#or if they shifted the focus from actually straight up horror

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Everything's all fun and games until everyone assumes you're just being a Horny BardTM when you have, in fact, actually been kidnapped by a dragon.

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

“Wow,” Ace whistled, long and low, and you fought a twitch in your jaw.

He and Deuce were certainly beat to shit, but not quite ‘hurled dozens of feet through the air and a roof’ level of shit, so your spell must have cushioned at least a little of the fall. The pair of idiots stood at the entrance of the cavernous room, shifting back and forth on their heels and faces twisted up in varying degrees of horror. 

“I mean, I know there’s a stereotype about bards and whatever,” he continued, aghast. “But, really? Really?”

You grit your teeth. The pointed chin resting atop your head shifted and you felt claws flex at your hips.

‘My friends will probably be coming back here soon to find me,’ you’d entreated, not five-minutes prior.

‘Your friends?’ the dragon had repeated, slow, like the concept of comradery was something completely alien. And then his eyes had narrowed. ‘Ah. They intend to steal you away,’ he’d said with all the indignation of someone who’d clearly forgotten he had literally just proclaimed his intent to the do the exact same thing.

Sparks had shot out from between his teeth, and the already too-sharp black nails tipping his fingers had curled into talons—ashy darkness trailing up his arms like a seeping stain.

‘What? No,’ you’d lied. ‘They would never. I’m sure they’re just curious. Whether I’m still alive or not, I mean.’

‘Oh,’ he’d blinked, that venomous ire seeping from his gaze as if it’d never been there to begin with. ‘I suppose that does make sense.’

So when your loveable idiots had eventually stormed in—swords drawn, banners flying—you schooled your countenance into something as placid as possible. Something that perhaps conveyed ‘I would love for you guys to help me out here, but also I would really like not to see the three of us become tonight’s entrée. So like. Maybe sit this one out.’ But whatever expression you ended up making clearly wasn’t doing what you were aiming for if Ace’s first instinct was to accuse you of Horny Bard Shenanigans.

Or maybe your face wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just the nearly seven-foot-tall, naked, dragon man draped across your shoulders. Who’s to say.

“This has nothing to do with that,” you snapped, ears burning.

“Do with what?” The newly dubbed Tsunotarou rumbled. He was pressed close enough that you could feel the worlds roll through his chest—annnnd you were going to stop yourself right there and focus very, very, intently on getting through this conversation alive.

“Human things,” you spluttered frantically.

“Ah,” he hummed, his chin shifting from the crown of your head to dip down and instead rest atop the curve of your shoulder. “You’ll have to explain it to me later, then. I do find our cultural differences very intriguing. You humans are so… new age.”

“Explain it to you later…?” Deuce frowned, and you could see the words zipping around behind his eyes to slowly put themselves together into a cohesive thought. He shot ramrod straight and whipped his arm out accusatorily. “You’re staying?!”

“Of course,” you said, with all the enthusiasm of someone with a knife held to their throat. You locked eyes as obviously as you could—hoping he’d get the message. “It’s in everyone’s best interest.”

You could see the pinched look on his face, the heavy weight of discontentment tugging at his brow. There was a war being waged in that man’s head—a battle between what lingering, frail, shreds of rationality and comprehension remained, and the desire to be a good friend and save our bard! Because mama said I should be good to my friends! You stared him down hard, silently begging, pleading, to just let it go. The fingers gripping his axe tightened and you could hear the leather of his gauntlets creak with strain. Tsunotarou hummed, something like amusement coloring the throaty rumble, and it tingled all the way from the tips of your toes to the cheek he was tucked up against. The claws at your side flexed—not deep enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that funny as the notion of a teeny, human, barbarian hurling themselves at a dragon was, it wasn’t going to be a good enough joke to earn said dragon’s mercy.

“Well, duh, you’re staying!” Ace interrupted slickly, sliding in front of Deuce and his burbling rage like a fox finally skulking from its hole. “Look at what a great new friendyou’ve made! You can’t just leave him here all on his lonesome, now can you?”

The low rumble skirting along your back melted into something that was very nearly a purr. Your eyes flickered to your captor’s face—or as much of his face as you could manage to make out, considering he had plastered himself to your side like an overgrown cat. His lips were curled back into that smug, contented, smirk—the tips of his sharp canines just barely peeked out over his bottom lip.

“We’ll come back and check on you, of course,” Ace continued. He waved his hand at the dragon, like they were old chums shooting the shit over a pint of ale in a tavern. “You know how it is. Gotta make sure they’re settling in all right—make sure you’re keeping with your honorable intentions and whatnot. How’s two weeks from now sound?”

“Two weeks?!” you wailed.

Tsunotarou grumbled, clearly also displeased. “I agree. That seems far too soon.”

“Two months?” the ginger countered easily.

“Ace!”

The dragon seemed to consider this new proposal quite thoroughly. You could feel his long lashes flick down against your cheek as his eyes went hooded, heavy—slipping back into his thoughts to ponder upon this newly proffered timeline. After a long, long, moment, he lifted himself from your neck and plonked his chin back down atop the crown of your head.

“That is acceptable.”

Deuce looked entirely unimpressed. You had a feeling you looked like you were about to shit yourself. Ace, naturally, seemed more or less content.

“Well then!” the traitor chirped. “We’ll see you when we see you then, yeah?”

You grit you teeth, but your gaze flicked to your other, kinder, friend and you bit back the slew of heinous insults brewing on your tongue. Deuce still looked more than ready to jump into the fray, consequences be damned. And you were not going to let your terrible, horrible, no-good, rotten luck end all his valiant attempts at redemption when he inevitably attempted to go toe-to-toe with the business end of a dragon.

“…Are you sure you’re gonna be alright here?” Deuce asked, face twisted up in distaste.  

There was a pissy rumble from over your shoulder.

“Do you doubt my abilities as a host?”

“Of course he doesn’t!” Ace cut in, ever the bootlicker. “And besides,” he drawled, elbowing his companion in the ribs. “You know how bards are. I’m sure this is right up their alley.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Deuce went pale—then green. Ace turned on you with a smile that was all vinegar. “Right?”

‘I should not let them be murdered horribly,’ you repeated to yourself past the crimson rage leaking into your vision. ‘I should not let them be horribly murdered—’

“Righteo!” you forced yourself to spit. And if you somehow managed to survive these next two months, you were going to string that red haired traitor up by his pinkies and feed him to the crows that lived outside your window.

Your friends slipped away slowly, hesitantly—Deuce looking like he’d been struck down by a horrid case of food poisoning or something else equally as stomach churning. Once they were gone, Tsunotarou lifted his chin from your head so that he could crane his neck over your shoulder and look at you more directly. Not that he had to try very hard, seeing as he was gigantic, whether on two legs or four.

“What was the small, ugly, one referring to?” he asked curiously. “About your profession?”

Your life flashed before your eyes.

“Bards are known for their hearty curiosity and drive to experience new situations,” you repeated, verbatim, from the little adventurer’s handbook you’d been gifted by Lord Crewel all those years ago.

“Oh,” he hummed, nodding into your hair. “Of course.”

.

.

The first major hurdle cropped up barely two hours later.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

The dragon blinked slowly, as if mentally tallying through a list of human bodily functions to try and figure out just what on earth you were talking about.

“Ah,” he said after a moment. And then he began to melt away—limbs stretching and cracking, and porcelain complexion bubbling up with inky miasma so thick and dark it may as well have been tar. It was both horrifying and awe-inspiring to watch, like some great creature of old emerging from an arcane cocoon. And not two minutes later, a familiar, ebony, dragon was standing before you in all its glory.

He lowered his snout and nosed around your shoulders for a moment, snuffling and searching. And then he pinched your collar between his teeth and hauled you into the air.

You tried not to scream. Really, you did. But humans just weren’t meant for flying, let alone while suspended between the jaws of a beast that could swallow them whole. By the time you landed, you were so wobbly and windswept that you nearly collapsed to the ground then and there, bladder be damned. Tsunotarou warbled something deep in his chest, and you glanced up past the thin veil of icy sweat dripping into your eyes.

He'd placed you into a blown-out enclave that had probably once been a very nice hallway. And in the corner was the remains of what indeed looked like a bathroom. You straightened yourself as much as you could and began hobbling woozily towards what you hoped was a proper, enchanted, toilet and not just some block of stone with a bowl at the bottom.

There was an echoing thud from behind you and you jumped, startled, and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Tsunotarou had sat his massive head at the entrance. And he continued to sit there. Watching.  

“Uhm,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

He stared, unmoving. You sighed and squashed your fingers into your temples.

“…We’re going to have to establish some boundaries,” you said. The dragon’s gigantic, neon, eyes closed and opened—like a question. “Boundaries,” you repeated. “Things that we do on our own.”

The beast’s lips flattened into a grumpy line and he grumbled something unintelligible at you, spitting loose sparks from behind his overly long canines.

However, mouthful of razor-sharp teeth in your face or otherwise, everyone had to draw the line between pride and self-preservation somewhere. And having to piss in front of an audience was apparently yours.

You waved your hands in a shoo shoo motion and those amethyst crests flattened irritably atop his skull. He settled in further, the structure of the terrace groaning beneath the weight of his scaly chin. You worried your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn’t exactly like there was a door or anything that you could just, like, shut in his face. And beating him off with a broom or something like a stray cat was out of the question—just out of sheer impossibility. You were going to have to get creative here…

An idea popped into your head and you leaned forward with a charismatic little smile that you’d unleashed on so many traders, and shopkeepers, and unsuspecting bakers that it ought to be considered a weapon in its own right. You’d practiced it in the mirror for weeks.

“I’ll tell you a story,” you offered, and his slitted pupils rounded a bit—intrigued. “That’s what I was before all this, you know. A storyteller.” You had his full interest now, those purple crests rippling behind his horns. “But you have to close your eyes,” you said. “It makes it easier to imagine that way.”

He stared you down curiously for a heartbeat or three, and then Tsunotarou’s gigantic, luminous, eyes slipped shut.  

You sighed and plopped yourself down on the decrepit, stone, toilet.

“Once upon a time,” you began, sweeping your cloak out in front of you to give yourself at least a little bit more dignity. One of those crests twitched at the sound of swirling fabric, but his eyes remained dutifully closed. “There was a bard who made some very terrible life decisions—"

.

.

The next bump in the road came the following afternoon.

“People tend to wear clothes,” you said.

He canted his head at you. “I am not a person.”

Oh for fucks sake.

Tsunotarou was stretched out along one of the many, grand, banisters lining what you assumed had once been a ballroom—lounging in the dim light like a lizard sunning itself on a rock. Apparently, before your arrival, he’d very rarely, if ever, shed his wings and scales for this more compact form. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying spreading himself out across all the new surfaces that the change in size allowed him. Part of you would have thought it was a bit endearing—seeing this eldritch monster merrily falling into the ‘if I fits, I sits’ way of life. The other part was sick of nearly collapsing in cardiac arrest every time you caught sight of his very naked self reclining across some new piece of furniture.

“Yes,” you intoned, deadpan. “But you look like one.”

He blinked slowly, as if putting together a thought. “I see. The dissonance of observing a vestige of humanity which does not actually fit the mold of a human must be disconcerting to you.” He rested a knuckle lightly against his chin as he pondered. “In the same way I may feel uncomfortable if you took on the form a dragon with no teeth or tail.”

“Sure. Whatever,” you bemoaned. “Just. Pants? Please?”

He observed you quietly for a moment, amusement dancing across his features. And then he grinned, putting the pointed tips of those impressive canines of his on full display.

“Well I suppose if you’re going to ask so sweetly.”

He sat up with a stretch that was outright spitting in the face of your plea for modesty, and then spread his hands. His black-tipped fingers twisted gracefully, artfully, and the cavernous room filled with the scent of packed earth and ozone. Soft puffs of emerald light glided along his arms, and in their wake sprouted tendrils of sheer, silken, sleeves. Those dancing lights traveled merrily from his shoulders to his hips, and then back again—spinning magic into fabric like little, ghostly, seamstresses as they went.

The soft glow faded and the silk settled around him with all the delicacy of a cloud. It was stunning, certainly. A true work of beauty. With billowing sleeves that cinched neatly at his wrists, and swept into an open window across his front. The fabric wrapped itself snuggly at his waist and draped low enough to offer at least what should have been the bare minimum of modesty. It pooled across his shoulders, splaying out into a split cape that looked eerily similar to the wings he dawned in his other, scalier, form.

But this lovely new ensemble—as gloriously shiny and magical as it was—was still nearly fucking transparent. And yeah, the shadows curling along the spiraling silk did a decent enough job at obscuring what ought to be obscured. But at the same time, somehow this impression of cloth, of loose fabric that dipped below his collar bones and hung uneven and open across his pale chest, was worse than the outright fucking nudity. Scandalous. Like walking in on a seduction scene in a trashy novel.

“…maybe you should just do whatever makes you comfortable,” you managed to cough out, gaze slipping downwards of its own accord. And then more down. You gulped. “D-Don’t feel the need to change yourself on my account.”

He stared grumpily at his swanky new outfit. And then back at you. His lips pursed into a pout.

“You don’t find it pleasing.”

Your eyes rolled up to stare miserably, tormentedly, at the ceiling, and you began reciting every religious verse you could think of. Thou shall not steal or covet. In the name of the Mother, the Crone, and the Hallowed Throne. Head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Aye, Macarena—

“It looks perfectly nice. I just think that you have as much of a right to be happy in your skin as I do,” you reiterated. “I—I mean, you’re already keeping yourself human more often than not just so we can talk.” Which was true enough, but also mostly an attempt to make it seem like your concern was genuinely aimed at him and not your steadily rising blood pressure.

“…you’re incredibly strange,” he grumbled after a moment, his brow tugging low on his forehead. More pouting. “And impossibly frustrating to read.”

The heat radiating off your face like a fucking active volcano felt ‘possible’ enough to you, but what did you know.

“That’s why you’re keeping me around,” you reminded him.

Ten minutes later, he was sprawled out with his head in your lap, the ridges of his horns bumping your hips and inky black hair spilling over your thighs. Naked as a jaybird.

“Tell me another story,” he hummed, eyes slipping closed.

“Sure,” you agreed, gaze once again firmly locked on the hundreds of cracks in the ceiling. You’d probably have them all memorized by this evening, or at the very least have managed to count them all up a dozen times over.

You were halfway through some yarn about armies made of playing cards and worlds beyond looking glasses when Tsunotarou sighed, heavy and bone deep. Content. And then he turned to bury his cheek into the rough fabric of your traveler’s pants with a rumbling drawl that was not unlike a purr. His nose pressed itself into the inseam of your thigh and your brain fuzzed out like you’d been shot pointblank with a Wand of Lightning Bolts.

“Child of Man?” he huffed after a moment—one, neon, eye flicking open to glare up at you grumpily. “What happened then? To the cat that smiled too wide and the man with the mad hats?”

“R-Right,” you squawked. “Uhm—so as I was saying—”

You stared back at all those cracks and started counting again from zero.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Twst Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 2

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Sixteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 20.5k

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Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Heyyyy besties LOL! Prepare yourselves! This chapter is definitely my spiciest yet, so hold onto your seats (and don't look at me LOL I'm Seokjin thirsty). Besides that, though, we have domestic moments, and GHOSTBUSTING WOO HOO! I hope you all enjoy this and don't hate me for being thirsty. Love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading!

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Previous Chapter

Suddenly, all of the sounds of the city faded into oblivion. Cars rushing by passed in colored blurs, romantic music flooding out from restaurants filled with couples celebrating Valentine’s Day dimmed to a hum, and all Y/N could focus on, or even register, were the clumps of powdery snow beginning to gather on Seokjin’s long, straight lashes. His fiery eyes were shifting back and forth, assessing the expression on her face, his sleek black tail curling self-consciously around his waist. Y/N’s brain was scrambling for any kind of coherent response, Seokjin’s grip on her hands going slack once the seconds stretched on. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Seokjin whispered sadly, to himself. It was that statement that had Y/N snapping out of her state of shock. 

“Jin–” Y/N exclaimed, but Seokjin had let her go, turning slightly and trudging away, his hand tightening around the handles of the shopping bag. “Wait, honey!”

“We should head back to the car, it’s getting cold with the snow,” Seokjin’s voice sounded thick, like his throat was closing up, making Y/N hiss and lurch forward, catching him by his felt coat. Promptly, he halted, though he wouldn’t turn around to face her. 

“Actually, we should talk,” Y/N managed, pulling Seokjin along desperately, yanking him up the stairs of the church they were in front of and pushing the two of them inside the warm building. 

The place was lit up, but mercifully empty, and Y/N assumed the priests were in the back of the building, a separate room, where they kept vestments– Jeongguk had been telling her about various aspects of Christianity and the architecture of churches during their hours of reviewing tapes for the Sanders’ case with Namjoon. Huffing, she towed her jaguar hybrid to the enclosed room at the front of the church’s entrance, the one with a window facing altar; the space was intended for parents with crying children to sit in so as not to disturb Mass. Y/N thought it was as good of a place as any to have a private conversation without freezing their asses off in the snow. 

“W-why are we here?” Seokjin still wouldn’t turn his face to hers, instead choosing to studiously stare out the window, fixing his eyes on the elaborate wooden pulpit. 

“Seokjin, look at me,” Y/N requested gently, tugging the fabric of his coat lightly to encourage him. 

Stiffening, Seokjin swallowed, his ears still pressed flat against his wavy head of black hair, chewing on his lip as he finally looked her in the eyes once more. Heart clenching seeing the aching vulnerability on his face, she took the bag of their purchases from Eataly from his hand, placing it on one of the chairs behind them. 

“You don’t have to let me down gently, Y/N…” Seokjin uttered quietly, and despite herself, Y/N was rolling her eyes while her back was to him. 

“Seokjin, will you just hear me out for a few minutes?” Y/N replied, trying to compose herself despite the way she was nearly ready to pounce on Seokjin. “Don’t shut down on me like that.”

Seokjin remained quiet, his throat bobbing when she faced him again, Y/N sighing and wondering how the hell to explain to him her feelings, not only for him, but for the rest of his housemates. It had her head swimming, and the strong scent of church incense wasn’t helping. 

“You… said you loved me?” Y/N wanted to confirm, Seokjin’s neck turning an even deeper shade of red, but he nodded slightly nonetheless. His tail was still curled around his waist. 

“Ever since my birthday. Probably even before then,” Seokjin admitted, Y/N’s heart beginning to race in her chest, one of Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound. 

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, watching Seokjin trying to not look crestfallen. 

“I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, especially after tonight,” Seokjin continued, one of his hands coming up to rub at his bicep. “Even though… you and Yoongi.”

Time stopped, space ceased to exist. All that mattered to her in those seconds was Seokjin, and his undiluted earnesty was palpable. Nothing could stop Y/N from opening her mouth impulsively, at that point. 

“I think I fell in love with you on Halloween,” Y/N blurted loudly, Seokjin’s jaw dropping open in pure shock, her voice echoing in the empty room and emphasizing the ferociousness in her tone. “Seeing you with the kids, handing out candy. Or maybe it was that night you held me after Tae and Joon’s fight.”

“What?” Seokjin breathed, a combination of elation and confusion taking over his expression. 

“I fell in love with Yoongi when he offered to teach me piano,” Y/N couldn’t help the word vomit pouring from her mouth, figuring if anything, she could confess all of her feelings to Seokjin, and maybe he’d get where she was coming from. “Jeongguk and Joon when they helped me with the spirit, that day outside when we did the cleansing ritual, I knew I loved them. I fell for Hoseok when I realized he was the glue holding us together.”

Understanding dawned on Seokjin as she spilled her guts to him, but all he did was reach for her hands, a tender look in his eyes so sweet Y/N nearly began to weep. Honestly, she could have been weeping, but she couldn’t stop her speech as Seokjin held her. 

“Seeing Jimin wear his expressions so earnestly, innocently, and Taehyung’s trust in me, his love for our home…” Y/N shuddered when Seokjin pulled her in for a hug, her face pressed against the front of his coat, and palms stroking up and down her back to soothe. “I’m in love with you all, I can’t help it, but I do. I love you, Seokjin, so, so much.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but his chest began to vibrate with purrs, simply holding her as Y/N took a few moments to breathe, initially not coming to the conclusion that saying all of that out loud would end up being such an emotional release for her. Physically, she felt lighter once she admitted all of that to Seokjin, but she was nervous about how he was taking the news that she had feelings for 6 others. 

“You really love me? You mean it?” Seokjin broke the silence, his hands shaking as he pushed lightly on her shoulders so he could look at her face, his ears finally perked up after being pressed flat to his head for so long. 

Grasping one of his wrists, Y/N maintained eye-contact as she pressed his palm over her heart, no doubt beating rapidly even underneath her thick coat. A small exhale came from Seokjin, Y/N craning her head upwards to scan his face, not wanting to keep him in the lurch any longer. 

“Of course I mean it,” Y/N whispered, her free hand curling in the material of his coat, feeling tears gather along her lash line. “You have my heart.”

Seokjin chuckled, the sound watery, and Y/N felt his hands still trembling as they moved to cup her face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones with reverence. She shivered, sliding her hands up his chest to rest over his heart, beating wildly, drowning in the scent of his eucalyptus body wash. 

“I–” Seokjin swallowed, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can I kiss you?”

Heart stopping altogether, her eyelids fluttered as she felt his shaky hands still cradling her face, so gently she could hardly feel the touch. 

“Yes,” Y/N replied eagerly, her voice barely coming out at all, transfixed by the way Seokjin looked at her with complete adoration. “Please.”

Slowly, like time had been suspended, she watched Seokjin duck his head, his eyelids growing heavy as he nudged the tip of his nose against hers, Y/N unable to shut her eyes as his beautiful face neared closer than ever. Sucking in a tiny breath, she melted against his broad chest, fingers sliding into the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. When Seokjin’s eyes closed, she kept hers open a fraction, only for stars to explode in her vision once his voluminous lips landed on hers. 

Immediately making a noise of delight, Y/N sank into Seokjin, not caring that they were in public, or a church, for that matter. The press of his mouth was impossibly sweet, loving, Y/N nearly groaning as his lower lip slipped against the seam of her mouth. While the kiss was chaste, Seokjin’s thumbs still tenderly caressing her cheekbones, it had her insides igniting, angling her head so Seokjin could work his mouth against hers more deeply. Her lungs were burning for oxygen all too soon, Y/N refusing to break the lock of their lips, but unfortunately, her jaguar hybrid sensed her need to breathe, and his perfect lips slid from hers sensually. 

Before she could speak, her hands still in his hair, Seokjin began stamping kisses all over her face, like he had the last time he scented her. The purrs coming from his chest grew in volume when she sighed in bliss, Seokjin’s hands moving to cup her neck while he brushed a kiss over her jaw bone. 

“I love you, I love you…” Seokjin breathed, his warm breath washing over the side of her neck, Y/N nearly passing out in his strong arms. “My Y/N. My pretty girl, I love you…”

“S-seokjin. Mmm,” Y/N attempted to speak, though the distraction of him mouthing over the slope of her throat was overwhelming. “You, uh? Know– that I, um. Love the others, too? Does it bother you?”

Seokjin paused, pressing one last kiss underneath her earlobe, his arms wrapping around her waist securely. His warmth consumed her, and the way he held her felt like she was being cherished– her own arms wound around his wide shoulders in retribution.

“There’s nothing you could do or say that would change how I feel,” Seokjin said firmly, Y/N shivering at the finality in his tone. “I just… I didn’t think you loved me the way I love you. I had hope when we had lunch with Hannah, but…”

“Yoongi,” Y/N finished for him, nuzzling her face into his chest. 

“Does he?” Seokjin probed cautiously, running his hands through her hair, seemingly not able to get enough of touching her so freely. 

“Know? Yeah,” Y/N blushed, the whole situation so complicated, she hardly knew how it came to be in the first place. “He knows I love you. All of you.”

Seokjin rested his chin on the top of her head, humming contentedly as he held her. All she wanted in that moment was to remain in his embrace, soaking in his comforting presence, but all too soon he was drawing away, his eyes sparkling and lips a tad swollen from their kiss. 

“I think we should head home. We scandalized the priests,” Seokjin nodded to the window, Y/N’s face on fire when she realized indeed, two young priests were gawking at them from behind the glass, and both of them hurriedly returned to arranging pamphlets in the pews. 

With that, her and Seokjin giggling the entire way, they left the church, Y/N waving apologetically to the priests while Seokjin grabbed onto her free hand. Y/N didn’t have time to think about what would happen when they got home, but because she swore to herself that she wouldn’t hide information from the others anymore, she wasn’t about to sneak around with Seokjin like she had with Yoongi. 

Outside, it was still snowing, but tucked closely into Seokjin’s side, she hardly felt the cold. His arm was around her waist, hand entwined with hers, tucked into her coat pocket. The walk back to the parking garage wasn’t long, but it took twenty minutes– Seokjin stopping occasionally for a kiss amongst the snow storm, his lips melting against hers. 

“Got the bag?” Y/N jumped out of the car, glancing at their lit-up house in front of her, chewing her lip nervously. 

