimin squeezed her shoulder softly before retreating to his bathroom, the sounds of him pawing through his vanity drawers making her ears perk up. Taking a moment to look around his room, it seemed that Jimin had made himself somewhat at home, though the room was quite unchanged compared to the day she brought the coyote hybrid home. The only things she noticed that indicated someone was occupying the recently renovated bedroom were bits and bobs on his dresser, which she neared closer to to get a good look. 
The knapsack that he had traveled from Montana with hung from a knob on the dresser, but the contents were carefully placed on the surface of the dresser. On the left hand side, the formerly crumpled hat he had pulled out of the bag last week was smoothed out and sitting by a lamp, a couple pieces of jewelry (a silver bracelet, silver hoop earrings) placed on a leather square, and on the right was his coiled belt and buckle, as well as a photograph. Footsteps approached before she could take a look at the photo, Y/N peering up at Jimin with a sheepish expression when he caught her snooping. Simply smiling at her, he took her wrist gently, peeling paper off of the bandaid he’d fetched and wrapping it around her little injury. Her eyes drifted back to the photo, the edges of it weathered and crinkled. 
“That’s me and my sister, I was twelve, she was nine,” Jimin plucked up the picture, offering it to Y/N gingerly. 
Taking it like it was made of glass, Y/N brought the photo closer to her face, a tinier version of Jimin grinning at the camera on the back of a palomino horse, one of his front teeth missing and a mini cowboy hat placed precariously on top of his head. In front of him was a little girl, his sister, with the same honey blonde hair and bright golden eyes, her cheeks rounded as she was frozen mid-laughter, Jimin holding onto his sister tightly while she gripped the horse’s reins. 
“Aw, Jimin! This is so sweet, you two are adorable, and you look so alike,” Y/N cooed, placing the picture back down on his dresser while still admiring it. She’d never been to Montana, but the nature surrounding the two young hybrids was gorgeous and wild. “I can find a frame for this, so you can display it properly.”
A pang of sadness spread through her chest, wondering if Jimin missed his sister, his family, and old life. Perhaps, in the future, there would be an opportunity for her to book a flight and take Jimin to visit his family– now that he was adopted and not on the run, there would be no reason for him not to go see them every now and again. 
“You meant it, right?” Jimin asked quietly after a few moments, Y/N tearing her eyes away from the photograph to search his eyes with confusion. “A few moments ago… am I really…”
Yours. Y/N knew what he was getting at after scanning his expression, the coyote hybrid easier to read than some of the others she had adopted. Humming, Y/N stepped closer, reaching out to squeeze Jimin around his middle, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He hesitantly reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her securely. 
“Yeah. You’re mine. I’m yours.”
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After a drizzly night spent watching Masterchef and devouring some kimchi stew and rice to combat the damp chill of the outside, Y/N made her rounds saying goodnight early once more, once she had cleaned up the kitchen with Yoongi and finished untangling herself from Hoseok on the couch. Shockingly, each hybrid besides Jeongguk and Namjoon had given her a big hug before she crawled to her bedroom with enough heat in her cheeks to fry an egg on the flesh. Though he hadn’t hugged her, Jeongguk let her dab a bit of blood off of his face with a tissue when she said goodnight to him from his spot on the recliner, a piece of his velvet hanging loosely from one of his antlers as he bit his lip and stared at her. Namjoon simply smiled at her, dimples and all, saying he’d see her in the morning. 
Cursing when her alarm went off bright and early at 6:30 the next morning, Y/N sluggishly fumbled her way through her morning routine, blindly tapping out a wake up text with her toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. 
Y/N: Good morning boys, ready to leave by 7:15?
Seokjin: Morning Y/N :) Yes!
Namjoon: ^^
Y/N: Perfect, see you in a few
Y/N shimmied into her outfit, some linen pants and a black long-sleeved shirt trimmed with lace she had fished out of the back of her wardrobe, hastily throwing on some Stevie Nicks-esque makeup. If she was going to work at a metaphysical shop, she might as well look the part. Satisfied, she left her room with her tote bag, making sure her wallet and keys were in there. She wasn’t paying attention, so she stumbled into Namjoon in the hallway, the wolf hybrid making a sharp oof sound as she collided into his back. 
“Oh, sorry Joon,” Y/N wheezed, a bit of fuzz from the caramel sweater he was wearing sticking to her lip gloss and her head dizzy from smacking into a solid wall of back muscle. “In a fog… it’s so early,” she continued with a slight whine, Namjoon turning to face her with his face almost entirely pink. 
“Um, it’s okay,” the wolf hybrid managed, coughing into his fist awkwardly as he followed her to the kitchen clumsily. She needed coffee, ASAP– she hadn’t even noticed Namjoon had been taken off guard by a nickname that had rolled off her tongue accidentally. 
Yoongi was in the kitchen, naturally, still in his pajamas but placing items into paper bags. Of course, he already had her coffee ready for her, which had her reaching up to ruffle his hair in appreciation. Seokjin tiptoed into the kitchen shortly after, dressed neatly in a rose pink henley and jeans, excitement lighting up his orange eyes like a jack-o’-lantern. 
After slamming some leftover pastries Yoongi made the other day down their throats, the leopard hybrid was shooing the three of them to the front door by 7:15, Namjoon and Seokjin scrambling to the car while she hung back. As she began to wave goodbye to him, Yoongi grabbed her elbow, halting her. 
“Here, this is for lunch. Give one to each of the others, too,” Yoongi thrusted the three paper bags into her arms, making Y/N stare at him wildly. Yoongi made them lunch to go?
Unable to help herself, she leaned forward and up, planting a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek, the leopard hybrid squeaking in surprise the moment her lips touched the sleep-rounded flesh. Pulling away, Y/N saw Yoongi had gone rather statue still, mouth dropped open in shock. Giggling, Y/N made her way down the porch steps, casting one more look at the stunned leopard hybrid standing with the front door wide open. 
“Thank you, Yoongi! Have a nice day, I’ll see you tonight,” she called, waving at him with the lunch bags swinging in her fist. It felt nice to have somebody think of her, making sure she had something to eat midday. She’d have to pick up something extra delicious for dinner, in thanks. 
The weather was cool, leftover from the rain the previous day, so as soon as she slid into the car, Y/N hiked up the heat in the cab, though it hardly worked, shooting Seokjin a smile in the rearview mirror. He returned it, accepting the bag she offered him with slight confusion. 
“Yoongi made us lunch. Isn’t that nice?” Y/N sighed while settling Namjoon’s bag beside his thigh, flinging the car into drive and praying that she could beat traffic to get the two hybrids to the Boston Public Library in a timely fashion. Judy had told her to show up around 8:30, so she was definitely in a time crunch. 
