#it's just two tiny branches that go on the other side

[headspace-hotel]

Nature is healing.

I burned the Meadow a couple weeks ago. At first it looked like nothing but charred ashes and dirt, with a few scorched green patches, and I was afraid I'd done something terrible. But then the sprouts emerged. Tender new leaves swarming the soil.

My brother and I were outside after dark the other day, to see if any lightning bugs would emerge yet. We had been working on digging the pond. That old soggy spot in the middle of the yard that we called "poor drainage," that always splattered mud over our legs when we ran across it as children—it isn't a failed lawn, and it never was.

Oh, we tried to fill in the mud puddles, even rented heavy machinery and graded the whole thing out, but the little wetland still remembered. God bless those indomitable puddles and wetlands and weeds, that in spite of our efforts to flatten out the differences that make each square meter of land unique from another, still declare themselves over and over to be what they are.

So we've been digging a hole. A wide, shallow hole, with an island in the middle.

And steadily, I've been transplanting in vegetation. At school there is a soggy field that sadly is mowed like any old field. The only pools where a frog could lay eggs are tire ruts. From this field I dig up big clumps of rushes and sedges, and nobody pays me any mind when I smuggle them home.

I pulled a little stick of shrubby willow from some cracked pavement near a creek, and planted it nearby. From a ditch on the side of the road beside a corn field, I dug up cattail rhizomes. Everywhere, tiny bits of wilderness, holding on.

I gathered up rotting logs small enough to carry and made a log pile beside the pond. At another corner is a rock pile. I planted some old branches upright in the ground to make a good place for birds and dragonflies to perch.

And there are so many birds! Mourning doves, robins, cardinals and grackles come here in much bigger numbers, and many, many finches and sparrows. I always hear woodpeckers, even a Pileated Woodpecker here and there. A pair of bluebirds lives here. There are three tree swallows, a barn swallow also, tons of chickadees, and there's always six or seven blue jays screaming and making a commotion. And the goldfinches! Yesterday I watched three brilliant yellow males frolic among the tall dandelions. They would hover above the grass and then drop down. One landed on a dandelion stem and it flopped over. There are several bright orange birds too. I think a couple of them are orioles, but there's definitely also a Summer Tanager. There's a pair of Canada Geese that always fly by overhead around the same time in the evening. It's like their daily commute.

The other day, as I watched, I saw a Cooper's Hawk swoop down and carry off a robin. This was horrifying news for the robin individually, but great news for the ecosystem. The food chain can support more links now.

There are two garter snakes instead of one, both of them fat from being good at snaking. I wonder if there will be babies?

But the biggest change this year is the bugs. It's too early for the lightning bugs, but all the same the yard is full of life.

It's like remembering something I didn't know I forgot. Oh. This is how it's supposed to be. I can't glance in any direction without seeing the movement of bugs. Fat crickets and earwigs scuttle underneath my rock piles, wasps flit about and visit the pond's shore, an unbelievable variety of flies and bees visit the flowers, millipedes and centipedes hide under the logs. Butterflies, moths, and beetles big and small are everywhere.

I can't even describe it in terms of individual encounters; they're just everywhere, hopping and fluttering away with every step. There are so many kinds of ants. I sometimes stare really closely at the ground to watch the activities of the ants. Sometimes they are in long lines, with two lanes of ants going back and forth, touching antennae whenever two ants traveling in opposite directions meet. Sometimes I see ants fighting each other, as though ant war is happening. Sometimes the ants are carrying the curled-up bodies of dead ants—their fallen comrades?

My neighbor gave me all of their fallen leaves (twelve bags!) and it turns out that piling leaves on top of a rock and log pile in a wet area summons an unbelievable amount of snails.

I always heard of snails as pests, but I have learned better. Snails move calcium through the food chain. Birds eat snails and use the calcium in their shells to make egg shells. In this way, snails lead to baby birds. I never would have known this if I hadn't set out to learn about snails.

In the golden hour of evening, bugs drift across the sky like golden motes of dust, whirling and dancing together in the grand dramas of their tiny lives. I think about how complicated their worlds are. After interacting with bees and wasps so much for so long, I'm amazed by how intelligent and polite they are. Bumble bees will hover in front of me, swaying side to side, or circle slowly around me several times, clearly perceiving some kind of information...but what? It seems like bees and wasps can figure out if you are a threat, or if you are peaceful, and act accordingly.

I came to a realization about wasps: when they dart at your head so you hear them buzzing close by your ears, they're announcing their presence. The proper response is to freeze and duck down a bit. It seems like wasps can recognize if you're being polite; for what it's worth, I've never been stung by a wasp.

As night falls, bats emerge and start looping and darting around in the sky above. If the yard seems full of bugs in the day, it is nothing compared to the night.

I'm aware that what I'm about to describe, to an entomophobe, sounds like a horror movie: when i walk to the back yard, the trees are audibly crackling and whirring with the activity of insects. Beetles hover among the branches of the trees. When we look up at the sky, moths of all sizes are flying hither and thither across it. A large, very striking white moth flies past low to the ground.

Last year, seeing a moth against the darkening sky was only occasional. Now there's so many of them.

I consider it in my mind:

When roads and houses are built and land is turned over to various human uses, potentially hundreds of native plant species are extirpated from that small area. But all of the Eastern USA has been heavily altered and destroyed.

Some plants come back easily, like wild blackberry, daisy fleabane, and common violets. But many of them do not. Some plants need fire to sprout, some need Bison or large birds to spread them, some need humans to harvest and care for them, some live in habitats that are frequently treated with contempt, some cannot bear to be grazed by cattle, some are suffocated beneath invasive Tall Fescue, Kentucky bluegrass, honeysuckle or Bradford pears, and some don't like being mowed or bushhogged.

Look at the landscape...hundreds and hundreds of acres of suburbs, pastures, corn fields, pavement, mowed verges and edges of roads.

Yes, you see milkweed now and then, a few plants on the edge of the road, but when you consider the total area of space covered by milkweed, it is so little it is nearly negligible. Imagine how many milkweed plants could grow in a single acre that was caretaken for their prosperity—enough to equal fifty roadsides put together!

Then I consider how many bugs are specialists, that can only feed upon a particular plant. Every kind of plant has its own bugs. When plant diversity is replaced by Plant Sameness, the bug population decreases dramatically.

Plant sameness has taken over the world, and the insect apocalypse is a result.

But in this one small spot, nature is healing...

[pedrospatch]

not a thing

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part ii

summary: You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. implied smut, but no actual smut. grumpy Joel, Ellie is a little shit.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: nervous to write for TLOU but still giving it a shot! poor Ellie for being subjected to what i am about to subject her to lol. Edit: holy shit, i did not expect this to get much attention. thank you all sm for reading, liking and reblogging!