It wasn’t too late in the evening, so Y/N knew that everyone was probably still up, snacking on their Valentine candy and watching TV, perhaps. Namjoon’s van wasn’t running, surprisingly, so neither he nor Jeongguk were hanging out in there. Seokjin appeared from around the car, the bag of ingredients and recipes in hand, a sweet smile stretched across his face. 

Someone flicked on the porch light, most likely Namjoon, who kept quite the canine watch over the front door, especially at night. Clearing her throat, she gestured for Seokjin to head up the porch steps, following closely behind and praying the wolf hybrid wouldn’t immediately sniff out that her and Seokjin’s relationship dynamic had shifted significantly. The jaguar hybrid opened the front door, letting Y/N in first, locking up behind her promptly– if he didn’t, Namjoon would have had a stroke seeing the deadbolt pulled back. 

The house was toasty, and judging by the scent, Yoongi had made his popular roasted chicken for dinner for everyone that was left at home. She was blushing as Seokjin unzipped her coat for her, shucking it off and hanging it in the closet, the sounds of the TV from the parlor indicating that a few of the hybrids were hanging out in there. 

“You’re back,” Yoongi appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the threshold with a dish rag in his hand. “I thought I’d have to call a cab for you two.”

“No, we took a walk to digest the wine before I got behind the wheel,” Y/N replied, Yoongi smirking when Seokjin was fussing over lint on her sweater from her coat, his fingertips skimming her arms and sides and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Hope there’s leftover chicken for my lunch tomorrow!”

“You know there isn’t, even without you and Jin eating your fill,” Yoongi scoffed, flicking long hair out of his face. The front of his white tee-shirt was damp from doing dishes, the material clinging to the muscles of his lower abdomen. “Here, let me take that.”

Yoongi sprung forward, taking the Eataly bag from Seokjin, and Y/N didn’t miss the way Yoongi subtly sniffed in her direction, his expression turning sly as he returned to the kitchen with the swish of his spotted tail. Stiffening, knowing that Yoongi could probably detect Seokjin’s scent all over her, as well as her uneasy expression, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“How the hell are we going to break the news without me suffering from a heart attack?” Y/N sighed, shivering when Seokjin cupped the nape of her neck, stroking the sides of her throat, Y/N blinking up at him from her spot in front of the jaguar hybrid, unease heighting when she saw the mischief on his face. “What are you–”

“I LOVE Y/N!” Seokjin suddenly hollered at the top of his lungs, Y/N flinching a foot in the air, both because she never heard Seokjin speak so loudly, and the words that came from his mouth. “SHE LOVES ME BACK!”

Cringing, Y/N supposed that was one way to do it, Seokjin bending suddenly and picking Y/N up by her waist, spinning her around like a giant goober. While her world was turning, dizzying up her head, she caught Jeongguk and the shape of his antlers, poking his head over the bannister from upstairs with a hand pressed over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. Prick. 

Hoseok barreled into the foyer from the parlor, half of a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth, clever eyes round and filled with joy. 

“No way. You told her!?” Hoseok fist-bumped the air, whistling his three-note tone, russet tail swinging merrily. Y/N’s jaw was loose, the idea that Seokjin had been discussing his feelings for her with Hoseok hard to fathom.

Namjoon’s door cracked open a few inches, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he glanced out into the hall, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Despite the news, his gaze went straight to the front door, making sure it was locked up, his half-bitten ear fluttering in satisfaction. 

“Didn’t strike me as the polyamorous type, kiddo,” Jeongguk slouched down the stairs, tattoos on both his arms exposed with the muscle tee he was wearing. “You on the other hand, Pink Panther, you should work on subtlety.”

Embarrassed by the jab from Jeongguk, an amused glitter in his black eyes, Y/N shot him a withering glare, very aware of Seokjin still holding her mid-air like a child. 

“Yo, Yoongi! You have competition!” Hoseok shouted in the direction of the kitchen, the leopard hybrid popping into the hall and giving Hoseok the finger. 

“Foxy, I’ve never heard a voice as grating as yours, let alone known someone to flap their gums so much,” Yoongi seethed, though his expression softened when he looked at Y/N. The silent exchange between the two was, as always, supernatural, the uneven set of Yoongi’s mouth almost telling her congratulations. “Leave Y/N alone, you’re embarrassing her.”

Hoseok finished chewing his Twizzler, still staring at Seokjin proudly, Y/N tapping on Seokjin’s shoulders for him to put her down sheepishly. Seokjin, reluctantly, lowered her to the floor, glee still plain as day on his face. 

“You guys could have a thr—” Hoseok was cut off when Yoongi used the dish rag he was still holding to smack the back of the fox hybrid’s head, even Seokjin offering Hoseok a low, feral growl. “Nevermind! I’ll butt out! Y/N, come watch Step Brothers with me!”

Hoseok, quick to recover from the sharp whack of the towel, his hand massaging his scalp with a wince, gestured towards the parlor, winking at Y/N merrily. Y/N snorted, hoping that the shameful spark of enticement that struck through her at that idea was undetected by the hybrids in the foyer. Jeongguk was calling Hoseok a ‘dirty goddamn pervert’ before retreating outside for a smoke. 

Casting a look upstairs, Y/N noticed Taehyung’s door ajar, the Kodiak hybrid’s head of dark curly hair visible. Too far away to gauge his reaction, Y/N hoped that he wasn’t upset, even though Seokjin had cut right to the chase, declared their mutual affection, and they weren’t sneaking around. She felt immensely awkward, between Yoongi and Hoseok still bickering, Taehyung watching from upstairs, and Namjoon’s disinterested retreat back into his bedroom. 

“Wanna go watch the movie with me?” Y/N put her focus on Seokjin, unwilling to part with him just yet, and truthfully, missing Hoseok like a lost limb. “I can stay up for a bit longer before I head to bed for work tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hm,” Seokjin easily agreed, the peeved look on his face disappearing when Y/N reached for his hand. Before they left for the parlor, Y/N addressed Yoongi, who was heading back into the kitchen, murmuring something about “fuckin’ fox”. 

 “Hey, angel. Any idea where Jimin is?” Y/N tried to pay no mind to Seokjin pressing on the vulnerable skin of the inside of her wrist with his thumb, Yoongi humming and leaning forward, kissing her cheekbone with a featherlight ghost of his lips. 

“His room, showering. Can’t you hear the noisy-ass pipes?” Yoongi replied, jutting his chin forward in the direction of Jimin’s room down the hall. “Don’t worry. Every hybrid in a two mile radius heard Seokjin’s declaration.”

“Ass,” Y/N muttered, narrowly dodging the dish towel he twisted up to level a smack to her behind, Seokjin growling gutturally and tugging Y/N towards the parlor, ignoring Yoongi’s amused snickers. 

Hoseok was already comfortable on the recliner, the movie queued up, snacking on his Twizzlers with a wry smirk on his face, staring pointedly at her and Seokjin’s intertwined fingers. Resisting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face with her mouth, Y/N squeaked when Seokjin yanked on her hand, the jaguar hybrid plopping down on the couch with her in tow. Somehow, she found her legs draped over his lap, her back leaning on the armrest and his hands running up and down her calves indulgently. It seemed Seokjin was resuming his touchiness, and that time around, he jacked up the intensity to one thousand. 

Hoseok simply played the movie, like her and Seokjin sitting like that was completely ordinary, Y/N finding herself a little tense with the intimacy of the position she was in. However, as seconds ticked by and Seokjin’s fingertips massaged her skin vigorously, she was melting into the couch, eyes already heavy with sleep. Over the noise of the movie, Seokjin’s content purrs lulled her to sleep, and the next time she had consciousness was when she felt him gather her in his arms and carry her to her bedroom. 

“I think we’re going to schedule the investigation for Monday, do you think that will work?” Y/N was in the process of stacking a new batch of Labradorite onto the crystal table at the shop, Judy helping her with her silver bangles jangling. 

“You’ll have to give Erika a call, and I’ll book the hotel that the family will stay in overnight,” Judy replied, blowing sandy hair out of her face. 

Y/N had about one million things going on in her life at that point, but prioritizing the investigation was at the near top of the list. First, of course, was Hoseok’s birthday that upcoming Saturday, and Y/N had finally managed to plan what they were doing after squeezing it out of him. That aside, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jimin in 24 hours, the coyote hybrid was already outside with the horses before she went to work that morning, so Y/N had no idea what he thought of her and Seokjin yet. Taehyung, at least, was present for her early breakfast with Yoongi, and didn’t appear upset at all, which had her and Yoongi exchanging secret looks of pure disbelief. 

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Judy snapped her out of her thoughts, a kind smile on her face when Y/N realized she was staring blankly at a slab of rose quartz. 

“O-oh, no, I’m so sorry. I have a lot on my mind, my bad,” Y/N stuttered, Judy nodding while adjusting the way a sphere of Labradorite was sitting in a shallow bowl, so the flash of blue in the crystal was sparkling just right. “What did you say?”

“Not to worry, Y/N. I was just asking about your hybrids… that reading I gave you many months ago. Have you seen any truth in it?”

It was common for Judy to speak like that, as if she didn’t have psychic ability, but it didn’t bother Y/N at all. In fact, she preferred Judy’s way of going about divination rather than her mother’s tactic of going behind her back or blurting out her random premonitions without warning. 

“I…” Y/N fumbled with the box in front of her, accidentally dropping the rose quartz point she was holding. “I took some notes, like you suggested. I was able to connect the cards to each of them.”

“Really?” Judy exclaimed, excitement lighting up her green eyes, though the tug at the corner of her mouth told Y/N her boss knew as much. 

“Considering my boy’s pasts, when you gave me that reading at the time, I was sort of against the idea of entertaining any kind of romance between us. I wanted them to feel safe enough to start living their lives how they wanted. But I couldn’t help…”

“Falling?” Judy raised an eyebrow, her smile kind and sincere. 

“Yeah, more like I hurtled myself off the cliff of no return,” Y/N joked, thoughts going to Seokjin, who sent her off that morning with dozens of kisses peppered across her cheeks. She thought of Yoongi, who got up extra early to make more chicken for her lunch. How Taehyung would snap pictures of her when she wasn’t looking, Namjoon’s thoughtful nightly book recommendations. 

“Good to know that my readings are still accurate,” Judy was amused, placing another crystal on the table with a chuckle. “That’s why you’ve been so chipper these days. A couple of months ago you seemed very stressed out.”

“I’m still figuring things out. Two of them reciprocate my feelings, so far,” Y/N mumbled quietly, somehow finding it nice to confide in her boss. Her mother would be way too excited to talk about her and the boys. 

“Is one of them part of our new investigation team?” Judy got to her feet, dusting off her maxi skirt. “That wolf hybrid seemed quite protective of you that day you brought him here in August.”

Y/N blinked, thinking back to that day– it was the first day she even spoke to Namjoon, the day she brought him home. She shook her head quickly, a pang in her chest, remembering his stoic indifference towards her relationships with Yoongi and Seokjin. 

“No, he’s not one of them,” she replied, Judy chuckling once again. 

“Stubborn, I remember that from the card I pulled for him.”

“Oh, not to change the subject, but speaking of Namjoon– my wolf hybrid, I mean,” Y/N joined Judy at the counter with the empty cardboard box from the kitchen, chewing her lip. “He’s interested in coming to work with me a few times a week. Would it be okay if I bring him next time I’m here?”

Judy helped her break down the cardboard box, nodding enthusiastically. 

“That would be wonderful! We won’t have to haul in these crystal boxes anymore and break our backs. I take it he’s interested in your practice?”

“I think he just likes to get out of the house, and he’s a big reader. Honestly it’s our book collection here that interests him, most likely,” Y/N glanced at her watch, noting that it was time for her lunch break, mouth watering at the thought of Yoongi’s chicken. “He’ll be happy you said yes, thank you so much!”

Judy waved her off like ‘no problem’ heading to the back room. Typically, around lunch, Judy would leave Y/N at the shop and head home if she had no scheduled readings. According to the books, there was no one scheduled for services, so it was likely Judy was on her way out and Y/N would have to lock up later. Humming as she unpacked her lunch, she shot Namjoon a text. 

Y/N: Judy says you can come to work with me whenever you want! 🥳

Joonie 🐺: Thanks for asking, I’ll come with you next week.

Namjoon wasn’t much of a texter, so she left it at that, grinning at her lockscreen as she closed it. She tended to rotate wallpapers, but currently, it was the picture of Jimin and Seokjin laughing at Hoseok being chased around by Bandit the rooster. Every time she saw it, it made her snort, her heart warming. Y/N flinched when she got a notification from her banking app, her direct deposit hitting her admittedly semi-drained account. Sighing with relief, as she had spent quite a bit of money on Hoseok’s upcoming birthday, she thought it was all worth it when she glanced at his smiling face on her lockscreen. 

“We should go on a date,” Seokjin had his arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she was folding some laundry in her room, his tail winding around her leg and lips in her ear. She dropped the tank top she was holding in surprise, craning her neck so she could look at him. 

“You wanna take me on a date, Seokjinnie?” Y/N cooed, prodding at his cheek teasingly. “Where do you want to go, honey?”

Seokjin pursed his lips as he thought, nestling his chin in the crook of her neck. Nearly swooning at how affectionate he had become in just two days, she felt his steady heartbeat flush against her back. 

“We don’t even have to go anywhere, pretty. We can stay here, just do something special, the two of us,” Seokjin replied, her cheeks aflame when he called her pretty, but Y/N was reminded of Seokjin’s slight distaste for traveling, so she got what he was trying to say. 

“I like the sound of that,” Y/N resumed folding her tank top, already cooking up some ideas for an at-home date for the two of them. “How about next Friday, the 24th. I’ll plan something for the two of us, okay?”

“Mmm,” Seokjin agreed, kissing her temple, regretfully pulling away from her and reaching for the laundry basket to help her out. “Only if you let me plan some things of my own for that night.”

“Of course, love,” Y/N giggled, but her laughter was cut short once she glanced at the jaguar hybrid, who was currently folding a pair of her lacy panties. “Oh my god. Let me fold that!”

Snatching the thong away from him, Y/N wanted to throw up from humiliation, but all Seokjin did was snort, retrieving another pair of panties from the laundry basket– to her mortification. 

“You’re acting like I’ve never seen these before. Pretty, don’t you know that we’ve all been folding your underwear for months each time we have laundry duty?” Seokjin was ever so nonchalant, Y/N stupidly realizing that her panties didn’t magically appear in her dresser, when she wasn’t the one to pull them out of the dryer. 

“Oh my god,” Y/N face-planted into her mattress, the realization like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

 She pictured smug Jeongguk in the laundry room, hanging up one of her skimpy bralettes, or worse, utility-grade sports bras on the drying rack, nearly curling into herself in shame. Seokjin patted her back, barely containing his laughter, but all that did was make Y/N want to hide in a hole even more. 

“Y/N, you wash our underwear every week, fold it, too. You bought us underwear, you know what they look like. Don’t be so embarrassed,” Seokjin hauled Y/N up by her elbows, clear humor written all over his face, Y/N unsure whether or not she enjoyed it when he teased her so much. “Ooh. I like these ones.”

Seokjin dangled a pair of baby pink panties in front of her face with his forefinger and thumb, the pair with a tiny bow on the waistline, the fabric a mixture of cotton and lace. Absolutely scandalized, Y/N felt both involuntary arousal and annoyance strike through her. 

“Okay, now you’re fucking with me,” Y/N bat his hand out of her face, Seokjin’s squeaky laughter filling the room noisily. “Don’t be pervy, Seokjin. It doesn’t suit you!”

“Oh, no?” Seokjin cocked his head, his sleek black ears fluttering as his expression turned sly. “Shame…”

Y/N swore Seokjin’s eyes darkened, and she wondered what he meant by that, hurriedly grabbing her underwear from him and stuffing the garment into her dresser. She heard Seokjin snicker, but he mercifully stopped teasing her, moving on to fold a pair of her pajamas instead, biting his lip. 

“Um, so what should we have for dinner tonight?” Y/N changed the subject, trying to block out sudden lewd thoughts surrounding her and Seokjin, her movements jittery. 

Seokjin looked like he wanted her for dinner that night, but he managed to compose himself with his gorgeous smile, tucking her pajamas into her drawer beside her. She mentally dared him to make the innuendo that was no doubt floating around his head, but Seokjin didn’t– Y/N hardly knew if she was relieved or disappointed. 

“Well, we got those steaks in the fridge Yoongi picked up from the butcher’s shop. Didn’t you show me a recipe for steak with some kind of bourbon sauce?” 

“Oh, yeah, I could go for that,” Y/N’s mouth watered, already picturing her plate filled with meat, smashed potatoes, and maybe some crispy green beans. 

Seokjin purred, closing up her dresser. Turning, Seokjin reached for her chin, Y/N’s heart pounding harshly in her chest, the jaguar hybrid looking down at her through his eyelashes. Tilting her face up, Seokjin’s hold on her firm but delicate, and involuntarily, her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips while Seokjin’s eyes narrowed as he followed the movement. She was staring at his mouth in a daze, saying huh when he spoke again, not hearing him the first time. 

“I said, pretty,” Seokjin’s thumb pressed on her lower lip, his voice lilting and spellbinding like a siren. “If we make that, take it easy on the bourbon, okay? You got sick last time Jimin brought out the whiskey.”

“I forgot about that,” Y/N responded quietly, blush settling over her cheeks when she remembered how Seokjin had to hold her hair back while she spilled her guts into the toilet after one glass, his free hand soothingly rubbing her back when she heaved over the porcelain bowl. “Emb-barassing. At least you still loved me after that, hurling and crying hysterically… what a mess.”

“Hmm…” Seokjin strengthened the hold he had on her chin, his expression a combination of playfulness and reapproach, making her gut tighten. “What do you humans say when you get married? ‘In sickness and in health’?”

Jaw hanging loose, still not used to how deeply Seokjin felt for her, and she was at a loss as to what to say. Appearing smug, Seokjin kissed her forehead softly, continuing to speak when she had no reply. 

“Remember, you took care of my fever when you adopted me? I was returning that gesture!”

“I love you,” was all Y/N could think of in response, feeling his tail wind around her waist sensually, Y/N leaning forward and up, capturing his lips in a surprise kiss, Seokjin freezing for a moment before he parted his mouth slightly, kissing her lower lip sweetly. 

Seokjin had yet to kiss her in a way that was, well, more heated, but she loved the chaste, adoring kisses that he did offer her infinitely. She whimpered against his mouth when one of his hands landed on her lower back, pulling her closer into his embrace. Seokjin made his own noise of pleasure in response, one that had her stomach flipping over. Before she could deepen their kiss, like always, Seokjin pulled away, his pillowy lips shiny and red. Releasing the hold she had on him– fists curled into the material of his sweater, she pouted at the loss of contact, but Seokjin simply snorted through his nose and shook his head, his eyes sparkling. 

“Let’s go, we still have to switch over the laundry before starting on dinner,” Seokjin let go of her, Y/N blinking away her desire, her pout growing deeper. 

“Ugh, my muscles are sore. I don’t wanna go back upstairs,” Y/N complained, watching Seokjin scoop up the empty laundry basket, his face becoming contemplative as he assessed her, before he set the basket down again. “Judy had me schlepping in 30 pound boxes of crystals into the store all week.”

“Here, then,” Seokjin turned, bending slightly, motioning for her to get on his back with a cheeky grin. “I’ll carry you up.”

Normally, Y/N would have been embarrassed to take Seokjin up on the offer, but childlike glee welled up in herself instead– not even hesitating to jump on him with a giggle. Seokjin straightened up, adjusting his steady hold around the backs of her knees, giving her a piggyback ride up the stairs to the laundry room happily. Arms draped around her jaguar hybrid’s neck, elated, she indulged in a desire she had been holding onto for months– and planted a kiss on the side of his strong neck, Seokjin shivering beneath her. 

Y/N watched Jeongguk lift a heavy box of gadgets into Namjoon’s van, the elk hybrid grunting with the weight of it, Y/N clicking her tongue at him. It may had had been a mistake to give him a bottomless budget to go crazy on ordering equipment, because he had enough of it to film an episode of Ghost Adventures and put Zak Bagans to shame. She supposed, however, that it made him happy and less bratty, and with just two days until the scheduled investigation, she noticed the elated difference in Jeongguk’s attitude.   

“So,” Y/N began, hoping that the fact that he had a brand new set of electronics to mess with would loosen him up. “Hoseok’s birthday tonight. We’re all going to go out together, right?”

“Do I really have to spend the evening in a sweaty nightclub with a bunch of drunk and horny humans?” Jeongguk peered over his shoulder with a grimace, scratching one of his tapered ears. 

“I spent almost a grand on a fucking table for eight, so yeah, you need to suck it up and put your leather pants on,” Y/N snapped, Jeongguk spinning around and staring at her with shock and contempt. “Seokjin doesn’t like loud noises or crowds and he still agreed to go for Hoseok.”

“Jesus wept, fine,” Jeongguk put his hands up, dark eyes round. 

“You’ll have fun. Get wasted and listen to music, two of your favorite things to do,” Y/N soothed, smirking. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, returning to his task, fiddling with some kind of EMF detector that probably burnt a hole into her already slimmed-down wallet. “Where’s Joon?”

“Am I the wolf’s keeper or something?” Jeongguk raised his pierced brow, leaning his hip against the van and humming at the growing annoyance Y/N was feeling towards him. “Check the stable, he wanted to go for a walk, mentioned needing to talk to the coyote. Satisfied, kiddo?”

Muttering, she stormed away from him, peeved that he was laughing heartily at her tantrum. She wanted to similarly check in on Namjoon, who had yet to give a response to the idea of taking a limo and spending their Saturday night in a club for Hoseok. Positive that Namjoon had never stepped foot in a place like the club she had booked, she wanted to show him a few pictures so he’d have an idea of what he’d be walking into. 

A couple of weeks prior, she cornered Hoseok, hugging him around his waist and refusing to let go until he picked out what he wanted to do for his birthday. Finally, he agreed to go out to the club, his cheeks red with embarrassment, but Y/N was relieved he told her so she could book a table in advance. The fox hybrid, the morning of his birthday, went out for his long-distance Saturday run, so she didn’t get to see much of him during the afternoon. No doubt, before they left, Hoseok would spend quite a bit of time getting showered and dressed for the occasion. 

Wrapping her coat more tightly around her body, she had the stable in sight, the sound of chickens clucking within their coop, a layer of snow collected on the roof of the building. It was likely that Namjoon and Jimin heard and smelled her approach, but she hoped that she caught them off-guard, secretly. Those two particular hybrids were friendly towards each other, but it struck her as odd that Namjoon would have something in specific to discuss with the coyote hybrid. 

Pausing by the stable door and peering around it cautiously, she spotted Jimin kneeling besides what appeared to be the early stages of the garden bed constructions, sawdust covering his jeans while he pointed at something. Neither of them glanced her way, Namjoon standing with his back to her, his arms crossed over his chest. Straining her ears, she was able to eavesdrop, astounded that neither of them caught her scent yet. 

“–yeah, this smaller one here is for herbs, if that’s what you mean,” Jimin was saying, his sandy tail swishing against the ground. 

“Do you think it’s big enough?” Namjoon had skepticism painting his tone. 

“Why, you don’t think so? Y/N wanted a small one for cooking herbs,” Jimin was chewing on his lip, light eyebrows pulled together. 

“Can you do another medium-sized one? I’ve been doing some research on the types of herbs she’d be able to grow during the summer in this area, there’s quite a few. That way she’ll have a bigger variety for her practice, and we can keep the culinary herbs separate,” Namjoon requested, Y/N clasping a hand over her mouth, blown away that Namjoon would do something so nice for her without her knowing. 

“Yeah, I can do that, I have enough extra plywood,” Jimin seemed just as stunned as Y/N, his yellow eyes wide, straightening up and sticking his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “You’re going tonight, right?”

“You think I’m going to let Y/N waltz into a nightclub without me? Human men are fucking disgusting. She needs us all,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N feeling like her head was swimming. “Besides the humans, drugging and assaulting each other, Hoseok is going to cut loose, so will some of the others, so it’s important someone stays relatively sober. That’s why I’m mad at the kid right now, not wanting to tag along.”

“You mean Jeongguk? I think he’ll go, too. He seems like a tough son of a bitch, but he thinks similarly to you. Isn’t that why you’re close? Isn’t that why he was the only one able to calm you down… that night?” 

Namjoon’s chest rumbled, his ears turning downwards at the mention of the night he and Taehyung had their altercation. 

“I don’t like to think of that night,” Namjoon replied quietly, the constant sway of his tail stilling somberly. “Regardless, I don’t give a shit how Jeongguk feels, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his antlers to the club. He’s going.”

“Y/N spent a lot of money on Hoseok for this,” Jimin scratched his chin sympathetically, strolling to the stack of plywood, his steel-toed boots echoing around the lofty stable. “If he doesn’t go, he’ll make a lot of new enemies around here.”

“Dramatic phrasing,” Namjoon snickered, though as he moved for the first time Y/N had been spying on them, his mouth was in a thin line, evidently agreeing with Jimin. “I wouldn’t say enemies, but between Yoongi, the bear, and Seokjin, grudges would be made.”

Jimin made a noncommittal noise of agreement, Y/N beginning to feel guilty for eavesdropping, and her head was about to explode from the apparent concern Namjoon and Jimin had for her. Y/N was so wrapped up in her own feelings and care for the boys, she forgot to realize that they might hold her well-being in high regard as well. 