“Why is this camera down here?” Namjoon asked after a few moments of listening to the tinny Rolling Stones tape she had begrudgingly put on for him, pointing to the box by his feet. 
“Oh damn, I have to wrap that…” Y/N muttered, honking at someone stalling at a green light. “I got it for Jeongguk, his birthday is on Thursday. I thought he could use it for his paranormal investigation, if he wanted to take it up again.”
“Are you throwing him a party?” Namjoon spoke again incredulously, picking up the camera box and examining it, from what Y/N could tell out of the corner of her eyes. 
“I guess the cat’s out of the bag! It’ll be just the eight of us, though. I like to celebrate birthdays. I ordered him a cheesecake last night, even,” Y/N relented, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hedge around Namjoon. 
“That’s sweet, Y/N,” Seokjin offered from the backseat, Y/N catching his eyes in the rearview, his scrunched up in mirth. 
“You two can keep a secret, right? I’m a little bummed I couldn’t keep it a surprise, now you know you two will be getting parties too,” Y/N pouted, jumping on the highway and cringing at a crackling skip in the tape. 
The two hybrids fell silent with this, as she predicted. None of her hybrids particularly enjoyed being the center of attention, apart from Hoseok, of course. She knew that Seokjin would definitely keep the secret since she asked, and Namjoon and Jeongguk were a bit on the outs at the moment, so she wasn’t particularly concerned he’d spill the beans to the elk hybrid. 
“So, since you know now, can you give me some ideas on what to get you for your own birthdays? I don’t want to pick out something you won’t like,” Y/N broke the silence, crossing her fingers over the steering wheel she’d get at least a semblance of an answer from either of them. 
“Um…” Seokjin mumbled timidly from the backseat, fastidiously staring out the window to focus on the bay outside of Boston. 
“I really wish that when I was brought into the shelter, I knew what happened to my trailer,” Namjoon spoke suddenly, stunning Y/N so much she accidentally stepped on the brakes by a ramp a little too hard. “I didn’t have much, but my tapes were in there, my books. It’s probably sitting in some junkyard now.”
“I can probably see what I can do about that,” Y/N began slowly, her mind already coming up with a list of all the junkyards and impound lots around Boston. 
“It’s alright. It’s likely it’s been cleared out, or impacted already. Uh… maybe you could find an old Walkman at a thrift store, or something,” Namjoon looked down at his feet, ears fluttering. 
“I’ll see what I can do about the trailer, I’m serious, Namjoon,” Y/N insisted, once again attempting to make eye contact with Seokjin through the rearview. “Jin? Come on, give me something to work with!” Y/N teased playfully, Seokjin clearing his throat and nervously wiping sweaty hands on his pants. 
“I don’t really know,” Seokjin admitted softly, causing Y/N’s heart to ache. Seokjin was in a lab most of his life, and spent more recent years performing in a circus– perhaps there wasn’t much time for leisure or exploring interests. “Maybe we could all go to a restaurant?”
“We can do that! After the book club, check out some local restaurant menus online, we’ll go anywhere you want,” Y/N encouraged brightly, finally managing to navigate into the city and minutes away from Boylston street. “We’re almost there, I’m going to call my mom so she can meet you two out front.”
By the time she hung up from her mother, who was nearly shouting with excitement in her ear, she was double-parked in front of the library. She told the two hybrids when exactly she’d be picking them up from the library later that afternoon, that they could hang out and read until the club started around 11. As soon as her mother appeared at the top step of the library, Namjoon bid her a gentle goodbye, eagerly exiting the car and jogging up the stony steps of the building. 
“I hope you have fun today, Seokjin! You can always text me if you need me,” Y/N watched as he unfastened his seatbelt, his tail curling around his waist in what she perceived to be in response to having to part with her. 
“Good luck at work today, Y/N,” Seokjin replied, giving her shoulder a light squeeze as he pushed himself out of the car. 
She stayed put until she saw her mother sling both her arms around the hybrid’s shoulders, talking to them animatedly as they disappeared into the library. Shaking her head, Y/N honked back at someone behind her, pissed that she was blocking part of the road, and set off to her new job. 
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Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @g-oomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis
Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!
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aibbabus · 2 months
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I am BEGGING Oshi no Ko fans to understand that the story isn't giving us an incest plotline for the sake of it, but because the manga is about how teenagers are sexually exploited by the entertainment industry. Chapter 141 just talked about how consent is taken away from vulnerable women and children by predators in power.
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MEM-cho mentions that the twins kissing is what the audience would want to see. Abiko & Yoriko also ignore Aqua's discomfort by saying that entertaining his audience is his responsibility.
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Aqua is clearly uncomfortable with the thought of kissing Ruby, while she doesn't have the same reservations. But this isn't because Ruby has some incest fetish; it's because she doesn't see Aqua as her brother.
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"Well, this is still creepy for her!" I need you to understand that Ruby, or Sarina, isn't a well-adjusted girl. She's a child who has suffered from immense trauma that skews her perceptions. She died from brain cancer when she was 12 years old. There's no way Ruby has a proper, healthy understanding of familial and romantic relationships.
And most importantly, this kissing scene is for the 15-Year Lie documentary to get revenge. Aqua is playing Hikaru Kamiki, and Ruby is playing Ai Hoshino. In other words, Aqua has to sexually exploit Ruby in the documentary to ruin Hikaru's reputation. He's at the homestretch to get his revenge, and all it takes is taking advantage of a vulnerable child.
This is Aqua's final test. He has to choose if he will perpetuate the cycle of exploitation and violence that got Ai killed, or if he'll make the right choice Hikaru Kamiki never did before he went too far.