It had been an incredibly stupid thing to do.

So, so, so fucking stupid.

You knew that.

And Joel knew that.

You two were supposed to have been standing watch.

Not to mention, there had been a teenaged girl sleeping close by, just mere fucking yards away from the two of you had been—

Jesus Christ.

Dammit, you and Joel fucking knew better than to be this goddamn stupid.

Careless.

But neither of you could help yourselves.

It had been several weeks—actually, it had been several months since you two had been able to steal a private moment for yourselves. That moment would have been missed had you not somehow woken up in the middle of the night, only to find Joel wide awake, his rifle in hand as he stood watch while you and Ellie had slept. You’d offered to take his place for a few hours so he could get some rest too, but instead, a few minutes and many, many desperate, feverish kisses later, the two of you found yourselves on the other side of Bill’s old white and blue Chevrolet pickup truck, Joel’s jeans unzipped and your own jeans pulled down around your knees along with your underwear. He’d had you bent over, but still standing at a point where you could peek over the bed of the truck so that you could somehow keep a watchful eye out in between the moments of mind-numbing pleasure—both for any signs of potential danger and also for Ellie, who was passed out, curled up into a little ball in her sleeping bag and completely unaware of what her two reluctant protectors were doing behind the vehicle right next to her.

Your bottom lip was busted, bruised from biting down on it so hard.

The deal had been no noise, not even a single whimper, although you couldn’t remember how well either of you had stuck to that rule in the heat of the moment. It had been a quick fuck, just enough to give you and Joel some much needed relief from all of those pent up stresses and frustrations you two were carrying on your shoulders since Ellie had entered your lives just the week before. And just like back in the Boston QZ, Joel said nothing to you once it was over and done with.

It never hurt your feelings. It was just how things were.

It was some sort of twisted, fucked up unspoken pact the two of you had. 

Joel Miller fucked you, and then he just pretended like nothing ever happened, not until the next time he found himself buried inside of you.

It’s not like you expected Joel to return your feelings.

Hell, you weren’t even sure the man knew how to feel anything but anger, bitterness, and violence. 

Afterwards, Joel took you up on your offer to keep watch and slept for a couple of hours until sunrise came and had you both moving, packing up the truck and getting ready to continue the long drive ahead to Wyoming.

“She’s been oddly quiet,” Joel mumbled to you as he packed up the remnants of the small campsite into the bed of the pickup truck. “Go check on her.”

Obediently, you nodded and dropped the sleeping bag in your hands before turning away and walking over to where Ellie was sitting cross legged on the ground, her fingers mindlessly fiddling with a small, broken tree branch on the ground. “Hey,” you offered her a small smile. “It’s almost time to get going. You doing alright over here?”

She looked up at you and gave you a small nod. “Yeah. Just cold as fuck since we can’t have a fucking fire going,” she said, tossing a tiny glare over in Joel’s direction. “But other than that? I’m just fucking peachy.”

You chuckled and shrugged out of your worn out, brown windbreaker jacket. You draped it over Ellie’s shoulders before taking a seat beside her on the ground. She may have been a thorn in Joel’s side—then again, who wasn’t a thorn in Joel Miller’s side—but you’d warmed up to her fairly quickly. A lot quicker than your partner, anyway. He was still a work in progress.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Ellie nodded, clutching your jacket close. “Kinda,” she shrugged her small shoulders. “The ground was really hard and uncomfortable. I woke up a couple of times throughout the night and had trouble falling back asleep.”

Your smile faded ever so slightly. “Oh? You did?”

Noticing the sudden change in your demeanor, a small smirk crossed the girl’s face. “I knew you and McGrumps over there were a thing.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva as you nervously sputtered out, “W-What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow at you, shooting you a knowing look as her smirk widened.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Ellie had caught you and Joel while you two were—fucking?

Mortified did not even come close to cutting it.

“Oh god,” You muttered, your face on fire. 

“I really hope you two are being smart and using protection,” she added teasingly. “What’s that saying? Wrap it before you tap it?”

“Ellie!” You hissed, glancing over your shoulder. Joel went about his business and it was times like these where you were actually thankful that his hearing wasn’t what it used to be. You turned back to her and quickly started trying to explain yourself. “Ellie, I don’t know what you think you saw but—”

“Oh, it was too dark to see anything. I heard you guys.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Back behind the truck.” She paused, thoroughly enjoying every single moment of complete and utter discomfort she was causing you. “You know, if that’s gonna keep happening, I’m really gonna need you guys to find me a Walkman with some headphones. Noise cancelling headphones, please and thank you.”

You dropped your head into your hands and anxiously rubbed your face with your palms. “Fuck. I’m really sorry, Ellie,” Was all that you could say.

What else could you say?

Sorry you had to hear me getting fucked by my partner while you were laying just feet away in your sleeping bag?

“Sorry for what? For not being able to keep it in your pants?” Ellie giggled, slapping your knee with her hand in an attempt to get you to lighten up. “I get it. Nature. Hormones. Biology and shit.”

You lifted your face from your hands. “Joel can’t know,” You warned her. “Or he won’t be able to look you or me in the eye ever again.”

Ellie groaned in exaggeration, throwing her head back. “Aw, come on! I really wanted to see him squirm.”

“Me squirming should be fucking enough you little shit,” You laughed, shoving her playfully with your elbow. Once both of your giggles had subsided, in a more serious tone, you told her, “And for the record, we are not a thing.”

Ellie stared at you in disbelief. “Get out of here, you lying sack of shit! You totally are!”

“I know it’s hard to understand. But just because two people—” You trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. It was more often than not that you had to remind yourself that despite what Ellie had been through and all she had seen, she was still fourteen. A fucking child.

“Bump uglies?” she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

You sighed. “Jesus Christ, please don’t ever fucking say that out loud again.” You paused briefly, running a hand through your hair. “But yes. Just because two people do what he and I were doing, that doesn’t mean anything. For a lot of people, it can be quite meaningless actually. It does not mean they are a thing. Me and Joel? Not a thing. Understood?”

Ellie blinked. “That’s probably the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Even before last night, I knew you two were a thing. Whether either of you admit it or not. I can tell.”

You knew better than to play into what she was saying, but the sheer curiosity got the better of you.

What had Ellie noticed about you and Joel?

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I dunno. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you. He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you. Even if he might have a shitty ass way of showing it.”

You glanced back over at Joel and then back at Ellie, confused.

“And you can deny it all you want. But if there’s one thing that stone cold asshole cares about, it’s definitely you,” Ellie stated firmly.