Backing up a few steps as quietly as she could, she made some clumsy human noises, skipping into the stable like she hadn’t heard anything. She was proud of herself for not giving herself away with a lovestruck look plastered on her face, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end when she barreled into the building, the tips of his ears turning red. 

“Hi guys, whatcha up to?” Y/N asked innocently, Jimin blinking and dropping the piece of plywood he was holding. 

“Just talking about the garden beds,” Namjoon recovered smoothly, in stark contrast to Jimin’s attempts to seem nonchalant. “What time are we leaving tonight?”

“Ooh, Joonie, you’re going to come?” Y/N continued to play stupid, leaning on one of the empty horse stalls, one that Jimin kept a surplus of hay in. “I think we’ll leave around 9:30. The club doesn’t open until 10 anyways. Jimin, you’ll come too, sweetheart?”

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink, nervously brushing sawdust from his jeans, nodding. It was somewhat hilarious to watch the two of them pretend they weren’t just talking about her, and Y/N wasn’t about to embarrass them by revealing she had been listening on, so she feigned normalcy by picking imaginary lint off of her pink sherpa coat.  

“Of course, Y/N,” Jimin blurted, using the toe of his boot to push the plywood he dropped away, one hand gliding through his golden hair. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

Thankfully, once Y/N was able to find Jimin after Seokjin’s declaration the following day when she came home from work, the coyote hybrid had acted totally normal. Having a sneaking suspicion that like Taehyung, and even Seokjin himself, Jimin was a little bit avoidant, she decided if he was going to pretend nothing was different, so would she.

“How are we getting there?” Namjoon cleared his throat, stalking up to her side. 

“I ordered a limo. Just about the only vehicle that can get us somewhere all together,” Y/N smirked, Namjoon cocking his head in confusion. Often, she forgot Namjoon wasn’t familiar with things like that. “It’s like a shorter, longer version of your van, kind of. Bench seats and a fridge filled with champagne, and the driver is separated by a partition.”

“Flashy,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N flicking off a clump of hay clinging to his forearm. “Matches the fox’s personality, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah. There’s a dress code, I figured you two should know that– no athletic wear. Just basic slacks and a nice shirt, essentially.”

“That eliminates half of Hoseok’s wardrobe,” Jimin piped up, his ears twitching when Y/N giggled. 

“Yeah, but he cleans up well,” Y/N could hardly wait to see what Hoseok would pull out of his closet– she had zero doubts he’d look drop dead sexy. “Alright, good. Everyone’s on board! I’m gonna go shower and scrounge up something for dinner later.”

“Dress warmly, the temperature is going to drop later,” Namjoon called after her, a frown on his face. 

“Can’t make any promises, Joonie,” Y/N sent a wink his way, missing the low growl rumbling through his chest, picturing the dress she had bought for the very occasion and sashaying away. 

“She’s going to do as she pleases, isn’t she,” Namjoon muttered to Jimin, who was eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked, but the wolf hybrid had a wry smile stretching across his face. 

Y/N took the opportunity of going out for Hoseok’s birthday to pull out all the stops appearance-wise, and she had to admit to herself, she was doing too well at it. Her makeup was dark and sultry, hair done to utter perfection, and the dress. She saw a picture of it online and bought it so fast she thought her computer was going to catch on fire. Taking a look at herself in the full-length mirror, she admired how lethal her figure looked in the short bodycon dress, legs on display, the off-the-shoulder cut of the neckline showing off the choker Namjoon gave her for Christmas. She was in the middle of strapping her heels around her ankles when a knock came on her door tentatively. Y/N guessed it might have been Taehyung, due to the hesitant sound of the knuckles against the wood. 

Heels clicking against the hardwood, she reached the door, taking a deep breath, nervously wondering what Taehyung would think of her outfit– she had never worn something so revealing around the boys and it had her hands shaking on the doorknob. Throwing it open, Taehyung’s sandalwood cologne hit her smack in the face, his carmine eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he saw her. Unable to help himself, his gaze lowered, staring at the way the material of her dress clung to every curve, his lips parting. 

“What’s up, Tae?” Y/N blurted, dazzled by his appearance, his dark curls pushed off of his forehead, a silky white button-down with pearls making up the buttons, and straight-leg slacks. Her eyes lingered on the thin gold chain around his throat, her gift to him from Christmas, too bashful to make eye contact all of a sudden. 

“The… the car, the car’s here,” Taehyung was dazed, eyes glued to her legs, Y/N’s mouth drying up. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Uh, yeah, why? You don’t like it?” Y/N felt her face fall, Taehyung’s throat bobbing when he swallowed urgently, shaking his head. 

“N-no, it’s fine,” Taehyung’s strained voice had color pooling in her cheeks, blindly reaching behind her so she could grab her clutch. “I’ll get your coat.”

Taehyung darted away, smoke pretty much coming off of his heels, leaving Y/N stunned. Perhaps she had gone a tad overboard with the sexy dress. That aside, his reaction had hope blooming in her chest; if that was his heated reaction to the way she looked, could it be possible that had at least a semblance of an attraction towards her? Squaring her shoulders at the thought, she marched out into the hall confidently, and when she reached the foyer, most of her boys were hanging out around the stairwell, except for Taehyung, who appeared to be fishing around in the coat closet with stiff posture. 

Similar to how they reacted at the cookout when she came out in her sundress, silence swept over the room with her arrival. Jimin’s face was so red she could probably fry an egg on one of his cheeks. Even usually-composed Yoongi’s eyes had gone round, dropping the sports jacket he was holding. Giving her a once over, licking his lips, Yoongi chuckled softly and shook his head. 

“Ready to go? Where’s Hoseok?” Y/N was hoping she wasn’t reading smug, Seokjin frowning when he poked his head around Jeongguk’s frame, heat in his gaze but disapproval mixing with it. 

“Getting shit from the kitchen,” Jeongguk answered blandly, picking his nails. He tried to be nonchalant, but she caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. 

“Y/N, it’s really cold outside,” Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her bare legs, adjusting the collar of his black oxford shirt, a few of the buttons undone. 

“I know, that’s why my arms are covered,” retorted, gesturing to the long sleeves of the dress. “We won’t be outside for long, anyways, and it gets hot in those clubs.”

Seokjin was entirely unconvinced, watching Taehyung emerge from the coat closet, handing Y/N her longest, thickest coat, barely looking at her while she snickered at his selection. Shrugging it on, aware of all of the attention on herself– and for once, she enjoyed it thoroughly. 

“Alright! Got the champagne! Y/N darling, shall we?” Hoseok waltzed in from the kitchen looking all kinds of delicious, in a white suit and a blue silky shirt, a bottle of Moet in one of his hands, using a free one to hook around her elbow and tow her to the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up, wolf!”

Namjoon, waiting by the door, eyeing Y/N’s neck and the choker encircling it, jingled the keys to the house in his fist, and waited for everyone to follow her and Hoseok to the limo waiting outside before he locked up. 

Yoongi made it to her free side with a smirk on his face, Y/N admiring the way he styled his long hair. Hoseok was the first one inside of the limo while Yoongi held Y/N’s hand as she slid in herself, brushing a kiss on the back of it. 

“You look gorgeous,” Yoongi said proudly, sitting beside her, Y/N nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Gonna have to keep my eye on you tonight.”

Hoseok had brought their portable speaker, already jacking up the volume on a rap playlist, grinning wickedly as the rest of the hybrids climbed into the limo. Jeongguk had to pay particular attention to his antlers so he wouldn’t knock them against the ceiling, slouching low on the bench he was on. It was hard not to laugh at his grouchiness as he held onto a champagne flute with a fist, though his saving grace were the leather pants he did indeed put on, highlighting his muscular thighs. 

Last one into the limo was Namjoon, cramming himself in between Jeongguk and Seokjin, the latter of which was directly across from Y/N, his expression more feline than ever, Y/N squirming in her seat under the weight of his gaze. To distract herself, she turned to Hoseok, clinking her glass with his, the fox hybrid pinching her cheek happily. 

“Happy birthday Hoseok!” Y/N cheered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a brief side-hug, careful to not spill her drink on his crisp white sports jacket when the limo started to pull out of the driveway. 

Leaning into her playfully, Hoseok turned up the speaker even louder, Y/N enjoying watching her hybrids loosen up, champagne in hands, and looking forward to a new experience. With Seokjin looking at her like that, however, she didn’t know if she’d make it through the night without pushing him against a wall. 

Music pulsing from the speakers, Y/N already armed with a cocktail, she once again thought that the hefty price tag on the table she bought was worth it when she sunk into the cushy booth with satisfaction. The club, called “The Grand Boston”, was decorated lavishly, had an enormous bar, and was lit up brilliantly. Besides her own hybrids, several of which were ordering drinks at the bar, Y/N was surprised to see others milling around with their humans, which was relieving– not as many eyes on her and the fact that she had seven of them with her. 

“Wanna order a bottle? They have Casamigos, your favorite,” Y/N spoke loudly over the music to her fox hybrid, who was in the middle of taking a shot, his face screwing up as he shoved a lime between his teeth. 

“Nah, they jack up the prices, we can just get a few rounds of shots,” Hoseok replied after a moment, smirking at Jimin sliding into the booth, tumbler of whiskey in his hand. 

“I mean, we might as well get bottle service, Foxy. It’s your birthday and we have this table,” Y/N rolled her eyes, flagging down someone to order the liquor. 

“Oooh, pulling out all the stops for me?” Hoseok teased, flashing her a stunning smile, motioning for Seokjin to join them when the jaguar hybrid returned from the bar with his cocktail, and due to the warm temperature of the club, he had pulled another button loose on his shirt.

With more of his collar bones exposed, Y/N’s mouth involuntarily watered, and to cover it up she immediately poured herself a shot and downed it expertly. Somehow, she felt bad that she was having such thirsty thoughts about sweet Seokjin. Completely oblivious, he placed his arm around her shoulders, offering her a sip of the Moscow mule, angling the black straw to her lips. Then again, the spark in his eye as her lips wrapped around the straw told a different story, one that had the blood boiling in her veins. 

“Um, the others?” Y/N broke the trance she was in, addressing Jimin. She could see Jeongguk by the bar, forearms leaning against the counter, Namjoon beside him, both of them in deep conversation that probably surrounded their upcoming investigation on Monday. 

“They’re around. Don’t worry, Y/N, they won’t leave without you,” Jimin read her mind, knocking back his drink and watching people head towards the dance floor. 

“Alright. Plan is to get wasted and go dance,” Hoseok began lining up shots, Seokjin snorting beside her. “Don’t laugh at me on my birthday, Jinnie. Here. Cheers!”

Y/N watched, praying she wasn’t being creepy, as Seokjin sprinkled salt on the back of his hand, swiping his tongue over the skin, before he hastily took the shot of tequila with a wince, Y/N hurriedly handing him a lime to suck on. 

After a couple of rounds of shots, Y/N already feeling the liquor loosen her up and ready to dance, Yoongi joined them with his glass of Hennessy, refusing to touch the Casamigos. 

“I can’t do tequila, Foxy. Makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach,” Yoongi frowned when Hoseok slid the shot glass towards him, Seokjin taking it instead. Jimin, at least, participated, his face getting redder by the minute with all the booze. 

“Come on, let’s dance,” Y/N stood, miraculously stable on her heels, hands extended for someone, anyone, to take them, and at once, Hoseok leapt to his feet, palm sliding into hers, motioning for Seokjin to take her free one. 

Seokjin got up, somehow handling all of the tequila incredibly well, Y/N giggling as her fox and jaguar hybrids began to lead her to the dance floor. 

“I’ll stay here and watch,” Yoongi’s sly expression ticked her off, giving her a once-over from behind his glass. Jimin was off to the bathroom and to refresh his whiskey, Y/N thinking it was likely his last round before he totally blacked out. 

Led by Hoseok, who had long since ditched his sports jacket, they weaved through the crowd, Y/N suddenly remembered Seokjin’s aversion to seas of people. Casting him a worried look over her shoulder, Seokjin mouthed ‘I’m fine’, the grip he had on her left hand tightening. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, an extremely sparkly dress a young woman was wearing. 

Trying to get a better look at the shimmering fabric, she paused– the woman was apparently flirting with someone, someone Y/N recognized immediately even if it was just the back of his head. Taehyung, who she hadn’t seen since they stopped by the coat check, was talking to a random girl, something that Y/N assumed the Kodiak hybrid would be way too shy to do. Mouth hanging open, drunken jealousy surging through her as she realized Taehyung could sense her presence via scent  and didn’t even turn to look at her, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he responded to something the woman said. Again, Seokjin squeezed her hand, spinning the two of them slightly so their backs were to Taehyung, Y/N grateful for Seokjin’s keen perceptivity and consideration. 

Facing Hoseok, who finally found a good place in the center of the club, far enough away from the speakers that would blow their eardrums out, Y/N shook away remaining jealousy and focused on the fox hybrid instead, who was doing some kind of silly dance to get her attention. The little number he was doing was in stark contrast to how sexy he looked, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, eyes slightly lidded from the shots, ears drooping. 

“Let’s see what you two got,” Hoseok shouted over the music, and Y/N would have been hesitant if it weren’t for the tequila, but she found herself mirroring Hoseok’s swaying movements, a confident smile on his face. “Come on, Jinnie, weren’t you an acrobat? You must have some moves!”

Y/N shuddered when Seokjin’s chest was suddenly pressed to her back, simply holding her hips while she rolled them, her cheeks on fire while Hoseok cackled, clocking the fluster all over Y/N’s face. It was then, she decided fuck it, both presssing her hips backwards into Seokjin and pulling Hoseok to her by the collar of his shirt, winding her arms around his neck. Seokjin grunted deeply into her ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, while all smug attitude was knocked out of Hoseok in a blink. 

“Out of wisecracks? Dance with me,” Y/N challenged, something flashing dangerously in the fox hybrid’s eyes before his hands were on her waist, copying the movements she made, but careful not to collide his hips into hers. 

Ben always used to warn her to stay away from the tequila, as she tended to get frisky with a few shots of it coursing through her system, but she didn’t care that night. Not when Seokjin’s grip on her hips was firm, letting her essentially grind backwards into him, and Hoseok was looking at her differently for the first time, the way he moved graceful and precise. The world seemed to fall away into neon lights, hypnotic music, and the two hybrids that she was sandwiched between, Y/N really letting loose by letting her head loll back onto Seokjin’s chest, eyes slipping shut. She was too tipsy to be embarrassed about her behavior, and judging by the dark purrs from behind her and the mirth returning to her fox hybrid’s eyes, the two of them were freely enjoying themselves as well. 

“Wanna take another shot,” Y/N murmured after a while, pouting when Hoseok pulled away in favor of watching the light show, his tail swishing, though Seokjin still held her to his chest, his nose tucked into the base of her throat. 

“I think you’re good, pretty,” Seokjin replied, squeezing her hips and turning her around, his palms gliding up to cup her waist, the thin material of her dress doing nothing to hide her shape nor the way his touch burned her deliciously. “Don’t want to overdo it now, right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning up, stamping a kiss on his exposed collarbone in hopes that it would butter him up. His skin was dewy with sweat, Y/N wanting to eat him alive, but she released her hold of his wide shoulders so she could make her way back to the table, and further, the bottle. 

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice had a sharpened edge of warning to it, following closely behind, navigating through the tipsy crowd. Fortunately, she didn’t come across Taehyung and that girl, but when she remembered the interaction, it only strengthened her desire to hightail it to the table. 

“Judas priest, kiddo,” Jeongguk was lazily reclined in the booth, his feet kicked up on one of the tables like he owned the joint, eyes roaming over her flushed skin, mussed hair, and the scent of alcohol coming off of her like a bar floor. “That’s not a good idea–”

Before any of the hybrids could get to her, including Yoongi who lurched forward to snatch the shot glass away and Jimin’s noises of alarm, Y/N had already poured the shot down her throat, not even feeling the burn of the liquor, batting Yoongi’s hands away when he tried to take the glass. 

“Alright, sweetheart, that’s enough,” Yoongi scolded, pushing the bottle of tequila towards Jimin, who swiftly tucked it behind him with a worried look. “You’re going to be sick tomorrow.”

“So? I’m celebrating!” Y/N frowned, booping Yoongi’s nose. She wasn’t even slurring, for Christ’s sake, and she could still walk in her heels perfectly. “You’re all being worrywarts, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you sit for a minute, I’ll have the server bring some snacks around,” Yoongi maneuvered Y/N into the booth, her grumbling the entire time, squirming next to Jeongguk. Seokjin went with Yoongi, both of them moving urgently. 

“Fussy babies,” Y/N muttered, scanning the room for Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung, crossing her legs and massaging her sore ankles. “I can hold my liquor.”

“Sometimes,” Jeongguk replied sarcastically, barely looking up from his phone, his fingertips flying over the keyboard. “It’s almost 2 AM. We should go soon, before the club closes.”

“Aw, but did you even get to dance? How about you, Jimin?” Y/N lamented, Hoseok returning from the dance floor, sweat slicking up his forehead when he pushed his damp hair back, a swagger in his step. 

“Do I look like I dance, kiddo?” Jeongguk scoffed, draining his glass, setting his phone aside. “Time to head out, fox.”

“Yeah, the crowd is dwindling anyways. I’m ready to raid the fridge and pass out,” Hoseok grabbed his jacket that was slung over the booth, Jimin excusing himself to pay the tab and look for Taehyung. 

“We can have some of your birthday cake!” Y/N exclaimed, suddenly less disappointed about going home if it meant she could have something sugary. “Awh, where’s Joon bug? He’ll want some cake too, I wanna tell him!”

“12 ‘o clock, darling,” Hoseok pointed beyond her shoulder, Namjoon trudging back to the booth with his jean jacket pulled around him, Y/N’s coat in his hands. Surprisingly, he seemed like the most sober of the bunch, offering her her coat with purpose. 

“I talked to the driver outside, he’s ready when we are,” Namjoon announced, Y/N struggling to shrug her coat on while sitting down, Jeongguk clicking his tongue and helping her right arm through the sleeve. 

“What about Tae, though?” To her embarrassment, Y/N’s head began to feel like it was floating, that last shot definitely a mistake like Jeongguk had said, as much as she hated to admit it. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she barely reacted when Yoongi dropped a bag of mini pretzels in her lap, stomach turning at the thought of chewing. 

“Already outside, Y/N. Can you walk?” Namjoon made a motion for the rest of the hybrids to start heading towards the door with authority, Seokjin kissing the top of her head before he made sure Hoseok was going in the right direction. 

“Yesss, I can walk, Joonie,” Y/N grouched, hauling herself to her feet, but unfortunately, her knees buckled. Cursing, Namjoon caught her swiftly before she could collapse on the floor, strong arms supporting her weight, Y/N limp. 

“That’s a no, then,” Namjoon sighed, bending his knees, slinging Y/N over his shoulder in one smooth movement. Y/N squealed, scrabbling for a hold on the back of his jacket and staring at the floor, thankfully not getting violently nauseous as her world was turned upside-down and the wolf hybrid started walking. “Thank god I’m here. I hope you didn’t party like this in college, Y/N, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m currently b-breathing, aren’t I, Joon? Put me down, I’m embarrassed,” Y/N whined, whacking his back with her palms. Namjoon, however, was known to be unyielding. He promptly ignored her complaints, her strikes against his muscled back useless and truthfully, pathetic. 

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those shoes. Your ankles are swelling,” Namjoon grunted, her heated face meeting some relief in the icy night air, the sounds of drunk clubgoers up and down the sidewalk. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“And you’re not, Namjoon?” Y/N squawked, astonished. However, Namjoon chuckled quietly, finally setting her down in front of the waiting limo, one broad palm on her lower back to help keep her upright while climbing in. 

“Never claimed I wasn’t,” Namjoon replied offhand, clambering in behind her, the rest of the boys in various states of intoxication and exhaustion. “Are there sick bags in here?” 

Namjoon was speaking to Yoongi, who was apparently the only one sober enough to have spatial awareness, even Jeongguk nodding off in the far end of the limo, the leopard hybrid waving a paper bag in front of Namjoon’s face. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were cracking open another bottle of champagne, while Taehyung was busy on his phone, presumably texting; Y/N dreaded to know exactly who. 

“I’m not going to get sick, dad,” Y/N poked Namjoon in the bicep, peeved, the wolf hybrid choking on the sip of water he had taken, his fist pounding on his chest to clear the liquid from his lungs. Not expecting that reaction, Y/N felt laughter bubbling up in her throat, poking him again before setting her sights on Yoongi.

“What’s with that look?” Yoongi asked suspiciously, Y/N biting her lip, clumsily pouncing on him, sitting on one of his thighs and giving him a sloppy smooch on his cheek. “Oh boy. No more Casamigos for you, ever.”

“Angel, my feet hurt,” Y/N’s vision was fuzzy, supported by Yoongi’s arm around her back, the leopard hybrid letting her bury her face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar sweet scent, his tail caressing her bare calves.

Without asking, Yoongi exhaled, gripping one of her ankles gingerly and unfastening the straps around them. Easing each shoe off her foot as carefully as he could, Yoongi placed them in between him and Taehyung, who paused his texting to assess the spectacle. The Kodiak hybrid’s eyes lingered on the way Yoongi was prodding lightly around her swelling ankles to release pressure, but when he caught Y/N staring back at him, he returned to his phone with his tongue in his cheek. 

Petulance took over, so instead of letting Taehyung’s iciness bother her, she focused on Yoongi’s touch, sighing blissfully, his talented hands kneading into her sore muscles, purring softly behind her. She was half asleep when something dawned on her, shooting straight up from Yoongi’s lap with an exclamation, looking around frantically for her clutch. 

“Looking for this?” Namjoon held it up, his eyebrows raised, sucking in his cheeks. 

Making grabby hands for it, Y/N thanked him quietly for keeping an eye on all of her things, before she clumsily maneuvered to the back of the limo where Hoseok was. Jeongguk was still drowsily trying to stay awake, his head bobbing, but Jimin had passed out finally. Hoseok and Seokjin switched to water, luckily, so when she took a seat beside her fox hybrid, he was a touch more sober than he was 15 minutes prior.

“How are you doing, darling?” Hoseok’s face was rounded out in sleep, content all over it.

“I forgot to give you this,” Y/N began digging around in her clutch, Hoseok sitting up a bit straighter and making a strange, fox-like noise in the back of his throat. “Seokjinnie got you something, remember, Jin?”

Seokjin had also apparently forgotten, blinking harshly. Finding the item at the bottom of the clutch, a tiny rectangular box, she opened it, handing Hoseok a silver bracelet, the chain link the exact same as the one Seokjin had on his ring. Seokjin had the adorable idea of getting them something that matched in some way, and Y/N had no problems letting the jaguar hybrid pick it out. 

Hoseok was at a loss, holding the bracelet with his mouth open, Y/N stifling a laugh at his reaction. Seokjin shifted in his seat across from them, amused but also vulnerable. 

“Jinnie, is this like a friendship bracelet?” Hoseok deadpanned, radiant joy coming off of him. 

“Uh-huh. Happy birthday,” Seokjin broke out in a grin, Y/N’s heart warm with how sweet their close friendship was, Hoseok demanding the jaguar hybrid to clasp it around his wrist. “You two mean a lot to me.”

“Aw, Jinnie, you’re like my big brother,” Hoseok cooed, Seokjin rolling his eyes, but Y/N knew how profound those words were to Hoseok. The fox hybrid spent years in many places, never able to put down roots, much less make close friendships. “And you’re my little darling.”

Hoseok grabbed both of them, smushing themselves together for a group hug, Y/N finally releasing a hearty laugh that startled Jimin awake beside her, knowing that the tears slipping down her cheeks were tears of happiness.

After a brutal Sunday of recovering from the tequila binge, Y/N spending most of the day laying on the couch and watching reality TV with greasy pizza, she was well again on Monday, the day of the investigation. She had to drag Jeongguk to work with her that day, Namjoon of course itching to go without complaint. It was nice to have the two of them with her while she stocked inventory, Namjoon able to reach higher shelves and Jeongguk sorting through the Christian medallions in a way that made sense. While those two were more quiet than, say, Hoseok, there was still amiable conversation here and there. Y/N had a feeling Jeongguk, in particular, was gearing up for later that evening, gazing out the shop window every once in a while to stare at the van. 

“Our plan is solid. I’ll handle the cameras, Namjoon is on the audio recording devices, and Y/N, I’m going to give you the EMF detector and communication devices, since you’re adept with sensing energies,” Jeongguk assured her and Namjoon, the sun beginning to go down as the three of them brought equipment into the Sanders’ home. 

The family had left for the hotel that morning, and would be staying there until Y/N and the two hybrids could successfully banish the entity. The house was cold, and eerily quiet, and Y/N was grateful that she had black tourmaline necklaces for the three of them as an added layer of protection. While she was somewhat anxious about the investigation, there was immense comfort in having Namjoon and Jeongguk with her. Namjoon was protective, which became clearer to her by the day, and Jeongguk was nearly fearless. 

“How long do you think the investigation will last?” Y/N questioned, wondering if it would be anything like what she had seen on television. 