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lucid-daydreaming-art · 2 months
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little lampert doodle page, he means the sun moon and stars to me
practicing with some concepts for lamperts anatomy, i kind of like the idea of him having bendy robot arms that can get longer and shorter. probably wont put that into the blog though, because i dont think it fits him in canon enough. hes a very stiff guy, i just like noodle people. however it is already canon in the KasNLamp (abbreviating it to knl) lore that he can make his body and limbs longer and shorter so that will stay true, just not the bendiness. think of it like adjusting the height of a bike seat or a razor scooter bar, just with less visible parts and infinitely easier
because of this, sometimes he can get really. really tall. really. really. tall. hes kind of freaky
when lampert was first created i think he was really new to being a person, so he doesnt quite know what to do with his body and his default proportions are a bit wonky. arms too long! kinda wobbly! like a baby cow
we decided kasper just kind of screams for no reason really loudly, particularly when something upsets him. his mom dreads taking him anywhere public
for my knl enjoyers, i hope you know we are constantly always thinking about them and talking about them. we have a fleshed out plotline start to finish that we are consistently adding more to. theyre very dear to us. we hope youll love what we do with them
as always kasper design projected into my mind my brain my noggin by unodum himself ( @unoriginal-and-dumb ) fuck you for making me play roblox all those months ago and not shutting up about regretevator the two weeks i was living under your desk youre the reason i have earth shattering thoughts and revelations about a lamp every god damn night
and for anyone wanting to follow the knl lore… >>>>>>> @ask-kas-n-lamp !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <<<<<<<<
(do not tag as ship i will start throwing a fit and screaming he is so acearo to me. they both are. but especially lampert i will temper tantrum everywhere i will do what kasper is doing in the top right)
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fantastic-nonsense · 4 months
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obviously I'd be thrilled to just get the whole PJO series adapted and then end it there. However: Heroes of Olympus as a story can be cleaned up sooooooo much in a way that PJO just doesn't need to be, and a tv adaptation offers the perfect opportunity to do so
like honestly my hottake is that I think Disney could solve both the problem of adapting a long, convoluted sequel series and a lot of the problems HOO as a story has if they a) do The Lost Hero and Son of Neptune in the same season and b) deliberately wait until the PJO actors are in their 20s to do it
Just thinking about this a bit more:
three 12-14 episode seasons, with TLH/SoN in S1, a modified MoA in S2 that deals with some of the Argo crews' HoH subplots, and then HoH/BoO in S3
Percy and Annabeth are in their 20s and newly engaged when he disappears. This sets up the arc of Percy dreaming about settling down with Annabeth in New Rome in a more organic, functional way and also gives us as viewers a chance to see that the aftermath of the Titan War has resulted in tangible, lasting change for the demigods of Camp Half-Blood
Grover replaces Coach Hedge as the Seven's collective Protector+chaperone, which solves the series' problem of Grover's absence and the absence of the PJO Trio's friendship
the whole show/story takes place over ~6 months instead of the year it did in the books, and Percy+Jason's individual quests happen concurrently (simply not letting Percy sleep for 8 months and making an episode where he establishes himself at the Roman camp for awhile before he's forced on the quest with Frank and Hazel would solve about half of the problems on the Roman side of the series)
Season-wise, things mostly sort themselves out:
The first season starts off introducing the Lost Hero trio and we find out that Percy's missing at the end of the first episode. The second episode opens with Percy waking up at the Wolf House and starting his journey to New Rome. We get one episode entirely devoted to amnesiac Jason and Percy integrating into the new camps, making friends, and learning about their missing counterpart before the quest plots start up.
The season then alternates between Jason, Piper, and Leo's "Find Hera" quest and Percy, Hazel, and Frank's Alaska quest, with intermittent jumps to the Greek and Roman efforts to find Percy and Jason. It ends with Percy and Jason regaining their memories and each camp realizing their leader is on the other side of the country in "enemy" territory.
The second season opens around a month later as the Argo II docks in New Rome. Percy and Jason have both been given time to make friends, integrate themselves into the opposing camp, and become adjusted to a different way of life with all of their memories intact. They haven't physically returned to their home camps as they've both independently come to the conclusion that Hera switched them to initiate inter-camp unity and are wary of doing anything that would disrupt that goal. However, Percy and Jason have both managed to get messages to Annabeth and Reyna respectively at some point in that month, so everyone knows everyone is safe when the Greeks finally arrive in New Rome.
Cue MoA's various plotlines, which would be cleaned up and streamlined significantly while also integrating in some of the HoH arcs like Hazel learning how to manipulate the Mist, Frank learning how to use his shapeshifting powers, Piper coming into her own as a daughter of Aphrodite, Leo's seventh wheel arc and the Calypso subplot, Jason struggling to figure out what his place is, the Jason-Nico friendship, etc. Also set up the Greek v. Roman dispute and Reyna following them to Greece. Season ends with the Annabeth-Arachne confrontation and Tartarus fall.
The third season combines HoH and BOO; the season alternates between Percy and Annabeth's journey through Tartarus while the rest of the Seven finish their various character arcs via gathering the elements for the Physicians' Cure and journeying to the Doors of Death. After they rescue Percy and Annabeth and close the Doors, they plan to head straight to Athens to take on Gaea. Reyna reaches them just after, and Annabeth sends her and Nico off with the Athena Parthenos with Grover as their Protector.
The final battle switches between The Seven+Gods vs. Gaea+The Giants at the Acropolis and the Greeks vs. Romans at Camp Half-Blood. The Gaea plotline is resolved at the Acropolis, the Greek-Roman plotline is resolved as Nico and Reyna triumphantly arrive at Camp Half-Blood with the statue, a functional Greek-Roman working relationship, and the gods' blessing. This helps streamline the mess that was Blood of Olympus and actually provides a workable story resolution.
We get a final aftermath/epilogue episode that sorts out and ties up all remaining plot threads, teases Solangelo, and ends with Percy returning home to see his mom and planning out how to move to New Rome after he and Annabeth get married.
Obviously this is the roughest possible sketch of how it could be done, but I genuinely believe doing something like that could fix some of the biggest issues HOO has conceptually while streamlining all of the quest bloat. It'd be interesting to see them try, anyway.
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sugar-coat-it · 3 months
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request request request!!! i love ur writing so much and all i can think about is thigh riding w matty maybe he cums in his pants
AHHHHHHHHHH anon I love you thank you <3 
Um yeah he’s gonna cum in his pants… who do you think I am
I’m combining this + a horny plotline I’ve been wanting to write 
Made him just a tad subby, I hope that's cool!
—--------------------------------------
Matty sits at the edge of your bed, his leg bouncing with anticipation as he waits for you to come out of the bathroom. You’d asked him to let you do a little fashion show for him with some new things you’d bought, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, except today it wasn’t with clothes, but with various lingerie pieces. He’s anxiously eyeing the bag on your sheets, praying that there aren’t any more sets in there, because he swears he might explode if there are. You’d already shown off a pretty sheer babydoll, a lacy set with cutouts, and an embroidered corset with a matching thong. He wanted to rip every single one of them off of your body, his hands white-knuckling at the sheets to try and control himself. You specifically told him that he was only meant to look, he couldn’t touch because you “weren’t sure which one’s you’re going to keep”. Bullshit. Matty knows better, you’re playing with him and you know it too. So, he’s been stuck here, painfully straining against his trousers and watching as you flaunt around in pieces of fabric that clad you so scantily, there’s almost no point in wearing anything at all. But, then again, he can’t deny how absolutely stunning you are in every one of them, he feels grateful just to be in your presence. There’s something so endearing about the way he reacts at the sight of you each time, how he swallows hard, a flush on his cheeks as his eyes widen with pure wonderment, you’d think he’d never seen you this bared to him before. 
