#how to remove curses with prayer

[sodaabaa]

wings a court of thorns and roses

rhysand x reader reader is mesmerized by rhysand's wings and he makes a tempting suggestion.

tw: slightly nsfw

playlist here!

I was sitting in my room when I heard the front door slam. I could feel his anger, a whole level above him, through closed doors. I put the sketchbook I was holding on my desk as I got up to see what all the commotion was about. As I made my way down the spiraling stairs, I saw Rhys storm into his room, shadows trailing behind him. I glanced at Cassian and Mor, raising my eyebrows in question. They simply shook their heads, don’t push him. 

I felt another pulse of anger through the bond, he must’ve been infuriated if he let these surges of emotion pass through the bond. I looked at his door, contemplating whether he’d kill me if I tried to talk to him. I had to try, at the very least.

As I walked across the hall, Mor grabbed my arm. “Hybern used faebane. He’s angry, give him some space to cool down.”

I shook my head, “he could be injured, let me just check up on him.” 

She let go of my arm but I could sense her and Cassian say a silent prayer for me to walk out of that room alive. I rolled my eyes at them, mustering up all the courage I had before walking towards his door.

I took a deep breath and cracked the door open to peer inside, hoping he couldn’t sense me behind the door. 

“Come in if you dare. I won’t kill you but I make no promise to spare those morons in the hall.” 

Humor. That’s unexpected. This shouldn’t be that hard, seeing how he was cheery enough to mock Cassian and Mor still. 

I walked in, my feet shuffling against the obsidian floor. He was standing before the window, gazing at the starless night sky, as if the stars too, could feel his anger and decided against shining tonight in solidarity for their High Lord. His wings were out. Wings. This was the first time I’d seen them. They were identical to Cassian and Azriel’s wings and dark, so dark that it seemed to eat up any light that dared to shine around them. What would it be like, to use those onyx wings as a backdrop for a starry night sky? 

“Are you hurt?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. 

He removed his attention from the window to answer my question. “Not badly. I’ll heal.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Silence. His attention turned back to the mountains in the distance. “He baited me. I should have been more careful. Should’ve known about the faebane.” 

I paused, unsure of how to respond. 

“You can’t know everything. It was a slip up, now you know how to handle confronting him next time.” 

“Next time I see him, it won't be to confront him.” He grumbled. A simple threat, frightening nonetheless.

Again, my eyes wandered to his wings. Imagining the things I could paint. The moon illuminating snow capped mountains, stars glittering like diamonds against the black of his wings. 

If you’d like to paint my wings, darling, all you have to do is ask. 

I was mid gasp when I coughed instead, earning a chuckle from Rhys. I had forgotten about my shields all night since I’d been painting in my room, no use for mental barriers when there was no one around.

He turned, facing me expectantly. 

“You’re not serious.” I said.

He merely raised his eyebrows. 

“You’re injured.” Excuses. I knew that was just an excuse. To paint him, I’d have to get too close to him. I wasn’t ready for that.

No need to be afraid, I won’t bite. 

I cursed him, “pig.” 

A breathy laugh. 

“Cassian and Mor were terrified of you just then. I’m pretty sure they prayed I’d come back in one piece.” I said.

He shifted, his eyes dropping to the floor. “They know better than to cross me while I’m angry.” 

“You don’t seem very angry, quite the opposite actually.”

He hesitated for a second. “You’re a soothing presence.”

I looked away, cheeks heating up.

“Paint my wings.” He said, breaking the silence.

I opened my mouth in protest but hesitated when our eyes met. His violet eyes were full of hope and anticipation. 

“Fine.” I huffed, a sly smile creeped onto his lips. Night Triumphant indeed. 

I made my way to the door to gather my paints but before I could even walk a step, Rhys waved his hand and my paints along with brushes appeared on his bed. 

I shot him a playful look which he returned.

“Alright, lay on your stomach then. If you get hurt any further, it’s your fault.” 

“I’d gladly let you hurt me darling.” He retorted.

I bit back a laugh, “who knew the High Lord of the Night was a masochist. I’d pegged you to be the sadist type.” 

A devilish grin and equally vicious eyes narrowed at me. “I’m whatever you want me to be, angel.” 

I fought the butterflies in my stomach, urged them to go away. 

He sprawled out on the silk sheets, his wings laid out before me. I readied my paints and leaned over him, standing on the edge of the bed to start the base layer. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but it would have to do. Though it seemed like Rhys had other plans.

“It’d be much easier if you took a seat, darling.” Despite not being able to see his face, I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I’m not sitting on you Rhys.” I said. 

“You wouldn’t want the throne to go cold would you darling?” 

I rolled my eyes, “I’m not gonna make this comfortable for you Rhys.”

His response was that breathy laugh, the one that made my skin burn and my stomach flutter. I made sure my shields were up before climbing onto his hips, my thighs on either side of him. 

“This seems pretty comfortable to me, what happened to the promise of pain?” He taunted.

I smacked the back of his head, “let me paint in peace.”

“You make me suffer, angel.” 

“Good.” I replied.

For the next hour, I lost myself in painting his magnificent wings. Time slipped away as I focused on getting every star, every cloud, every snowy mountain right. Rhys seemed to enjoy the quiet as well, his head resting on his arms as he watched me in the mirror. I tried not to shy away from his gaze. 

“I think I’m done.” 

“Finally, my back is aching.” 

I winced, I completely forgot he was hurt. I scrambled to get off him but before I could, he turned onto his back, positioning his hands on my waist, keeping me straddled on his hips. 

“Rhys! The painting!” My eyes widened, the paint was going to smudge. He was laying on his back now, watching me panic before saying, “Don’t worry, it’s dried. I made sure of it.”

A sigh of relief left my lips.

“Then let me off.”

“I don’t think I will.” 

I stilled. 

He was gazing over my face, taking in what was before him. A hand came up to wipe away a smudge of white paint on my collarbone. I shivered when his cold hand touched my warm skin. He lifted himself up with ease, his face inches away from mine. My cheeks were bright red, my eyes dropping to his chest and my hands fiddling with the threads of my sweater. His featherlight touch traveled from my collarbone, up to my neck and stopped at my chin, gently lifting my face to meet his. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, eyes narrowed. His lips were no longer twisted in that arrogant smirk, eyes no longer held that devilish gaze. His lips were parted in anticipation, violet eyes pining with desire. 

“Are you gonna do something or just stare.” Barely a whisper.

Within seconds his hands were gripping the back of my neck, bringing my lips to his in a hungry, desperate, burning kiss. We were wind and water, violent waves crashing against jagged rock. His hands roamed under my sweater, drinking every curve, every edge. My hands mirrored his, wrapping around his broad shoulders and then traveling down his solid chest. I couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough despite being flush against him. He withdrew from the kiss, taking a breath, looking into my eyes, searching for hesitation. I smiled at him, don’t stop. The devilish smirk was back. His lips trailed down my jaw, my neck, my collarbone, there wasn’t an inch of me he didn’t claim. His hands held my waist so hard I knew they’d be bruised in the morning. I didn’t care, I wanted every bruise, every mark he gave me. 

What shall I be for you tonight, angel? Sadist? 

He brought his hand to the back of my head, gripping a fistful of hair and pulling back. I whimpered as he used the opportunity to leave bite marks all over my exposed neck. 

His grip softened, his lips now trailed further down and lightly kissed the hollow of my neck. 

Or shall I worship your body? 

He flipped us over, pinning my hands on either side of head. I was trapped between his strong, tattooed arms. 

I don’t care what you do to me, just never stop touching me. 

He smiled brighter than the north star. His lips brushed over my ear, “your wish is my command,” he breathed.

[ch3rry-wink]

Even in Death

Pairing: curse!Yūta x f!reader

Summary: Yūta has returned from the grave just for you.

CW: +18, murder, yandere Yūta, slight gore, obsession, blood, stalking, smut, co-dependency?

Author's note: I've read a lot of Yūta and I wanted to write something too

If you had known the implications of killing your boyfriend that night, you might have stayed still as he criticized you for that letter you wrote months before you became a couple, confessing your love to someone else. But no, in a fit of rage, you decided to thrust that kitchen knife into his chest and then dispose of his body by burying it in an empty lot.

The police had come a couple of times asking questions; you lied and made sure to lie convincingly. Getting rid of them was easy.

On the other hand, getting rid of the entity that resembled your boyfriend would be a greater challenge. Three days after the incident, a figure began following you, and people seemed oblivious to its presence. A week later, the entity took shape and appeared before you – a more lifeless version of your boyfriend.

He stayed with you, coiling around your body, sometimes feeling him groping you. When he wasn't on top of you, he lurked in corners, staring at you intently. Nights became sleepless, hearing the sound of his nails on any surface, pulling your blankets, and if he was in a good mood, he would cuddle with you.

Mornings were a hassle too; he found it amusing to make you struggle to find your things, causing you to be late.