“However long it takes for us to get enough evidence,” Jeongguk shrugged, on his knees and setting up a tripod facing the hallway, where Erika mentioned seeing a shadow figure several times. 

“Good thing we brought the Red Bull,” Y/N joked, placing a few clear quartz crystals around the living room, Namjoon on the couch with her laptop booting up the software they’d need for audio recording and reviewing footage. “You’re gonna teach me how to use these devices, right, sweets?”

“Obviously,” Jeongguk snorted, attaching one of the cameras to the tripod. “It’s straightforward though, not many buttons to press. Then you can ask your questions you wrote down. Namjoon will be right beside you, recording audio.”

Jeongguk, dressed in all black, pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing those tattoos that Y/N never fully got a good look at. While he was prickly about explaining everything to Y/N, he did it thoroughly, and it was interesting to watch the elk hybrid drop into total concentration on a particular task. Y/N decided to take a walk through the small house, not sensing much on the first floor other than that odd feeling of being watched through the living room window. It was when she climbed the stairs to the three bedrooms where there was a chill rolling down her spine. 

The master bedroom, where Erika slept– and her son, too, when he had his nightmares, had a sadness, a tense anxious feel to it. Putting selenite on all of the window sills, she stopped when she saw a photo sitting on Erika’s nightstand. It was the young mother, looking vibrant and happy in comparison to how nervous she was when Y/N met her. The young boy, too, was grinning without purplish circles under his eyes. Most noticeably different was the daughter, Julie, who was a few years younger and not wearing the gothic garb she had during their initial consultation. Sighing, she hoped that the family could be at ease again once her and the boys helped them.

Moving down the hall, hands coming up to rub her shivering arms, she peeked into the boy’s bedroom, nearly choking at the heaviness of the energy in there. Y/N refused to go in there without one of her hybrids with her. Nauseous, she tentatively made her way to the final bedroom, Julie’s. 

The room was painted pink, but most of the walls were covered in pop punk posters. As for the energy, it was different from the solid wall of darkness in Tommy’s room, but it still made her feel sick and again, like someone was watching her. Visually sweeping the room as Jeongguk suggested, looking for any occultish items such as a Ouija board, but not actively going through the teenager’s stuff. 

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she stiffened when an ice-cold draft filled the room, penetrating her body in a way that had her skin crawling. Dread filled her, resentment, and anger. Panicking, turning every which way to see if she could spot something physically manifesting, the thump-thump-thump against the walls returning. Whimpering, she sped out of the room, chest heaving, thundering down the stairs and startling Jeongguk, who was placing special lights around in the hallway. 

Y/N smacked directly into his chest, quaking, clinging to his sweater for dear life and desperate to get rid of that supernatural coldness that pierced through her. Jeongguk grunted, letting her hide from the world in his sweater, his heart hammering steadily beneath her. 

“What the fuck happened, are you okay?” Jeongguk’s hands were hesitant when he patted her on the back, but there was a clear alarm in his voice.

 Namjoon’s clumsy, heavy tread was immediately thudding down the hall with urgency, Y/N releasing Jeongguk with embarrassment. Her reaction to that phenomena wasn’t exactly a great start to their investigation, establishing zero dominance over the entity, but she still couldn’t stop shaking. While Jeongguk was alarmed, Namjoon was calm, hands on her shoulders so he could duck his head and make eye-contact. 

“Take a few deep breaths, Y/N,” Namjoon’s eyebrows were pinched, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. “That’s it.”

After a couple of lungfuls of air, she was able to stop shaking underneath Namjoon’s palms, the wolf hybrid letting her go as soon as she calmed down. Both of them were waiting expectantly for her to relay what had happened, and Y/N felt like the presence was at the top of the stairs and watching them. 

“I think we should focus on the second floor,” Y/N said weakly, Namjoon’s orange honey eyes shifting from her face to the stairs, his blank expression giving nothing away. If anything, it was nice to have the both of them there, confident and collected. “Especially in the children’s bedrooms. I didn’t go into the boy’s bedroom, the energy was too thick and without one of you–” I was too scared. “Something manifested in the teenager’s room, like an ice-cold draft that ran right through me. Then the knocking on the walls started up again.”

Jeongguk leaned a hip against the banister, making intense eye-contact with Y/N, like he was attempting to soak in every word with grave seriousness. Sucking his lip ring into his mouth, making an animalistic grunt, and with a nod, he agreed. 

“So our key spots. The kid’s bedrooms, the window in the living room, and this hallway,” Jeongguk confirmed. “I’ll go upstairs and set up more equipment. Now that you have more of an idea of what the energy feels like up there, you should write down some more questions to ask later. You’ll be alright, center yourself.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, hoping she wasn’t being the weakest link. “You’re going to go up by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jeongguk had said that before, but him saying that did absolutely nothing to prevent her from worrying anyway. “Let’s just finish setting up, and we’ll start recording when it’s dark out.”

She followed Namjoon like a lost duckling back into the living room, Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he continued to boot up his software. Taking a moment, she centered herself, eyes shut, focusing on breathing and her connection to the Earth. 

“Remember why we’re here,” Namjoon said softly when she opened her eyes again, most of her fear and anxiety dissolving after centering. 

“For the family,” Y/N finished for him, Namjoon giving her knee a soft squeeze, his bitten ear flickering. 

“Do the lights really have to be off? Y/N doesn’t have night vision,” Namjoon asked a quarter after midnight, all of his audio equipment prepped and ready, including his tapes on the coffee table– their “base”. 

“I mean, if you want to be able to see anything on these full-spectrum cameras,” Jeongguk replied, promptly switching off the last lamp that offered Y/N vision in the house. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you kiddo?”

“If you have time to be an ass, you have time to get to work,” Y/N hissed, brushing by him with the device she had just learned how to use in her hand. That particular device, a “Spirit Box”, would fill the room with white noise, and somehow capture voices they couldn’t hear if the spirits responded to Y/N’s questions. 

While she did that in front of a camera set up in front of the living room window, Jeongguk was using his handheld camcorder, taking temperatures around all of the spots in the house. Thankfully, Namjoon would stay with her, helping her make out any sounds or words they could potentially capture. Clearing her throat, she sat on the chair beneath the window, Namjoon just a few feet away on the couch, the low light of the laptop illuminating his face and making his eyes glow. 

“I’m gonna take the temperatures upstairs,” Jeongguk’s voice was far away, probably already halfway to his destination, Y/N exhaling slowly as Namjoon gave her a thumbs-up; he had begun recording. She had already memorized her list of basic questions, so she switched the Spirit Box on, cringing at the gnashing sound echoing around the house. 

“Is there anyone here that wishes to speak with us?” Y/N began, feeling a little foolish, but pushing down the feeling swiftly. All she heard in response was the white noise, unfortunately. 

“What is your name?”

Nothing. 

“How old are you?”

Nothing, again. 

“Why are you here?”

Then, there was a disruption in the static, something garbly coming through, Y/N’s eyes lighting up as Namjoon began typing on the laptop. 

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

Growing a little excited, now understanding why Jeongguk was so into these devices, the static was interrupted once more, a frightening but unintelligible response captured through the Spirit Box. 

“Who lives here?”

Before Y/N could get too riled up, the rest of her questions received no response, so she and Namjoon elected to move into the hall, trading places with Jeongguk, who was taking pictures of the window and using thermal imaging on the area. 

It continued like that for about two more hours, repeating the interview with Namjoon multiple times with the Spirit Box and the EMF detector, the wolf hybrid letting her hold his hand when they were in Tommy’s room. The sounds of the voice that did come through in that space were particularly bone-chilling and grating. The last room, Julie’s room, only yielded one response that was reedy and low, Y/N ready to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as the interview concluded. 

Reconvening downstairs, Jeongguk was starting to pack up equipment, and thankfully, he turned on a light or two. He looked charged, like new life was breathed into him. Investigations such as that one must have been his life’s passion, because Y/N hadn’t seen him like that, well, ever. Her and Namjoon were silent as they helped the elk hybrid gather everything up, and while Namjoon seemed calm, she could tell he was on edge due to some of the audio they captured together. 

“Get anything?” Jeongguk pushed the last box of cameras into Namjoon’s van, Y/N wilting with exhaustion and nerves, watching her wolf hybrid lock the front door of the Sanders’ house with stiff shoulders, tape recorder under his arm. “We’ll review everything, but I’m pretty sure I captured some anomalies.”

“We had a few responses. Namjoon said he’d put the audio in a program music producers use to try and clarify what we were able to catch. There is definitely more than one entity we’re working with here,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair tiredly. 

“Hmm, you’re right,” Jeongguk let her get into the van first, Y/N buckling herself into the passenger seat, thanking the sky she had the next day off. It was nearly five in the morning, and her eyes were crossing. “You did well, Y/N.”

“You too, sweets. You were in your element, huh?” 

“I guess,” Jeongguk sobered up, toning down his excitement, Namjoon getting into the driver’s seat heavily, passing a hand over his face. 

“Let’s get out of here, I’m drained,” Namjoon pulled out of the driveway, Y/N’s teeth unclenching when he switched on some folksy music and they got away from the house. 

“You two are going to need to take some baths when we get back, right away. With that salt I gave you, I don’t want the risk of anything clinging to us,” Y/N leaned her head back, hearing Jeongguk still tinkering away with an electronic in the back of the van. 

Namjoon hummed, too tired to respond, but she knew he’d listen to her. Once she explained the importance of making sure they were all properly spiritually cleansed, he hadn’t had a single complaint obeying her requests to take salt baths or enduring Y/N waving rosemary smoke around him. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was a toss up. 

All Y/N knew was that she wasn’t exactly eager to find out what the entities were saying to her. Judging by the nastiness of some of the voices they captured, she doubted it was anything friendly. Namjoon said he’d take care of the audio over the course of the week, and Jeongguk was going to comb through his videos, data, and photos as well. All Y/N had to do was sit with the energies she felt and perhaps come up with some kind of plan for cleansings and banishment. Trying to find the moon in the sky, Y/N counted street lights until they were back at their own home, and there was a collective breath of relief from the three of them when they were safe inside. 

Before she knew it, it was the end of the week, the day she and Seokjin planned their date. Y/N had come up with something special to do with him during the evening, and she knew they weren’t going to be bothered, she made sure of it. With Namjoon and Jeongguk holed up in the van poring over their evidence still; Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok at the rec center for their clubs, and Jimin outside putting the garden beds together on the finally-thawing ground, they were pretty much by themselves. She was in Seokjin’s bedroom, the lamps dimmed low, and her jaguar hybrid was somewhere in the kitchen, claiming he was making something for them to snack on. Y/N didn’t tell Seokjin what her plan was for them, wanting a nice surprise, so as quickly as she could, she dumped the materials she needed on his neatly made bed. 

There was an old white topsheet she found in the depths of one of the linen closets, Y/N shaking it out and tying it to tops of the front two bedposts. The fabric fell, making a large “screen” at the foot of the bed, and with that done in a pinch, she hooked up the mini projector she got on Amazon and stuck it on the shelf behind Seokjin’s headboard. 

A cozy, quiet movie night was something she thought Seokjin would enjoy. Meaning to watch Lord of the Rings with him, she had the boxed CD set ready to go, even if they’d probably only get through one of the movies due to the length. Satisfied, she sped into his bathroom, changing into her pajamas– a pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. It was likely she’d end up sleeping next to Seokjin that night, so she decided she might as well get comfortable. She was tossing her clothes in his hamper when the sounds of the jaguar hybrid shuffling into his bedroom filled her ears, Y/N smiling at her reflection in his mirror and going out to meet him. 

Seokjin, with a curious flicker to his ear, was staring at the sheet she hung, setting a tray down with various snacks and drinks, and of course, a few slabs of the bread he baked that morning. Skipping to his side, Seokjin whirled around, cheeks coloring with how little clothing she was wearing. Seokjin wasn’t a fan of the cold, so his room was always boiling with space heaters going, so she wasn’t about to wear flannel pajamas. 

“Pretty, why’d you tie that sheet there?” Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his thin tee-shirt by the collar, averting his eyes. 

“So we could watch a movie together, I got a projector online. Do you like the sound of that?” Y/N asked, a touch self consciously, sitting on his bed and looking at the tray he brought up. With a pounding heart, she realized most of the snacks he prepared were her favorites. 

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Seokjin insisted, knees landing on the bed softly, fluffing his pillows and moving the stuffed alpaca aside so he could sit against the headboard. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Well, all those months ago, I mentioned wanting to watch Lord of the Rings with you. How about that?”

Seokjin, his bright eyes widening, replayed the memory in his head– when he was recovering from his fever, the day Y/N adopted him, she had lent him that book. He was nodding at once, watching Y/N grin and get on all fours, sliding a disc into the projector, adjusting the volume. He didn’t know if she felt how charged the air felt, tucking her hair behind her ear as she navigated the movie’s menu, his eyes skimming over her figure indulgently. The beginning credits began to roll, the projector displaying the title card of the film pretty well, Seokjin realizing that was why Y/N had dimmed the lights so low. 

Y/N got comfortable beside Seokjin at once, curling into his side and tucking herself under his arm, one of hers thrown across his waist. Reminded of a kitten getting cozy in her bed, Seokjin purred, fingertips dancing along her upper arm, the skin like warm silk. 

“I… never asked you this, but when I gave you this book, you seemed emotional. Can I ask you why, honey?” Y/N was thoroughly enjoying Seokjin stroking her arm with reverence, his chin resting on top of her head. 

“Oh, I suppose that was kind of odd to you at the time,” Seokjin replied, focusing more on her than the movie in the background. Movies never really compared to books, anyways. “It’s just something that I remember… a young kid I grew up with telling me about. You know I’m not a big adventurer, but reading about it, seeing it, I’m comfortable with. Nostalgia sometimes gets to me, that’s all.”

“That’s why you’re so sweet,” Y/N hummed, her breath fanning over his neck, Seokjin giggling at her words. “I felt so bad that day, I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“You didn’t, you just reminded me that sometimes the world is smaller than I think it is,” Seokjin’s touch migrated to her shoulders, lowly hissing at the tightness in the muscles, Y/N wincing when he pressed over them. “Come here.”

Seokjin cupped her waist, spreading his legs carefully, before rolling her over so she was seated between his thighs, back pressed to his chest. Y/N went stiff, the opposite of what he was trying to do, so he gave her a reassuring, chaste kiss to the crown of her head, pressing his thumbs into the tender sides of her neck. Shuddering when Seokjin dug the digits into two knots that have been giving her grief the entire week, she went limp immediately, not knowing where to put her own hands– settling them idly on her lap. 

“You’re tense, let me help you,” Seokjin murmured, Y/N surrounded by his eucalyptus scent, and having him care for her was better than any spa treatment. “You’ve been working too hard, pretty.”

“Uh-uh,” Y/N protested, melting backwards, the sturdiness of his chest actually quite surprising. “Not true– oh.”

Seokjin hit a particularly tender spot, her tight trapezius muscle, and he was seemingly chuckling as he massaged the flesh sensually. He didn’t make a smart retort, even though he could have, but instead he focused on working out every single kink in her neck. 

“How did you get so good at this?” Y/N was choking back moans, at that point, barely paying attention to the movie, her temperature rising in the toasty bedroom. 

“Well, when I was a performer, I’d have to tend to my own knots and strains,” Seokjin responded, sweeping her hair aside so he could press on either side of her upper spine, Y/N involuntarily arching away from him with a strained whine– one that had heat rising to his cheeks, shamefully. “Guess the skill is finally coming in handy.”

“Seokjin,” Y/N breathed, and the jaguar hybrid thought he heard a slight edge of warning to it, like she was accusing him of being cheeky. After so long, he couldn’t help it. 

A few moments went by mostly in silence– apart from the movie’s dialogue and score, and a tiny yelp from Y/N once or twice. Seokjin, even though he couldn’t stand feeling cold, was truthfully getting warm himself, Y/N so pliant in front of him, her hands subconsciously finding purchase on his knees as he worked her back. 

“B-baby, I think I’m g-good, uh–” Y/N’s breathing became labored, heat striking through her as he continued the massage under her shoulder blades. “Oh fuck.”

Apparently a very sore spot, Seokjin dug his fingers into her skin with more intensity, and embarrassingly so, Y/N let out a thin, pleading whine, Seokjin’s spine going rigid at the sound. 

“Does it feel good?” Seokjin asked, his voice becoming siren-like again, moving to the other shoulder blade and eliciting a similar sound from her. 

“W-what do you think?” Y/N was out of oxygen, two seconds away from pinning him to the headboard, Seokjin’s laughter rumbly and deep. “I don’t know if I want you to stop or to–”

Y/N was shamefully turned on at that point. It was hard not to be, she thought, between his proximity and his hands working her into a boneless puddle. Still chuckling, Seokjin removed one of his hands, reaching for the tray on the bed, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and offering it to Y/N, fingers poised before her lips. 

Instead of eating it, Y/N looked over her shoulder, face flushed and pupils blown out, an accusatory expression lighting up her features. 

“You didn’t mention you’re some sort of Casanova,” Y/N mumbled, overwhelmed by that romantic side of her jaguar hybrid, his ears fluttering playfully. Instead of feeding her, Seokjin ate the strawberry himself, the cool juices of the fruit spilling over his chin and down his neck, Y/N’s sight zeroing in on that visual. “Jesus Christ.”

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin teased once he swallowed the fruit, forcibly turning her back around so he could continue the massage, Y/N freezing when he not only laid his palms on her shoulders again, but his lips pressed a kiss to the top of her spine tenderly, his lips soothing her feverish flesh from the cold fruit he ate.

“Are you aware of how gorgeous you are, Seokjin? It’s borderline disturbingly wrong,” Y/N grouched, squeezing his knees, Seokjin freezing behind her before cracking up into hysterics, arms winding around her middle tightly, sponging kisses along her shoulders in between laughter. “You’re literally a doll!”

Despite his laughter, Y/N could feel his heart speeding up with her words, chest still flush with her back, and she debated whether or not to shut the movie off and just straddle him at that point. Suddenly aware that her panties were starting to get a bit damp, Y/N cursed herself inwardly, not believing how little it took to turn her on. She wondered if the jaguar hybrid could smell it, his sleek black tail laying heavily on one of her bare thighs. Boldly, while Seokjin kneaded her flesh again, she traced her fingers over the silky fur of his tail out of curiosity, Seokjin whimpering behind her, movements freezing. 

The atmosphere shifted instantly. She hadn’t gone as far as to touch Yoongi’s tail yet, but with Seokjin’s right in front of her, it was hard to resist stroking through the fur. In consequence, Seokjin’s fingers danced over the straps of her tank top, running his index fingers along the lace. 

“Can I… move these just a bit?” Seokjin fiddled with the material, Y/N nodding straight away, hurrying up the process by sliding one of the straps around her bicep, eager for him to tend to her aching shoulders, craving his touch. With a soft intake of air, Seokjin copied her movements on the other side, one hand gliding over the entirety of her exposed upper back, seemingly feeling for more points of tension. 

Still stroking through the fur of his tail, her other hand gripping his quilt with pale knuckles, Y/N bit down on her lip when Seokjin rolled his knuckles against her tender skin. Betting every last dollar in her bank account that neither of them gave a single shit what was happening in the movie still playing in front of them, Seokjin used one hand to grab the tray of food on the bed and move it to one of his nightstands distractedly, bending his knees so his feet were flat against the quilt and he could better cage Y/N in. 

However, with Seokjin’s movements, Y/N scooching up on the bed to press closer to him, her tank top straps fell to the crooks of her elbows, her eyes shooting wide open as the garment bunched around her waist– and she was not wearing a bra in that moment. 

There was a pause, Seokjin’s broad body crooking over hers from behind, where nothing was audible but sounds from the movie. Seokjin was staring at the entirety of her bare back, also realizing she wasn’t wearing anything under her tank top, but he was unable to help himself by gliding his hands from the small of her waist up to her mid-back. The action was smooth, Y/N’s skin somewhat slick with perspiration, Seokjin’s mouth watering. He always considered himself a man of patience, but there was something primal brewing within him, something that was difficult to control. 

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice was but a breeze in the wind, experimentally digging his fingertips into the base of her spine, relishing in the thready moan she offered to him, one of her forearms pressed over her breasts to preserve her modesty– Seokjin could smell both her arousal and bashfulness filling up the room thickly. “Are you alright?’”

“Keep touching me,” was all Y/N responded with, leaning backwards and removing her arm from her chest, Seokjin focusing straight ahead at the movie blindly. 

“How so, pretty girl?” Seokjin groaned, wrecked, his nose tucked into the base of her throat, not moving until she vocalized. 

“All over, anywhere,” Y/N whimpered, gasping when Seokjin’s hands snaked around her middle, skimming over her tummy, the jaguar hybrid’s resolve finally dissolving, his lips latching around the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Honey…”

Sucking her flesh into his mouth sensually, Seokjin felt blood rushing to his crotch, the taste of her skin so addicting, he swore he was high. It was the taste of her, yes, that was causing him to descend into a lust-driven frenzy, but also the scent of her love, the scent of her arousal, that was egging him on. Still, the human side of his brain begged him to see through the fog. 

“You’re sure?”

“Fuck, yes, Jin, please,” Y/N had annoyance dripping in her tone, one of her palms covering his on her abdomen, guiding it up to her sternum. “Love you, and I want you.”

A switch flipped within Seokjin, one he didn’t know existed, and he stroked the naked sides of her waist with hunger, resuming his task of decorating the slope of her neck with love bites, a strangled noise leaving his throat when Y/N shifted her hips backwards; flush to his. 

He was reminded of the previous weekend, Y/N in that dress, grinding into him with carefree abandon– and how he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom before they left to stick his face under the icy tap. He felt perverted, out of control– but a distant, animalistic side of him was saying “she’s the one, the only one” which was enough for him to want to stake his claim. 

Seokjin grasped the material of her tank top pooling around her waist, pulling it over her head with care. Once Y/N was free, she keened at the feeling of Seokjin suckling a bruise beneath her earlobe, his hardness pressing up against her ass, the sensation drenching her underwear thoroughly and anticipation climbing to Everest. 

Silently, Seokjin nipped the shell of her ear with his sharpened teeth, and before Y/N could fully process that, he was cradling her chest, the weight of her tits in his palms having him groaning and pressing his hips against her ass even more firmly. He had never been so turned on in his life, Y/N totally caged in his embrace, wanting and receptive to everything he had to offer her. This, this, was everything he was waiting to feel his entire life, and he could hardly think straight– Y/N semi-consciously whacking the projector, muting the movie miraculously in favor of hearing the noises Seokjin could make. 

Seokjin, caught in a spell, hooked his chin over Y/N’s shoulder, not caring that his back was aching from the prolonged arch, her breasts still cupped in his hands. Experimentally, he pressed them together, finally peering at her exposed chest, his throat rather dry at the sight as he soaked in both her heaving into his grasp, and the marks he had left on the side of her throat and shoulder. Skin lighting up with heat, one of her hands flailed backwards, clawing at Seokjin’s hip– now aware that he was very much completely clothed, all Y/N wanted was his bare skin against hers. 

“Easy, kitten,” Seokjin ground out, her fingernails cutting into his flesh even through the material of his sweatpants, Y/N hardly recognizing his hypnotic voice as it reached her ears centimeters away, and what he called her having her lax in his grip like prey. 

Her tits still in his palms, lips heavy on her neck, Y/N was about to melt into his mattress completely– breath stolen from her lungs when the jaguar hybrid teasingly swiped his thumbs over her nipples, erect with all of the slow teasing, the sensation sharp and having her jolt in the cage– made out of his limbs– he had trapped her in. 

“Tease,” Y/N managed due to the way his forefinger and thumb tweaked the buds, Y/N nearly passing out as he promptly slicked up the fingers of his right hand by sticking them in his mouth. “Jin–”

“Shush,” Seokjin returned, using his dampened digits to roll her right nipple between them, completely entranced. At that point, he felt himself leaking somewhat into his boxers, toying with Y/N’s chest until she was a mess in his lap, peering over her shoulder to see how her body reacted to his touch. “If you let me, I’ll make you feel good. But I want you to listen to me, is that okay?”

Y/N nodded desperately, but it wasn’t enough of a confirmation for Seokjin. 

“Mmm-hmm! Yes, Seokjin, I-I– hnngh,” Y/N yelped when he kneaded the sensitive flesh of her breasts again. 

“Okay then, lean on me,” Seokjin sucked yet another bruise into the side of Y/N’s throat, enjoying working her up. “You– mmph–”

Y/N had turned her head, seeking out his mouth, eagerly slotting her lips against his with desperation. His arms automatically wrapped around her again, one forearm slung low on her writhing hips, the other barred across her chest, letting her kiss him with abandon. She had wanted to kiss him like that for weeks, swiping her tongue along the seam of his mouth, Seokjin’s lips parting slightly and granting her access. A deep, indulgent moan came from her as she tasted him, sweet like the strawberry he just ate, still clawing at his clothed hips when her tongue slid against his. In return, Seokjin hummed, kissing her back just as freely, letting her take control for a moment. Though, while she was distracted, Seokjin began to fiddle with the waistband of her pajama shorts, a grunt tearing through him when she jerked her hips backwards. 