“Okay, last one!” you call from behind the bathroom door, making your final adjustments to the undergarments. 
“It fuckin’ better be…” he mutters to himself, not even trying to hide the effects of the predicament you’ve put him in, he’s sat with his legs spread out. 
You’re just absolutely beaming before you’ve even got the door open, already knowing that this one will be his favorite, you can hardly wait to see the look on his face. You step out into your room and relish in the way Matty’s jaw just drops, a warmth spreading across your skin at how ravenous he looks right now with his legs spread open like that. Saving the best for last, you’d picked out a set consisting of a cupless bra and crotchless panties, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. His cock jumps immediately, Matty groans lowly at the way he can’t control the aching throbs beneath his trousers.
“Holy fuck,” he gapes, covering his mouth with disbelief, his tongue practically hanging out.
His breath is hot and panting against his hand, he feels like he’s burning up, god, the torture you’re putting him through. It, without a doubt, was his favorite of the lineup, despite how you look unfathomably sexy in all of them. You slink closer to him, watching the way his hands twitch and tense at his sides with the effort of not reaching out to feel you. He moans under his breath as you do a little turn in front of him, letting Matty see the full effect of the look and more specifically, an eyeful of your perfect ass. With that, he loses his patience, quickly deciding your rules can be damned as his hands move to hold your hips, he just needs something, anything to satiate himself. You bat him away before he can get to you, taking a step back as you tilt your head at him enticingly, clicking your tongue at his impulsiveness. Matty groans with frustration, his expression somewhere between a pout and a snarl.
“Fuck’s sake! Are you serious? My dick is so hard it fucking hurts, I’m genuinely going to die, you evil, evil woman!” he complains, motioning to the sizeable bulge, thick and straining against his thigh.
“Aww, poor thing,” you tease, leaning against your armoire as you cross your arms over your chest, only further accentuating your tits.
You turn away from him completely now, ignoring the way he’s trying not to literally pounce on you as you look at yourself in the floor-length mirror. You do look damn good, you can’t say you blame your boyfriend for being dangerous levels of horny. Humming, you run your hands over your sides, smoothing your fingers over the delicate straps holding the lingerie together. 
“I dunno if I’m going to keep it. What do you think?” you muse, glancing at him through the reflection in the mirror, he’s almost drooling, it’s only reminding you of how much power you really hold over him. 
Matty stays eerily quiet, you’re not even sure if he’s fully hearing you, his head too full with his urgent desire, his lust-darkened eyes trained on the curve of your ass. He doesn’t like being told he can’t do something, especially when what he wants is right in front of him, it drives him absolutely mental. He’s plotting what he can say or do to make you crumble, to have you begging him to touch you. You interrupt the turning of the gears in his head by moving to straddle one of his legs, Matty’s eyes snapping up to look at you, an unreadable expression plastered on his face. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, now unabashedly staring at your body poised on his thigh. He’s stonewalled by the rules you set that blatantly oppose his desire to take what’s in front of him, candy dangled right in front of his face. 
“If I can’t touch you, you can at least make this all worth my while, don’t you think?” he grumbles, blowing a frustrated puff of air up into his curls. 
“Oh, you want a different kind of show?” you smile coyly, knowing that your reasons for keeping him on the sidelines are flimsy, but it’s so damn fun. 
Matty just stares at you with lidded eyes, his head tilted back slightly as his hands fist at the blanket, knuckles white with the self-control he's exerting. He’s not interested in games anymore, impatience written all over his face. You take this as the perfect opportunity to start to slowly rock your hips back and forth on his thigh, your bare cunt against his jeans due to the panties being totally crotchless. Matty shudders as he realizes what you’re doing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly at the wet dream coming to life in front of him. You sigh out, finding a rhythm that suits you as you grind yourself on him, angling your hips so the rough fabric of his jeans catches just right against you. Pretty whimpers spill from your lips as Matty suddenly flexes the muscles in his thigh, encouraging you to go a little faster now as he creates the perfect surface for you to get yourself off on. Matty bites his lip with a groan, feeling you soaking into his jeans, a small wet patch forming as you work your hips shamelessly, he feels like he’s burning up with the effort of not grabbing your waist and guiding you, pressing you down harder against his thigh. You’re purposefully moaning a little louder than usual, really wanting to be his little star performer tonight as you ride his thigh, your tits bouncing with the effort of your movements. 
“Fuck…” he mutters, hot pants of breath parting his lips as he watches you, his cock throbbing so hard it’s almost painful.
You let out a lewd whine of his name, tossing your head back as you reach for your breasts, cupping them in your hands partly to make yourself feel good, and partly to drive Matty insane. You circle your peaked nipples with your thumbs, relishing in the sensations that tingle and spread over your flushed skin, a harsh pang of pleasure rippling deep inside you. Your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the way it all builds up, your pleasure only compounding with Matty’s intense eyes burning into you. He’s not even sure what to keep his gaze on, your gorgeous face contorted with pleasure, your hands grasping at your exposed tits, or at the mess you’re making on his thigh. He’s overwhelmed, his darling girl must have learned from the best on how to put on a good show. 
“Darlin’, love, please. Please, can I touch you? Need to feel you, hon, you’re killing me,” he rambles breathily, his chest heaving as he keeps his thigh flexed for you.
You just shake your head, not even bothering to open your eyes as you keep dragging your aching cunt against his thigh, feeling quite confident that you can get off on your own. Although, you’re quite pleased that he’s resorted to pleading now, his resolve crumbling with every roll of your hips. Matty, however, is anything but pleased.
“No?” he repeats, frustration clear in his tone as his jaw clenches. 
He’s about to bitch about it some more before you open your eyes and grab his chin swiftly, keeping a firm grip on his face to shut him up. You’ve got a wild look in your eyes that has Matty suddenly silenced, his breath catching in his throat at this sudden show of authority. 
“No. You’re gonna fucking watch,” you grin spitefully between panting breaths, the pace of your hips unfaltering. 
And just like that, he whimpers, squirming a little against the mattress as his erection twitches in his jeans, murmuring something unintelligible under his breath. You keep your hold on his pretty face with one hand while the other keeps toying with your breast, adding to the pleasurable sensations flowing through you in waves. You’re staring at each other with such intensity, it’s making heat thrum under your skin, your heart beating out of your chest. Moaning wantonly, you go a little faster, losing your coherent rhythm as you start to buck and squirm on his thigh, trying to inch closer and closer to the edge of euphoria. Matty tilts his head down to kiss at the palm of your hand that’s gripping his jaw, running the tip of his tongue along the edge of your thumb. Your eyes widen, but you don’t stop him, allowing him to bend the rules for the sake of the way the sight of it is making your mind fuzzy. He’s getting into it now, you can tell, he is no longer fighting the position he’s in.