Nowhere and with no one were you safe. This was confirmed during a night out with friends when the entity whispered a command in your ear, threatening harm if someone didn't remove their hand from you.

Terrified, you left the place, locked yourself in a bathroom, and his head appeared under the cubicle door in an unnatural position.

"Leave me alone!" you screamed. "No, you'll always be mine," the entity slid under and stood in front of you. "You'll never be with anyone else; I'll kill anyone who gets close to you."

"Yūta, I'm sorry."

"Save those crocodile tears," he approached your neck and kissed you from the collarbones to your ear. "You didn't look very sad when you left me in that field that night."

"Is that what you want, a confession? I'll do it if it means you'll leave me alone."

"And how does that benefit me? I want you to be mine like in the old times." The thought disgusted you.

You broke free from his grip and ran to the subway. He followed, sat next to you, and began touching you everywhere. The announcement for your stop came, and you walked through dark streets. Some guys approached, and unsurprisingly, Yūta intervened, blood and guts at your feet – he had always been protective.

Back home, you rushed to the small altar your parents had set up in honor of Yūta. Seeking comfort and wisdom in prayers, but Yūta was guiding the situation, hands on your breasts, lips kissing your neck.

"Fine, we'll be together," he got excited, wanting to take everything right there. He was no longer bound to behave; it was just a hungry curse for you and resentment.

He lunged at you, you fell, and he held your hands over your head. Your eyes filled with tears. Despite the hatred, his love was greater, wanting you to desire him, enjoy him as when he was alive, not just a curse to annoy you.

So he was gentle, caressing your body adoring every part of it with small, slow kisses, gently removing your clothes.

You gasped when his fingers finally found their way to your panties and he moved them aside, made perfect circles over your clit and your hips lifted towards him as you felt his fingers enter, you missed this sensation, missed him - the version that was a sweet guy, not the jealous Yūta, and certainly not the cursed Yūta.

You ran your hands through his hair and pulled him in for a kiss, he followed your kiss and his fingers kept curling inside you at that sensitive spot that would bring you to the end, yet he stopped leaving you there halfway to orgasm.

"I want you to beg for me." He stood up, and you did the same; your body was tense, and you were angry.

"Please, Yūta," you used that little voice when you wanted to manipulate him into doing something; however, it didn't work, and you approached him, following the swirl button shape, and began unbuttoning one by one.

Curse Yūta was very thin, almost bony. You touched his collarbones and then descended to do the same with his ribs, while kissing his neck, your hands reached his pants, and you heard them fall.

He was holding back, playing hard to get, wanting to see how far you'd go to have him. Then, you knelt in front of him, ready to give him pleasure; he stopped you.

"Tell me what you want" he towered over you, looking down with his sad, lifeless eyes.

"I want you... Please don't leave, stay with me, I need you," you said between sobs.

"I wasn't planning on leaving, I'll always be with you," he reassured you. "I promised to always take care of you, but now I need to feel you," he said as you nodded in agreement."

You lay back on the floor, offered yourself to him by spreading your legs, removing your panties and running your fingers through your wet folds indicating you were ready just for him. He directed his cock towards your needy pussy, and began to move it over your folds teasing you and how needy you were. A growl came from his throat as he began to slide his length inch by inch inside you, he stood there not moving just waiting, feeling you throbbing around him. His thrusts were sudden and rough.

"Yūta!" you moaned as he pressed again and again on your g-spot. You squeezed his cock hard, he knew you were close by the way your pussy clenched and sucked on it.

His bony fingers moved to your clit and started rubbing it, your back arched and your pussy contracted on his cock. You felt his cock and balls spasming.

With a firm grip he held your hips and buried himself deeper into you, his fluids filling your pussy until they spilled out; It felt good, like in the old times when he was your boyfriend, because he still was; he was Yūta, a different version but the same Yūta.

Yūta collapsed next to you, you smiled at him your cheeks were flushed and on your eyelashes was still the wetness of some tears.

"I'm sorry" you put your hand on his chest and then moved to kiss him.

"It doesn't matter, we are together now and we will always be together..... You will always be mine."

"Always yours."

[diorcities]

you honestly admire jaemin's patience. it's nothing new, the boy must have enough tolerance to spend all the time with dream. so it's very hard to get on his nerves, you know. you have tried. from stealing his computer mouse when he was editing photos, pulling out his chair, and talking non-stop. that worked for you the first two times that night, when he fucked you and then licked his seed out of your pussy, and then when you rode him in the chair where he was right now. however, jaemin would always remain calm, he would fuck you calmly, and he would speed up when you told him to. eager to please you, always.

you looked at him on his computer, his desk full of tabs with photos of jeno. you knew it was a tempting opportunity.

jaemin was so used to your attitude that he didn't even flinch when you leaned into his chair, your lips going to his neck. you hear him murmur, but nothing else. a small smile escapes from your lips, when you go towards his ear. “why do you pay more attention to jeno than me? i wanna fuck.”

“i'm not,” he defends himself. “we already did it twice,” he comments afterward, embarrassed. you smile at him with tender “then let's do it a third time,” you whispered, sucking on his earlobe. “give me a minute,” was all he said. the answer you didn't want. you snorted slightly, despite the fact that the situation was going exactly where you wanted it to be. “i bet jeno would,” you whisper, “would what?” he asks, absent-minded. “fuck me.” physically, you could see that you hit the nail on the head. and you continued. “bet on it” your words trailed off as jaemin gets up from his chair and pinned you between him and the desk. the muscles in his arms tensing under his soft skin, turning you around, your back against his chest.

his hands remove your underwear, which falls to your ankles, tossing them away with your feet. you feel him drop his pajama pants, and without warning, he shoves his cock all the way into you, causing you to let out a small gasp. his hands push down your lower back, arching your body, his arm across your chest, pulling you closer. and without warning, he starts pounding into you.

his movements are relentless, the sound of the impact vibrating in your belly. free hand going to your clit, rubbing circles before it's replaced with his hand, fingers stimulating the sensitive area. “harder” you manage to say, between moans. “how hard?” he asks, a hint of anger in his voice. you can't help but laugh, half exhaling. “oh, fuck me dumb.”

his arm moves away from your chest to move towards your shoulder, leaning over the desk, beginning to thrust into you. ruthlessly. fiercely. your eyes squeeze shut, your pussy being abused by his cock, pounding your soft spot intensely. again. and again. your mouth spewing curses and incoherent sounds as he fucks you the way you wanted for so long. without being able to spin a single thought. who would know that mentioning his friend was gonna be the catharsis of his behavior? squeezing your waist, twisting your arms for more support, letting him ruin you. “faster,” you exhale, “faster.” your requests are jaemin's commands, being the obliging boyfriend that he is.

his movements increase in speed and strength. you hear him moan and growl behind you, near his own climax. emotions on the surface make your hands travel to your mouth, drowning out silly sounds that come out like a prayer from your lips. feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, your limbs numb, trying to hold on, to his desk, to him.

a wave of spasms runs through you as the destructive orgasm washes over you from head to toe. your half-open mouth lets out one last moan, before succumbing to the desk, your legs trembling, your body totally fucked up. jaemin's movements become faster and more desperate, until his body tenses and you feel his seed spill inside you, leaking from your pussy. he does a few more thrusts, before pulling it out, feeling his warm breath in your cunt, licking his seed, and inserting two fingers in your pussy, catching you by surprise.

yes, it's very difficult to get on his nerves, but not impossible.

[queenlucythevaliant]

Just to clarify my thoughts (since I've had a number of people ask me about it) re: Job and cursing God. There's a big difference between cursing God as used in Scripture and how we generally would think of cursing at God today.

Cursing someone, in the Bible, has a lot of depth to it. It's not just saying "screw you " in anger, it's got a sense of forsakenness to it. It's the opposite of a blessing, a removal of blessing. If the blessing is presence, your face shining on the person you're blessing, then a curse is absence. In some translations, Job's wife tells him to "renounce God and die," which I honestly think makes a lot more sense to modern ears.

Job says a lot of unpleasant things to and about God in his anger and grief. So do the Psalmists. A number of the Prophets. So can we. God can take it if we come to him with honest expressions of our emotion, including those not-so-nice ones directed at him. I don't think there's anything wrong with getting mad at God and saying, "How dare you, you bastard" when you suffer unjustly. You can say much worse, I think, without sinning, though I don't feel particularly inclined to give examples. But as long as it's an honest expression of your heart, I think you're doing exactly what prayer is for. You're presenting him your heart with an open hand. He can use that. Opposite of love is not hate but indifference, etc.

Job doesn't renounce God. Neither should we. But I think when you're truly suffering, you're gonna have those feelings toward God either way. He'd rather you address them with him directly than try to avoid them. Cursing at God in the modern sense is actually a great way to keep the relationship strong and not end up cursing/renouncing him in the Biblical sense.