Breaking away from their kiss, Seokjin was transfixed, Y/N attempting to keep her control by going for his neck, even though the twisted position of her body was uncomfortable. Lapping at the sticky trail of strawberry juice along his Adam's apple, Seokjin shuddered at the feeling, her teeth scraping against his throat before she sunk them in, which had his eyes rolling back into his skull. 

Taking matters into her own hands, Y/N managed to wiggle out of her shorts, a hand breaking away from Seokjin’s hips, tossing them carelessly off the bed. The jaguar hybrid, sounding utterly fucked out already, tipped his head back and moaned when her ass collided with his lap again. At that point, with the scent of her wetness becoming so concentrated, Seokjin snapped, growling, dangerously, Y/N blinking up at him at once. 

“Face forward and watch the movie, pretty,” Seokjin ordered, Y/N’s head spinning. If he didn’t want to continue, that was fine, but she was pretty much naked and she wasn’t about to watch Hobbits traipse through the mud like that. However, that wasn’t the case, Seokjin hooking his chin over her kiss-bitten shoulder, fingertips dipping into the waistband of her panties. “Oh. Did you wear these for me?”

Looking down, confused and still driven crazy by lust, Y/N’s mouth dropped open. Subconsciously, she must have picked out the pink pair of panties Seokjin was teasing her with when they were folding laundry, the gusset of the fabric completely soaked. Lolling her head back against his chest, she looked at him pleadingly, the feeling of him tracing her hip bones driving her insane. 

“Aw, poor thing,” Seokjin cooed, kissing her temple with a derisive smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With that, Seokjin stripped her of her panties in a flash, stuffing the garment into the pocket of his sweatpants, Y/N mewling, turned on by the fact that she was completely bare before him, and he hadn’t shed a single article of clothing. Without wasting too much time, his mouth on her neck again, Seokjin grabbed a hold onto her thighs and propped them up, his breath quickening at the fresh wave of her arousal that surrounded him. Again, Y/N grappled for his tail, just about the only thing she could do wrapped up in his arms like that, cunt clenching around nothing when he moaned hollowly, the appendage curling around her wrist. 

Finally, Seokjin ghosted his fingers over where she needed him most, cursing at the wetness that gathered there abundantly, Y/N’s hips bucking over his lap with a cry. Cunt pulsing with his touch, Seokjin bit his lip, parting her dewy folds, the slick sound making Y/N cringe. He didn’t want to tease her too much, she was practically dripping onto his quilt, free hand coming up to pinch a nipple as his index finger made a slow circle around her clit simultaneously. 

The action elicited a great reward. Y/N’s spine arched, crying out his name, more wetness gushing out of her. Cooing again, Seokjin kept circling the sweet spot, loving the sounds she made for him, hardly noticing she was scraping her nails against his sensitive tail. 

“So wet, kitten,” Seokjin purred, slowly working her up, Y/N’s gut tightening at his dulcet tone, hardly here nor there. 

“Feels so good,” Y/N thrashed, stomach flipping over when the movement had his cock pressed right against the seam of her ass. “Ah!” 

Seokjin groaned, ignoring his own pleasure in favor of finding her’s, testing the waters by teasing a fingertip around her fluttering entrance. Hearing her pleas, he sunk the digit into her, whimpering at the way she clamped down on him. Y/N rocked her hips, essentially riding his finger, the visual erotic and making him hiss darkly. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Seokjin encouraged, gripping the side of her waist to aid her desperate movements. “Use me.”

Helping her out, he began to snap his wrist against her, curling his finger and pressing against the front of her walls, Y/N swore she could have died, so crammed full of desire for the jaguar hybrid it was driving her insane. 

“M-more, please,” Y/N begged, grinding against his hand, leaking all over him. 

“Spoiled little girl,” Seokjin taunted, but despite the jab, he added another digit into the mix while she rode his fingers, his thumb toying with her clit as she felt herself barreling towards her orgasm. “Gonna need to stretch you out, anyways, kitten.”

Gasping, his dirty words was all she needed, her sudden orgasm taking Seokjin by surprise as she wailed in his arms, walls spasming around his fingers as he continued to fuck them into her. The lewd sounds of her wetness had his ears ringing, wanting to taste the mess she made, but he murmured sweet nothings in her ear as she tore through her orgasm instead. 

Y/N, panting, grasped his wrist to halt his movements, oversensitive but somehow still needy for him, Seokjin releasing his hold on her and allowing her to turn, climbing over his lap to straddle him with a ravenous look on her face. Seokjin simply stared back, smirking, bringing his slicked-up fingers to his mouth, dutifully cleaning them off and trying not to cum in his pants at the taste of her. To his surprise, a startled moan leaving his lips, Y/N rocked her hips over the hardness beneath his sweatpants, her hands tangled in his shirt. 

“Uh, oh, still need more?” Seokjin teased, hands landing on her ass and kneading the flesh, helping her grind against him. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”

Y/N had no response but to kiss him, whimpering when his tongue tangled with hers, Y/N sensing that he was slowly beginning to unravel. She wanted nothing more than for him to lose his patience and fuck her senseless, feeling her pussy throbbing over the bulge in his pants. She broke away to mouth down his neck, and when she felt him shiver when she grazed over a particular spot, she sucked a bruise into the flesh, Seokjin’s hips grinding up harshly into her heat. 

“Take this off,” Y/N whined, yanking at his flimsy tee shirt, fed up with being the only one naked. Seokjin obliged, letting her strip the article off of him while they continued to rub against one another, sweat dripping from his hairline. “God, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Y/N gaped at the sight in front of her, not expecting Seokjin to be… well, ripped. She had seen his chest before, when she mended the wound on his side, but she was hardly gawking at his solid abs when she was doing so. Hands instantly shooting out to glide along his skin, his muscles rippling under her touch, the jaguar hybrid was panting while she gyrated her hips on his cock. 

“No, you,” Seokjin managed, smiling at her despite the situation they were in, Y/N kissing over his prominent clavicles tenderly. “Fuck, pretty girl!”

Y/N moved off of his hips, gawking at the wet patch she left over his gray sweatpants with distant humiliation, making brief eye-contact to ask if she could divest the garment from him. He nodded eagerly, so wound up he could think of nothing else but the scent of her, the love in her eyes, and how perfect she was. In one smooth motion, she shucked both his pants and boxers from his body, her eyes going comically wide at what she saw. 

Not only was Seokjin the sweetest man alive, gorgeous, and ripped– he had the biggest dick she ever saw in her life. Truly, he was blessed in all areas, Y/N speechless as she stared at the intimidating length and girth, suddenly understanding why he mentioned needing to stretch him out. 

“Seokjin, you’re huge,” Y/N, again, was clenching around nothing, looking up at him with awe. Seokjin had blush in his cheeks that wasn’t due to his arousal and the temperature of the room, Y/N realizing he was bashful. “I– you want my mouth, my–”

“Come here,” Seokjin cut her off, regaining his ability to take control, hooking her around her waist. “I want you to sit on my cock.”

Stunned, Y/N felt her wetness roll down her thighs, and fuck, she was going to need it. She had no objection to that request, maintaining their eye contact as she reached down, grasping his cock, the jaguar hybrid’s ears flattening against his skull as her thumb smeared precum around his tip. Having mercy on him, and neediness taking over her again, she ran him through her folds, dripping over him, whimpering brokenly when he caught on her entrance. Would he even fit?

“You can take it,” Seokjin read her mind, tucking hair behind her ear and kissing beneath her jaw, the words making heat strike through her. “Go slow.”

Swallowing thickly, she lined him up, exhaling shakily as she sunk down, and despite how turned on she was and the sheer wetness spilling from her, the stretch was enough to knock the wind out of her. Taking over, guiding her by her waist, Seokjin grit his teeth as she took him inch by inch, her chest heaving. It was a tight fit, enough to have Seokjin seeing stars, Y/N’s thighs shaking on either side of him. He was telling her to breathe when she was fully seated in his lap, cock throbbing inside of her as she adjusted to his size, kissing over her face soothingly. 

“Move when you’re ready kitten, okay?” Seokjin himself was a bit starved for oxygen, Y/N cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lower lip, tongue flicking over the flesh. 

Regaining her ability to function, eyes going round when she looked down– she pressed a hand over her lower abdomen, the slightest bump there, the action having Seokjin hissing. Darkness was in his eyes when her walls fluttered around him, and with that, Y/N gave an experimental roll of her hips, both of them moaning in tandem as he slid out an inch.

“F-fuck, Jin,” Y/N whined, getting a hold on his broad shoulders to ride him properly, lifting herself up only to drop back down harshly, feeling like he was spearing into her guts. 

Entirely overwhelmed, Seokjin leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples while she fucked herself on his cock, happy to let her chase her pleasure, to provide it. Y/N’s head was thrown back, entirely gone, Seokjin’s name leaving her lips like a prayer when he stroked a thumb over her clit, bracing her hands on his knees again to switch up the angle, one that gave Seokjin quite a show and had his cock rubbing against her G-spot deliciously. 

“Look at you,” Seokjin awed, his hips beginning to buck up to meet her strokes, taking his cock like a saint. “Fuck. So pretty, so perfect.”

With Seokjin fucking into her like that, his steady circles over her clit, she was gone again with a slam and grind onto his lap, an elastic band snapping within her as she stilled, collapsed against Seokjin’s chest as she felt herself gush. 

“Holy fucking hell,” Seokjin groaned, his lap soaked, Y/N’s pussy clamping down so hard on him his vision was turning white. 

Y/N couldn’t move anymore, throat strained from her cries, convulsing against her. The world was turning as she caught her breath, somehow still aroused, and she found herself on her back, Seokjin sucking a deep bruise into her neck. Still nestled inside of her, throbbing, Y/N wound her arms around the jaguar hybrid, hands sliding into his hair. 

“Fuck me,” Y/N breathed against his lips, and that was all Seokjin needed to release that last scrap of control he had over himself. 

Snapping his hips forward, Y/N’s cunt swollen and sensitive, she wailed, feeling him in her throat. The new position was intimate, Seokjin pretty much laying most of his body weight on top of her, murmuring things in her ear that she could only make out bits and pieces of. 

“Gonna cum soon,” he groaned, driving into her, Y/N sinking her teeth into his shoulder. 

“Cum inside me,” she requested, the discussion about her IUD already out of the way days ago. “P-please.”

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seokjin teased, though the request had the predator in him coming alive. “Want me to stuff you full so you can have my cubs?”

Shock flooded through Y/N at that question, not expecting Seokjin to be like that, and shamefully she felt herself clenching around him again. Seokjin must have felt it, because he grunted, hips stuttering. 

“You’d look so beautiful,” Seokjin sighed, Y/N’s eyes rolling back, sliding her fingers over his silky ears. “Fuck, I love you, my pretty girl, my love, gonna give it to you–”

With a final thrust, Seokjin went still, kissing Y/N harshly, heat filling her as he spilled into her cunt, the jaguar hybrid whimpering. Miraculously, the sensation of him cumming so deeply inside of her had a smaller, less intense orgasm shuddering through her, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted. Seokjin himself was breathing like he ran a marathon, Y/N holding him weakly as he pulled himself together. 

“You’re insane,” Y/N accused once she caught her breath, covered in sweat, saliva, and cum, her poor pussy battered and sensitive. “I won’t be able to walk for three days.”

Seokjin giggled, actually giggled, after how devilish he had just behaved, placing an apologetic kiss on her jaw. 

“Was I too rough?” Seokjin became serious, worry etched in his eyebrows. 

“No, you were perfect,” Y/N insisted, cupping the side of his face. “I love you, honey.”

Hiding his face in her neck, he returned the sentiment, both of them content to sit in their mess for a few minutes to hold each other, Seokjin’s tail curling behind him languidly. 

“We watched about five minutes of that movie,” Y/N commented, twirling a lock of his wavy hair around a finger with a snort. “That was a hell of a first date!”

“There’s always next time,” Seokjin replied, finally rolling off of her, Y/N wincing at what they had to clean up. “I’m gonna get some things to clean you up, can you have a few sips of that water for me, pretty?”

Y/N, bonelessly, reached for the forgotten snack platter, greedily gulping the water down her scraped-up throat, watching Seokjin walk to his dresser. With a secret smile, she stared at his ass, munching on a strawberry. He only took a few minutes to gather his items: a few damp cloths, two pairs of his pajamas, and a fresh quilt to replace the one that had unspeakable fluids all over it. 

Lovingly, Seokjin cleaned her up, cooing when she winced at the sensitivity between her legs, doing the same to himself and dressing the two of them in his soft pajamas. Y/N only had to stand for a few seconds while he changed the quilt, pulling it back so they could get in. 

They ended up in the same position they were originally in, Y/N curled into his side, Y/N turning the projector off of mute in an attempt to pick up wherever the movie was, her eyes catching on something sitting on one of the pillows. 

“Oh my god. The alpaca watched us fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at the plushie, making Seokjin’s squeaky laugh fill the room, Y/N smacking him lightly on his chest. “Why do we keep scandalizing the innocents?”

“Our cross to bear,” Seokjin shrugged, brushing his lips over one of the love bites he left behind.

Holding her close, they chatted about the movie, ate some snacks, and after about an hour, fell asleep intertwined– the projector still rolling on, and rain falling gently outside. 

“I think I’ve figured out the audio,” Namjoon invited Y/N into his room days later, once she untangled herself from Seokjin in the morning and completely rinsed their sins off of her body. “Everything we captured last week.”

Namjoon’s expression was worrying her, his eyebrows pinched, sitting at his desk and chin in his hand. He had been slaving over a digital audio workstation all week, hardly making it to mealtimes, Y/N even hearing him pacing around his room late at night. 

“Is it bad?”

Namjoon gave her a look, one that said everything she needed to know, leaning against his desk. 

“Did Jeongguk listen?” 

“He listened this morning,” Namjoon said carefully, Y/N wondering why he wasn’t present. “Due to what we ended up capturing, he went upstairs to consult his old journal. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Y/N bit her lip nervously, not liking his clear reluctance. With a sigh, he pressed on the space bar. 

“What is your name?”

Static.

“How old are you?”

More static.

“Why are you here?”

Listening to her recorded voice had her cringing, but finally, there was a response to the third question. 

“Watching.” The voice was creepy, low, and made her queasy, but what was said had her skin crawling. 

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

“Many are here.” 

Y/N glanced at Namjoon, a little confused. Sure, the responses made her uneasy, but they weren’t so bad to warrant how hesitant he looked. 

“Okay, creepy, but expected, right?” She asked, nudging him with her foot. 

“There’s more. I didn’t want to show you, but Jeongguk insisted,” Namjoon said flatly, expression darkening. “Actually, I don’t think you, specifically, should even go back to that house.”

“What? Namjoon, you’re freaking me out. Just show me,” Y/N blinked, Namjoon scrolling on the workstation to a highlighted section. 

“This is when we were in Julie’s room,” Namjoon murmured, pressing play. 

“Why are you here?” Y/N’s voice came through the speakers, Y/N recalling they only got one response in that room. 

“To kill you, whorish witch.”

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[kissitbttr]

eddie earns his first blowjob from his mean cheerleader girlfriend

warning: 18+, oral receiving, insecure eddie,

a/n: this was requested but i lost the ask lmao, enjoy. also not really that filthy xx

-

sex has never been his forte,

sure he jerks himself off and has a pile of porn magazines stacked underneath his bed but never actually experienced… sex.

girls aren’t exactly lining up to be getting dicked down by him. not when you’re the town freak. if anything, they avoid him like a plague. the only time girls want to be around eddie is just so that he can give them free greens and nothing else. he’s not stupid, he can tell what their true intentions are.

so when y/n came into his life. he has no idea what to expect. obviously, she’s far more experienced and skilled when it comes to it and it makes him feel slightly insecure. and jealous too. because he knows all of her exes were handsome jocks who probably scored more than twenty girls in their lives. no doubt that they had given her so much pleasure than he could possibly offer.

he wants to make her feel good. he really does.

“so, steve and robin gave me these” she pulls up two DVDs and show them to him. “evil dead and carrie. which one do you like best?”

he cocks an eyebrow, eyes switching between the two films. “i thought you wanted chick flicks or something like that?”

she shrugs, deciding to put evil dead on the player. “horror movies make me horny. and what better way to watch it than with my favorite man, hm?”

he chuckles nervously when she shoots him a wink and a smile. flirtatious one. “usually girls get horny when they see porn. but oh, not you. pretty fucked up if i might say.”

“you love it” she responds, crawling beside him as they both lay comfortably on her bed. “how’s your day, baby”

he puffs out a long exaggerated breath. “kind of shit, ms.O'Donnell been up my ass about the last assignment. she wanted me to re-do it.”

“aw that sucks” she pouts, running her fingers through his hair. “want me to beat her up for you?”

“no, i’m good” he laughs, not wanting her to do something that’ll damage her academics. the thing is about y/n, when she says something along the lines of ‘beating someone up’ you better not take it lightly.

because she will do it.

“too bad. I’d love to see her blood pouring out of those nostrils.” she sighs, plopping her head down on his chest as she hooks her leg with his. his arm wraps around her body protectively. “the offer still stands.”

“hey, enough of that would ya?” he kisses the crown of her head, smiling to himself. “as sexy as it is to see you get violent, the consequences will be ten times worse if you punch a teacher.”

“just gotta wait till graduation then.” she innocently replies, finger drawing circles on his chest.

halfway through the movie, eddie is trying his best to keep his focus on the plot. but she’s making it so hard for him to do so. she continuously shifts her weight on him, ‘accidentally’ brushing against his hard shaft with an innocent ‘oops’ every time she does it.

they’ve been together for almost a month and he hasn’t gotten used to the effect she has on him. it’s frustrating how he can’t control his thoughts and clammy palms whenever she puts her hands on his body.

“you okay?” she wonders, looking up at him with her doe eyes and playful smile. “you feel so tense, teddy”

“y-yeah” he stammers as his focus remains fixed on the screen. “just uhm, peachy”

peachy?? who the fuck says that?!

she hums in response, moving her mouth to attach itself on his neck with fingers moving down south to softly palm him over the thick material of his pants. he takes in a deep breath at the touch, finding it more difficult to think straight with her lips on him.

“y/n” he calls her softly, hand gripping tightly around her waist as he feels himself grow even more. “sweetheart i-“

she shushes him. “you look so good right now i have to do something eds.” her tongue licks a bold stripe on the skin, pushing her chest against his, “we can take turns later, yeah?”

he gulps, body melting under her touch. “s-shit, y/n wait, wait!“ he suddenly exclaims, freeing himself from her grip

y/n frowns when eddie pushes her lightly. feeling annoyed why he’s like that towards her.

“eddie what the fuck?! do you not want me to suck your cock?” she harshly asks, then a sudden realization hits her. “are you fucking another bitch behind my back, munson?!”

he wide-eyed her as she crosses her arm, ready to kill him at that exact moment. “what? no! w-what makes you think I’m cheating on you?!”

“who is it?” she shoots immediately. “Julia from the cheer team or that fucking weird four-eyed wendy’s looking motherfucker at loves to stare at you across the hall?!”

eddie is confused. he doesn’t even know who she’s talking about, let alone a wendy-looking girl that keeps staring at him. how does she even know that?

he shakes his head furiously, wrapping her hands in his grasp to reassure her.“no! oh god y/n, of course not! . i only got my eyes for my girl, you know that. plus, Julia? she hates me and my friends, why would you even think of her?”

“then what’s going on!” she groans, moving to kneel in front of him as he sits up straight. “every time we make out or when i try to suck you off, you’d push me away. are you not attracted to me, anymore?”

“princess, believe me when i say this has nothing to do with you! of course I’m still attracted to you.” he says, looking at her in the eye. “shoot me in the head if i decided to leave you for another woman, i give you the permission.”

“okay, so what is it?” her voice turns soft. “you can tell me.”

sooner or later, of course, eddie has to tell her the truth. he hates having to keep secrets from her, but it’s embarrassing. who the hell wants to date a virgin? if she found out about that, she’d look at him differently. and he doesn’t want to lose her. not when things start to get better for him,

she notices how his eyes drop down to his lap, fiddling with his fingers as he removes his hands from hers. this causes her eyebrows to knit in concern.

“baby? what’s going on” she reaches out to softly pat her thumb across his cheek,

“it’s pretty embarrassing” he lowly chuckles,

“it’s not if it got you all worked up like this. come on, It’s your girl.” she ducks her head down a bit to take a look at his features,

he exhales. “well you know it’s just that i…” he trails off, “never had sex before..”

“what?!” she sounds genuinely surprised. “you’re a virgin?”

he nods, slowly looking up to meet her eyes. “yeah. it’s why i have been so… weird. I’m sorry. i know you expected more from me.”

seeing him get so vulnerable and embarrassed because of that makes her heart break. that’s why he’s been avoiding her touch? god, this man is so precious she feels like she’s going to pass out.

“eddie, you don’t have to be sorry for being … inexperienced. there’s nothing wrong with that. and ‘expected more’? baby, you are already enough for me.” she cradles his face to get him to look at her. “do you think i care about whether you’re a virgin or not? because i don’t.”

“well, you’ve been with those guys before, right? i bet they made you feel good. and i want to do that too. perhaps even better.”

oh her heart is about to leap out of her chest.

“made me feel good? they thought they were doing something. i had to fake it because they barely knew how to do it”. she rolls her eyes, earning a small laugh from him.

“plus, i think it’s cute that no one has ever touched you before.” she giggles, pressing a kiss on his nose,

“well i don’t want to be cute! i want to be hot. for you” he grumbles, frowning like a small child.

“you are, baby” she giggles, even more, shaking her head at this adorable man. “so cute and hot, you make my head spin and panties drop. not a day goes by that i do not think of you”

“you mean that?” his voice small. “because you don’t have to say that just because I’m your boyfriend.”

“i meant every word. do you know how many girls i had to threaten and slammed against the wall for eyeing you? countless.”

“you never told me that…”

“not important” she waves her hand in an attempt to change the subject. “now… how about i make you feel good, hm?”

she moves to put her weight on top of him, putting her legs on either side of his thighs. his heart is beating a mile per minute the moment she sits there. having no idea where to place his hands, he just place them next to her knees.

there’s a twinkle of lust across her eyes, the straps of her blue nightgown falling down her shoulders. long messy hair tucks on the either side of her neck

“but i want to make you feel good too. make you cum on my fingers” he struggles to say each word when her hand begins to untie the strings of his sweatpants.

“we have plenty of time to do that, but … i think my boyfriend deserves it more. don’t you think?”

“well... only if you want to” he's being shy, cheeks red and it drives her mad how cute he's being with her

“of course, i want to.” his pants are pulled now down on his thighs and his cock springs free. “would you let me take care of you?”

he nods frantically, becoming putty underneath her bedroom eyes as she slowly wraps her soft palm around the base of his hard shaft. eddie had never thought her eye contact is strong enough to make his body tremble.

“f-fuck, sweetheart” he blows a sigh of pleasure when she goes down to lick the tip, humming to herself when she finally got a taste of him,

he watches every move she makes. afraid that if he misses just one second, he will regret it. it still doesn't feel real to him. having the prettiest girl in Hawkins as his girlfriend going down on his cock. with a sweet, innocent look decorating her features, enough to make him cream already. but he's holding it.

dear god, he's trying to hold it.

”not even halfway through but you taste so good to me already” she smiles with her tongue still out, he catches a glimpse of her piercing and almost lets out a moan. ”and you have been hiding this from me? not nice”

the minute she slips his cock into her mouth, he's a goner already. brown eyes lulling onto the back of his head with a soft grunt following. she drags her tongue slowly from the base of his shaft, all the way up before closing her mouth around the reddening tip. keeping her eyes on him as she goes, who seems to be having a hard time trying to compose himself.

a devilish smile appears on her face, and her freshly manicured hand reaches out to give his balls a soft squeeze. he flinches at the sudden contact, groaning and moaning when she works on her tongue around him.

”does that feel good, eds?” she checks on him to make after pulling her mouth off. making sure he’s enjoying every moment. coating the tip with her spit before she spreads it with her thumb, ”like having my mouth on you?”

he can only nod to answer, his body is consumed by too much euphoria to give her a verbal response. chest raising with a heavy breath every time her fingers tip-toeing over the sensitive skin. balling his fists so hard, he wouldn't be surprised if his fingernails create a dent in his palms,

”use your words, come on” she moves her hand up and down the stiff flesh with a soft grip, watching his mouth fall open.

”fuck yes. it feels so good b-baby please... don't stop, please” he begs in between breaths, almost sounding like a squeak. eddie finally opens up his eyes to gaze back at her. giving her, his best pleading look, ”i wanted your mouth for so long”

”good boy” with that, she slides his cock back into her wet mouth. while her other hand runs up and down his thigh, sending a light shiver down his spine and arising goosebumps on his skin

eddie's fingers are curling up against the sheets. a strangled noise leaving his throat when the sight of her breasts almost spilling out from the dress. looking like a proper porn star.

he thinks he might actually pass out from this. the velvety insides of her mouth make his head spin and her tongue never seemed to stop teasing the tip. his legs are tense and she can see it from the corner of her eye. she’s taken by surprise when his hips accidentally bucking up, hitting the back of her throat.