“Shit, close,” you gasp, your head tilting back as you keep riding, chasing your high at your poor boyfriend’s expense (though, really, who is he to complain? His hot girlfriend is using him to get off).
“Yeah? Gonna cum on my thigh, sweetheart? Gonna use me till you’re creaming on my jeans?” he whispers, never one to keep his filthy thoughts to himself.
You nod quickly, whining as you rut against him, your hold on him tightening along with the tension inside of you, relief just at your fingertips. Matty moans loudly, his brows deeply furrowed as he watches you tip over the edge right before his eyes. Your back arches as a silent cry overtakes your features, your lips part in a perfect circle as your eyes squeeze shut, shuddering throughout your whole body as your orgasm washes over you in intense waves. Your hips stutter against his thigh, having thoroughly left your mark on his jeans, traces of you stained on the fabric. When your eyes hazily blink open again, you’re met with Matty’s pretty, lidded eyes, a blush dusted on his cheeks up to his ears as he breaths heavily, quivers running through him like aftershocks. At first, you just thought his expression was due to how sexy he found the whole thing, but then you glance down to see a sizeable wet patch near his now softening erection. Your eyes go wide, Matty watching as the pieces click together for you. He just bites his lip, knowing he can’t hide the fact that he just came untouched from watching you ride his thigh. Shocked, you can hardly manage your next two words before, of course, he cuts you off.
“Did you-”
“Piss off…”
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dearbraus · 8 months
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Flowers Never Bend with Rainfall⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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— Wriothesley
⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, fem! reader, mentions of reader wearing a corset, gown and earrings, arranged marriage, original characters; reader has an unnamed family and older sister, nobility and high society's conventions, allusions to gendered familial roles, sfw. ⊹ Run time. 1.3k ⊹ Note. I have had such brainworms for this man since seeing him for the first time. I had to write something but didn't want to get too ahead of myself since we know nothing of him yet sooo I decided to start a new series of drabbles that will follow this plotline, reader, and Wriothesley. You can find it under the tag # flowers never bend and it will eventually be posted to my ao3 as a cohesive story <3
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Your sister beams as she gives your appearance another once over. It's the fifth time in the past ten minutes that she’s turned to you with scrutiny in her eyes, adjusting a strand of your hair or smoothing out the crisp neckline of your dress– you must be perfection. Today you’re meeting him, the man your parents sold you to when you were no more than six years old. He had been a boy then too and just as much of an unwilling participant in the whole affair as you had. Perhaps it was cruel to blame him for your misfortunes. At least the two of you had been given the courtesy of a meeting, a single chance to rectify the will of your parents before they made plans to force the two of you down the aisle.
The day after her eighteenth birthday, your older sister had been married. A gaggle of small children soon followed. They made quite the army of troublemakers but she continued to grow round with one every few years because they were just so cute when they were little. She fancied herself a matchmaker and believed that she knew everything there was to know when it came to matters of the heart. But, what did marriage have to do with the heart when it was nothing more than a political arrangement? Your father had made thousands of those in his lifetime and he’d do thousands more by the time by the time his earthly body was returned to the waves.
There was nothing special or romantic about standing in the middle of the lobby at the Hotel Debord being primped and preened over like a porcelain doll. The seafoam-coloured walls make the contents of your stomach curdle uncomfortably though your favourite gown as a child had once been spun off the very same shade. Today you wore pink taffeta topped off with a lace-trimmed neckline and a little white bow placed carefully at your décolletage. It as though your childhood bedroom threw up on your seamstress and out came this dress.
“Did you know that your fiancé is a Duke?” your sister whispers as she ushers you over to one of the plush chairs, “That mean’s he comes from a very wealthy family, mhm, and is a very well respected man.”
The whale-boned corset beneath your dress keeps your spine straight as you sit and still your sister makes a point of pressing your shoulders back before taking her own seat, “Does he have a name?” You ask, placing one delicately gloved hand over the other.
A myriad of people file in and out of the hobby with what appears to be a purpose. You can’t but watch with curious eyes and the childish hope of discerning him from the crowd before he’s able to spot you. Like a flower, you’d wilt beneath his gaze and learn nothing more than the facade people like you and he were taught to wear like a second skin. Instead, you’re met with swishing skirts that ooze refinement and galloping pups in gaudy costumes. There is little to be gained from people watching carbon copies that chased the latest trends as if that would appease their archon.
“Wriothesley,” Your sister states as if the answer should be obvious to you.
The name hardly strikes a chord of recognition within you, you may have heard it in passing years ago but no new memories surface as you search for an inkling of familiarity. It was futile, your days within the court were limited as you much preferred the solace of your family's countryside estate. The quiet was nice. With no nightmare-inducing machinations to tower over you. The servants were friendly too and even with the tendrils of gossip that filled their quarters, they never seemed to judge you too harshly for having the privilege to shirk societal expectations.
“Does he have a surname?” Focusing your eyes on the ornate glass chandeliers that swing with each gentle breeze pushed in through the ever-revolving doors, you quell your growing need for some tangible information into a dismissive interest, “Or shall I just be known as the lady duke?”
Your sister's gaze is sharp as is how quickly she turns her head to face you, “Come now, you know it is inappropriate to make such comments,” She smiles at a passing stranger, and they smile back, “He is a good man, that much I know.”
Despite the sunny disposition that is quick to replace her annoyed expression, you can feel your sister’s ire simmering within her gaze. Light splinters from the artfully crafted crystalline chunks and dances along the slick tiled ground. The sight of it makes you dizzy but you enjoy the head rush as you settle your focus onto the reflective floor. A gloved and idle hand comes up to twirl the dangly earrings that weigh heavy on your lobes, smoothing your thumb against the drop pearl.
“How can you be certain that he is a good man if you do not even know his family’s name?”
It’s difficult to stifle the giggle that rises to your lips when she glares at you. You found in that moment that it was good she had not been blessed with a cryo vision because it would pale in comparison to the chill that settled over the table.
“If you were so curious perhaps you should have asked father,” she gritted out, “I am just here to ensure that you do not embarrass yourself in front of Wriothesley.”
“How kind of you dear sister,” you grin the way she hates, showing her all of your teeth, “Surely I could not know how to talk to a man at my advanced age of twenty-two without your steadfast guidance.”
“It is a wonder why Mother and father chose you for the duke and not I,” your sister muttered beneath her breath, hoping you did not hear her.
Green was an ugly shade on your sister but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. It was human nature and adults were far more like children than they liked to believe, coveting toys that didn’t belong to them.