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, afab!reader with big tiddies, hot springs, Johnny has a major staring problem, Kenshi has his eyes, nipple play, oral, threesome, overstimulation, finger sucking *not proofread, just pure horny

[ty @partycatty for being my enabler <333]

It’s hard work to be one of earthrealms champions, so some relaxation is in order.

The hot water of the hot bath is perfect for loosening your taut muscles, sinking further into the water as you let out a quiet moan in satisfaction. You were too absorbed in the warm embrace of the water to notice chatter from just outside the bathhouse.

It was only when you heard a soft ring of your name, opened your eyes and peeking over your shoulder. Kenshi and Johnny stood there, adorned in nothing but towels around their waists. Your eyes widened comically, your arms immediately covered your chest as you moved across the bath.

Kenshi had the decency to avert his eyes away, a rising pink blush sitting high on his cheeks while he muttered out apologies. Johnny stood silently, his eyes downcast at your chest. With your arms over your chest, it pushed them up, merely having your now stiff nipples hidden behind your hands.

Your eyes don’t stay still for long either. Trailing them down the expanse of their bodies, watching the twitch of every muscle and staring incredulously at the bulges forming under their towels. The bold tattoos that covered Kenshi’s skin fit his character too well, highlighting his impressive figure and making him too good-looking to not stare at.

You’ve been meaning to ask to see more of his tattoos and it seems like your prayers have been answered. You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes above the hem of their towels but the bulges there make it hard not to look, praying to whatever god out there to have them drop the towel.

Words are lost in your throat as once you come back to reality, Johnny is caging you against the edge of the bath, while Kenshi is throwing his towel off to the side. From Johnny’s view, he can see the tops of your supple boobs, droplets of water rushing down your skin. You can see the gears turning in his head, making the first move to show him just how much you wanted it.

You carefully uncovered your chest, leaning back against the edge of the bath and cupping your arms under your tits. Johnny’s eyes raced down, cursing as he slotted his lips with yours. His hands easily found your tits, tweaking your nipples between warm hands. You let out a soft moan into Johnny’s kiss, tugging him closer by his damp hair.

Johnny sat on the edge of the bath just out of the water before tugging you into his lap. He kissed down your face, nipping and biting at your neck. His hands continued to grope your chest, his hips bucking up into you. Now without the towel in the way, you can feel just how hard he is. Warm, heavy and pulsing against your clit.

It didn’t take much convincing before you reached between your bodies to take his cock into your hand. You stroked him quickly, getting too impatient to wait any longer. You quickly sank onto his length, your body shuddering as you took him down to the base. Johnny moaned into your neck, taking his kisses down further. His tongue swirled around your nipple before sucking the puffy bud into his mouth.

The feeling of Johnny’s cock resting heavily in your slicked cunt and his mouth playing with your nipples had you writhing, coming undone so easily around him. Kenshi reeled your head back, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Johnny steadily pumped his cock into you, his thumb tracing circles on your pulsing clit.

You moaned freely into the kiss, your pussy clenching around Johnny. Johnny moans brashly, not caring who hears. Kenshi pulled away from your lips, sliding two fingers against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around his fingers, greedily pressing your tongue to his skin. Kenshi pressed down on your tongue, forcing your mouth to open. Drool spilled from your lips, cascading down your neck and tits.

Kenshi removed his hand from your mouth, making use of his strong hands to fondle your tits. He stood behind you, forcing you to face Johnny as he played with your nipples. Johnny held your hips as you bounced on him, before abruptly pulling you off of him. You whine at the loss, looking over at Johnny with hazy eyes.

He kisses you furiously, moving you to bend over the edge of the warm bath. Kenshi is now sitting in front of you. With how you’re positioned, your tits brush against his aching cock. Stiff nipples brushed against his leaking tip. You press a chaste kiss to his tip, swirling your tongue around his thick head. Kenshi caressed your face softly, as Johnny quickly filled your pussy again, not so softly.

The sudden movement of Johnny bottoming out inside you, had your mouth swallowing around Kenshi. He moaned at the way your throat constricted around him. He gently guided your mouth, shallowly thrusting his cock into your pretty mouth. The constant in and out had you reeling, over the moan as you drowned in pleasure.

Johnny dragged his fingers over your needy clit, laughing breathlessly when you jolted and tightened around his cock. You bob your head slowly, dragging your tongue along the underside of Kenshi’s dick. The constant push and pull of Johnny’s hands and hips had you sputtering around Kenshi’s cock. Johnny presses a hand to the middle of your back, indirectly forcing your head down to the base of Kenshi’s dick.

Kenshi places a hand on the back of your head, holding your mouth at his base as he twitched and bucked his hips. With a few shallow thrusts, Kenshi stiffened, holding your mouth on him as he came in short spurts, coating your mouth in white. You pulled off of him with heavy breaths, too dizzy from the pleasure to focus on anything.

Johnny still had a tight hold of your hips, mesmerized by the way your body shook and jolted against him. Johnny’s orgasm followed soon after, his fingers continuing to toy with your wet clit. Your messy cunt clamped around his cock, pulsing with each sticky rope of cum that he poured into you.

Johnny pulled out slowly, watching as his cum leaked out of you, coating your sore pussy in a scandalous white.

Of course, one round is never enough though.

[alsostheon]

Spiritual Pollution in Hellenic Polytheism

In Helpol, we have three concepts known as lyma, miasma, and agos.

To some, humans are seen as naturally pure beings, but because we are living mortal creatures, spiritual dirt can cling to us and make us impure.

Here, I will discuss these three types of pollution

(Disclaimer: Some of this information comes from my own personal interpretations, and therefore may not apply to the beliefs of everyone)

Lyma

Lyma means "something to be washed away". Itis generally just physical dirt. It isn't much of a big deal when it comes to spiritual matters. However, it is still best to be free of it when approaching the gods.

Miasma

This is where things get complicated.

Miasma is essentially general spiritual pollution. Miasma is something that is completely unavoidable and should not be shamed (well, depending on the cause). Miasma is mainly caused by things related to life and death. This includes sex, childbirth, visiting a cemetery, blood, sexual fluids, etc.

However, miasma has different degrees of severity. More severe miasma comes from acts such as rape, hubris, murder, etc.

Miasma also spreads from people to people. If you walk past someone on the street who just came back from a funeral, their miasma will cling to you as well. This also highlights how unavoidable miasma is. But usually, this kind of indirect miasma is not as bad.

We are not allowed to approach the gods in a state of miasma. Luckily, miasma is not difficult to get rid off (excluding the more severe cases listed above).

All you need to do is wash your hands.

If you get a cut on your leg, the blood is miasmic and therefore you can't approach the gods. But all you need to do is wait for the bleeding to stop, wash away the blood, wash your hands, and then you're good to go.

There is a debate I once had on whether miasma prevents us from praying, giving offerings, and participating in festivals. To me, the answer is yes, but not with prayers. Let me explain why.

In a very simplified description of a certain myth, Orestes killed his mother. This caused him to enter a state of severe miasma and a state of agos (which I will explain later). Long story short, he prayed and asked Apollon to help purify him, in return for a grand offering later on. Apollon heard the prayer and came to help purify Orestes.

In this example, we see that Orestes was still able to pray to Apollon in the worst state of miasma, but promised to give offerings later on.

This implies that prayer is not an issue with miasma.

Here is another example: You don't need to wash your hands when talking to someone, but you should wash your hands if you want to give that person food.

In a similar way, in my opinion, you don't need to wash your hands for a casual prayer, but you should wash them before giving an offering. Although, I also prefer not to pray when I know I am in a miasmic state.

However, this is my own interpretation and others may have different views.

There are other ways to cleanse miasma such as khernips, incense, and scapegoats.

Ocean water is also said to cleanse miasma extremely well.

Agos

Agos is a cursed state and is the most extreme form of spiritual pollution. However, agos is not easy to get.

If you commit a horrible act such as murder, you will be in a state of extreme miasma. However, when the gods notice your crime and get enraged (keep in mind that it is usually not that easy to anger the gods), the miasma evolves into agos.

Miasma is a naturally occurring thing, but agos only comes from the wrath of the gods.

Agos is difficult to remove and is a pretty big deal.

Luckily, you don't need to worry about agos unless you're a horrible person who commits heinous acts.

Aaaand that is my interpretation of spiritual pollution in Helpol. I hope this post can be helpful to you!

Blessed be!

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Five

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

Word Count; 20.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The predator closed in on its prey. 

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx

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[sagau-my-beloved]

Death At The Hands Of A God Pt. 2

Warnings: general sagau, imposter au, light descriptions of violence/gore, you're resurrected after being killed (by Venti), not really angst but not really comfort or fluff either

-

Death was not as dark or empty as you had come to expect...

Was this death? Or maybe something in between—

Yes, that seemed like a better way to describe what you were experiencing, something in between real and unreal, existence and nothingness.

You couldn't think, see, feel, anything, as if you were simply a disembodied form of consciousness, waiting.

For what?

You didn't possess that answer, nor the ability to even contemplate the question. If you had the ability to think, you would have wondered briefly if this was what the characters you played as experienced when falling in battle, a void detached from both time and space.