Your mouth fell open slightly, unsure what to say to her.

“What the hell are you two yappin’ about over there?” Joel called, looking over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” Ellie practically sang, causing him to roll his eyes and turn his attention back to his task.

“Well then, get off your asses and let’s get a fuckin’ move on. Ain’t got time to waste.”

[libraryofgage]

Decided to combine 4 and 12 of the prompt list! Something about these two prompts was giving me major Addams Family vibes, so I rolled with it lol

If there are any other prompts you want to see written, lemme know!

4. “You know I’d do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.”  

12. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

Wherein the Munsons are branches on the Addams Family tree, and Steve finds himself the object of Eddie Munson's flirtations and devotion.

---

When the Munsons move in next door, Steve sits his brother down in the living room and says, "Don't bother them, Dustin. Wait, like, three days before asking for their life stories."

Dustin looks offended, to say the least. "I wasn't gonna ask for their life stories, Steve. I was gonna ask where they got all the bats and birds that hang out on their roof."

Honestly, Steve would love the answer to that, too, but that seems to be encroaching on the "life story" territory, considering the sheer number of flying creatures the Munsons brought with them. He'd been outside getting the mail when the Munson kids, a boy his own age and a girl Dustin's age, had opened a tiny cat carrier, and a veritable storm of black wings and feathers and screeching had somehow come streaming out of it.

The girl was watching them with a smile, and the boy turned around like he'd felt Steve staring. Their gazes met, and Steve's awkward wave was returned with the boy's eyes raking over him before winking with a grin.

"Look, ju-"

Steve's words are cut off by a banging on the door, the person knocking out a beat that he can't follow. He shoots Dustin a look to stay put before he opens the door to find the Munson boy on the other side. He's got that same playful grin and a plate of pitch-black...something in his hands.

"Uh, hi?"

Somehow, the boy's grin gets wider, and he shoves the plate into Steve's hands. "Heeeellooo, big boy," he says, his voice almost lowering into a purr that makes heat flood Steve's cheeks. "Wayne wanted me to drop off some of his famous arsenic and chocolate chip cookies. You know, since we're neighbors and all."

"Wayne? Arsenic?" Steve mumbles, looking down at the cookies warily.

"Our uncle," the boy says, leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms as he looks Steve up and down again. "Don't worry, it won't kill you. Yet. That's a friend of the family privilege, at least, and you just ain't there yet."

It must be a joke, and Steve lets out a strained laugh. He balances the plate in one hand and holds his other one out. "Right, well, uh, nice to meet you. I'm Steve. You'll probably meet my brother, Dustin, later."

The boy takes his hand, but instead of shaking it, he brings it up to his lips. Then he turns Steve's hand over, brushing his lips across the meat of his palm before nipping. Steve jerks, yanking his hand back and holding it close to his chest, his heart beating erratically as the boy says, "I'm Eddie, my sister's name is El, and I'm going to have so much fun with you, Stevie."

And with that, Eddie turns on his heel and saunters back to the Munson home, which had been painted pitch-black (just like the cookies) at some point. Steve doesn't move from the open door, feeling a faint tingling in his palm, until he hears Dustin shout that he's going to let all the cold air out.

The arsenic and chocolate chip cookies had not, in fact, killed either of them. And, despite their burnt-to-coal appearance, they were soft and chewy. It had immediately put the Munsons in Dustin's good graces, which he happily proclaimed while Steve's head and heart were still reeling from Eddie's introduction.

In the following weeks, Eddie kept popping up whenever Steve left the house. He never overstepped, though. He'd appear at a distance, wait for Steve to wave or say hi, and then approach with that big grin with canine teeth that looked a little sharper than they should. Sometimes he'd offer more baked goods from Wayne (always with some schtick to them: eye of newt brownies, hag's breath toffee, cyanide and cherry pie). On one notable occasion, he'd offered a baseball bat with nails stuck through the end.

"El let out a demodog the other day, so you probably ought to be careful. I'd hate for you to get hurt by something that wasn't me," Eddie had said as Steve confusedly took the bat.

He blinked when he had processed the words and looked up. "You would hurt me?" Steve asked.

Eddie had leaned close, his ringed fingers ghosting over Steve's side and inching closer to his waist, and whispered, "It wouldn't just hurt, Stevie." His words had sent a shiver down Steve's spine, his mouth suddenly dry as Eddie pulled away.

And their interactions had escalated from there. With every meeting, Eddie strayed closer, lingered longer, spoke softer, and Steve couldn't escape the growing devotion and fascination in his eyes. At some point, Steve knew, things were bound to boil over.

So, he definitely wasn't surprised when they did at the neighborhood's annual Fourth of July cookout. Eddie had waited until El and Dustin were distracted by their other friends, checked to make sure Wayne was sufficiently busy with helping at the grill, and then kidnapped Steve to a hidden corner of the Byers's yard.

Which brings Steve to the present, the Byers's house casting a long shadow over him and Eddie so nobody notices them. The sound of other kids screeching with delight and parents discussing summer camps fades when Eddie leans in closer.

"You know I'd do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything?" Eddie asks, tilting Steve's chin up as he crowds him against the wall.

Steve presses back against the cool brick, silently holding Eddie's gaze. There's a stark seriousness to his words, and Steve can't help his curiosity about just what anything encompasses. "Would you kill for me?" he asks, his voice soft.

Eddie practically lights up, a feral grin pulling at his lips. "Gladly, sweetheart," he purrs.

"Would you die for me?"

"I'd tear out my heart and present it on a fucking silver platter for you. In fact, I can do it right now, if you'd like." A knife appears in his hand from seemingly nowhere, and Eddie brings it to his own chest only for Steve to stop him by grabbing his wrist.

"Then, what about living for me?" Steve asks, carefully taking the knife from Eddie and smoothly returning it to the holder tucked into his jeans.

Eddie leans in until their noses brush, his hand cupping Steve's jaw. "I wouldn't even dream of dying without your permission, Stevie," he whispers.

And Steve would fucking love to meet the person who could withstand Eddie Munson's attention and flirting and gifts and care and sheer devotion without falling head-over-heels for him. Steve would want to put that person in a jar, study them, see if their indifference is something he could mass produce. He's sure Eddie would be thrilled to help him do it, too.

"I have one request," Steve whispers back, reaching up and pushing his hand into Eddie's hair, warmth rushing through him when Eddie leans into the touch.

"Anything. Say the word, and I wouldn't hesitate to crawl through hot coals and broken glass." Steve has zero doubts Eddie would; in fact, he knows Eddie would be ecstatic to do it, if only for the chance to make Steve smile.