”shit, s-sorry about that, sweetheart” he softly tells her, earning a squeeze on his thigh from her as a reassurance that it's okay.

he feels his body is blazing. he can't exactly describe it but it feels so good. pure bliss blooms inside of him when she continues to bob her head up and down. and fuck, eddie doesn't want to cum just yet. but he can't take it anymore. not when she peers up at him through her lashes, still with that innocent look on her face. or when she reaches out to squeeze his heavy balls of cum.

it gets even more harder when she sinks further, moaning around his cock because the sweet, sweet taste of him is creating an excitement that bubbles in her stomach

“f-fuck, fuck. i'm cumming” he rushes, thinking that she might pull away but she only wraps her lips tighter around him. sucking even harder until he releases it all. thick, white string of cum falling in her mouth and painting her tongue. eddie cries out in pleasure, screwing his eyes shut.

his fingers slowly start to loosen the grip around the sheets, his breath going steady, and relaxes both his legs.

she pops off of him, brushing a finger in the corner of her mouth to swipe his remaining. not wanting it to go to waste. “you're so adorable” with a giggle, she plops herself next to him, “how was it?”

“fucking amazing” he laughs breathlessly, rubbing his face up and down with his hands before facing her. a lopsided smile tugging her lips. ”god you were so good with it, I thought I was going to die”

“never heard that one before” she snickers playfully, making herself comfortable underneath the duvet. cuddling up to him. “you tasted so good too, what's the secret?”

he pretends to think while pulling herself close to him. “cheerios and cigarettes”

she swats his chest with the back of her hand, making him laugh. ”I'm gonna make you some real food. my man needs to have the stamina if he's planning to fuck me with his cock.”

he freezes, leaning back slightly to take a good look at her face to see if she's pulling his leg. “what?”

“you heard me.” her voice is stern but also playful. “you're gonna fuck me into oblivion and I will guide you through it if I have to. and we're not stopping until you make both of my legs shake that i can’t fucking walk to school tomorrow.”

eddie is certain he's in heaven right now

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie things #eddie munson x mean!cheerleader

[lolita-lollipop]

YANDERE FALLEN ANGEL X FEM READER

Fully unedited so probably sucks lol

You had known that it was an awful idea to come out this far into the woods, all of the elders in your little village would tell the youth about the horrors they had to pass on the way here, the horrors that were inevitably still out there. But you’re senses had long left you, your mind was numb with cold now along with your hands and feet, and you were just walking.

Endlessly walking in random directions, trying to find the way home.

In your village, you weren’t the most well liked girl, you parents were lazy drunks who contributed nothing to the already failing economy, you were left as a burden to this poor place, and you served as another mouth to feed. They had all been waiting until they deemed you the old enough age of 16 to banish you off into the dark world about. You had never left your small, comfortable home, never thought about leaving either. That’s what made you weak.

It wasn’t even like you had done anything wrong, certainly in other regions of the world, like the Royal city, you would have been taken in by some rich sympathetic woman. But here? Every man and woman and child was as poor as the last. One second you were sleeping on your straw bed with a thin blanket, and the next you were on the front steps thrown into the snow. While your “mother” screamed at you to leave this place and never come back.

And so here you were, you weren’t supposed to be out this far and you knew it, but where else were you to go? There is no home anymore, just the icy air of winter and the ever growing trail to some far away region. You weren’t lost per say, as you had no true destination. However you had lost your path. Your tears had long frozen all up, and the little clothing you bore barely did anything against the bite of the air. You were going to die, your fingers were already turning a deep shape of blue and purple, and god knows if those mist angels were out tonight.

Those are the things you’d always been told to worry about, at nighttime the forests around sang a disturbing chorus, apparently angels that were once holy had fallen here, and so here they wept. They steal any life that crosses their path, being clever and cunning creatures, if you were to run into one, there would be no escape from it.

Of course…. No one has ever actually seen one. You had grasped at the hope that they weren’t real, although you knew it wasn’t true, all you could do right now was focus on finding your way into civilization that would give you a place to stay.

But slowly, as the mist creeped up to you on the ground and you began to hear that sad chorus again, your mind shifted into one of panic. Almost sheer terror.

You began to run as the night grew deep, and you stopped paying attention to the little details . The only focus in your mind was getting the hell out. Which of course backfired on you. It was too late for you to realize when your foot got caught in a loop of rope, and you were pulled up in a net like trap.

You screamed and screamed in attempts to make contact with anyone who could be passing by on a nearby trail. But to no avail, no one came to your rescue, either because they were too scared or there was just no one there. Still, you let your voice become hoarse with screaming, you screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screa-

“Quiet.” A commanding voice behind you bellowed, and so you quieted, you stopped breathing, stopped talking, and stopped thinking. The only thing occupying your mind was a feeling of sheer and unadulterated terror. Holy shit. When you regained your ability to think straight you began to scream again.

“I said quiet. You humans have a tendency to think that by being louder, you are more powerful. This is untrue.” It spoke again, you squirmed and struggled in the net, trying to spot what was speaking to you. Only to realize sir was directly below you. And it was beautiful

It was what appeared to be the tallest woman you had ever seen, with long red hair that spiraled in curls, she had honey eyes and flecks of what looked to be fold scattered around her face and body. Most noticeably however, she had wings protruding out of her back, beaten and broken, she was such a beautiful creature. It made yoh want to trust her. You stared in awe and she stared right back. A look of confusion almost crossed her face at your distraught star, and she sniffed the air.

“I do not smell malice on you, you do not have the scent of one who has harmed another. Why are you out in my woods?” She questioned, that look of confusion now mixed with a slight show of… sympathy? This is not what you envisioned, they had called these angels horrid and beastly creatures. But this one seemed… nice.

You said nothing. Still staring at her.

“I said speak” she commanded, and you felt the urge to follow whatever she said. Her voice was so soft yet still so brutal. It was the most terrifying and most bueatifuk noise you had ever heard.

“I-I was banished from my village, and I have gotton lost. I- I’m sorry. Please forgive me, I never meant to wander this far off the path” you apologized, but it was obvious that it was more along the lines of a plead for mercy. Her stance or face didn’t change, but you could tell that she was thinking hard about something.

“And what did you do to deserve such a punishment?” She scrutinized, there had to be something. It has been a very. Very longtime since she had found a human in her woods, especially such a young one. Most of her companions had long since turned into stone, and she was left all alone.

“I don’t know. I-I think I am paying my parents punishment for them. Please- just let me down and I will be on my way.” You begged the woman, or was she a woman. Do angels count as people?

“Humans are so cruel. They cast out those who have no ability to grow. It simply isn’t just” she huffed out a breath of air, but unlike your own which came out puffy and white with the cold, hers was unaffected. She reached up to to the net you were trapped in and begrudgingly began to pull and poke at the protruding ropes.

“P-please” you couldn’t get rid of the stutter, as adrenaline in your veins had run out, replaced by fear now.

“Nonsense child. You have given me no reason to bring harm to you, you need no repentance. What you need is warmth, if I let you go now you will fall ill and die.” And with a cut from a golden blade she pulled out of nowhere, you were gently slid into her hand, she held you close under one of her silky white clothes ghat surprisingly brought you much warmth.

Then, the conversation ended and she began to walk. Everything she did was just outer worldly, her footsteps in the snow felt so light yet she also weighed down the ground, the way she held you was so affirmative but still gentle. There was just something with her that you couldn’t get over: her hair bounced with every step and at some point all you could focus on was the way the wind blew past her.

“Are you going to hurt me?” You auenstioned for Bou the fourth or fifth time, she smiled and looked down at this silly girl. Something about you jsut nade all the loneliness inside her cracked soul disperse. The way your face was littered with little scars and sun spots, the way you just felt so pure, so clean, the way you were so alive.

“For the last time, if I wished to hurt you I would have already. Now hush, focus your mind on getting warmth. I’ll have to bathe you and get you some clothing. You also could use some food. I will never understand how humans could be so cruelly” she spoke, more to herself than to you. You sat cupped under the rope, and did what she told you to do. Your fingers were still greenish blue, but you could feel your face again finally.

You did this for quite the long time until her airy footsteps slowed, and you peeked out from under only to see somewhat of a home, it was huge and covered in marble and gold , something fit for a god but instead gifted to and angel.

“Now, before I do anything. What village are you from? I cannot imagine it is the most wealthy place?” She asked you and untucked you from the nook in her robe. You stared up at her for a few good, slow seconds. Before answering.

“I’m from the village directly east to the woods, I believe it’s called coy but I might be wrong” you answered, being scared to meet her in the eyes, you just stared at the house around.

“Thank you, you do not deserve what they have done to you child. Now let us right their wrongs. Come. We’ll get you bathed”

———

By the time she had finished bathing you and dressing you, which was awkward enough in itself as you had never had anybody other than your mother see you fully naked. And she had no clue what the normal human reservations and boundaries were, it was almost a full two hours of her trying to get you to take the shirt you had on off.

After that, she fed you the most luxurious meal you had ever seen, let alone eaten. You had no idea where she had gotton all this food from, but she seemed more than happy to share. You weren’t even sure if she ate anything at all.

The clothing you were given was odd, but comfortable, it was styled similar to hers, however you weren’t adorned in gems and gold as she was. You had no shoes, but the floor In Here was soft and smooth as opposed to the ones at your home.

She bandaged the scratch marks on your feet and arms from being rough hauled up by the rope trap, and made sure to wrap your fingers and give you a few blood-warming human medicines from her cabinet. She worked very efficiently and quietly, only talking to gosh when you were clearly in pain. She just had to help you, after all that’s what she did, she helped people. Only good people. But people all the same.

And you were a good person. So she loved you.

You hadn’t realized just how tired you were until she had let you lie down next to her, which was comfortingly soft considering she was around 9 or 10 feet. As your eyes slowly drifted shut she sang that melancholy song that you always heard coming from the trees at night. But now instead of terrifying, it was so bueatiful, much like this creature.

“Go to sleep little one . We will talk about your living arrangements here in the morning. But for now just get yourself some rest.” She hushed when you tried to sit up in attempts not to bother her. She stroked your head with her gentle hands, and made sure you feel deeply into sleep.

“Thank you. I owe you my life”

With those words your eyes shut. But hers stayed wide open, she stared off with hate for the human world around. How could anybody harm such a sweet thing as you, it baffled her, confused her, but most of all. Made her angry.

She would burn the village of coy down for what they did.

And with it, she would burn the people.

She would make sure of it

—————————————————

Guess who’s back (kinda). Don’t you just love it when a two week break turns into four or five months🥹

Anyway here’s just a little Drabble that I’m writing at 12:22 am.

Thank you for reading, also, any thoughts on if/how I should continue this?

#platonic obsession #platonic yandere #soft yandere #yandere platonic #yandere soft #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere angel #yandere fallen Angel #fallen angel #angel #fallen #fem reader #oc #yandere angel x reader #yandere oc #obsessed

[icallhimjoey]

Can you write joseph quinn x reader where they are in relationship for over a year. Joseph is in America just for three weeks and one day y/n feels really bad but she thinks its just period cramps, but as the time goes by, she feels worse and worse. And when she finally decides to go to the doctor she finds out that was a miscarriage, and its even more shocking because she didnt know she was pregnant. After few days Joseph comes back and finds out what happened

girlie are you okay?????? i got you, though um, so, big trigger warning obviously! wordcount: 2K ----------

And he wasn't there  

At what point do you call an ambulance?

  “Hey,” Joe sounded far away through the phone.   “Hi,” you voice was strained as you held your breath.   “You alright?” Joe was immediately concerned, you knew he was only asking because of the way you sounded down the phone, so you were quick to calm him down.   “Just cramps, I’m fine,” you managed a chuckle to convince Joe you were fine. “Was your flight okay?”   “They put me in business class,” Joe said.   “Oh wow, very cool,” You were in pain though, the cramps in your stomach were quite literally overtaking you. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you were doubled over on the sofa, trying to breathe your way through it. You knew it’d pass eventually.   “Are you sure you’re okay?” Joe could hear the pain in your voice, in your breathing.

   “It’s just period cramps, I’ve taken something for it, don’t worry” you lied.   You weren’t on your period, and come to think of it, you weren’t quite sure how long ago you had your last cycle. You hardly ever got period cramps bar some pressure in your lower back, so you imagined this is what period cramps were like. But you didn’t want to worry your boyfriend if you didn’t need to. He was busy at work and should have his focus there. He would only be in LA for three weeks; enough time to get as many meetings and auditions in as possible and to also hang out and enjoy the city. You didn’t want to ruin that for him, so you decided to downplay whatever was happening to you. Honestly, you really didn’t see the point. Joe silently decided to trust you and to take your word for it. It’s not as if he knew what period pains were like anyway.

At what point do you call an ambulance?

Days passed, but the pain didn’t. Painkillers only did so much, and it had almost become routine to wake up a couple of times in the night to stock your body up on them. The only true comfort you had found was in the shower, when you crouched down on your knees and doubled over to let the hot water hit your lower back. It didn’t completely vanish the constant pain, but it would relax you in waves. The water had to be scorching hot for it to work though, and the fleeting couple of seconds in between the cramps were almost euphoric in comparison.

At what point do you call an ambulance?

It neared on two weeks. You had to call in sick from work, the nagging pain had turned into stabbing and you felt like you were immersed in concrete. It had been a while since you got an actual good night’s sleep, you were lucky if you got any after 4am. Broken nights were doing a number on you, and when you woke up for the 5th time one night, something felt different. There was a pressure in your lower stomach, a type of pain you hadn’t felt before. It felt like an add-on to whatever was already going on inside you. You seemed unable to relax your stomach at all, trying to stop flexing only worsened the pain. When you shifted, you could feel wetness between your legs, and it shocked you fully awake in a panic, tears instantly prickling in your eyes. Throwing the covers off of you body, it was too dark to see properly, but the cool air let you know that it was bad. You could feel it down past your knees, and when you flicked on the nightlight, you were met with a scene straight out of a horror film. The blood was bright, darker where it had soaked the mattress, and you winced in pain.   At what point do you call an ambulance? Was this it? Did you think you could drive still? Maybe. You really didn’t want to be a bother to anyone. You could drive still. After trying to clean yourself up as good as you were going to be able to, the largest tampon you could find inserted, and a pad in your underwear for good measure, you decide to drive over to your GP’s office. It was early, but you would probably get there just as they’d open their doors for the day.   Sweaty and shaking, you walked into the waiting room. The assistant behind the desk seemed preoccupied with her first cup of coffee of the day, and something on her computer screen. You wished Joe was there.   “Morning,” you tried to catch her attention. “I didn’t make an appointment, but I was hoping to get something looked at today?” You were too polite. “No appointment means you’ll have to wait until the doctor’s seen everyone with one,” she started, but then she looked up. “Oh,” you looked like you were about to vomit and unbeknownst to you, there was blood stuck in your hair close to your forehead. “Yea you can come on through,” she motioned to a door on the side of the waiting room and you made your way over as quickly as you could.   “How long has it been this bad?” The GP sounded stern, and you knew it was stupid, but you were afraid he was angry with you. Like a schoolteacher, or your dad would be angry with you when you’d done something stupid.   “The pain? Couple of days.” You hissed through pain as he pressed on your stomach. You could feel more blood escape you right onto the paper of the table you’d been placed on. “Define a couple.” Even sterner. You tried to find the eyes of the assistant, she seemed much nicer. “Maybe like… thirteen.” You winced at your own answer, knowing it wasn’t what they wanted to hear.   You could see your GP and the assistant make eye contact.   “Should’ve gone to A&E.” he said softly to his assistant, almost under his breath, before stepping back to a desk full of instruments. The assistant noticed the panic rise in your body and smiled warmly at you. It helped, but only a little.   “Were you trying?” she searched your face for an answer. “For a pregnancy?”   This wasn’t helping your panicked state, and you shook your head no. Her eyebrows scrunched up empathically.   “Darling, it’s looking like you’re suffering through a miscarriage currently.”   Your brain shot to an image of Joe. Shit. Instant tears. Joe wasn’t there. You wished he was with all your might, but at the same time, you were glad he wasn’t. You’d no idea how he would react to this, and having been given the space to process your thoughts in your own time felt right. Did Joe even want children? It wasn’t like you’d ever talked about it together – you’d only been going out for a year. What were you even thinking? You wouldn’t need to talk about it, you weren’t pregnant: this was a miscarriage.   You were told there was still some pregnancy tissue left in your womb. Not a lot, your body seemed to be passing it naturally. If you wanted to, you could just wait it out – expectant management. They also offered medicine that would help work the tissue out of you, or you could even go in for surgery to have it surgically removed. The risk of complications was small, for all three options, but to you, all options sounded awful and you wanted this over fast.   On doctor’s recommendation, you were sent home with tablets. And painkillers. And a pregnancy test to take in a few weeks to make sure it’d be all over. You spent the rest of the day in the shower, involuntarily watching what made it’s way out of you. The amount of literal flesh that passed was shocking, but at least the painkillers worked. What you didn’t expect was the brain-space the lack of pain gave you to think about what was actually going on. Logically you knew that this wasn’t a human life you were washing down the drain, but your body had been pregnant. Even if it had been for just a few weeks, you couldn’t get it out of the forefront of your mind.   And Joe wasn’t there.   You were exhausted and cried at the sight of your bed. When your phone rang, you didn’t answer. You knew it was most likely Joe calling, but you couldn’t muster up the courage or energy to talk about this now. And what else would you talk about? The fucking weather? Your breath would hitch in your throat every couple of seconds, there was no way you could hide this, so opting to let his call go to voicemail seemed like the sensible thing to do. For now. You would tell Joe when he’d get home in four days, and this way you wouldn’t be a bother to him. It wasn’t as if he was in any position to help you from across the Atlantic anyway.   A few days passed and the pain had mostly subsided. The bleeding you were experiencing felt like a normal period, but mentally, you were not okay. You were snappy, easily triggered and would take anger out on things and people that didn’t deserve it at all. You had taken a shot at cleaning your bed and ran a bloody laundry of sheets, towels and flannels which only made you more annoyed when you realized it wouldn’t get clean with just the one cycle. For the time being you settled on your mattress being ruined. At least your side of the bed was anyway, and you’d slept on Joe’s side for a few nights before actually mustering up the strength to attempt to clean that too.   It's late when you hear the front door open. Joe’s home. The sound of him walking in, trying to be silent in case you were already asleep is enough to hitch your emotion way up into your throat. It had been creeping up there all day, but you’d managed to calm yourself down enough, doing your very best to distract yourself from everything you didn’t want to face.   You’re sat at the dinner table, a warm mug of tea in hand, and when Joe turns the corner the sight of him makes you sob. He’s all brown eyes, soft curls, crinkled shirt and kind expression – all together too much for you to hold it in.   “Oh sweetheart,” Joe rushes to hug you. You can smell the airplane on him still. “Was it that bad? Did you miss me that much?” he’s joking. You have no idea, you think. You’re not able to answer at all, and it alarms Joe slightly. Your crying seems a bit much; you hadn’t been answering many of Joe’s calls, and messages had been short and sweet. He thought you’d just been busy, didn’t have the time to miss him while he was away, and he’d been glad for it. It meant you wouldn’t have had the time to dwell on lonely thoughts of being apart for 21 days. Joe had been on trips before, and so had you, and you always said, ‘no news is good news’. You always did just fine not seeing each other for a little bit. So why this reaction?   “It’s okay, I’m here now,” Joe soothes, but you know he doesn’t get it. When you move out of his embrace, enough to look at him, but not breaking contact, he uses his thumbs to wipe your cheeks before kissing you. And he’s smiling, and you know he’s doing it to make you feel better, but it has the opposite effect. He takes time to scan your face and notices how tired you look. Exhausted.   “Hey, what’s wrong?” Joe’s soft concern is about to break you, you can feel it in your chest. But how do you say what you can’t get out in words? You take his hand instead and lead him to your bedroom to show him. Your attempt to clean it had barely made a difference, it was very evident that you’d bled through the sheets as the mattress was still sporting a dark brown patch on your side of the bed.   “Don’t worry,” Joe chuckles, thinking that the problem was just you getting the bed dirty. He reassures you it’s fine, you can just get a new mattress, no need to worry. You don’t get it, you think. But how could he? You’d spoken on the phone about cramps, and you had said it had been your period.   “No,” you squeeze your eyes shut and attempt a big breath through a snotty nose, the action forcing hot tears down your face.   “I miscarried.” You’re unsure how your vocal chords manage to squeeze the words out of you, high pitched and shaky.   Joe just looks at you for a second, waiting to see if you’d tell him you were joking. It’s a mixture of shock, empathy and hope. “You what?” But you’re not joking.   “Baby,” Joe says on an exhale before pushing you hard into his chest, one hand tightly around your head as you sob into his shirt, the other just as tightly around your back. The feeling of protection washes over you. Too late, you think to yourself. This is what you needed days ago. Weeks ago. Joe hadn’t been there, and Joe could shoot himself in the head for it. He would’ve come home early, cut his trip short without second thought. But he knows you would’ve never allowed it.    “I’m here,” Joe shushes you when he feels the strength with which you’re holding onto him. “I’m here now.”

#requested #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe x reader #joseph x reader #fanfiction #stranger things 4 #joey quinn #and he wasnt there

[throttlegainwell]

Resubmitting safelight and strange is your language for the WIP ask because it’s possible tumblr ate it (not rushing you if you already got it!).

Oh, tumblr definitely ate it. Thanks for resubmitting! And for playing, in general.

All of this answer is going under a cut because both of these stories are potentially deeply upsetting, in very different ways. Warnings are below. I'm so, so very serious about this, you have no idea. (It's also just an embarrassingly long answer and for that I am so sorry, but I kind of desperately want to talk about them. You've tapped a well.)

So. Safelight.

Major spoilers ahead! But more importantly, discussion of CSA, incest, and underage sex work/sexual exploitation. This is a story about abuse, stigma, and how communities respond (or don't respond) when members are in need.

Here's the broad synopsis straight from my notes:

Post-S2, pre-S3. The rumor starts as Will’s bullies accusing Will of having sex with his brother (because he's queer, because he's a freak, because he disappeared in the woods last year and this year he's walking around with bruised wrists and dead eyes). When the rumor moves up to the high school, with people who are more familiar with Jonathan and have always thought he was weird, the rumor focuses less on Will having ritualistic sex in the woods with his brother because the family is full of freaks and becomes about Jonathan violently abusing Will. As it spreads to the adults, who remember Lonnie (and not fondly), they come to believe that Lonnie sexually abused Jonathan and that this abuse warped Jonathan and led him to abuse Will.

TO BE CLEAR: that's not how ANY of this works. But they're very pervasive, damaging, and cruel myths that I wanted to explore.

So to expand. At first it's just another way to be cruel to Will (whose bullying takes on a new dimension with this rumor--because of course Zombie Boy gets boned by his own brother, he's sick), but it becomes sort of salacious and another way to sneer at the Byers family, and eventually takes on new life and becomes something people are actually worried about as it moves first beyond the middle school gossip scene, into the high school, and then throughout Hawkins. They're warning each other about that Byers boy, to keep their kids away from him--it escalates pretty seriously. And because of the stigma surrounding CSA victims/survivors and particularly male victims/survivors, people start to worry that Will is dangerous, too--that the abuse has turned him into a predator. That that's probably what turned him queer, too. So he's some kind of object of pity, revulsion, and fear.

Will, for his part, feels very alone in this. Will has been withdrawn and isolated during this time because of 1) the Mind-Flayer trauma that he's not as okay about as they all want to believe and 2) the bullying and harassment that's increased in intensity and shifted in focus. He's being tormented and, honestly, sexually harassed. (He doesn't quite realize that that's what happening, but it is, and it's escalating.) This kid is really doing the best he can in a horrible situation because he's tired of being Poor Will, tired of being the focus of his friends' and family's attention and needing help. And they're all happy--his brother is happy for once, his friends are happy after more than a year of being consumed by WIll's horror story. He is not going to take that from them, even if he is lonely and increasingly terrified. And they may defend him without a second thought, but the targeted nature of this bullying is extremely humiliating and scary in new and upsetting ways. He doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want them to know about it. Doesn't know how to deal with it or feel about it.

So Will's part of the story is one of isolation and escalating abuse that he doesn't understand.

Will is pretty sure that he’s not supposed to remember that time his family tortured a demon out of him. He only sort of remembers it, anyway, so it’s not like it has to be some huge deal. But if Mom or Jonathan knew that he remembers, it would kill them. Soreness lingers in the bones for days after the bruises heal. He resists the urge to poke at the tender spots. To draw attention to them—his, or anyone else’s. But there’s only so much he can hide. It looks like someone tied him down and he struggled to get away because that’s what happened. There’s just not any other way to explain the marks. So he mostly tries to keep them covered as much as possible, which, in some ways, draws more attention to them.

Then there's Jonathan. Jonathan is happyish for maybe the first time in his life. He has a girlfriend whom he loves. His Mom is grieving Bob and worried about Will, but honestly she's kind of okay. Will seems better, or at least not possessed, even though he's being kind of distant. But as the rumor spreads, people start to treat him very weird. Weirder than usual. Hostile. He gets fired from his job because "families come here". There's a teacher who's convinced he's evil and keeps harassing him in class, throwing him out for being disruptive when people snicker at him, watching him like a hawk. Ted Wheeler is side-eyeing him when he drops by. Most of the town kind of accepts this about him pretty readily. Not everyone. But enough that, you know, how do you overcome that?