This state of mere existence didn't last long, or, perhaps, it did. Perhaps it lasted many lifetimes, eons upon eons. It's not as if you would have recognized the difference, no different than how time passed when asleep.

You were pulled passively away, out of that void which welcomed you so, called for you, urged you to stay in its own impartial way. A call you didn't have the ability to respond to, as it simply wasn't your choice.

When you opened your eyes again you were met with something unfamiliar, the only hint of recollection stemming from a strong sense of déjà vu and nothing more.

It took you a moment to regain a sense of thought, of consciousness, remember that you were, in fact, an organic being even capable of having thoughts.

You blinked gently, taking in the scene before you, the soft breeze and wide planes spanning on for miles, the sparsely scattered trees, and the brief reflection of a river. You recognized it, in a way, and something in the back of your mind screamed that you were in danger, as if your subconscious knew of what your conscious self was trying so hard to remember.

It took but a second to move your head downward, your eyes finding themselves looking upon a kneeling form that seemed rather unaware of your presence, despite being directly beneath you. It took another moment for your brain to process what exactly you were seeing and why you felt so stricken with terror.

Oh.

Oh god.

As if having the air forcibly removed from your lungs, you felt the world around you collapse, instinctually bringing your hands up to your own throat where you last remembered feeling anything at all.

The sharp inhale is what caught his attention, what caused the previously silent archon, you had come to recognize as no other than your murderer, to raise his head in an unsure movement of fear and hope.

It was you, oh god, it was you.

The weight of every conceivable emotion that tangibly existed ran through his body, only an underlying inkling of self-restraint stopped him from lunging at your feet. He had been praying to you before your sudden appearance, begging for forgiveness, and what else could this be?

It had been only a month since your "passing", and Venti found himself engaging in ritualistic prayer every day since. It was the only thing that kept him sane with his past actions weighing on him constantly, a way to remind himself that you were still alive in spirit. While your mortal shell may be gone, the essence of the almighty creator would forever linger. It was only during these moments of prayer that Venti felt any semblance of the freedom he lost, the freedom he mourned, so he could pretend, if only for a moment, that everything was no different than how it was before that night.

The month had been the purest form of heavenly torture, and no amount of alcohol or sleep could distract him long enough to even pretend that all was well. His presence all but disappeared from the face of Teyvat, as he simply spent more time staring at one of your many shrines than breathing most days. The death of the creator, the murderer of an eternal god, a curse he alone had to bear the knowledge of.

His restraint broke quickly as you seemed to stumble backwards, creating more distance between the two of you than he was comfortable with.

"Your grace."

Felling your title on his tongue, feeling how it passed through his lips, he dreamed nightly of this moment, when he was able to dream of anything other than you so gracefully falling and the golden essence that seeped from your form where his arrow pierced it.

"You."

His heart fell, dropped down into his stomach, and shattered.

"You grace I—, I..."

Despite his seemingly endless internal thesaurus, the bards' mind drew a blank on what to say next.

What could be said? Was this not forgiveness? Was it not your will to grace him again with your presence after an agonizing month alone?

He didn't know you, not really, not personally. All he could attribute you to was the subtle feeling in the back of his mind, the strange whisper helping to guide his choices, the feeling of being watched over, before his mistake that is.

He knew of your legend, too. All the thousands of songs composed in your honor by heart, the unrelenting chattering of people carried by the wind when your name graced their lips. Every short story and unprovable myth about your existence prior, your power of creation and how you passed that power down to the mortals you created.

He knew the idea of you, no different than how his people knew the idea of Barbatos, though never truly him. Yet, as he looked upon you, past the fear, past your human vessel, there was a sense of deep familiarity that rang out and flooded his senses. A feeling that made him want nothing more than to simply know you, know everything unspoken and hidden beneath the layers of divinity, stay with you always and cherish every new piece of information, no matter how miniscule.

You glanced quickly to the left, thinking very carefully about simply making a run for it, wondering how much time you'd have before he could draw his bow and why he hadn't done so yet. Your body froze slightly at the thought, flashes of your prior life running through your mind and the unbridled fear they brought.

Venti seemed to pick up on your train of thought and couldn't stop himself from jumping into action at even the notion of more space being forced between you.

"I'm so so so sorry. I know I can't begin to repent, but please. I took care of the offender! You don't have to worry about them now—"

While rambling, Venti was inching ever closer to where you stood, trying to get close enough to safely grab on to any part of you and never let go. If he could just touch you, just secure the fact in his mind that you were alive.

Your mind was spinning with all the information, still not working at full capacity, muddled and hazy.

"Offender?" Was all you managed to choke out, wondering briefly if he was referring to your past life.

His face paled slightly at your tone. Did you really, truly not know the reason he was forced to—?

"The one in your throne, the one who took your place... The one who— who ordered your... death."

It hurt him to say the word, physically pained him, as if it was a blade caught in his throat, a harsh reminder of his transgressions.

"I— what?"

Venti had made it close enough to wrap his arms around your legs, clinging on for dear life as he reviled in feeling you, prepared to take any blows from your hand if only to stay there, it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it, and it would be blasphemy to deny anything you were gracious enough to give him.

You jumped at the sudden contact, but it was obvious he meant you no harm, though, that fact was particularly hard to convince your mind as it screamed at you to run away from the offender.

For a brief moment, the Venti you knew flashed in your mind as you felt his hands gripping the fabric of your clothes, clouded your vision with how often you used to admire him, back when this was all nothing more than a game. Just a simple game. The concept felt so foreign now.

You shifted your weight slightly and felt him hold on tighter. It took you a moment to realize he was crying, silent tears adorning his soft features.

What could you do? Was it even humanly possible to forgive something of this nature? Had any other being ever been faced with making this choice?

You had to clear your mind, ignore everything around you and focus on what you now knew. This was real, you were some figure of importance— or at the very least looked similar to one, and your death was ordered by someone who had control of even the gods of this world.

You looked down again at him, how he looked so desperate and utterly heartbroken, how he really believed himself to be the bearer of the ultimate transgression.

Without thinking, you moved your hand to his face, brushing your fingertips against the flushed skin, damp with tears. His eyes opened at your touch as he looked up at you, his hands moving from around your leg to your hand, grasping it tight as he held it to his face. This was certainly an odd form of comfort, if it could even be called that, but any touch from you was nothing but divine bliss for him.

Venti mumbled things against your skin now as he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing again, as if in prayer. He spoke breathy promises of love, devotion, and repentance, of an infinity without pain or sorrow under his watch, how he'd spend his entire immortal life by your side if you'd allow it, making up for his grave sin.

The few words you caught only led to a growing concern. This wasn't the carefree and playful bard you knew, nor was it the caring but serious god who loved his nation, this was something else entirely, something desperate and zealous, something dangerous...

You started to wonder how long it would take for you to regret your inevitable resurrection when faced with an immortal god who would not live to see you part from him again…

[stuckymonkey]

Just a Dream Part II

Bucky Barnes

Pairing - roommate!bucky x reader

Summary - bucky has a thing for his sexy roommate...especially that mouth of hers

Warnings - use of y/n, oral (m & f receiving), hand jobs, p in v, unprotected sex (don't be joker and wrap that poker), fingering, kind of sub! bucky???

Word Count - 1.5 k

a/n - part 2 is here!!! thank you for all the love on part one, I hope you enjoy!

masterlist bucky barnes

"Hey Jamie," I greeted from our kitchen island, cup of coffee in hand. "How did you sleep?" I asked, biting my lip after the question and tilting my head to the side. I watched him visibly swallow. "U-uh, it, it was good. I mean, it was okay." I shrugged, his eyes darting everywhere around the kitchen but on my face.

I brought one of my fingertips to my mouth, sucking on it a little as I watched him grab the coffee that I had made for him. He caught my eye and his gaze flickered down to my lips. "What?" I asked innocently as his eyes widened.

"N-nothing." He looked so adorable like this, a flustered little deer caught in headlights was the perfect way to describe him. I continued to play with my fingers, specifically my nails, "You didn't change your pants, sweet boy." I commented on the very obvious cum stain that he was sporting from last night.

I had gotten home around 11 after yet another very unsatisfying date, only to hear my very sexy roommate jacking off and moaning my name like a prayer. Then, it had all made sense. My attraction was not one-sided. I knew that the long stares at my face, lips and hands were something more.

If only I knew how much more.

"Shit!!" He cursed, spinning around and slamming the door to his bedroom. "Jamie?" I asked, knocking softly on his door. "Honey, I didn't mean to embarrass you, just thought it was cute, is all." I spoke as softly as I could to the scared little baby.

The door creaked open slowly. "I'm really sorry, Bucky. I thought I heard you say my name last night, and I thought that maybe I should make the first move, but-" Before I could finish my awkward apology, he tugged me into his room.

"Sit," he directed, pointing to his bed. "What?" I asked. "Sit," he growled. I easily obeyed, curious and eager to find out where this was going to go.