"I want one of the bats. And Dustin wants a demodog, but you better make sure it doesn't hurt him, or I'll make you listen to bubblegum pop and watch a Disney marathon."

Steve can feel the shudder that goes through Eddie, his eyes revealing a mix of horror, pride, and love at Steve's words. "You, Stevie, have perfected the art of making threats. Consider your two requests granted and me sufficiently...threatened," Eddie breathes, somehow managing to press even closer.

And Steve can't make either of them wait a second longer. With a grin that can easily rival Eddie's, Steve kisses him and begins to think of names for his bat.

[cannellee]

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE (mythological au! #2) ☆

୨୧ medusa! alpha! tokyo rev x blind! omega! reader (pairing : chifuyu, mikey, mitsuya, baji, izana)

— you meet medusa, whose stare can turn people into statues of rock. but you're actually blind so it doesn't affect you! what are their reactions?

cw : yandere!izana, baji is sweet++ and probably not representative, SA (mitsuya's one, it's not him though), deaths

(they don't have snakes hair, just the curse) + (it's sooo badly written pls don't mind the quality) + (baji's one is criminally short even though it has sm potential sorryy)

my masterlist : ☆

ALPHA! CHIFUYU (love at first sight)

you really simply wanted to pick berries for the pie you planned to cook this afternoon. you would call for your friend to come with you as it's so much more amusing when you're not on your own, but she couldn't today.

still, you went to your usual spot, experienced feet strolling along the path you grew to recognise by heart. you bent down, gathered a few fruits and other sweet things while searching deeper into the forest until you heard the soft sound of water dripping down.

you walked closer, senses alert and nose breathing in the fresh air around you. once the lapping of the gentle waves hugged your ankles, you put away your basket and sat down on a rock you found while navigating through your surroundings.

you let the sun hit your skin and sooth your worries away, calmly closing your eyes.

when chifuyu was alerted that someone had crossed his territory thanks to the mouths of the tiny magical beings he took under his protection, he promptly made his way to you.

chifuyu valued his space, but most and foremost, he hated humans. he hated the way they would cower under his gaze, how they pleaded for their lives and tried to harm him any chance they had.

if his life was to be painful and lonely, he at least wanted some peace. foolish people who wandered into his forest didn't know their fate, or at least took it too lightly.

he first heard soft hums, and the unnatural splash of water you made with your feet immersed in the lake.

chifuyu was prepared to scare you into running away, to growl and yell at how impudent you had been for trespassing.

but upon witnessing your small frame and catching a taste of your sweet scent, chifuyu wasn't so sure anymore of what he had to do. although he was a huge hater of humans, hurting another soul bothered him. you looked harmless and defenceless, definitely not a threat.

you most likely lost your way, chifuyu thought. he expected a hunter or something among the lines, some gross alpha who came here to bring harm to the sacred place that was the forest.

but a peaceful omega like you surely would just go back to were she came from without any trouble. he sighed and turned around, already ready to leave. that was until his foot walked on a branche, making a loud "crack" sound for the both of you to hear.

"who's there ?", chifuyu hurriedly turned his head the other way, suddenly conscious about his eyes and what they could bring to you.

"you're alone and lost. you shouldn't be there", you laugh a bit at the man's answer, not feeling threatened one bit.

"how would you know whether I'm lost or not ?", he frowned when you kept your eyes shut, never sparing him a glance. when he didn't answer, you invited him to join your side.

"I can safely say you wouldn't want me to sit next to you if you knew who I am"

"you would've already hurt me if that was your intention. as you said, I'm alone", chifuyu eyed you up carefully before taking up on your offer, smelling the fresh berries you tempted him with.

"are you always this reckless that you would invite an alpha you don't even know to chat with you ?", he quickly took his place beside you, eyes locked on the floor and hands already digging inside the basket you put between the two of you.

you simply shrug, finally opening your eyes and turning your head his way before he could even react.

"I'm y/n", he looked in your eyes before realising and felt his heart drop upon doing so, fearing you would change into a statue in front of him.

but you didn't. your delicate scent he tried to ignore kept making him light-headed and feeling calm, your smile didn't freeze and only grew wider in a sweet way he found particularly cute.

he took his time scanning your features. a real flesh and blood person's face was looking at him. well not exactly, chifuyu now understood why you had seem so fearless despite aventuring yourself in a forest known for inhabiting a dangerous monster.

he couldn't recall the last time he looked at someone so intimately, without the disgusting feeling he had the first times he realised he no longer belonged with other humans. he didn't remember when he had the opportunity to admire such a pretty face like yours, without immediately changing them into marble.

chifuyu was deeply looking into your eyes and no parts of your body turned hard and grey.

he felt normal again as he introduced himself as well, his eyes never leaving your face, paying attention to the smallest details of your expressions, the way your eyes looked around and reacted to the sound of his voice.

you didn't fear him, you didn't beg him to spare your life and never once did you turn your head away from him, refusing to look at him as if he was the most horrendous thing in the world.

chifuyu didn't want to tear his gaze away from you, not even for a second. for the first time in years, he had someone he genuinely enjoyed being with, with no other emotions inhabiting hin than calmness, anticipation and a merry scent circling around the both of you.

he didn't believe someone he met a few minutes prior could make him have so much hope for the future, and such a growing urge to stay near you, the only one who would never ostracise him.

                                     · · ୨୧ · ·

ALPHA! MIKEY (a sacrifice for the prophecy)

you were beyond scared shitless, tears running down your trembling jaw. you clutched your white gown in the biting cold, slowly walking up the hill with dreadful steps.

you relied on the men escorting you for guidance, eyes covered with a silky material which would have prevented you from seeing anything if it wasn't for your blind eyes.

they told you you were doing this for the greater good, to save another innocent and indefective soul from perishing to the hands of the beast who pressured your tiny village to send him a person each year. what their fate turned out to be was a mystery, but it was evident that it wasn't anything good as none of them ever returned.

the tradition was old from centuries ago, your ancestors carefully choosing a bride to send up the hill you were currently on. they never missed a year, scared of the wrath of the monster.

they did try rebelling some hundred years ago, refusing to send another one of their comrade to their fateful death. after this day, they never once disrespected the wish of the beast as they coldly remembered the terrified looks of the thousands of teenagers who were turned to stone in a single night. frozen by the gaze of the man they now obeyed without a fault.

after this came a prophecy ; upon hearing the sad news, an oracle visited them to deliver the truth from the gods above. they listened attentively as the woman spoke, affirming that they were to perpetrate the ritual if they wanted to keep their people alive, until someone with a similar curse came into this world. only then, will the circle of atrocities come to an end.

today was your turn, no reasons were given to you as you marched, the lack of familiar surroundings was enough to put you into such a distress state you didn't know what to do with yourself.