Though, her ego would balloon to be ten times the size of her body should you ever dare to admit that you wished your parents had chosen her for their political gain and not you. You weren’t well suited for the things you supposed this Wriothesley would expect of you. Most days you spent more time with your nose buried in long-forgotten tomes than you did in etiquette lessons. Those were important, your mother once said, a man of such status had much social responsibility and as his wife, so would you. 
“What time did Father say we may expect his grace to grace us with his presence?”
If the two of you were at home, she might have snarled at you, “I do not find you amusing!”
A well-dressed man carrying a shiny silver platter approached the table. If he heard your bickering, he chose not to comment on it, “Your tea has arrived, ladies.”
“Sir, I fear you are mistaken” you stated, your voice growing timid as he began to unload the contents of the tray into your table, “We did not order any tea.”
“No, but he did.”
The “he” in question was an imposing man who hovered behind the waiter. Neither of you had noticed but your sister began to smile demure at him the moment she took notice of his presence. The first thing you noticed was the glinting silver handcuffs that hung off his belt like a warning and then the metal-clad fingerless gloves. The chains and chunks of alloy made the deep red tie he wore look silly and out of place but his keen, pale eyes made you shrink in your seat as they slid over your visage.
“May I present to you his grace, the Duke Wriothesley.”
Oh.
So this was the man your family intended for you to marry.
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Wishing everyone who enjoyed / related to Isaac’s plotline in Heartstopper S2 a very please read Radio Silence and Loveless by Alice Oseman.
Radio Silence is about Francis Janvier, a bisexual girl, and her friendship with Aled Last (the member of Charlie’s friendship group who Isaac was substituted for). It includes Aled’s journey of identity as a gay, asexual and possibly non-binary person and adjusting to life at university among other things. It is very sad in places and Aled’s mum is shown to be manipulative and emotionally abusive but overall it is a very sweet book with a happy ending.
Loveless follows Georgia, also a first year university student, and her relationship with her friends and discovering that she’s AroAce. Loveless was also in the background of quite few of the Isaac scenes and my sister kept getting very confused as to why I was pointing at a very blurry purple book and going FORSHADOWING as we were watching.
Both books have asexuality and the importance of friendships as key themes and are generally wholesome and uplifting, but be warned in Radio Silence things get worse before they get better.
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lovemyromance · 2 months
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I don't think people understand. In order for Elucien to work... SJM in no way needed to include any Elriel. She did not need to write any scenes between them at all, because let's be honest, outside of family dinners when would Azriel & Elain interact?
She did not have to write Azriel sitting in the garden with her.
She did not have to write Elain gifting Azriel headache powder and him laughing the most joyous laugh. (Btw, only elains gift to azriel was mentioned. Did she not even get a gift for Cassian or Mor? Why only Azriel?)
She did not have to write Azriel discovering her powers when Majda said a mate would be able to know if something was amiss.
She did not have to write Azriel rescuing her from Hybern's camp. She did not have to write "you came for me" "get these chains off her"
She did not have to write Azriel giving Elain truthteller.
She did not have to write the scene in ACOFAS where Azriel makes sure everyone waits for Elain before eating.
She did not have to write scenes in ACOSF that show Azriel being protective of her, his shadows swarming at just the mere mention that something happened to Elain.
She did not have to write the bonus chapter where Azriel buys her a custom necklace, loses sleep over thoughts of her, is willing to beg on his knees for a taste of her-
SJM had literally no reason to write Elriel if she were going for an Elucien endgame. By ACOMAF, Elain & Lucien were already mates. There was enough tension between them from Elain's dip in the cauldron and the sudden mating bond snapping and new adjustment to the far world and mourning Graysen - there was enough drama already. Enough obstacles that their story would've been interesting if their feelings had had a chance to grow from there.
I would've been perfectly fine if Elain had come out of that cauldron, had some of that use & pull and tension and attraction with Lucien, and accepted the bond. It would have made sense.
But SJM did not do that. She chose to write instead:
How Elain & Lucien avoided each other
How Elain didn't even want to speak with him and only did so at the behest of Feyre.
How Elain did not use any of the gifts Lucien sent her.
How Elain balked from Lucien, shrank into herself, lost her newfound boldness.
What was the reason?? She has a mate. There was enough conflict that it wasn't just a cut and dry "you're my mate 😱 ok I love you 🥺 " plotline. There was absolutely no need to introduce a new love interest for Elain if Elucien was endgame.
There was no need to throw in another male who is not her mate and frame it as a viable option for Elain. SJMis a decent writer, after all. She might love cliches, but she doesn't do shark jumps and things just for shock factor or petty love triangle drama.
The only reason that would make sense to write an Elriel relationship when the Elucien bond exists...would be if Elucien was not endgame. If SJM has been painstakingly sowing the scenes in the background for the relationship of two of the characters that work in the shadows, quietly without any pomp and circumstance. If SJM is hinting, yet again, that the theme of ACOTAR revolves around freedom of choice with Elain having to choose between a fated mating bond and the one she truly loves.
But I thought it was obvious 🤷🏻‍♀️
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voidpetrova · 8 months
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the white party — stiles stilinski x reader
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☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: swearing, rich!reader x middle class!stiles, gossip girl inspired plotline and theme, unprotected sex — porn with plot
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
synopsis: everyone who is anyone flocks to the hamptons to wear all-white and participate in some melodrama
✧.*
the setting sun cast long shadows over beacon hills, signaling the approaching arrival of the town's most extravagant event: the annual white party. the anticipation was palpable as ornate invitations graced the mailboxes of the town's elite, promising a night of glamour, intrigue, and indulgence. among the privileged recipients was you, a prominent figure in beacon hills' high society. with your family's wealth and influential connections, you were a coveted guest at any gathering. dressed in a stunning white gown that hugged your figure flawlessly, you exuded an air of effortless elegance as you prepared for the evening's festivities.
the white party was the pinnacle of social events in beacon hills. held at an opulent estate hidden away from prying eyes, the venue itself was a testament to extravagance. the sprawling mansion was draped in cascading white fabric, bathed in soft, ethereal lighting that danced across the polished marble floors. the atmosphere was electric, filled with a sense of anticipation as guests began to arrive in their finest all-white attire.
but this year, there was a twist to the story, one that added a layer of intrigue reminiscent. the twist was a certain guest, an outsider to the world of privilege, a name whispered with curiosity and skepticism: stiles stilinski. stiles, unlike the rest of the attendees, did not belong to the upper echelons of beacon hills. he was a fish out of water, a commoner who dared to crash the white party. and he had a plan.
as the guests started to arrive at the white party, the tension in the air was palpable, a storm brewing on the horizon of beacon hills' privileged society. you glided through the crowd, your every move calculated to exude an air of grace and confidence. your eyes, concealed beneath the shadow of your elegant white mask, scanned the sea of attendees.