I watched him pace around the room while tugging on his shoulder length hair. "I didn't mean for you to hear that." he mumbled with his back to me.

"What was that?" I purred. "You weren't supposed to hear that." he grumbled. "I thought you weren't home."

I hummed. "Good boy, using your words." His head whipped to me my direction. A visible wet patch was forming at his tip. "You like that baby?" I asked, uncrossing my legs and tugging my skirt up so my panties were visible through my spread stance.

He gulped. "I'm waiting for an answer, sweetheart."

"Y-yes." "Yes what?" I pushed. "Yes I liked being called a good boy." "So obedient" I praised, causing his cock to throb in his jeans.

I spread my legs wider and leaned my elbows on my knees, giving him a gracious view of my cleavage. "I want you." He whispered, his hands long fallen from his locks.

"Then take me baby." He surged forward, framing my face with his large hands. They felt warm and comforting. He brought my face to his lips, engaging us in a passionate kiss. His lips were so soft and plump against mine, moving smoothly with my own mouth.

His hand drifted to between my legs, his finger tracing over my white-lace covered slit, which was now very moist from his actions. I ground my hips against his finger, trying to get him closer. He separated his lips from mine, gently gazing at my face. He tugged at my top, "May I?" "How can I say no to such a good boy?" He whimpered before removing my shirt and going to suck my nipples through my lace bralette. My fingers threaded through his hair, encouraging the action.

"Wanna be fucked by you," He moaned into my chest. I pulled him up to take off his shirt and unbutton his jeans. "This okay, honey?" I asked, He nodded enthusiastically. I cocked my eyebrow, waiting for his words. "Yes, this is more than okay." He breathed. "Good,"

He stripped until he was stark naked, standing in all of his glory and I leaned back on my elbows and enjoyed him. The beautifully sculpted muscles, his adonis belt and his dark, thick length standing proud between his legs with a gorgeous background of very full balls.

"Wanna see you," he said, starting to fidget with his fingers. "Of course baby," I started stripping slowly, watching as he slowly came closer. "It's okay, don't be shy, pretty baby." He nodded and sat himself on my now bare lap.

"Comfy?" I asked. He nodded. I understood that he was feeling vulnerable right now, so I let him use gestures instead of words.

"Are you familiar with the traffic light system Bucky?" Another nod. "What's your colour honey?" "Green, so green".

I leaned back and once again enjoyed the way he looked. His hips were perched on mind, his thick thighs around my waist as I laid on the bed. His curious eyes looked everywhere as I waited for him to move. "You can touch me baby. I'm all yours." The last part came out as a whisper, but he heard it. His eyes lit up and he instantly went back to sucking on my red nipples, eventually rutting his hips against me.

He started groaning and sucking harsher on each nipple. "You gonna cum baby?" He shook his head. "No?" "No," He sat up, his hands on the sides of my ribs. "Can I go inside you?" "I'm all yours baby, remember?" He grasped his weeping cock, lining it up with my entrance.

My hands found purchase on his waist, helping him grind and thrust into me, guiding him back and forth. I worked the sweetest noises out of my little boy as he rode me, head tipped back.

"Look at me Jamie," His eyes met mine again, his face contorted in pleasure. I clenched and fluttered around him, hoping to give him some sweet release. "Ahhh!" He cried as he came inside of me.

"Good boy, such a good boy for me," I petted his hair and stroked his back as he continued to ride out his orgasm, bringing me closer to the edge. "That's it, keep going baby, doing so good for me,"

"Fuck baby," "Gonna cum, you ready?" "I'm ready," He said, thrusting harshly, making the sound of skin slapping skin increase. We were a creamy mess, his cum dripping down to the duvet underneath our bodies.

I cam with a strangled cry, my hands never leaving his hips, "Fuck, rub my clit honey, yeah, just like that!!" I came a second time from the overstimulation. "Oh, gods," I panted, and he came down to rest his cheek on my now sweaty chest. "You okay baby?" I asked, brushing hair out of his eyes. "I'm okay," "Thank you for this honey, did so good, so proud of you,"

His cock hardened again and I felt it poke my leg, his pre cum smearing on my inner thigh. "Need another one, Buck?" He nodded. "Can you use your words for me?" "I want to cum again, y/n." I peppered his face with kisses before gently moving him to roll off me and onto his back.

I traced my long nails down his thighs until they reached the base of his proud cock. "God, y/n...I've been dreaming about this baby," he said, abdomen tensing as I squeezed the base of his cock. "Yeah? Wanted my hands to fuck you dumb baby?" "Yeah, Wanted to watch you play with my cock, hands are so pretty," He admitted.

I started stroking him slowly, squeezing by the base of his head, forcing pre cum out of his swollen red tip with each stroke. "God, feels so good," He moaned.

"Doing so good, baby, needed this...thank you." He praised. "Glad I could help sweetheart," My hand started working faster and I took one of his firm balls into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it and licking between them before giving the other one the same attention.

"Y/n, I-I'm gonna...gonna cum for you, sweetheart, please, please let me cum!!" "Shhh, it's okay baby, I'm gonna let you cum, don't you worry.

Bucky was practically drooling at the way your beautiful hands were coated in his own slick, and how your mouth has spit covering the edges from when you enjoyed his balls. "Ahhh," The view of red manicured nails working over his oh-so-ready length was going to push him over the edge. How could such innocent things be so dirty and good at such an impure task?

"Y/n!!!" "It's okay, honey, let go," He let out a cry of pleasure before cumming all over my already slick hand. "god baby, look so pretty with my cum all over your hands," he said. I released his dick after licking up some of his salty cum.

I kept it in my mouth, crawling up his body from between his legs to kiss him hard, letting him get a taste of himself.

"Mmmm, thank you,"

That night was spent in each other's arms, holding each other's now clean bodies tightly.

a/n thank you for reading part 2!!! this was kind of filth and I got lost in just writing, but I hope you all enjoyed!!!!

[yuri-is-online]

Cute Right ❤? Floyd Leech x Yu

... yeah this is just based off of that audio incorrecttwsted posted. I'm not even bothering to put a gif up for this one it doesn't deserve it. Minors, this one isn't for you.

notes: Yu gets flashed. That's it, that's the show.

You are one unlucky bastard. Cursed even probably. That's the first thought that half paces through your head when you open the door to what you thought was an empty- what Jade told you was an empty room but clearly.

Obviously.

Wasn't. Empty that is, you're pretty sure it's still a room and god if that's where your thought process is going you must be trying really hard not to-

"Hm?" Floyd turns away from his dresser, he's tossed his jacket and vest... somewhere leaving you to see just how little he bothered to button his shirt. Not that it matters to him at all clearly, since you walked in on him fiddling with the zipper to his slacks. Those are also clinging to his body with-

No. They're hanging off of his body. No prayers are involved here, clearly, as his smile eerily grows into a look you have never, EVER seen directed at you but you know isn't remotely holy.

"I was just leaving." Your hand scrambles for the door but your stupid feet refuse to move. Yeah you are definitely cursed; if you weren't afraid he'd somehow sense you thinking of another guy, you'd be tempted to consider your options for getting this bad luck of yours removed.

"A ha no you were nooot~" He practically sings, turning towards you on his heel much too casually for your liking. Floyd's smile widens as you swallow, too afraid to keep eye contact but too wary of wandering to look away. "What's wrong? Something you want to see?" You try to shake your head, you swear you do, but he just giggles. Giggles! As your hand defrosts enough to traitorously fall to your side. "Well," he moves towards you, smooth, almost like he's swimming through the air "let me show you." Your knees nearly buckle under your own weight with how fast he closes the gap, your brain barely registers him tauntingly telling you to look as he tosses the rest of his clothing off and traps you against the door. The tell tale click of the lock finally shocks you into looking downward and-

"Hehe~ Cute, right?"

You can't tell which one of you he's talking about.

[yostresswritinggirl]

𝑊𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑀𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐹𝑜𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒

Even the wisest of men are no strangers to the addicting feeling of love. A feeling no darshan can explain, an emotion that can make even geniuses such as them - crumble into irrationality, moronic actions unexplainable, acting like fools pining for love.

Sumeru Men Story Teasers : Cyno x Reader; Tighnari x Reader; Cyno x Reader x Alhaitham; all gender neutral

(Read: teasers for my WIPs that I'm too slow to work on)

+

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬

He should have been stronger.

Cyno was no stranger to prejudice and judgment, but he had the greatest patience and the iron will to not be moved so easily. It came naturally as a desert dweller among the sea of Akademiya scholars, their side glances and hushed whispers in the dark.

The forest never took kindly to those born over the scorching sands, so when you came up to him with innocent excitement and unadulterated passion, he was unprepared by the strength of your heart.

Against his iron walls, they turned into sand dunes easily swept away. He was no stranger to prejudice and judgment, nor to temptations and vices, so easy to whisk him away in your presence so welcoming of him.