"we'll leave you here. enter the cave, you'll find your way if you follow the walls." they pushed you forward, promptly leaving you here after threatening you to keep going. you had no choice but to do so, unable to decipher where you even came from, the walk was long and tiring, you knew you wouldn't make it back.

so you followed the path, fingers running on the wet and rocky walls, silence engulfing you totally with only the soft sound of your footsteps around. the floor was soft though, almost inviting and comfortable and you soon understood you arrived to your destination.

your heartbeats accelerated, scared and disoriented when a new scent hit your nose, yours emitting a stressed one.

"an omega ? they usually keep them to themselves" you jumped at the foreign mumbling voice, deep and low. you said nothing and kept your right hand on the wall, for a semblance of control of your surroundings.

"it's not like I care anyways. you can keep the blindfold, I'll guide you to the garden" and with that, a cold hand grasped your shoulder, forcing you away from the wall which kept you steady.

you whimpered at the sudden touch, musky scent invading your privacy. he dragged you gently to an open area, you could tell it was with the way the wind caressed your skin and the shivers it sent you.

"stay here. you'll look perfect with the others. I never had such a pretty one being sent my way", his breathe fanned over your ear, you felt his face dangerously close to yours and you kept wondering how the beast could actually be an alpha and not some faceless furry thing, instead he smelled and seemed just like any villagers you met.

you were scared. you felt small and defenceless. but you remained there, unmoving and ready to undergo any treatment. what would a blind omega like you could even do against the terrible beast you've heard countless of atrocious stories about ?

"it'll be over quickly. just don't move", and with that, you felt his big hands leave your arms and instead reaching behind your head for the neat knot the other betas women of the village had done while preparing you.

your nails dug into your flesh and left red marks, you hoped nothing of it hurt. you knew you would be changed into a statue and you hoped it was as painless as he told you. you trusted his words, despite him being the one inflicting such a deplorable fate.

the blindfold fell off your face and you opened your eyes in a blink, looking up despite not seeing anything.

and he looked at you, right into your eyes, shocked and confused. "you're blind ?", he asked you with a voice void of any confidence he had earlier, it came in a whisper, almost as a vulnerable affirmation more than a true question.

you nodded, unsure of what was happening. "my curse only works if you can look at me in the eyes. but you're blind.", he repeated, as if trying to convince himself it was real, that you were real.

the man drops the blindfold to his feet, looking at your face, your eyes, impressed by how much cuter you looked when he could see your whole face.

"you're... I can't turn you into a statue then"

"what will you do then ? if the ritual doesn't work they'll have to send someone else ? are you going to hurt my people ?", your stressed out scent hit him in the gut ; he didn't want to make you feel distressed.

"don't worry about anything at all. this place is perfect. nobody will be coming here anymore, you can relax"

he was enjoying the pleasure of finding someone resistant to his curse, surely you weren't leaving at all. you were his new companion.

you're right, he hadn't felt a human touch in so long, but that's exactly why he will be extra careful with you. even after centuries he still knows how soft and fragile omegas are, he'll take great care of you. it'll be just the two of you and mikey's undefeated power. you're the only one immune, he'll scare people away like he always did, turn them into statues without even lifting a finger, keeping you in his arms while he only has to lift his gaze to erase the threat.

and he'll also get rid of all of the old statues in the garden! it's your garden now, so there's no need for such frightening decorations...

mikey is so ecstatic, he didn't feel such bliss in a while. he's already anticipating all the things you're both going to do together !

but despite his excitement, mikey still is an alpha born in such old times, so he's old-fashioned : he loves you, provides for you and protects you, and as such, he doesn't tolerate outbursts from you. he likes respect. he's an alpha, so you need to listen to him. he's doing that for the both of you! just keep making happy and he'll keep you away from those terrible people you call your family, who deliberately sent you here, even while knowing what would become of you...

but regardless, he's just so happy to be cured from his usual loneliness that he unknowingly becomes more and more lenient, accepting anything from his new omega. you're such a joy to his normally gloomy and silent day. keep talking to him, keep asking him to show you around, he loves it.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

ALPHA! MITSUYA (a strange saviour)

you cursed yourself under your breath for being such a dumb person while gripping tighter a wicker basket filled to the brim with freshly picked flowers.

they only bloomed at night during the full moon and they just smelled so good you couldn't help yourself from going out once a month to snatch them from the tricky path where they grew.

it was risky and dangerous, not only because you were aventuring yourself in such a desolated area, but also because your sweet aroma seemed to get even softer the longer you walked to your house.

you hurried along, feet stumbling through the hard floor and occasional rocks all because of your precipitation. distinct voices and irregular steps were following you close behind, getting closer with each times you missed a step while scurrying down the stairs and met with a wall you didn't remember was there.

"y/n ! hurry and get your ass back there, you know I don't like chasing a blind omega around, just come here and stop making things harder for the both of us !", you shivered from the strong authoritative voice, calling you back in an annoyed growled while his friends snickered by his sides, enjoying way too much this little tantrum you were pulling.

your tears came running down your face, feeling so helpless with how little you knew your way and how merciless you knew your fiancé would be once he got his hands on you.

you never agreed to such proposal, but you came from a poor family and they were just too desperate to marry off their defective daughter. you were handed off to a same-age alpha, a spoiled idiot who liked to torment you even though you weren't still officially his wife.

if you knew you would've met him during your outing, you would've kept your basket neatly away in a closet and sat down near the fireplace.

when he caught you walking all alone at night, the alcohol in his brain and lack of respect for your dignity led him to a pervet shout your way.

he said he simply wanted to introduce you to his friends but with the way they were all looking at you was enough to tell you otherwise. so you ran, not sure where you were heading to.

in a second, you stopped abruptly in your tracks, a forceful hand grasping your arm and pushing you to the wall before you could even react. the force was such you felt light-headed, and the horny scents of the little pack of alphas made you nearly gag.

you pleaded and cried for him not to touch you, both being the only thing you could do. "oh come on, you're making me look like the bad guy here. isn't it my right to touch you as your fiancé?"

you cried harder, shaking your head and asking him to let you go. you felt such distress it was hard to control yourself. you were disoriented and lost, absolutely confused as to who exactly was before you excepted for your fiancé. would anyone save you if you screamed ? you doubted it, considering how his family was respected and felt sick in your head to know nobody would take the side of an omega like you.

you were wriggling again the grip he had on your neck when you felt it. cold and hard on your skin, rough to the touch and barely alive anymore. silence fell upon you before you could breathe again and a loud shattering noise was heard. tiny pieces of rocks hit your feet and your eyebrows furrowed when you heard the panicked pleads of the once so arrogant alphas.

you stayed put, unaware of the crime scene before you and the lavender-haired man who had just emerged from the next street upon catching your screams and sour scent.

you tried to catch your breathe, a serie of "please no!" escaping their throats, but you never relaxed, even when the deafening silence engulfed you once again after the similar shattering sounds were heard.

your eyes were wide open, frantically searching around in the obscurity. you gathered your hands to your chest in hope to make you appear smaller than you were, to appease whoever was pissed off.