and then, you saw him.
stiles, dressed in his best attempt at formal attire, looked like an anomaly in the sea of tailored tuxedos and couture gowns. he stood near the entrance, flanked by his more eligible friends who had, with their connections, secured his place in this exclusive world for the night.
a smirk played at the corner of your lips as you watched him from afar, your eyes narrowing with a hint of mischief. you'd heard rumors of his audacious attempt to infiltrate the white party, and you couldn't resist the opportunity to engage in the kind of melodrama that would make even the highest of gossip sites crumble.
stiles, oblivious to your presence, seemed determined to blend in. he nervously adjusted his bowtie, casting uneasy glances at his friends who appeared equally out of place in this glamorous setting. the scene was set for a clash of worlds.
as the night unfolded, the party's extravagance reached its zenith. champagne flowed freely, the dance floor pulsed with rhythmic beats, and the guests reveled in the decadence of the occasion. but beneath the veneer of merriment, a rivalry simmered, akin to the upper-crust conflicts of beacon hills' elite.
you decided to initiate the first move, sashaying through the crowd until you were standing right in front of stiles, a predator sizing up its prey. you tilted your head, allowing a cascade of glossy hair to fall over your shoulder.
“stiles stilinski,” you purred, the words laced with faux sweetness. “i must say, your boldness is almost admirable. sneaking into the white party? that takes audacity.” he swallowed hard, his eyes darting around nervously, aware that the eyes of the partygoers were on you both. “well,” he stammered, “sometimes, you have to break the rules to get what you want.”
your laughter was a melodious trill, dripping with condescension. “oh, stiles, you always did have a flair for the dramatic. but this world—” you gestured to the opulent surroundings. “this world is not for the likes of you.”
his jaw clenched, and stiles shot back, “maybe i'm here to prove that it should be.”
the tension between you crackled like electricity, drawing the attention of stiles' friends who exchanged intrigued glances. it was a battle of wits, a duel of words, and the guests watched with bated breath, captivated by the unfolding drama. the white party, once an elegant soirée, had transformed into a stage for your rivalry.
amidst the glittering chandeliers, the party's glamour was intoxicating, a world of privilege and pretense where secrets were currency. the opulent estate's grand ballroom had transformed into a sea of swirling white gowns and tailored tuxedos, the air filled with laughter and the clinking of crystal glasses.
as you and stiles engaged in your theatrical confrontation, the guests were drawn in like moths to a flame. little did they know that beneath the surface of this grand masquerade, your history was a tangled web of emotions and betrayals.
“it's amusing,” you said with an enigmatic smile, “that you think you can play in this league, stiles. this world thrives on connections, and you?” you gestured to him, letting your gaze linger on the prominent scar that ran across his cheek. “you're a misfit here.”
stiles' eyes flashed with defiance, a spark of the same spirit that had drawn you to him in the first place. “maybe i don't want to fit in with your world. maybe i want to expose it for what it is.” each word was a calculated move, a chess piece in the game of one-upmanship you were playing.
but beneath the bravado, there was a truth that neither of you could deny: you had once been deeply entwined. the breakup had been messy, fueled by betrayal and hurt, and now, here you were, using this extravagant party as a stage to get back at each other.
the tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. the partygoers were torn between fascination and discomfort, unsure of whether to applaud the spectacle or to intervene in the brewing confrontation.
amid the swirling white-clad guests, the battle of wits and wills between you and stiles continued to escalate. the white party's opulence provided the perfect backdrop for your melodramatic game of one-upmanship.
stiles, determined to prove himself in this world of privilege, leaned in closer to a group of eligible young ladies, his charm and wit on full display. he regaled them with stories, his animated gestures drawing laughter and admiration. it was a calculated move, a way to show that he could play the game just as well as anyone else in attendance.
not to be outdone, you gracefully allowed yourself to be swept into the arms of a charismatic young man, one with connections as impressive as your own. you engaged in witty banter, your laughter like music in the air, drawing the attention of partygoers and cameras alike. it was a performance, a carefully choreographed dance, and the white party's glamorous stage was yours to command.
as the night progressed, the flirtation between you and stiles became more brazen, each attempt to outdo the other more daring than the last. it was as if you were caught in a whirlwind of attraction and rivalry, the lines between the two blurred by the intensity of your history. you danced with other partners, locked in playful embraces, while stiles continued to bask in the adoration of his newfound companions. the partygoers watched in fascination, the drama unfolding.
but then, as the crescendo of the evening's flirtations reached its zenith, a moment occurred that neither of you had anticipated. you found yourself wrapped in the arms of your dance partner, locked in a passionate kiss that left no room for interpretation. the room fell silent, the spotlight shining brightly on this indiscretion. stiles' eyes, wide with shock and hurt, met yours across the room. in that moment, the rivalry that had driven you to this point seemed insignificant compared to the raw emotions laid bare before the party's judgmental eyes.
the guests whispered, the scandalous moment playing out like a scene from a soap opera. but you and atiles were lost in a world of your own making, a world where the past and present collided in a tumultuous storm of desire and resentment.
the time for pretense was over. the white party, once a stage for revenge, had become the backdrop for a confrontation neither of you could avoid. as you separated from your dance partner, you made your way through the crowd, drawn inexorably toward stiles.
the tension in the room was palpable as you finally stood face to face, your eyes locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. the melodrama of the arty had reached its climax, and the unresolved emotions between you and stiles hung heavy in the air. it was a moment that mirrored the iconic past confrontations and playful banters, a moment where secrets and rivalries were stripped away, leaving only the raw truth of your past and the possibility of a future.
the cacophony of the party's extravagant revelry faded into the background as you and stiles stood locked in an unspoken battle of emotions. the room seemed to shrink around you, leaving only the two of you at the center of the storm.
stiles was the first to break the silence, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. “you always did have a way of taking things too far, (y/n).”
your heart pounded, and for a moment, it felt as if time itself had paused. the truth in his words cut deep, for you both knew that your attempt to provoke each other had gone too far, a melodramatic twist that had spiraled beyond control.
“you're not blameless in this, stiles,” you retorted, your voice laced with frustration. “you crashed this party just to prove a point, to show that you could be part of this world. well, you got what you wanted, didn't you?”
the guests around you whispered in hushed tones, the spectacle of your confrontation captivating their attention. it was as if you and stiles were the stars of a real-life drama, and the white party had become the stage for your reckoning. his expression softened, the anger in his eyes giving way to a hint of sadness. “i never wanted it to be like this, (y/n).”
the vulnerability in his voice struck a chord within you, a reminder of the complicated history you shared. the white party had been the catalyst for a confrontation neither of you had anticipated, but it was also an opportunity to confront the unresolved feelings that lingered beneath the surface.
as the night wore on, you and stiles retreated from the judgmental eyes of the partygoers, finding a secluded corner where the melodrama of the evening could finally give way to a candid conversation. the tension between you was undeniable, but so was the undeniable chemistry that had drawn you together in the first place.