He should have been stronger.

He should have been strong enough to resist your warmth. To refuse you despite you accepting him wholeheartedly.

He should have been strong enough to refuse your reckless offer.

He should have been strong enough to keep you safe.

But Cyno is just as human as any other person in Sumeru, he was no iron wall. There in the depths of the ruins his wails echoed with raw emotion as he gripped your motionless body closer, growing colder against his chest.

He freely cried in desperation knowing there were no audience to his vulnerable state, only the constructs that caused both of you to bleed, and the remnants of a spirit you were deadset on knowing. The main reason the both of you had fallen into this place, and soon, the reason you fall.

"Please, someone," the desperation in his hoarse voice felt foreign even to himself. "Save them, please. Anything... I'll do anything, just save them."

Cyno swore to no religion or deity, but that day even a stranger would have owed his life if they were to save the one he loves. Was it a blessing or a curse for his prayer to be answered?

"Your heart is light, worthy to be a vessel." There is a weight on his shoulder and power behind him, stealing the air from his lungs in waiting tension. "I will give you the strength to save them, human, but from then on your heart will be weighed, judged until you are no longer worthy."

Cyno was a man that can't be moved easily in the face of danger and temptation.

Yet when his hand went to cradle your bloodied cheek, he knew from the very beginning that he would move the stars, the moon and the sun to keep your warmth alight and aflame. He seals his promise with a bloodied kiss.

And with a steeled gaze, he lifts his head with voice filled of pure devotion. "Anything."

You offered an inch, he's willing to sacrifice a mile in return.

+

Komorebi

At one point he thought to ask, since when did he care so much about anything beyond his darshan? When, oh when did anything beyond plants ever intrigue him like this?

"Box wrench, 8 points," your gloved palm reaching out brought him out of his musings, his own hand scrambling to pick up the tool from the table, hoping that was the right one. "Thank you."

Tighnari never imagined that he would find himself here, inside a workshop devoid of the greenery he'd loved, the scent of grease and rust in the air so foreign to him. Cogs and metal scraping grating in his sensitive ears.

Why was he here? Right, to accompany you on your current project.

Inside your room that became your garage of inventions, it smacked Tighnari on the face just how different you two are.

Kshahrewar and Amurta. Metals and plants.

"That should be it," he watched as you removed your googles, planting it atop your head. It gave way to your wide eyes, practically glowing in contentment. That was always the best part of coming here, watching you in your natural environment, in a place you fit in so easily.

Perhaps this was how you see him when he talked about the successful growth of the flowers assigned to him in Pardis Dhyai.

"Thank you for the help as always, Tighnari." While you worked on removing your gloves, you can't seem to peel your eyes away from looking at him. "There's something on your face."

What? "Here?" The ravenette furrowed his brow in confusion, rubbing at the spot you were eyeing with the sleeve of his robe. A dark spot now stained it.

"Here, let me." Tighnari's eyes widened as you licked your thumb without hesitance before rubbing it on the spot where the grease stain dirtied his light skin. "There we go, much better."

The damp touch had his tail, ears, and the hairs at the back of his neck stand straight. Tighnari was never shy, never quiet. Yet he couldn't stop himself from burying his face in his hands, his embarrassment ever more apparent from the warmth he felt from it.

What is he supposed to do? Especially when he's with you?

+

𝐄𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬

Alhaitham wasn't one to dwell on regrets regarding his decisions, especially not one this long.

But he couldn't help but wonder how things would play out in an alternate timeline where he had chosen differently, where he didn't adhere to his principles and instead taken what he was first offered. A guiltless, unrestrained pursuit of knowledge —

Would he be so willing to give that up just for you? Just for you to look at him again?

At the very least, his choices had lead him here, to not be the victim of your cold, indifferent gaze.

Quietly he followed your line of sight to his companion standing next to him, the General Mahamatra. "Former General Mahamatra." Cyno's grip on his staff tightened like his scowl. "Surrender yourselves right here and now."

From the short time that they had been forced together, the Scribe knew that expression were different from the irritation of stalling culprits, nor rage for the Akademiya minions that recklessly used the lives of the Village Keepers. This was not a bitter look shared between enemies, or those one perceived as enemies.

Then and there the lunatic realized that perhaps the both of them had at least one thing in common.

Clearing the pained expression from his face at the sight of your red Akasha and polearm readying to fight, Cyno (with great reluctance) readied himself for a fight next to Alhaitham, the air holding its breathe as the your gaze continued to size them up. In that moment, the two men shared a look -

Before dispersing their weapons away in favor of their fists and raw strength.

Dispose the Akasha terminal in your ear, quick and painless.

"If I ever see one cut on them," Cyno's voice was borderline murderous. "I'll make sure to give you tenfold of their pain."

"We may be temporary allies right now," Alhaitham's voice was taunting and confident, paired with a smirk that contrasts Cyno's scowl. "But that doesn't mean I'm letting you win."

And the long, dreaded fight started the moment your controlled self triggered your Delusion, forcing them to dodge as you made the first strike.

They'll free you from the vile control of the Akademiya, there is no doubt on that.

It's just a matter of who can do it first.

Based on my brainrots here and here. I'm quite the sapiophile - ohhh that's a potential title right there. I've changed Cyno's story title too many times and I'm still not satisfied.

[axelsagewrites]

Rhaenyra Targaryen*Worth It

Pairing: rhaenyra x f!noble!reader

Word count: 678

Kinktober Day nine: edging/orgasm denial with Rhaenyra Targaryen – since you’re used to get everything you want Rhaenyra decides to show you good things come to those who wait

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“Please,” the whimpers fell from your lips as a prayer as your fingers tightened on the arms of the chair.

A lady should not beg especially not someone from such a prestigious, and more importantly rich family however you could not help yourself as the princess buried herself between your thighs.

“You wanna finish?” she asked, pulling away for only a moment to reveal her smirk before her lips returned to your sensitive nub, sucking on the bundle of nerves making you whine and whimper once more.

“Yes,” you moaned, your fingers threatening to break if you gripped the chair any harder, “Please Rhae,” you begged and for a moment as her fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs you wondered if she would finally have mercy.

You felt yourself on the verge of your peak, your stomach already tightening from the burning knot in your gut only for her to pull away as quickly as it had come. “No,” you whined, hips bucking and eyes watering as Rhaenyra pulled herself up from her knees to straddle your lap.

She was still in her court dress, hiking it up so she could settle in your lap. You however had been stripped down to just a shift so as she cupped your breasts you heard yourself whine again, “So impatient,” Rhaenyra chastised, a smirk playing on her lips, “Just think of how good it will feel when it does happen,” she whispered in your ear, placing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“This isn’t fair,” you whined, your hands tugging at her dress which she refused to take off.

“Life isn’t fair,” she said as she removed your hands from her fabrics, moving them down up to rest on her shoulders, “And besides,” she added, placing a soft kiss to your lips, “in these chambers you are not a lady,” she said, kissing your cheek, “you are not rich,” another kiss to your jaw, “you are not in charge,” she said as she kissed your collarbone, “but you are mine and mine alone,”

“Yours,” you confirmed, moaning as her lips began to kiss between your neck, “only yours,”

“Only mine,” she said and when you noticed her sinking back to her knees you whined once more. Her fingers trailed up your abused slit, barely ghosting over your clit but already making you jerk and her smirk return. Her fingers eased into your desperate hole, curling with a precision that made your toes curl.

Her thumb positioned itself over your clit, rubbing slow firm circles into the sensitive nub while she began to leave light hickeys up your thigh. After all she was the only one privy to such sights, a joy she delighted in as she left another mark, soothing the soft skin with her tongue.

You felt your peak already approaching, which was happening quicker and quicker the longer she teased you. after all she’d already brought you to the brink at least four times tonight but with no reward. When her thumb moved you fought back a whine but whimpered loudly when she began sucking harshly on your clit, massaging it with her tongue.

“Thank you,” you gasped, moans filling the room as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, “so good,” you began to mumble, “yes,” you gasped as you felt your body approach its peak.

You expected another sour disappointment when her face pulled away, but it was only for a second this time, “Let go,” Rhaenyra whispered before leaning back in, placing an open mouth kiss to your bundle of nerves making your body twitch.

Curse words fell from your lips as your body finally tumbled over its peak, your orgasm crashing down hard making filthy moans fall from your lips as Rhaenyra’s tongue never stopped. It was only when you slumped back in the chair, your legs still twitching that she pulled away, “So was it worth the wait?” she smirked, manoeuvring to sit on your lap.

You kissed her cheek, a dazed expression on your face, “So fucking worth it,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

[devildomcrybaby]

▸ Obey me! Yandere Lucifer x MC

Minors do not interact includes: overstimulation, mentions of biting and spanking tw: dubcon, blasphemy (well we're talking about demons, aren't we)

In the Devildom you are small. No matter your height, your size, your strenght. You're small and it's a fact. Even lower demons tower over you, bleak suffocating ferment clawing at your throat every time you walk past them.