"I'm sorry they did that to you", you jumped at the calm tone of his voice. you instinctively turned your head towards him, your pretty eyes catching his unknowingly.

he felt himself tense under your stare because of how unusual it was for him to be face to face with anyone.

"go home for tonight and don't wander alone like that again", there was some distance between the both of you, his voice was far away and let you relax a little at his warm and gentle intonation.

despite his initial excitement, his eyes softened when you seemed to trust him, taking slow and careful steps toward him, his voice guiding you.

he watched as you stumble on one of the statues and mitsuya approached you with cautious steps, alerting you that he was coming closer. "tell me if you want me to leave you"

you reassured him with a soar and soft voice, sounding oh so fragile. he offered you his hand in a silent reassurance and with a gentleness you didn't expect. you took it hesitantly and he guided you out of the dark alley you found yourself in.

"are you alright now ?", he asked after a while. none of you seemed to want to let go of each other's hand. he felt strangely scared to leave you alone and the foreign sense of security he gave you forced the two of you together.

"yes, thanks to you"

mitsuya was a sweet man despite the initial fear everyone seemed to arbour every time they met him. he took his sweet time getting to know you, and you didn't expect to have him by your door the next day, your basket of flowers put back together in one piece after being torn apart yesterday night.

you kept having little dates together, secretly hiding away in the deep forest mitsuya knew by heart. he made sure to take you to the best spots, while reassuring you with soft hums and a comforting scent every chance he got.

the connexion he felt with you was refreshing and sparked in him a protective instinct he didn't think he had in him.

he wanted to make sure you felt safe and would be willing to go on another date with him afterwards so he behaved correctly while assuring you nobody would be mean to you if you remained by his side.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

ALPHA! KAZUTORA (a fateful kidnapping)

bloody screams and desperate attempts at escaping drove each one of you mad. you ran without knowing where, only trying to chase away the yelling of your people.

you tripped against the statues littered across the floor, scratching your knees and hurting your hands in the process. you tried not to think of your dead loved ones, only focusing on your survival.

he was mad, completely crazy and thirsty for revenge.

your people had failed to give him a satisfying enough offering like you always did and here were the consequences.

a real massacre.

you found your way to a deserted house and pushed the door open, you scurried under the small space of the stairs, not having enough strength to drag yourself anywhere farther.

you heard him not long after, slow steps as if teasing you. you both knew you weren't winning and it amused him.

"where are you hiding little one ? if only you could smell yourself, only a fool would walk pass such a sweet scent"

you tried to muffle your pitiful cries, eyes shutting themselves with force. you couldn't calm your breathing down when he came closer, knowing exactly where you went but wanting to see you give yourself to him willingly.

"so cute", he whispered that more to himself than you, a smirk stretching his lips.

he bent down right next to you, inhaling deeply your scent. he took a lock of your hair in his hands, a satisfied look in his eyes.

"oh come on omega, just open your pretty eyes for me to see. listen to me while I'm being nice"

when you refused he persisted, keen on to see you give in. "you're the only one left omega, better make this quick for yourself don't you think?", your breath was cut short at the revelation, growing more and more distressed at your predicament.

"calm down, just breathe for me okay. don't want you fainting on me, it would be no fun right?"

a strange fondness made his way inside kazutora's heart while he helped you reach a calmer state. your head was still kept low, and tears kept running. but you managed to slow down your heartbeats thanks to him spreading calming pheromones all around you, your instincts reacting to them without your consent.

"that's right, just like that. you're doing so well"

and slowly but surely, everything felt calm again. you reached for his hands now gently cradling your face and forced them away from you.

you felt desperate, his proximity kept your thoughts going as just how fucked up your situation was, how inescapable it was. so you took advantage of your more relaxed state to pry your eyes open, guiding them up to meet his.

he watched you silently, almost regretfully but did nothing to stop you. he was eager to see your whole face and in the mere second when you lifted your face, he swore your statue would be the only one he took with him. he wouldn't let you rot away with the others. such a scared and fragile little thing...

and yet, he fell silent as he took in your soft features.

"your eyes...", he trailed off, shocked.

you were just as confused. why wasn't he doing anything? why was it taking so long? he mirrored your confusion, was your blindness enough to stop his curse from working on you?

a wave of relief washed over him and for the first time in years, kazutora felt at peace.

he didn't have to carry with him your dead body, he could simply ask you to follow him, or even better! he was going to court you, just like he dreamed of doing. he could look at you in all the angles and you wouldn't be harmed !

how sweet life was to finally smile at him and gift him a precious omega.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

ALPHA! BAJI (a gift from aphrodite)

desperately lonely. that's how baji felt for hundred of years now, since he was struck with his curse.

he ostracised himself from society, scared of bringing harm to anyone who would do just as much as look at him. he was feared and hated, despite never wishing anything bad on anyone.

one night, he found himself on the temple of aphrodite, the goddess of love, and begged all he could to grant him his only wish. the only desire he ever had.

upon hearing his cries, the goddess sent her child, cupidon, and charged him with a mission to bring her faithful devotee the perfect match for him.

you didn't know how you found yourself here, laying down on that same altar baji was praying on just about a few minutes ago.

all your senses were alert, trying to catch any familiar scent that would indicate where you were.

but you didn't smell anything, except for the cold marble floor and the strong and intimidating scent of what could be nothing else, if not an alpha.

"w-where am I? and who are you?" your voice bounced on the walls of the immense temple, and it sounded just like honey to baji's ears.

he couldn't believe his own eyes. had his prayers finally been answered? after a hundred years all but begging for the deity to let him find a precious omega who would come to love him and who wouldn't be harmed by his deadly curse.

and there you were! from the way your doe-eyes were looking around you, never settling on anything, he knew he had nothing to be scared about.

you won't crumble under his gaze, and baji could keep and love you to himself, just like he always dreamt.

he carefully went up to you, sweet words and kind purrs. and as if you were destined, you felt nothing but comfort emitting from the stranger, trusting him fully after just a few minutes.