People had never liked him. There had been some degree of suspicion, some distrust, but it never went very deep. He’d never actually given anyone any reason to worry. But they’d never hated him before.

The thing is, he was sexually abused. Not by Lonnie, but by a guy. This is absolutely no one's business but his, and suddenly everyone has an opinion on this hypothetical thing he's never even contemplated talking about. (He does not discuss this or acknowledge it more than very obliquely during the course of the story--that's not what this is about. But it informs his perspective.)

So there are two main concerns for him.

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “You all think I’m hurting my little brother. This kid that relies on me. And not one of you assholes tried to help him?”

and this

“You shouldn’t believe me just because I say it or because you want to believe me,” he says. “You should believe me because I actually didn’t do it. Because Will says I didn’t do it." “What’s the difference?” “The difference is that if it were true and you believed me anyway, Will would have no reason to trust you ever again.” He knows he didn’t do it. But if Will came to her and told her that someone had hurt him, then she should listen, no matter how much it hurts. “Believe me for the right reasons,” he says.

are the first concern.

This town fails him. This town fails Will. It left the Byers to fend for themselves, and it judged and mocked them for it, and, fine, it came out to search for Will the first time, but that's it. And now it's turned its back on him again. Will is being abused at school and no one cares, and by the sound of it, no one would really give a shit if he were unsafe at home. So how is Jonathan not supposed to be furious about that?

And this very rough half-scene kind of illustrates his other big issue:

Steve accidentally implicitly accepts the false wisdom that abuse begets more abuse. Jonathan’s reply—that it doesn’t work like that, that it’s a always a choice and any reasonable person wouldn’t want anyone else to go through what they did—accidentally implies that he’s speaking from personal experience. He freezes, realizing what he’s revealed. “Oh,” Steve says. “Okay. Shit. Sorry that happened.” He thinks about arguing. Denying it, somehow walking it back. But he’s fucking exhausted. “Yeah,” he says. Simple, calm. Done. They’re quiet for a stretch, until Steve says, “It wasn’t your dad, though, right?” Jonathan looks up at the sky, mouth set in a humorless, helpless smile. “Why does everyone think it’s okay to ask me that?” “Hey, Steve,” he says suddenly. “Did your dad rape you?” Steve flinches. “Right. I see what you mean. Not a fun question. There’s a long pause. “He didn’t,” Jonathan says. “But you know what? If he had, no one would care. It would just be another way I’m a freak. Bad enough someone did—did that. If they did. My own dad? Somehow I’d be the one that marks. Not him.”

Joyce, of course, is grieving Bob. She's in a bad place. She's distracted again. But she's trying. She notices the stares and the whispers, but she's used to that. The thing is, when she goes in one day to pay the electric bill (because she's found that she gets some leniency when she does it in person, since they feel sorry for her), the pity is sharper than usual. There's disgust in it. And when someone actually tells her to her face what they think of Jonathan, she gets arrested for cold-cocking them.

Hopper eventually starts getting complaints. They can't actually file a report on Will's behalf, but they're loud, so it's not something Hopper can ignore. He starts asking around, trying to take it seriously even though he doesn't really believe it. What he does find out is that Jonathan has a history, when money is especially tight, of infrequently hooking and performing sexual favors to fix problems before Joyce catches wind of them, which comes out—Hopper buries it. (A local business owner mentions it to Hopper when the rumors get louder; says that Jonathan propositioned him, but that he turned him down. Jonathan later says that no one ever turned him down, when Hopper asks about it. Hopper believes him.)

So there's just... a lot going on in this one. It's extremely sad and concerns extremely sensitive subjects. I'm assuming that there's, like, an audience of maybe two people for it. But I care about it a lot, so I'm definitely going to finish it at some point.

Okay, so, now strange is your language.

Warnings include underage sex work, mention of CSA and physical abuse, mildly dubious consent, and Billy Hargrove's whole deal. This is actual dead dove. (I am an actual dead dove writer, so please no one be surprised by this. I was always going to bring that energy to ST eventually.)

This one is actually being written in full from both POVs. They both read really different, since Jonathan is disgusted with the entirety of Billy's being and Billy wants to play with his food and then eat Jonathan alive. He's not any nicer here than he is in canon. This is NOT a romantic story.

The problem was the car. The big problem, really. The subset of problems was that he needed the car to get to work and Mom needed Jonathan to have the car to offload some of the household errands and, more importantly, allow Will to have a social life while keeping an eye on him. So Jonathan had to have a car. That was non-negotiable. The issue with the car was that it wouldn’t start. Jonathan was pretty careful with car maintenance—to avoid this exact scenario—but it had happened before. Usually he managed okay, and in a pinch, he’d learned to jury-rig his way out of a few minor problems if he really needed to. Only this time he needed parts that he couldn’t just scrounge from the junkyard. So he needed actual money to replace them, but most of his paycheck was spoken for, folded carefully into the household budget, and whatever remained wasn’t really enough to get this job particular done. But to get the money, he needed to get to work in the meantime. It was a pretty vicious cycle. Mom was actually in a pretty good place lately, happy with Bob, confident and assertive for maybe the first time in her life and not secretly crying in the bathroom anymore when she thought no one could hear. But she was busy, and her priorities were firmly on Will—exactly where they should be. So he couldn’t go asking her for a ride to work every day, and soon enough she was going to need him to drive Will somewhere, and when he had to tell her about the car, he knew what would happen: her face would sink and her eyes would clench and those little worry lines would deepen. And his problem would be her problem—would be everyone’s problem—because he couldn’t handle it. So he knew what he had to do pretty much the moment he slammed the hood shut with a heavy sigh. He wrote Mom a note, stuck it on the fridge, and slipped his wallet into his dresser before he left. It was a long walk to get to Main Street, but that actually wasn’t too bad; he needed the time to clear his head, anyway, and get to that place where he could do this. His leg bounced during the first car ride—one of the guys who’d searched for Will last year, who’d pulled over and opened the passenger side door with two raised eyebrows and a skeptical frown, doubtlessly remembering that this was the original flavor weird Byers kid but otherwise nice enough—but by the second, he’d forced his leg to still and his nerves to settle and achieved something adjacent to calm. The second guy was a little chatty—some stranger passing through on his way to visit his sister and her new baby a few towns over—but it was probably good practice, making small talk. Not that he was good at it. He’d never be good at it. But there were times where it wasn’t really up to you, so it paid to at least be willing to try. Anyway, it got him just far enough away from Hawkins that he could get away with shit like this. His lips stretched painfully into the nicest smile he could force when he lied about visiting his girlfriend, melting the guy’s heart with the romance of it all. But it was the least he could do for the free ride—something nice, something cheerful. He wasn’t actually here to do anything nice. But it wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t even that bad. It was just… something. And when it came down to it, there wasn’t a lot that he wouldn’t do for his family. And right then, that involved getting his car up and running again as quickly as possible, so he didn’t get fired. He couldn’t count on being able to hitch a ride every time, and he just didn’t have the time to walk everywhere; he’d get fired if he kept it up long enough. But the solution was in the same place he’d found it the last time he’d been in this position. And with a deep breath, his feet carried him, empty and kind of weightless, right inside.

I just wanted Jonathan and Billy to accidentally, uneasily bond over their messed up family situations and to fuck dysfunctionally. Billy catches Jonathan giving head at a hook-up spot known to be frequented by sex workers and johns. Billy, for his part, is just cruising for a fuck. He ends up persuading Jonathan to let him give him a ride home when it starts to rain.

“Daddy didn’t love you enough?” He paused. “Or maybe too much?” Byers glared back. It was almost like the guy had no sense of humor at all. “You gotta relax sometime, kid,” he said. “You tense up any more, that stick up your ass’ll puncture something important.” “We’re the same age,” he answered, voice tight. “And I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.” “Wait, wait,” Billy said, laying it on thick and smooth as frosting. “Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” He let the innuendo hang in the air between them, just knowing that it wouldn’t be lost on a guy who apparently spent his weekends on his knees. And he was right. Those sharp, bird-bone shoulders jerked even higher. Eyes narrowed, thin lips pressed into a frown so sharp, it could draw blood, he demanded, “What do you want from me?” Genuinely perplexed, too, as if he didn’t know exactly what Billy was angling for. But the stains on his jeans said otherwise. “It’s dangerous to hitchhike,” he said. “You never know what kind of freak you could run into all alone.” Byers’s eyebrows went up in a pointed little stare that cracked Billy up. “Oh, touche, baby.” “Don’t call me that.” “Whatever. But I’m not the one with the reputation here. I’m the safer bet. Promise.” Byers opened his mouth, some kind of pissy little retort on those secretly talented lips. And then it started to rain. Byers visibly wilted like cotton candy under the deluge, like that was the last straw in what must have been an unbearably shitty day and he was just going to dissolve in it and be carried down into the gutter. Like he was just going to submit to the whims of the universe and maybe float along downstream like so much loose trash. Pathetic, really. Wordlessly, Billy pulled open the passenger side door in his car, swung himself across it into the driver’s seat, and waited. After another one of those long, sullen looks, Byers silently approached and leaned down to look in. “This doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “This is just a ride.” “Don’t wound me like that, Byers. I’m a man of my word.” “Right.” Billy was almost impressed at what a snarky little bitch Byers was turning out to be. Up until now, everything he’d seen of the guy pointed to some kind of mute weirdo who only looked up from his shoes to peer through a lens. Probably did it one-handed, like a lonely little creep who couldn’t get laid. But this was promising.

Anyway, they absolutely fuck, and it's not terrible, but they're definitely having two very different experiences of the event.

#answered asks #wip game #i'm so sorry this got so long! #i'm just very emotionally invested in safelight and i've been trying not to talk about it because i know it's such an upsetting premise #so it all came out #long post #very long post #adding that because tumblr keeps deleting my 'keep reading' and i'll feel bad if people have to scroll past this endless post #these two and rainy day are the ones that kind of worry me ngl

[white-tulips]

do you also feel like OMORI has tone issues?

like i struggle to classify OMORI's tone as positive or negative, ironically enough games like yume nikki are very easy to talk about, YN has an overbearing feeling of loneliness and dread, meanwhile OMORI is 8/10 happy wholesomeness and 2/10 misery and horror, and those emotions feel very separate from each other, i think the game struggles by trying to have it both ways and it's not able to construct a proper tone

personally i would have liked if the happy areas were more nostalgic and melancholic than outright happy, because otherwise when the Horror starts it feels very abrupt to me and not really in a good way

it's supposed to be a horror game but most of the time i feel like i'm playing kirby or something

oh for sure, 100%

it’s been a while but I’m positive I’ve talked about this on here before, though I don’t really wanna go digging for old posts right now lol. I have been wanting to make a more well thought out post comparing/contrasting OMORI and Yume Nikki though so ty for brining the topic up, it’s putting the Thoughts back in my head aha

but yes, OMORI’s tone is frankly all over the place, and I really agree that the emotional shifts don’t mesh well together in a lot of ways. I might’ve said this before, maybe not, but I personally feel that OMORI comes off like it’s a first or second draft of a game, not a finished game. I do truly believe that the OMOCAT team could’ve made it work but the final product was just a tonally confused mess. (okay calling it a mess feels pretty mean but like [waves hand])

I do slightly disagree that everything that wasn’t horror and misery was just straight “happy.” unless you’re just talking about Headspace here, which okay now that I’m typing this I think you probably do mean Headspace. disregard my statement actually, I do agree with you then. there are some nostalgic/melancholic crumbs in Headspace that I really love but overall it does get reaaally overshadowed by the sillies. I would’ve loved to see it focus on more of the bittersweetness because I think OMORI handles those types of feelings so well. it probably would have led into the horror much better too!

but yeah. for a game that’s marketed as “horror” it sure isn’t. which is a damn shame. I really would’ve loved a better balance of everything

(also side-note, as a Kirby fan I gotta say those games are genuinely more tonally solid than OMORI lmao)

#ask #anon

[foxieflower]

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wANmsHNInQo

(You can remove the link if you want to)

Kinda tired of gluskin fans, fic writers etc being accused of something. Also funny how she calls Blaire a cute baby, dude, you can dislike Gluskin, of course he is not a saint, but Blaire literally gets advantage of people with some mental illness and child abused victims, and even use their trauma, allowing beatings AND rape, for the experiment to success. People sympathize with Gluskin and Walker since both were victims at some point. Trager gets a pass, despite him RAPING women willingly (though people like him because his design is cool and his BUDDY) before the experiments, and as far as we know Eddie never targetted children or raped women, he mutilated them during some kind of psicosis

I'm gonna be very straight forward, but I cannot stand to watch videos that just berate things I enjoy, so I will not be watching the video for greater context but will however respond to the actual information you sent me directly.

I absolutely agree in the points you made. I find it incredibly contradictory to find people who like one character disgusting but then immediately turn and love the character that's just as bad (or worse). I have gone at length for my dislike of Jeremy and you put it out plainly that is simply due to the fact that he is the one actively creating these monsters. And he knows what goes on within the walls of that asylum. He's a terrible man, but it does make him an incredible villain, so I can totally understand why people enjoy him, I simply do not.

Something important about this game is that it's very blunt, red barrels does not beat around the bush, if they want you to know something about a character, they will directly tell you. So it's easy to very much note that none of Eddie's crimes are that of the sexual nature. He has some wild dialog and very handy in game movements, but if they had wanted you to know of him as someone that executes crimes of that nature, we would have seen in in those flashes of life during the locker scene. Instead we just continue to see a delusional and violent man. Which is a very important thing to note, as when anyone takes part in horror films and enjoyment of the slasher genre, the fact people die is meant to be scary but it's never meant to be some sort of damnation of the monster that is doing it. Or else you wouldn't see so many people enjoy characters like Jason or Michael. Where as if a horror film takes note of a rape scene, it's meant to feel much less like an action scene for your to scream and get an adrenaline rush from, and is very much a tone shift to make you feel uncomfortable and distressed. And not in a pleasant way, it's something entirely different in film versus a villain killing someone.

Now it's to note that from here, it's pointed out that it's obvious that these people in the asylum are essentially just a bunch of slashers, aka, the fact they are killing people is just meant as actions/excitement. It's what you are expecting to come from playing these games. And instead what you are meant ro focus on, story wise, is the underlying information. I'm just going to focus on Eddie to make it easy, but you find his papers that say he has a terrible home life and was assaulted by his father and uncle, you learn that he mutilated women but never did anything uncouth with the bodies, you find out through Waylon that... the scientists are just as gross as his father and uncle were, and that he wasn't cooperative with the obviously bad therapists and would lie to try and get himself in a better situation. People chalk this up to him trying to be manipulative bit it feels much more obvious as a defensive tactic. He's scared and wants out. You are meant to feel for those in the asylum, just like Miles and Waylon do. When he dies, he gifts you with a weakened and delusional message.

Jeremy on the other hand, you get little to no secondary backstory to him, you are meant to see him directly as he is. The man with the money that is making all of this happen and knows it is happening. You are meant to just see him as the man making this asylum work, this terrible place exist. He is only there to kick Waylon at every chance for his escape, to tell him that he wants him dead, he is not there for you to sympathize with. He is supposed to represent the reprehensible company you want to see fail. That's the entire point of Waylon's and Miles' characters, to be the breaking points to destroy this company. When he dies, he is destroyed, he stabs you and then is mutilated by the walrider. He doesn't give you anything to sympathize on.

Now this is not to say that I wouldn't allow people to give him sympathic headcanons, I have read some, I have enjoyed them. They simply aren't my takes on the character and that's fine. I would never send hate to those that like him, but it is fun to bully him as the villain he is.

What does all this rambling mean though? It means that anyone that viscerally hates Eddie snd those that like him while actively saying how much they like Jeremy is entirely missing the point of the first game. The point is that no matter how terrible of people all these variants are, you are still supposed to hate what is happening to them, you aren't supposed to think they deserve to be there and should be without help. No, you are meant to see this as the greater ide aof how mental health is often toyed with and overlooked, how people are often let down and made worse by how terrible many systems are. How money can make those with just as devious thoughts be CEOs while those without are just tossed into a dirty box to be laughed at and prodded, destroyed further. It's meant to show that power imbalance.

You aren't supposed to agree with Murkoff, the point of the game is to see them as the villain. And if you instead are siding with the evil company at the end of the game, either you didn't play it right or you need to execute better critical thinking when enjoying media.

#foxie thoughts #outlast #outlast whistleblower

[badmusejail]

(prev)

Gaster woke up coughing.

He didn't even remember falling asleep in the chair, but that was far from the most important topic at the moment.

The coughing didn't stop, accompanied by a burning sensation deep inside his chest--the feeling defied explanation, but it was close enough to the imagined sensation of someone shoving a blade through his bone and then trying to pry it in two.

He folded his hands over his mouth, tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he tried to suppress his trembling.

He could breathe, at least--a small mercy that didn't last long as he soon fell back into coughing.

Another reprieve and he opened his eyes, shaking, and withdrew his hands. They were speckled with black.

It could only mean one thing. His body was not physical; he had no lungs in which anything could come out of. No--this could only mean that something was wrong with his very SOUL; an unknown substance that was trying to latch onto it, his SOUL desperately trying to reject and eject the unknown thing.

Horror and dread crept upon him, understanding that his SOUL was in a fight for its very life.

Terror and panic seized hold as Gaster did the only thing that felt logical at that moment. Closing his eyes and balling his hands into fists, he called upon his magic, pulling it around his SOUL.

He could feel it--the natural, gentle pulsing interrupted by something foreign and lopsided, squirming lightly beneath the touch of magic and coiled around his SOUL.

A parasite. That was the only word he could think of for it. It was one of those things that you learn about, like the planets that rained acid, or the mind-controlling species that hide in forests, the type of thing that you acknowledged existed, but never imagined actually encountering. Maybe your cousin's friend did, or your friend's husband's brother-in-law, or a celebrity on the news, but not you.

Where the fuck did it come from?

Gaster really wasn't well versed in the medical field, and logically speaking, it was probably the worst course of action, but panic and terror doesn't abide by logic, so he focused his magic around that thing with intent to rip it off.

...but as his magic closed in around it; there was a noise, a low, guttural sort of growling and the end of that parasite lifted; shifted into two long fangs that it plunged straight into his SOUL.

The screech he made was ungodly, even to his own ears, focus on the magic instantly lost as nothing but agony pulsed through the very core of his being. It was somehow pure ice yet searing hot; ripping through his SOUL and sending echoes of misery through every inch of his body. There was nothing he could do but thrash meaninglessly, as the sensation of being ripped asunder and set on fire ate at him from inside out.

He could only imagine that this was what death felt like--the annihilation of the SOUL, the complete cessation of existence as the body crumbled to dust.

How odd it was that thoughts were so clear, that time moved so slow, during these moments of extreme duress.

Was this the fate that the his crew had suffered? Consumed from the inside out by some unidentified thing?

The burning faded to a gentle numbness; neither hot nor cold; almost soothing in its emptiness as it spread from his chest to neck, to arms, to legs; to head, to hands, and feet.

Somehow, he was still alive.

Laying on the floor, now; no doubt having thrown himself from the chair in his frenzy, spread out on his back, blankly staring up at that cracked ceiling with his half-dark vision.

Talk about a bad day.

HOST.

It was a sort of telepathic thought; the type that wasn't spoken words but rather a rudimentary concept flung into the mind to be processed and broken down on a level that could be understood. It was accompanied by a strange, "affectionate" sort of cooing that nonetheless made Gaster cringe, tensing against the metal floor.

No.

Gaster could only imagine that it understood his aimless response; for that saccharine noise stopped. There was no reply, worded or otherwise--and something electric sparked through him, cutting through that blissful numbness. His body arced against the floor, far too abused to let out any noise beyond a small squeak. It was short-lived and he fell back to the floor with a thud, wisps of fire still licking at him from within; a coil of pressure in his chest that made it hard to breathe.

There was a sensation of the thing watching--glaring, even--from its unseen hiding place within him, an icy scrutiny that cut through bone and thoughts.

He thought that it might be a good idea to not piss off the thing currently burrowed in his SOUL.

For as urgent as the situation was, it was awfully difficult to get his body to understand that without an immediate external threat to respond to. For as much as he should be looking at the navigational systems, or trying to rig together an S.O.S., all he could manage to do was lay there, dragging in uneven breathes. He felt sluggish, peaceful even, as his head lolled to the side.

HUNGRY.

With the practiced ease of blocking out any sort of telepathic communication, Gaster shoved the intrusive thought aside, having absolutely no interest in talking to a parasite.

...that being said, it did have a point. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious out here, not eating since before they departed, and now that he was aware of it, he couldn't ignore the gnawing hunger. Luckily, monsters didn't have the complex nutritional requirements that humans and other creatures did, merely taking in a sufficient amount of magic was generally enough to sustain them, but they still needed some amount of input to sustain their operations--or the body would slowly start to use the energy of the SOUL itself to sustain basic life, eventually draining HP to zero and, essentially, starving to death just as a physical being would.

Not that it mattered as there was nothing to eat on the ship.

Why would there be? This was a routine test-flight, scheduled to take no longer than 15 minutes. In the worst case scenario even, backup was a radio call away, rescue taking at most a day to arrive depending on how urgent their other calls were.

But he supposed that only applied to the worst case scenario they could think of.

Thinking...too much thinking.

His eyes drifted shut.

#|| gaster | chorus of nothing. #|| shared | verse | space. #|| shared | headcanon | space. #((i feel like this should have a cw but i'm blanking on what.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

The gender non conformity post you reblogged, it really hits for me in some ways (you reblogged something else that hits even more, but it's taking more time to figure out words since it hits deeper)

Like... well first off I don't really like the term gender non conforming cause it's just like... GNC... like the damn vitamin store my mom used to blow all out money at? Just don't like it as a term, but never thought of better. Not really a label kind of person, but it probably describes me... but only in a way

See I like what I like and I do what I do. I don't really divide any of the world up into masculine of feminine. I like woodworking, I want to learn sewing, these are just activities

Thing is I also liked My Little Pony Friendship is Magic, and I'll tell you that a lot of the people talking big talk about gnc stuff now sure were happy to complain about a guy liking that show and say all kinds of stuff about what a monster you must be

Makes it real hard to really want to interface with that crowd, that and that I feel like I can never actually say what's on my mind and have them listen without trying to decide for me either that it means something about my gender or sexuality, or that it means I'm a bad person

Like for instance I can talk about how I often wish I was a woman, but at the same time I don't particularly feel like one and don't have any interest in presenting differently. Just kind of wish there was a girl in my place instead (could have something to do with me preferring women's company and being raised by a mom who always was talking about how terrible men are)

It's more like if I were a shape shifter I'd probably spend most of my time as a lady, but sometimes shift back to this, or maybe something else... I don't know... don't think on the details much cause doesn't really matter, and can't talk about it much cause when I do people just tell me I'm trans and it's like... I don't think that's it, I've known trans people, actually had someone ask me if I was ftm or mtf cause I made them feel understood enough they just assumed I was... and I don't feel like that

(In part just think that everyone would like me much better if I was a girl, me included, but I really wouldn't want to be a part of it and have her be someone totally different)

Anyway... as far as gender non conforming goes, I'm probably not if you mean not identifying as a guy, but I am if you mean just thinking people should be left alone to do their own shit. That a guy wearing a dress isn't wearing women's clothes, he's wearing his cloths and why should I care or bother him

...don't know... who knows, might even just be being an asshole or a fool with all this. You know, I'm pretty damn far left on a lot of stuff, and like... just want to let people be themselves and be into who they want, called them what they want me to, and doesn't really matter to me their gender. You want to be called he and wear a dress, don't see how that's my business or problem sir, you know?

So I don't know... just don't feel at all like a good fit for most spaces. Kind of ends up feeling like a lot of them despite saying they're against gender bullshit fall right into enforcing it, just from new angles if I'm honest

Not to mention I don't trust a lot of these people cause like I said, you get nothing but horror stories if you ask people about bronies, and whatever I guess that's their prerogative to tell it like they think they saw it

But me, I just saw a bunch of people like me who thought it was a well made show and liked it, who had a big focus on charity. Sure felt a lot like it was people not really liking men engaging with non masculine stuff and then making up reasons to be mad after the fact and looking for stray cases or just making stuff up but... you know that's just my perspective

Not to mention I feel like a lot of these circles don't particularly like straight cis guys, and like whatever may be going on under the hood for me, that's not really anyone's business, and I'd rather them see me as straight and cis if they aren't gonna like that, cause I don't really care to be given an exception... you know?

Anyway, this went way too long and probably is just a bunch of trash, but don't really ever get the chance to talk about this stuff... so there's some of my thoughts on it

Just want to be left alone to be my miserable self however works for me, and kind of just want to see everyone else also left alone to be themselves, and it feels like a lot of people who say they support that can't even manage to just like let a guy were a skirt to the office... I don't know that I've really articulated myself great on this but... I kind of give up

Have a nice day, might be tossing a thought at you about something else you reblogged but... like I said, that one hit a lot deeper. This is just me kind of frustrated, other one... yeah

Take care

I'm a big fan of words like genderfucked that rather aggressively refuse to be comfortable about how they assert themselves in the mental-emotional sense for a lot of the same reasons you describe. I like being imposing rather than ostentatious if you know what I mean about the difference innflavor between the two.