They don't sleep out of tiredness but out of sloth, they don't eat out of hunger but out of gluttony, they don't crave touch out of love but out of lust. Uncanny corrupt creatures forsaken by an unforgiving God. They're strong and unwavering and you're not, not compared to them, there's no helping it.

And there's no helping the feeling that builds in your core, burning in your stomach yet again, as you hide your face behind your forearm. Racing heart and flushed skin, heavy quick breaths trying to quieten the high-pitched whines unwillingly escaping your lips. The only other noise in the room is the rustling of the black satin sheets under your restless feet.

There you are, small in between Lucifer's legs on his ridiculously large bed. Small is the hand that grabs at his wrist trying to pull his hand away from your abused clit, small are the nails that dig in his thigh. He can hardly feel them, yet you grasp him with everything you have. You call out his name in a sob and he shushes you, his voice soft yet firm, condescending.

He lifts the RAD uniform shirt to your collarbones, his single hand covers your whole chest. He says he likes to feel your heartbeat.

His other hand between your legs makes you sob again at the realization that you could only yield to your fate, any prayer reaching the ears of a deaf God. No, not deaf. Lucifer wants to hear your broken prayers.

Just like the God he loathes, he still demands your devotion as he denies you mercy or grace. Isn't he just like a God in that room, in that very moment? Although not an utterly cruel one. How could he, when he loves his pupil so dearly.

He brushes his nose against your hot cheek, humming to your whimpers as he would to a cursed record.

"Do you want to stop, little one?". He's so gentle, so delicate as he speaks. His fingers move slowly now, your breathing steadying even though you still wince in his arms every time he rubs a particularly sentivive spot. You shake your head no as you chant his name twice, not begging anymore, but longing.

"I want you inside of me".

Lucifer removes his hand, wet fingers now caressing your bare thigh as he draws you closer to him like he yearns a contact that can never satisfy him enough. Your back flush against his chest, he adjusts your gray skirt as he lowers his head to kiss your lips. His deliberately slow movenents do not conceal his dire desire. You put a hand on his cheek, the other one gripping the middle of his shirt pulling him towards to you.

Do you hate me? He longs to ask. Do you dread me? Yet you let him so close to you, you kiss him with the bruised lips he bit and you drag him on top of you as the skin he spanked brushes painfully against the sheets. You don't push him away, no. As your hands scramble to feel his bare skin, you demand more of him instead. Then he knows that the sheer devotion he holds in his heart is not denied. That you'd never deny him. Sharp horns and torn wings, hungry teeth and ruthless nails drawing blood from your tender skin, fingers sinking in the flesh of your hips, words of adoration turning into vicious invective if he catches you turning your eyes to one of his brothers.

The delight and the horror, you crave it all.

I was listening to Requiem in D minor, K. 626 while I wrote this, of course it turned out like this.

[fragilefable]

don't look too far, right where you are, that's where i am.

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader Summary: As you battle a seasonal flu, your partner Joel makes sure that you don't have to lift a finger. Warnings: sick fic, soft/ooc!Joel, cursing, brief mention of loss of appetite due to sickness, in depth descriptions of being sick, suggestive flirting (nothing crazy), probably too much domestic fluff, established relationship, kissing.

Word Count: 1.1K Currently Playing: Mariners Apartment Complex by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: this is completely self indulgent as I am currently writing this on my death bed (i have the flu). so please accept this oneshot while i finish proofreading another (way longer) fic that i've been working on for a long time! also please keep my immune system in your thoughts/prayers :(

As the color of the leaves became warmer, the Wyoming air turned colder. Another autumn in Jackson came and went. With this seasonal shift came great advantages: Infected became slower, as did Raiders and Hunters. It also came with disadvantages–– sickness being one of them. The Cordyceps Infection plagued every inch of the Earth, but this disease was far more unavoidable. 

Your body ached with each minute movement. The sheets were damp with sweat. Your throat dry, as if you were backpacking in the Arizonian heat, your tin canteen bone dry. Pressing the back of your hand to your forehead, you groaned: You definitely had a fever. Removing your clammy hand, you extend an arm in search of a familiar warmth, only to find the left side of the bed empty. 

A raspy cough escapes your lips as you call out for your partner, "Joel?" Your call is met with a heavy silence, daylight filling the empty bedroom. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. A smile threatens your cracked lips when you spot a glass of water and two painkillers on the nightstand beside a note embellished with familiar chicken scratch: "Went to the market, be home soon. Love ya."

You weakly chuckled as you popped the two pills in your mouth, chasing them with the lukewarm water. A shiver ran down your spine as you threw the covers off your body. Groaning softly, you stood up and extended your arms above your head, permitting the sore muscles a moment of reprieve. Padding over to the dresser, you lazily pulled on one of Joel's flannels and a pair of grey sweatpants. You took a moment to inhale through your stuffy nose, basking in the warm, woodsy scent of his shirt.

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to descend the stairs; your tired limbs were heavy like sandbags, effectively weighing you down. Shuffling into the living room, you collapsed on the worn leather couch. You were useless in this state, resolute to hibernate until this illness left your body. Curling into the couch cushions, you allow your eyelids to droop shut as sleep overtakes your body once again. 

A familiar weight sinks beside you on the couch, just barely rousing you from your slumber. The warmth of Joel's hand rested briefly on your forehead and then on your cheek. You hum in response, nestling closer against the callouses of his palm. He chuckles softly, "Hey Darlin'. How ya feelin'?" Your eyes flutter open, taking a mental photograph of his chill-flushed cheeks: "Like shit." 

A sympathetic smile graced his hardened face, causing you to frown. You were tough–– you had to be. There was no room for weakness or fragility in a post-apocalyptic world. But you truly felt like utter, complete garbage. Joel's large hands wander the expanse of your back, gently massaging the strained muscles. As much as you didn't want to burden him, you couldn't deny that his attention was helping to alleviate some of the discomfort: "You don't have to fuss over me, Joel. I'm a grown-up. I can take care of myself." 

Joel hums in acknowledgment, applying more pressure to the tight knot right below your neck where your spine starts: "I know, baby. I want to. Lemme take care of you." You hesitate but eventually nod softly, your body sinking further into the plush leather. Joel's hands knead your back muscles with such care and precision that any tension immediately dissipates. 

Slowly, you push yourself up, clutching your neck in discomfort. "Your throat hurt?" Joel beckons from beside you, one of his arms slung over the back of the couch–– his fingers absentmindedly caressing the exposed skin of your shoulder. You nod weakly, causing him to stand and wander towards the kitchen abruptly, "Went to the market and picked up some of that tea y'like. Got some soup, too." 

You follow his path to find him unpacking the canvas tote, setting each item on the granite counter. "Thank you, baby. 'M not really hungry though," you stand behind him, arms wrapped around his torso. You press a kiss on his clothed back in between his shoulder blades, eliciting a soft groan from Joel: "Why don't you go take a shower, and I'll get you that tea?" 

Your arms tighten around his tall frame, "Are you sayin' I smell, Miller?" Joel laughs gruffly, "No. 'M sayin' you need to relax if you wanna get better." You separate from him, brushing a stray curl from his face: "Mhm. You just wanna get me naked." He smirks, placing a hand on your waist and pulling you flush against him— his gaze darts between your eyes and lips. You place your hands on his chest and softly protest, "Joel... We can't, you'll catch it too."

He scoffs, "Don't care. Your germs are my germs, darlin'." His lips capture yours; the kiss is chaste but affectionate. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip, tongue swiping across the subtle indents he left. He pulls away, his thumb caressing your chin: "Now go before I change my mind." 

Rolling your eyes, you trudge up the stairs to your and Joel's shared bathroom. You turn on the shower, allowing the room to fill with steam. You lather your body with herbal soaps made by one of the older women who work in the greenhouse. It smelled of lavender and thyme–– it smelled of Joel. 

After turning off the faucet, you wrap yourself in a large terrycloth towel. Worn and slightly miscolored, but clean nonetheless. When you descend the staircase, the overwhelming scent of chamomile fills your nostrils, accompanied by the mellow chords of an acoustic guitar. A smile breaks across your face at the sight laid in front of you: Joel perched on the worn fabric of the couch with his guitar idly sat in his lap, his deft fingers plucking the strings. 

Your body collapses next to his, head lolling to the side before it rests against his shoulder. "Did the shower help?" His chest rumbles, fingers continuing to play a song from before the outbreak; the name escapes you. "Yes, it did. But this helps more," you bring your knees close to your chest. You relish in Joel's body heat; that man always was a goddamn furnace. 

Joel set the guitar against the coffee table, repositioning until your body fully leaned against him. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso, "Is there anythin' else I can do f'you darlin'?" You shook your head, "Can we just stay like this for a little while?" A deep chuckle escaped him, "That I can do." As your eyes slipped closed once more, you felt a pair of warm lips press against your hairline and listened as Joel's breathing evened out. The sound soothing you to sleep like your very own lullaby. 