"hey there, that's it I'm right here. you can stay up there while I come to help you down, okay?"

baji's instincts were screaming, blissfully looking at his adorable omega. he didn't know how to thank aphrodite, but one thing was for sure, he was going to cherish you to show just how grateful he was.

ALPHA! IZANA (sick love)

izana couldn't believe it and he'll keep spending his whole life trying to ignore the deadly weapon he has in his eyes.

it wasn't always like that, it was only the result of a deity's punishment after he had accidentally profaned his temple.

and the day he witnessed the first ever person falling to his death for simply looking at him was a nightmare burned inside his memory.

he hated the curse and hated how isolated he became afterwards, how his village, his friends and even his family chased him from his hometown, refusing to even take one last look at him.

but luckily he had you. his sweet childhood friend who stayed with him through thick and thin while never feeding the thought of abandoning him like all the others.

you were blind and resistant to his curse, so your relationship never changed. at first.

the usually kind alpha you knew quickly turned bitter and tried to drive away anybody trying to come to you, just like they all avoided him.

if they thought his curse was going to make it easier for them to court you, they were dead wrong.

izana developed a growing obsession for you and a sick jealousy which ruled your entire life now. you thought it would pass once he recognised your loyalty and eventually came to terms with his own cursed eyes. but he never did and only worsened with the time, growling at you to never leave him, that you would lose your way without his guidance, that people would try to steal you because of how naive and innocent you were. he wanted to force this codependency on you and break you down to make it sure you would always need him.

none of it made sense and you tried to reason him. even when people started to yell at him to get away from here, only you stood by his side, knowing that the charming boy you once knew wasn't all gone.

but this situation only made it easier for him to keep you for himself, your people not caring if you left alongside him as long as he left the village immediately.

he comforted himself at seeing your similar treatment and grew overly possessive, only allowing you to breathe and stay pretty next to him, occasionally patching up his wounds if he had to fight someone for your safety.

"y/n, you know how much I love you right ? those people only wish the worst for us, that's why I had to do that, you understand? I just need you, my sweet omega, you'll stay with me, right?"

and you don't have a choice but to mutter a kind "of course!" with a fake enthusiasm, knowing full well that even though he can't force you to stay put by turning you into stone, he can and will physically restrain you enough that you'll never even foster the idea of running away and leave him alone.

you're the only flawless being he ever met, izana wishes for things to stay that way. you offer him stability and if you were to be gone, he'd completely lose it.

[sandwhitches]

✦ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: a love story told through peaches

✦ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, childhood best friends to lovers

✦ 𝐜𝐰: language, tiny bit of angst in places if you squint, kissing/making out, mutual pining, fem. reader (one mention of “girlfriend”), reader has a mother

✦ 𝐚/𝐧: inspired by the poem “From Blossoms” by Li-Young Lee (which is just a beautiful piece, do read it if you find the time!) randomly decided i wasn’t allowed to sleep until i finished this fuck ass thing so enjoy i guess. if it’s really bad i wouldn’t know i read over it once and hit post, so i humbly apologize if this is word vomit.

✦ 𝐰𝐜: 3.1k

It first happened in 2000, the fresh spoils of summer weighed down on skinny branches of the tree they had grown on, perfect for little hands to pluck. At the base of its trunk, you sat cross-legged, crunching into a perfectly ripe peach for the very first time that summer.

That day, as you remember it, was intended to be spent with a pout; after all, your mother had dropped you off for the day with your new neighbors to run errands, leaving you with two identical makeshift playmates you couldn’t say you were too fond of. 

Atsumu is the oldest twin, but he’s an inch shorter than his brother Osamu, which confuses you. Aren’t you supposed to be taller when you’re older? They’re both more interested in roughhousing than skipping rope or coloring, they bicker over small things, and they smell too much like the outdoors. From the first five minutes at the Miya household, you decided you were not going to enjoy it.

Osamu found you crouched in the living room, dejectedly pushing one of their toy cars back and forth with a finger, counting as high as you could under your breath (about five-hundred until you ran out of steam.) 

“Whatcha doin’?” That’s another thing that initially unsettled you about them, the way they spoke. Their words came out lazier, much more different than any other kid or adult you’d met before moving to the Kansai region. If I spoke like that, you thought, I would probably be corrected.

 “Nothing.” You’d mumbled, too shy to look up at him. That didn’t seem to deter Osamu one bit, because that’s how you found yourself beneath the peach tree in their backyard, licking the sticky juice that had bled down your arm upon the first bite.

You’re a bit intimidated by Osamu, who had somehow managed to eat two peaches in the duration it took you to eat one, but you still keenly listened as he told you about how his grandmother planted that tree a long time ago. 

Atsumu was on the other side of the yard scowling, Osamu said it was because he didn’t like the way peach fuzz felt on his tongue.

By 2006, you’ve realized there’s more than one way to eat a peach, your favorite method as of that summer was the peach pie that the Miyas’ mom would make if you asked her really nicely.

Atsumu had since gotten over his personal grudge against peaches and Osamu probably liked them more than he did before. Neither of them would even think about eating a slice if it did not come with a generous dollop of vanilla ice cream on the side. You’re stuffed full after two helpings of dessert, hunched over in discomfort at their kitchen counter. 

It’s no surprise that Osamu was shuffling his fourth slice of the night onto his plate, fueled by an appetite unfathomable to most people but him. “There’s not gonna be any left if ya keep piggin’ out,” Atsumu hissed, slapping a palm flat on the counter; he was also hardly able to move after a full meal and then some, but he always found enough energy within himself to insult his brother. 

Osamu, who turned out to be the quieter of the twins, didn’t have a verbal rebuttal, but took a resolute bite that perfectly asserted a good enough response to piss his brother off. 

Your mother usually called an hour or so after sunset if you were still with the Miya twins, and during the summer, you were always with them. It was Osamu who walked you next door most nights, your pathway lit by flickery street lamps that swarms of bugs buzzed around, save for the cicadas that chirruped their nightly song in the bushes.

He was still a bit disgruntled after Atsumu had reached over and pushed him, leading them headfirst into an angry brawl on the linoleum floor of the kitchen. 

“Such an idiot,” Osamu muttered angrily under his breath to fill the silence, hands twitching in the pockets of his pants. You don’t tell him this, and you don’t really know why this is, but you think that might be the first time you realized you had a slight preference towards him.

 After all, out of the two of them, Osamu was the only one who didn’t complain when you changed the channel to the weekly showing of your favorite cartoon (a “girl cartoon” as Atsumu had put it with irritation laced in his voice), he was the one that knocked on your door in the mornings and asked your mom if you were up yet, and no matter how many new friends he made, he’d sit with you at lunch. 