“i don't know if we can ever go back to what we were,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. hw nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. “maybe we can't, but we can find a way forward. Without all this drama.”
it was a turning point, a moment of vulnerability that allowed you both to confront the mistakes and betrayals that had driven you apart. the white party, once a stage for rivalry and revenge, had become a backdrop for reconciliation and reflection. as the night grew late, you and stiles continued your conversation, no longer focused on getting back at each other but on understanding the complexities of your past. the glamorous world of the elite slowly faded into the background, leaving only the promise of a new beginning for two people whose lives had been entwined in melodrama and intrigue.
the night had grown darker, and the party's extravagant revelry had given way to a quiet, secluded corner of the mansion. you and stiles, your emotions laid bare in your candid conversation, found yourselves in the heart of the mansion's opulent kitchen.
the kitchen was a sanctuary, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the window. the gleaming marble countertops, normally reserved for chefs and caterers, now served as the stage for a different kind of performance. stiles approached you slowly, the distance between you filled with an unspoken tension. his eyes, which had held a hint of sadness moments ago, were now filled with longing.
“i've missed you so much,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, the words hanging in the air like an unbreakable spell.
you didn't respond with words. instead, you closed the space between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that was both desperate and passionate. it was as if the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this moment of shared desire and vulnerability.
stiles's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him. the cold marble of the countertop pressed against your back, a stark contrast to the warmth of his embrace. the kiss deepened, each moment a revelation of the unspoken emotions that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. his lips moved with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the connection you had once shared and the intensity of your history together. it was a kiss that transcended the melodrama and intrigue of the white party, a kiss that spoke of forgiveness and the possibility of a new beginning.
the world outside the kitchen seemed to disappear as you and stiles lost yourselves in each other, the weight of your past mistakes and betrayals lifting with each tender touch. it was a moment of catharsis, a moment that signaled a turning point in your tumultuous relationship.
his mouth was relentless, melting into yours. his hands moved from your neck slowly down your chest, pulling at the zipper that held your dress together. you had forgotten you were still in your formal attire until now, as stiles grasped at your collar. his lips continued to melt against yours, melting away any resistance you might have felt. he pulled away for a brief second, a devilish smirk forming as he looked down at you, barely sitting on the countertop.
you made an attempt to form enough space to pull your dress up, but stiles refused to let you move. he watched as you struggled with your zipper, desperate to give yourself to him just hours after your godforsaken rivalry. your heart twisted by the shift of events. your head told you to push him away before things escalated, but the pool between your legs said otherwise.
“you're sure about this?” for a second, you hesitated, but you nodded eagerly, lip tucked between your teeth. you heard the metallic spund of his belt clasp and shortly after it hit the floor, he held onto your knees as he spread your legs further apart. one of his hands was on top of yours, while the other repeatedly thrusted into your slick. he moved his hand to your clit, holding it in place. “you want me that bad, huh?”
in response, all you could do was nod. you felt like you were about to cum at the sensation of his words and the feeling of your clit tingling. suddenly, you felt him inside you, his dick taking all of you with one swift motion. the fullness was overwhelming, leaving you moaning with relief and pleasure. your pussy tightened around him as he repeatedly pounded into you, using a free hand to continue circling around your clit. he grasped at your hip with his other, angling himself as he pushed you further onto his cock. he groaned, “this pussy was made for me.”
your eyes widened as all of your senses grew numb. he continued to fill you up over and over again, the warmth of his length pulsating inside your cunt. his hand grasped your throat, his thumb tucking into your mouth. you bit it in order to suppress your screams, moaning into him, the fear of being discovered as equally overwhelming.
his thumb slipped out of your mouth and your eyes locked. that pished you over the edge. you came all over his length, squeezing his dick with your orgasm, moaning louder than you thought possible as tears began to stream down your cheeks. his eyes stayed glued to yours as they rolled into the back of your head. your juices began to pool beneath your ass, filling the counter top. you wanted to move away from your now oversensitive cunt, but stilws kept your hans secured with his, rubbing your juices with your own fingers into your sensitive bundle of merves. “just a second, baby.”
he began to pound harder into you, filling you more and more with every thrust. you cried out from the sheer amount of him, moving your ass on the countertop to find relief from the moisture that pooled beneath you. with every aggressive thrust, he pulled you closer, bringing his dick even deeper into your pussy. the contrast between his movement and you coming down from your first orgasm was too much—your mind became foggy once more as his dick filled you. you moaned his name, building pressure releasing onto his shoulders again as your pussy swallowed his cock. you could feel him twitch inside your swollen, abused pussy, grinding into you more urgently than before. he released the grip from your hand and used them to pull your hips into him, pushing deeper as he reached his climax, dumping his hot, white inside of you. you both collapsed breathlessly into each other, head laying against his chest.
“i fuck good for a poor guy, don't i?”
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cottoncandysprite · 10 months
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Ok I think the main motif of the season 5 promo pics is supposed to be dreams/sleeping. From the simplistic nighttime aesthetic to the bedtime story-esque character promos they've been posting, and of course the icons they put with each character tying into dream meanings that line up pretty well.
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From what I can gather for dream meanings:
Colin Robinson, Glasses- needing a new perspective/to see things clearly (could tie into his whole loss of childhood memory thing but thats a bit of a stretch, i think his is more literal)
Laszlo, Lute- good news from a friend you love very much but is long gone (???? Could also be more literal but if not thats very concerning)
Nadja, Crystal Ball- looking within to find your true destiny/future (she is going back to her roots and longs for a sense of purpose...)
Nandor, Swords- power and authority, or a choice you must make that could lead to either good or very bad consequences. Changes meanings depending on one's character (he is very "could be amazing or go horribly wrong depending on what he chooses to do in a given situation" kind of character)
Guillermo, Telescope/Spyglass- seeing the bigger picture, adjusting focus, or desire for someone/something that may not be right for you (yeah that sums him up to a T)
The Guide, Crescent Moon- professional growth and an increase in recognition, or an unconscious pull towards something (SHE'S MOVING UP IN THE WORLD I'm so proud of her fr!)
That all raises the question: Why a dream motif? It could be that this season deals with crushed dreams (we know that might be the case for Guillermo but that was more true for the other characters last season), or maybe there's a plotline this season that deals with dreams in the more literal sense? Does the Guide's symbol being the moon have significance, in that she has the biggest arc of the season (please let her go either full villain or full main character by the end of the season)?? Or they just liked the aesthetic, who knows. But still, much to think about...
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