© 2023 fragilefable do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.

divider by @saradika

[yanderes-galore]

Hi just wanna say happy holidays also for request can I request from Pokemon please

ok Hear me hear me out , yandere legend battle between Darkrai vs Arceus hcs where child reader knew them as a child and now reader knows them when she’s/there older 🙏👀

I can try with this, sure. Hope you enjoy it :)

Darling means literal God and Nightmare Incarnate when they were young.

Overprotective! Darkrai vs Arceus Concept

Pairing: Platonic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Rivalry/Jealousy, Pokemon religion, Dubious companionship.

Not sure if you'd be considered lucky or fortunate to meet these two when you were a child.

One of them, Darkrai, is a Pokemon that can cause nightmares.

The other one, Arceus, is literal God.

Maybe you used to have nightmares as a kid, nightmares of a dark shadow-like Pokemon.

These nightmares were a way Darkrai could communicate with you.

The Pokemon may have grown fond of a young child like you and altered your dreams.

However, soon the shadowy Pokemon grows greedy.

The nightmares are longer and soon your parents grow nervous.

After all... soon their child never wakes up.

This leads to your parents praying for you to wake up from this nightmare curse.

Meanwhile in your rest Darkrai is playing with you, no longer trying to scare you.

Arceus notices the prayers of your parents and takes note that Darkrai is essentially holding you hostage.

If you do not wake... you will surely die.

Arceus sends Cresselia to wake you from your sleep, pitying a child such as you.

Cresselia ends up prying you out of Darkrai's grip, much to the Dark-Type's annoyance.

Afterwards Cresselia leaves a feather with you, one that your parents make into a charm to put around your neck.

Fearing Darkrai will come after you again, your parents bless you and tell you to not remove the feather.

Due to your blessing, Arceus keeps an eye on you.

Arceus can tell Darkrai is lurking around you, the Dark-Type unable to let you go.

However this time the Pokemon can not put you into eternal slumber.

Essentially you meet these two Pokemon due to a traumatic event in your childhood.

Ever since both Pokemon have had their eye on you.

Darkrai wants to keep you to itself, meanwhile Arceus is following your parents blessing to protect you.

Now you're an adult, still under careful watch by these two deity-like beings.

Most of their "rivalry" is out of your sight.

While you still have that feather and blessing, Darkrai can't touch you.

Darkrai is usually a very misunderstood Pokemon, it didn't mean to hurt you.

The Pokemon wanted a friend... getting said friend nearly got you killed.

Arceus pities both of you, but the god has a feeling the Dark-Type may go overboard again.

I imagine things would heat up if your blessed feather was destroyed somehow.

This makes you vulnerable to Darkrai once again.

The Pokemon gets so excited, he can finally see his friend again!

As you fall into your nightmarish sickness again, you see Darkrai.

It's friendly towards you, almost treating you like a kid again.

Meanwhile I imagine Arceus does its best to interfere.

Maybe even to the point of entering your dreams too to try and chase Darkrai off.

That's how a rivalry between them would go.

Now the question is... what happens next?

If Arceus wins you will once again be protected, perhaps even blessed by Arceus and Cresselia again like long ago

If Darkrai wins, then you may die in the Pokemon's embrace.

Your fate isn't for you to decide...

Since maybe even birth, your fate has fallen to these two Pokemon... you are at their mercy.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

40 Years Super Hot Body Ready for Party • Aries Taurus Gemini Cancer Leo Virgo Libra and Scorpio Sagittarius Capricorn Aquarius Pisces Fart Song • Butterflies Scared My Cat When I Was Burping in Your Face on Wednesday Morning • Drunk Log out with Spooky Music Settings on My Firm Tits Pictures • Grandpa Says Fuck While Grandma Screams What Repeated Several Times • Grumpy Trumpy Python Toddler Taxi with False News and Emotions • Hugging Blood Thirsty Vampires with a Transylvanian Accent and Slapped Butts • I Farted as an Official Statement Against Global Warming, Expressing My Worries! • I’m Handsome When Wearing a Bag on My Head, Said the Horny Motherfuckers Politely • Is That Cellulite or Just Your Ugly Face? • Kindergarten Farting Fanfare Discussed with Disgusting Asian Clay Warriors Terracotta Song • Leaking Ladies Xylophone Solo Learning with Lusty Lashes Song • Lisping on Penis Peyote Creaking Mirth Radio, Let’s Lisp! Song • Lowering My Filthy Boobs to the Height of Your Curly Chest Hair with Freckles • Mom’s Cleaning Closet Looks Like a Women’s Porn Stash • My Gay Expense Combination Password Gore Seeking Battle Was Sinning • My Hangover Got Hung over by a Hung Guy from Hungary • My Horoscope Sign Is Poop and Yours Is Farts • Nearly Touching Myself with Your Girlfriend’s Hands While Doing the Dishes • Peeing a Farting Swearing Shouting and Pooping in Different Languages Made Me Famous Song • Petite Girls Liked My Fat Farts in Skinny Jeans with Justice • Pooping a Masterpiece in the Little Boys Room on National TV Broadcast • Puerto Del Penis Summer Holiday with Topless Sun Bathing and Surfing Fun • Puking Girls Are Holding Each Others Hair While Selling Butter to Pregnant Vomiting Men • Real Sharks Was a Great Accessory for My Swimming Pool Party Massacre • Relaxing Music for Penis Boys and Vagina Girls, I Have Money Cash, Yes! • Rescuing My Penis from Your Vagina at the Last Minute, Whoah! • Scary Music and Naked Ladies Cemetery Collection Flickering Through Growth • Shaking Sausages in the Men’s Room and Dangling Coconuts • Short Temper Anus Removal with Lipstick on the Collar • Shouting Poopers to Girls While a Crying Man Is Pooping Poop, How Adorable Screaming Babies Are! • Silly Talking Childish Macho Man Thanking Prayers for God’s Food Yes Hello! • Skinny Bitch, Fat Bitch, Rich Bitch, Poor Bitch, All Bitches Poop! • Smelling That Pussy in the Air at the Private Night Club Farting Room • Smudging Chocolate over the Toilet, So Everyone Would Think I Pooped • Sneaking Beans into Your Butthole While U Talk to a Handsome Stranger • Snuggling in Satan’s Satin Sheets with Shattered Dreams and No Boner Song • Solitary Fighting My Big Toe with the Desolate Strangler • Spoiling Desert by Pulling Your Finger Thirteen Times in a Row • Strolling with Morning Wood in the Woods While Mourning to This Song • Stutter and Chinese Food Destroyed My Artwork in the Toilet Bowl Coffee Shop • Sunny Morning Boner at the Beach Gym Towel Rental Song • Surprisingly Soft Boobs on the Milf Statue in the Garden of Jugs, Oh It Was Your Mom Sorry! •

Taming My Daughter’s Boyfriend with Booze and Fists of Agony • Teleporting My Cock to the Urinals Hurts When Peeing Penis Action • That Penis Is Not Mine, Stop Accusing Me of Curing Your Cancer! What • The Brothel Cup Cake Dispenser Had a Variety of Chocolate Brownies Too • The Giggling Killer Was Invited for Tea and Mustard with a Former Laughing Idiot • The Headache Fuckers with Migraine Were Chopping Fucking Painkillers • The Itchy Vampire Vagina Was a Gothic Curse from Medieval Times Song • The Lying Bitch Hermit Ducking Group Was Insisting on Bitch Slaps • The Penis Teens Shouting Squad Declared War on the Vagina Milfs Departure • The Pussy Cock Was Meowing and Cock-a-Doodle-Dooing with Glance • The Singing Orgy Group Remembered My Fancy Birthday Party, Super! • The Sock on My Penis Shook the Genuine Spokesman While Crying Song • The Syphilis Motown Singers Were Blowing Deranged Adultery at Me Song • The Toy Collector’s Mature Attitude Otter Raised Homeland Security Breach • The Triangle of Pussy and Clipping Smoothies Burping Smootch • Typical Asian Food Poured into the Purse of an European Hooker Prostitute Igloo • Under Water Farting Wiz Nick Y Minaj Naked Twerking Shower Saloon Barf Thong • Updating My Profile Picture While Pooping Macaroni with Japanese Subtitles • Using Mother´s Panther Underwear Because of Broken Shopping Bag to the Store • Washing Hamburgers with Dirty Sauce in Leather Pants While Howling • What Ugly Shit on Your Finger! Oh, It’s Your Wedding Ring? It’s Very Nice! • Whistling and Farting a Heavenly Polyphonic Song for Dying Virgins • Violin Licking Sounds by a Hard Baritone Dick Song Licker • Young Girls Selling Old Men´s Boxers in Thongs with Soulful Tutti-Frutti • Your Butthole Swallowed My Telephone, Will It Come out from the Mouth Then? • Your Mom´s Butt Massage Seems Innocent at First, Before Handing out Religious Leaflets

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