I honestly don't know much about the MLP community. Never really watched it as a kid, couldn't really get into it as an adult, but I knew folks that were and like. It seemed like a pretty great exercise in gender exploration and emotional intelligence skill building.

I think people get unpleasant when they feel uncomfortable, and as much as we are making waves in what's considered normal and fine, there are still these culture lines that are really harrowing to cross for most if not all. I used to play around with that when I still had all my hair. Doing aesthetics that, at first glance maintained a veneer of professionalism and compliance, but which were clearly antithetical if you looked any closer. It made people nervous. Which ironically made them much less likely to be shitty to me. Something about my choices made it hard for them to figure out how to do me harm. Some didn't like that I took that away as an easy option so they doubled down on it instead of being thrown off guard. Not ideal.

Anyway, I suspect that a lot of the reaction to MLP was the same sort of deal. You require me to confront how pissed I am that I can't immediately identify how to do you harm, so I'm gonna start flailing and biting at random like a cornered prey animal.

[chumpovodir]

uggghhhhhh covid finally got my stupid ass and its not so bad so far except that i cant seem to fall asleep at all and i got my first anxiety attack yesterday. so that was super cool and fun :^)

ive been binge-watching and finished the netflix castlevania show so i'm just gonna ramble about that for a bit to keep my mind off things.

first off i gotta say i LOVE what they did with the characterization since. yknow. the castlevania game protags are usually very very boring and one-note (at least the ones i've played. yes, my standards are that low). eng voices are good too, delivery can feel a little ehhh with some of the characters but as far as casting choice goes they hit it outta the park imo.

but woof they rly did my man hector dirty!!! which is a shame because he's one of the very few non-belmont protags and i get it they're mashing 2 different, direct prequel-sequel game timelines into a single continuity WHILE introducing original plot threads they cant ALSO make the dude beat on dracs ass after the trio does it the first time. i want to say i wish we at least got to see a duel between him and trevor like in Curse of Darkness, when he gets his ass handed to him the first time, but with everything that goes down in s3 dude would feel like even more of a punching bag. just feels a little unfair that as a protag character maining his own game he pretty much got reduced to fanservice AFTER they set him up with a bacsktory and motivation that goes past the canon-typical revenge story, while isaac got a whole character overhaul and well-thought out, complete story arc. like i wish they at least let him properly betray drac on his own terms rather than be goaded into it, i get they were trying show him as being easy to manipulate (but why tho....) or carmilla being especially manipulative. and then s3 happened and that was just a....weirdly porny mess tbh.

i know the general consensus is that the show would've been just fine if they capped it at s2, and i tend to agree but it leaves so much unsaid. idk if it would've been any better to make s3-s4 a straight adaptation of Curse of Darkness and shift the focus entirely to isaac and hector since s1-s2 was almost a straight adaptation of the prior game. i think this was definitely a case in a show where they couldve benefitted from a timeskip to make it work, while still accommodating isaacs story arc. like it wouldve also helped s4 feeling rushed af wrt the resurrection of dracula thread if it had a whole nother season to build up to it, and since that thread was straight lifted from CoD anyway.

like. i really did love the mystery-horror vibes of the lindenfeld arc but having it wedged in between the frankly unnecessary styria arc and whatever the fuck was going on with alucard was hard to get through ngl

also folks say the dialogue is cringy but i thought it was fine...? like yeah sure they started getting a little too liberal with the f-bombs towards the end but i think the dialogue that actually mattered was interesting and had alot of personality behind it, and it was fun seeing the characters play off each other.

and im saying all this perfectly aware of all the shit that went down with the show creator, which is why i waited a good whole 3 years after the fact to watch it so please dont come at me for that

#i will say this tho #s4 will never not be funny to me thinking hector played a HUGE part in the resurrecting drac thread #even if its only implied and just sorta related to his arc #and while everyone else is busy shitting themselves with the battle against the Real Big Bad as a result #this dude is just sitting plush in a castle thousands of miles away sipping wine and navel gazing over the future #completely uninvolved unaware and unbothered #when i say thats funny i mean its shit writing

[thisismrswilson]

I made myself watch moon knight first ep. Thoughts:

Why is this man walking with shards of glass in his shoes? Explain. (10 marks)

Intro with so many questions

Man got his leg chained to the bed?

Blonde lady so mean to Steven. If only she remembers her job is also to remember her own co-workers name 🙄

Steven is so enthusiastic and adorable.

So he chain his ankle so he wont sleepwalk. I see

Steven actively talks with people around but could actually focus on his tasks when he's on his own. Fascinating

Where in the world did he end up?

Who is that voice in his head?

This man looking like Brenton Thwaites

Okay so he's Arthur.

FIRSTLY- deciding someone's fate based on a shifting tattoo on your arm is a little stupid.

Op.

Open yer hands Grant

Oop-

Pfft. Yeah the idiot is definitely back HAHAHAHA

Okay I get it now

Its kinda cute and odd relationship having your other personality being the violent one and you being the innocent one. Poor boy doesn't know anything HAHAHA

HAHAHAHA i love the driving lady

Oh Steven can drive to save his life.

Cupcake is an adorable side character

Wait- the hell he woke up with ankle strapped back...

I dont think its a dream though sir

Please dont put that poor fish in a blender sir

Man has slept 2 days straight. Damn living the life.

Poor man is out of it.

How is he gonna live his life normally at this rate?

Ahh yes, his other self cant seem to hide things away from Steven.

A contact number with just Layla?

Ahh his other self is Marc.

Marc is overly a sweetheart to have only Layla's number.

Stop looking for whatttt

He is living in horror genre now

Poor man is in utter shock

AHHH can you all relax on this poor man. He can't keep up

Wow the whole museum is ambushing him. (Actually not really.)

Ok so arthur is the one with glass in his shoes. Not up his ass-

Pfft theres obviously a chaos in him

He's constantly being pulled into the Horror genre.

So Mr Marc became Batman nice.

Jk he's moon knight yes.

What a whirlwind. Im gonna watch the show in silence now HAHAHA

#moon knight #moon knight thoughts

[planets-and-prose]

Meet My OC's: Deborah

Picrew linked here, and as always, more info under the cut!

Physical Description: Deborah is about 5'2" and very pale. She has auburn hair that's kind of in a shaggy, overgrown bob because she cut off her super long hair by herself and it didn't turn out AMAZING but she doesn't care that much anyway so it lives. She wears kind of bulky clothes, slowly leaning a little more butch but "acceptably" so, jeans and flannels vibes. Green eyes, wears glasses, and has hearing aids because she has quite a bit of hearing loss (since she was young). Is more heavyset, definitely the least athletic type build out of all of them.

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planets-and-prose

Summary: As many of those who've attended one know, college campuses are some sort of insular world of their own. They're tiny communities, full of burnout, existential crisis...and, well, in the case of a mid-sized private college known for its environmental studies and biology programs, there are...things beyond human understanding.

In a series of short stories, follow five individuals in various stages of their own journeys as they band together to keep their community safe from any forces that choose to harm it, and attempt to better understand this new world that they've been thrust into. And...also, try to maybe not die in the process. That's important too.

Genre: NA...Urban Fantasy

Themes: Found Family (if I ever don't put that, please assume I've been replaced), the American college system, stages of life, personal growth, marginalization, lgbt+ relationships, community.

General Triggers: mentions of discrimination, probable violence, definite body horror (transformations specifically), general trauma, language, more will be added as discovered and all excerpts will be tagged appropriately.

Characters:

Dr. Semira Adams, a sweet 46 year old Southern environmental studies professor/monster hunter specializing in the...unique biological features of the surrounding forest and how it's shifting to adapt to them.

Briar Rackham, a 28 year old TA and graduate student for Dr. Adams. They're a model grad student--straight A's, volunteering with nature camps for kids in the nearby cities, working on an excellent dissertation, LGBTQ+ rights advocate...and a recently turned werewolf.

Also: Worldbuilding re: werewolves!

Achaemenes (Kay),a 24 year old super-super-super senior in pre-med who's delaying his studies as long as humanly possible. Because graduation means there's no excuse to keep away from his hometown, a tiny rural community that's a well-hidden cult, half-populated by fae.

Also: Worldbuilding re: fey!

Dawn Solace, a...well, her body is 21 but her actual age is 39. So let's go with 39-year-old vampire who continues to work with music and theater at this college that she now calls her home.

Also: Worldbuilding re: vampires!

Masumi Yoshida,a 26-year-old whose whole life is a lie. According to her family, she's working on two very intense double majors and holding down an excellent internship on the side. In reality, she works at the chain burger joint on campus, telling her coworkers that she had to drop out due to a family tragedy and is just saving to enroll next semester when that's the last thing on her mind.

Deborah McCaen,a 20 year old junior, dual majoring in history and anthropology, with a focus on oral tradition and mythology. After being homeschooled her whole life, she moved away to college and found a love in understanding the "demonic creatures" told of in the fantasy books she wasn't allowed to read as a child.

Writing:

To be added as more is posted!

#continuing ed sots#wip intro#new wip#paranormal#supernatural#supernatural elements#werewolves#no vampires yet#yet#fey#fae#urban fantasy#fantasy#continuing ed: sots… See all

planets-and-prose

Last Line Tag

I was tagged by @the-down-upside-finch (their post is here)! So here this is! :)

Half of [Briar] wanted to help Dr. Adams and make sure their favorite professor, basically their surrogate mom, made it back safe, and the other half wanted to run home, go back to bed, and hope this was all an awful, fucked-up dream.

No tags for now, basically an open tag, bc I have like two more of these that I'll do throughout the evening! :)

#tag game#continuing ed sots#thank you for the tag!!#oc: briar

planets-and-prose

Meet My OC's: Dr. Semira Adams

Full Name: Semira Naomi Adams (Maiden Name Baker)

Age: 46

Gender: Cis Female

Sexuality: Heterosexual (yes I know, I finally made a straight OC)

Occupation: Tenured wildlife biology professor/researcher by day, monster hunter by night.

#oc: semira#oc: dr adams#ya bitch cannot decide on a tag#continuing ed sots#continuing education#meet my ocs#oc questions… See all

planets-and-prose

Continuing Education: Vampires

Basic Info: Vampires are undead creatures who are mostly human, but whose bodies function essentially like someone in a coma’s would. They can transmit vampirism to other individuals as well.

Creation: Vampires are made by one vampire sharing blood with another. In rare, occasional cases, saliva can do it, but this has only been recorded in highly immunocompromised or immunosuppressed individuals. For this to work, saliva would have to enter the bloodstream directly during a bite.

#continuing ed sots#my worldbuilding#worldbuilding#my ocs

planets-and-prose

Meet My OC's: Deborah

Full Name: Deborah Esther McCaen

Age: 20

Gender: Female. But said with all the confidence of that person raised super sheltered who just learned about gender being a spectrum. (Spoiler: a they will sneak into the pronoun list at some point in this story. Not at all based on real experiences--)

Sexuality: Straight. But, again, said with the confidence level of someone who has never understood what sexual attraction is much less how it might apply to someone of the same gender. (Spoiler: this too will change lmao)

Occupation: Student, studying a fun little history/anthropology double major, focusing on oral tradition and myths. And who maybe reads a bit too much about cryptids.

Physical Description: Deborah is about 5'2" and very pale. She has auburn hair that's kind of in a shaggy, overgrown bob because she cut off her super long hair by herself and it didn't turn out AMAZING but she doesn't care that much anyway so it lives. She wears kind of bulky clothes, slowly leaning a little more butch but "acceptably" so, jeans and flannels vibes. Green eyes, wears glasses, and has hearing aids because she has quite a bit of hearing loss (since she was young). Is more heavyset, definitely the least athletic type build out of all of them.

Personality: Deborah makes the word "awkward" seem put together and smooth. She was homeschooled and oh boy it shows. She does not know about most social norms and was INCREDIBLY sheltered from anyone outside her church, so like...making friends? Normal conversation? Not really. She also definitely has a touch of the 'tism, and that manifests in both struggles reading social cues and not quite realizing that when people ask "what type of stuff do you like?" that a 30 minute rant about Mothman is not perhaps the most socially acceptable response. But she takes promises and bonds seriously, a stayover from the religion she was raised in, and is loyal to a fault to the people who give her time of day.

Other Important Stuff: My lovely little disclaimer here. I don't mean any disrespect to the way that I'm portraying the LDS faith, I'm just portraying some experiences that people who had adverse experiences with the church might have had, particularly as a queer person. I know a great number of individuals who find a lot of comfort in the church, but as someone who did not, I want to tell that story too.

#continuing ed: sots #continuing education #my oc's #oc: deborah #my writing #my wip

[butterflies-and-blades]

Session 28: Puppet Strings

I would have rather still been chained to the wall with my arms and legs painfully stretched apart than where I eventually found myself. I wasn't sure how many days I had been in Sala's basement; without any windows to let sunlight in, the barebones room existed just outside the regular cycle of day and night--perpetually leaving only a disorienting nothingness in its place. Somewhere in that time, though, she must have decided she could have more fun with her new toy if it wasn't strung up on display.

She had undone the chains without any warning, leaving me to fall forward and cling to her for support. I would have rather pushed her away and let my wobbly legs crumple beneath me, but I was still lost to myself under the sweetened haze of her charm. Instead of scrambling toward the stairs or conjuring a blade from my bracers that she hadn't stripped me of, I nuzzled into her--draped over her shoulder like a luxurious pelt, worn only to be shown off. I looked up at her; if my face wasn't buried against her, it was nearly impossible to focus anywhere else. She looked down at me with a glitter of amusement in her black eyes, and I am grateful that I didn't say anything else to humiliate myself.

I doubted I was special. I wondered how many people she had put through this hell before.

I'm not sure how long we were like that when the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairwell.

I glanced to the side just enough to watch Verca, Talo, and a woman I didn't recognize--a brunette elf with long hair, bangs that covered her eyes, and a long-sleeved black dress--pour into the basement. For the first time since I had climbed out my window, the dread and nausea that had been climbing the inside of my stomach eased, even if only for a second. 

There was another Sala waiting in the center of the room; she'd been expecting them. A fight broke out without hesitation.

"The undead are in the back of the room," said the brunette, pointing. Her voice was steady, almost detached sounding. A few seconds later, the heavy darkness that had clung to the wall behind Sala and me cleared. The weight of the group's eyes pressed into my back. A renewed wave of shame made me too aware of how close I was to Sala. I wanted to tell them that this wasn't me--that I was just as disgusted in myself as them--, but all I could do was smile dumbly at the pink tiefling at my side.

Moving under the guide of an invisible force, like a puppet pulled by hidden strings, I stood up straight--surprising even myself. My legs still felt as flimsy as cooked celery and my feet still ached, but that hardly mattered when I wasn't the one actually responsible for the shift. I was kept up by Sala's will.

My bow materialized in my hand. My arms came up--readying the bow and aiming and firing, all without my direction. Horror filled my lungs like water as I watched the golden arrow fly. I was lucky that it embedded itself in the stranger, rather than Verca or Talo. A trill of laughter forced its way up my chest and left a putrid taste in my mouth. I didn't want any of this.

Verca ran towards the real Sala. The air in the cold edge of the basement prickled with heat as he got close; his full attention was anchored onto her, his face a steely visage of fury.

With Sala in front of him and me behind, he was all but surrounded. I silently thanked Talo for Enlarging him at the beginning of the fight. My bow melted in my hands, forming the long scythe I had yet to use in a fight before then. No more than a passenger in my own body, I watched my focus narrow in on Verca. I felt my hands squeeze the handle of the scythe, and I wished I could have shoved the blade between my ribs to stop it from finding a different target. But I was a puppet, and puppets didn't have that kind say over what they did.

I didn't want to be there. I would have rather fallen into the darkest, most isolated corner of my mind where I couldn't know what was happening in the world than watch myself attack Verca.

Sala shifted her stance, and Verca was ready to follow wherever she went. I felt the forced amusement fall from my face as my mouth opened. "Stay," I said--somewhere between pouting and pleading. The magic tingled on my lips. He turned toward me, the fire behind his eyes softening--I don't know if in apology or regret--, and then turned away, resisting the Command. A blossom of relief bloomed in the corner of myself that I was tucked away in.

A familiar metallic glint sparkled across the ground like a dusting of snow before shooting upward in a razor-sharp line of blades, nearly dividing the room in two. Verca and the brunette were directly caught in the spell's lingering path.

Not much longer, Verca was falling to the ground, body bloody and limp. Panic threatened to pull me apart, like I was a half-melted snowman left to be sundered into a million powdery pieces by sharp blizzard winds. He was here because of me--because I hadn't been able to do anything to help myself. The only reason Sala was in any of our lives was because I didn't do my job well enough during that first watch. He couldn't die here. I couldn't bear the thought that knowing me had been his death sentence.

A string snapped.

Sala's attention moved to Talo. "Kill him," she said with the simplicity of a parent telling a child to do their chores. She spoke like he was an inconvenience that she didn't care to dirty her hands dealing with.

Another string broke.

A distant expression clouded Talo's face. They walked right up to Sala and Verca and reached a single hand toward his chest. They were crying. A single pulse of magic shook his still body.

However many strings were left holding up this puppet, they were all cut at once.

"No!" I yelled, diving for Verca. My knees slammed into the stone floor, and the air pulsed in the area around us. I did my best to pull him close by his shoulders. His ragged breathing evened out and his mismatched eyes opened.

My fingertips tingled; I thought it was my nerves from the pendulum of panic and relief I had been riding until I noticed the sensation continued up both my arms. I looked down. Arcs of bright blue electricity danced through my hair and down my arms; where I still held on to my scythe, they traveled up the length of the weapon, too.

Verca wasted no time in getting back on his feet. Uninhibited by the pain, he held his spear with more determination than when the fight had started.

The haze lifted from around Talo.

The only one responsible for holding me up now, I pushed through the weakness in my legs, stood up, and walked to the other side of Sala. Gold dripped over my vision. Like the last time, I remained aware of myself. I saw the faint light of the wings in my periphery, but I wasn't thinking about them enough to take the weight off my feet.

I was too busy remembering every time Sala had touched me--in the not distant-enough past and the recent days alike.

"Wait." Verca's voice pulled me from the barrage of memories that already had tears gathering in my eyes. I paused, scythe held back, ready to swing towards her. "Something's missing."

He pulled an old spear from his bag. Snapped the end to expose raw wood. Then drove it through Sala, pulling her up on it so that it pinned her in place. Verca looked at me. His eyes said it all.

The cracks she had left in me finally shattered all the way through. I fell apart in pieces, screaming so loud my throat hurt. I didn't like to be loud; it hurt. But it was all I had. The only path out for all the pain she'd forced into the crevices of my heart and lungs--packed so tightly I didn't really know how much was in there.

I screamed. And I swung.

The blade of the scythe lodged itself in her side, nearly stopped by the wall of flesh it met, but forced itself further just enough to make a point. The vibrations of broken bones traveled up the handle into my palms. 

My knees gave out, having supported me through their exhaustion for as long as they could, and I fell into a pile, sobbing.

Sala's body dissolved into a dense cloud of mist, leaving a broken spear in the floor. The mist curled and moved like there was still some sentience in it.

"No," said a firm, familiar woman's voice. A large, white visage hung in the air. A mask we had become familiar with during our busy day in the temple district. Its mouth opened, and heavy winds blew through the basement as it sucked in the mist. The wind stopped when the mist was gone and the mask had closed its mouth. "Never again," it said in the Raven Queen's voice and disappeared.

There was a long pause as we all took in what just happened.

Then Talo plopped onto the floor, and Verca knelt beside me. Exhausted, physically and emotionally, I didn't know what to do. I think a large part of me was still processing it all. Even though I was in control of my body again, I still felt far away from the rest of the world now that the fighting had stopped.

An odd feeling passed over my senses. Not a charm attempt. Something different that I didn't recognize. Talo and Verca said something, but their words were distant blurs of sound that I struggled to focus on.

"Dead things should stay dead," said a voice I was much less familiar with.

I looked up and saw the brunette--standing farther away than she had been before--staring daggers at me through her thick bangs.

[bax16]

Anyways y'all I just woke up from the weirdest dream. I think it was about this guy?

But like instead of an animatronic werewolf toy he was an animatronic human toy? Like dude straight up looked like a cross between the guy who played venom and the guy who played thor. Anyways the dream was set up like a horror movie? Threatenin background music, cinematography, everything. And it was about him bein like the typical evil murderous sentient toy and stuff

Anyways Dysfunctional White Horror Movie Family moves in and he's all like ARGH KILL and they're like Oh No No No We're The New Homeowners We're Not Intruders and he's like Hmm :T

So like the mom has this unspecified neurodegenerative disease that makes her hands shake and she's like Oh You're Such A Darling Let Me Craft You Something as a sign of goodwill and she ends up makin him a toy couch that's like 30% too small to be comfortable?

And he's like Oh Family Good Must Protect and at this point Dysfunctional White Horror Movie Family just completely drops from the narrative and the focus shifts to him. And even though the horror movie music, lighting, and camera angles are all still there it's secretly become a drama? Anyways whenever they're away he just. Is suddenly an actual human? And is just goin around doin helpful handyman stuff around and outside the house. BUT the whole time he's only wearin an unbuttoned button up shirt and NOTHIN ELSE so he's just flailing around outside strugglin to mow the lawn and install flood control (he's uncoordinated bc he's actually an animatronic toy) and his fully uncircumcised dick's just out SWANGIN. And nobody ever comments on it? And just to reiterate, this is all happenin to a horror movie vibe. Cameras across the street, low to the ground, wide panned, the sky overcast and the sun low, with scare chords while him and his wang're flailing about. Anyways you see the family car drive up to the driveway while he's installing the flood control and that's when I woke up

Also somewhere in the middle of this there was some kind of drama about his dad bein disappointed in him. Like he answered the door for his dad (who had his tweenaged son with him) whole hog out and his dad's like Son I Am So Very Disappoint >:T and he's like whuh??? and his dad's just like >:T and he's like OH SHIT AM NAKEY and his dad's like Not That You Idiot! and that was it

#dreams

[entangledmuses]

muse round up

ORIGINALS

Emmy Janson Emmy wasn't always a werewof. She was attacked at the age of 15yrs old one night, when walking home from school late one night. She had no idea what really happened, only that she woke up in the hospital. She was told she had lost a lot of blood, but when she removed the bandages, feeling no pain, the wounds were healed. On the night of her first full moon, she got scared at what she was becoming, and scared that she would hurt her parents, she left. She was found in the woods the next morning, having no recollection of what had happened. She was found by an ALpha, who noticing a young girl, scared, and new to being a wolf, he took her in, and introduced her to his pack, letting her become part of their family.

Heather Ryder Heather is a very straight forward girl. She likes to tell it as it is. She isn't one who worries about fitting in with the crowd. Many think her stupid, but the truth is, she is actually incredibly smart. She just doesn't act like a nerd. She is a curious girl, and despite not being someone who fits in, she is extremely loyal and protective of her friends. St verse:  Heather was in the same class as Steve, and though they didn't hang out much, they got on pretty well. She wants to help the others stop Vecna, even if it means risking her own life.

Isla Perkiss Isla is a Witches familiar. She can shift in and out of a cat form at will. Being a Witches familiar isn’t just about being a cat, a Witches familiar is a guide to Witches. They help them understand and control their abilities. They are also Immortal.

Isla was born before the Salem Witch trials, and if you ever ask her about them, she will tell you the stories of those that were “witches” When in fact, the real Witches were safe, those that were actually born with the gift, and not in league with the Devil, were wise enough to stay away from the horror of the Salem Witch Trials. However, the man she had fallen in love with, a mortal, was burned at the stake for conspiring with Witches, which was just a “Game” led by foolish girls.

Witch familiars have limited powers, just enough to help those she trains and guide.

Walker Benson To the untrained eye, Walker just looks like some girl, fooling the public into believing she can read their futures. In reality, she actually can. Her mother was a precog, and Walker inherited her abilities. She uses her abilities to help others, though, to the world, she is just some young woman, fleecing people for money, she is actually a smart, kind and caring person. 

Behind her job, she does night classes, wanting to become something more than just the local Psychic girl.

Verses: Supernatural creature: Kappa. Supernatural creature: Fae

Kennedy Waite Kennedy was in Highschool when she fell pregnant, she was 17. Her boyfriend said he loved her, would stand by her, so she kept the baby, planning on being able to Graduate High school, then have a year with the baby before planning on joining him at College. However, at 8 Months Pregnant, her Boyfriend decided he couldn't commit to a life with a baby, and wanted to focus on his dreams. Kennedy was heart broken, and the day before she was meant to attend her Graduation, she went into Labour. Her daughter, Arden, became Kennedy's everything. Despite her fears and concerns, the moment she held her daughter, she knew she would do whatever she could to raise her right. With Arden now a Teenager, Kennedy does her best to give her daughter what she can. She works hard, working as a waitress at a place she has worked in for years. Its not a bad job, and her boss has always looked after her and Arden. But she works long hours so that she can send her daughter to college, and give her the life she deserves.

#muse round up! Muses added in the last month