In the winter of 2008, you coped with the seasonally baron peach tree with the light pink package you tore open on the floor of Osamu’s room.

You were long done with your homework for the day, Atsumu was avoiding his, and Osamu was scrabbling away at his desk with a look of dull boredom. You popped a peach gummy into your mouth. Sometimes you’d forget that if you walked from school with them in your backpack, the winter air would toughen up the candy, and make it harder to chew; surprisingly, you found it tasted better that way. 

Atsumu’s back was pressed against the floor, hands outstretched as he tossed a slightly deflated volleyball a few inches, caught it in the basket of his ten fingers, then pushed it back into the air. You watched him as he got testier with his limits, letting the ball drop closer and closer to his face until his fingers couldn’t stretch fast enough, and the ball bounces off of his forehead. 

In order to deflect his embarrassment, he turned to you, raising a brow, “Those don’t even taste like peaches.” Atsumu commented superfluously, knowing himself that it was a pointless thing to say.

He’s not very popular with the boys on his volleyball team because he does things like that, and Osamu told you with a look of concern that he doesn’t even care. You think you agree with Osamu, Atsumu is certainly annoying, but he isn’t necessarily unlikeable. 

Atsumu is blessed to have a brother like Osamu, who is most likely incapable of ever growing to dislike him. Not many people have such a degree of patience for him, and you suppose that’s why they’re brothers. 

Without a retort from you, he returned his attention to tossing the ball once more. 

Your eyes were drawn to a hand that reached over the seat. Splotches of ink stained the side of Osamu’s palm because he always wrote with a heavy hand. You grinned wordlessly and placed three candies into the center of his cupped palm, knowing he was going to ask for more once those are gone. 

That’s okay, you think, because Osamu is the only person you know who does not ask for you to share because he’s greedy, he asks because he simply likes to share. There’s no ulterior motive or impatience in the way he holds his hand out once more, only an eagerness to enjoy something with you. That, for a reason you’d been avoiding to confront over the past year, made your heart flutter like a caged bird. 

In 2011, you find yourself back where you started, criss-crossed under the peach tree beside Osamu as you enjoy the first bloom of the summer. You bite into the peach’s dusty skin, uncaring that the sweet juice dripped down your chin and collected at the corners of your mouth. Osamu rolled a pit around his hand after meticulously sucking the flavor left from it, he pressed his fingers into it until it made indents on the skin. 

You paused, wiping your face with the back of your forearm, “Somethin’ on your mind?” It had been a very long time since their accent had bled into your own tongue, and you never noticed it anymore. Osamu glanced up, eyes clouded over with thought, “Do ya think I’m boring?” 

The question surprised you. You couldn’t remember a time Osamu voiced an insecurity, in fact, you were beginning to enviously think that he didn’t have any. Boring? You wondered what could have brought that about. How long had he felt that way?

Since starting high school, you’d noticed an influx of opportunities for the twins to be compared. As far as popularity went, Atsumu had surprisingly climbed up the ranks the first month. In volleyball, no matter how great Osamu’s spikes were, Atsumu’s sets were always better. At home, they’d taken to rapid firing every grade they’d received in the past week until it was clear who was performing best, and Atsumu frequently took the cake.

On top of this, Atsumu was now one inch taller than Osamu. 

It’s almost funny, you thought to yourself, they’re not that much different than when they were younger. They still roughhouse and bicker and they still can’t be angry at each other for longer than five hours.

Both of them still consistently pulled off stupid stunts, the most recent one being the cheap boxed dye they purchased with the hope of having a shot at being two different people for once. 

Finally, you replied, “I don’t think that at all.” And you wished you had said more. 

Osamu, you thought that night as you replayed the memory, I think you’re anything but that. You’re funny, and you always think about other people…and I think you’re one of the nicest people I know. You buried your face into the pillow, groaning. If you’d managed to at least say half of that, maybe he would have smiled instead of looking away, nodding in disappointment. 

Your mom was frowning to herself in 2014 as she folded up your high school uniform and packed it into a cardboard box to be forgotten with the other relics from your childhood. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you handed her your school shoes, “You might wanna throw ‘em out, the soles are about to lift anyways.” You know she won’t. She’s sentimental. 

Later on that evening, you told Osamu all about it on the lawn chairs in their backyard, swatting off a mosquito that buzzed in your ear. The two of you had just returned from a midnight run to the convenience store, indulging in salty chips that made your mouth go dry, but were impossible to stop eating. Such an issue was easy to remedy with the juice of a peach, even though the nectar wasn’t as sweet.

A few months before, during January, Hyōgo was hit with the iciest winter storm in a while, leading to the unfortunate demise of the peach tree in their backyard. Atsumu was more than positive that the old friend would make a comeback, but come springtime, it did not blossom and remained a thin skeleton of rigid sticks.

Now you had to buy a peach if you wanted one. 

The convenience store peach was slightly overripe, but you supposed that beggars can’t be choosers. 

Osamu listened intently, his face hardly discernible in the dark. You two hadn’t meant to be up so late, but you often lost track of time these days, you noticed that it goes by so fast now that you’re older. 

“I’m scared,” your voice was shaky, tears threatening to spill for the umpteenth time that day. You didn’t want to go to sleep, because you knew in the morning you’d have to leave. It would end for the very first time. You tried very hard not to think about the bags all packed up in your room, and with such empty walls it was beginning to feel like it wasn’t even yours anymore.

 “What if I don’t like it?”

Osamu sighed quietly, setting the peach he held down to place a comforting hand on your knee, “Yer gonna do just fine, ya know that?” He mumbled quietly, and if he wasn’t touching you, you might have been able to consider what he was saying to a deeper extent. It’s easier said than done when you’ve already come to terms with the fact that you’re madly in love with someone you’re sure you shouldn’t be. 

“I know, but…I don’t want it to change…I don’t like not seein’ you.” 

Though you couldn’t witness it in the inky cast of twilight, something changed in his face, and you wouldn’t have had a clue had his next words not come out as strained as they did, “We’ll see each other durin’ breaks.” Osamu whispered, almost as if it was a reassurance for nobody but him.

That’s not enough. You’d been with Osamu every day for nearly the entire duration of your life, how could it only be rendered down to a few precious weeks a year? You couldn’t take it. The tears finally flowed freely down your cheeks, muffled noises of anguish pushed against your bitten lip. 

“Hey,” Osamu muttered hurriedly, calloused hand moving to cup the side of your face, he thumbed at a stray tear. “Nothing’s gonna change while yer gone…okay? We’ll all-…I’ll still be the same. I promise.”

“How can I know that?” You sniffled between sobs, unabashedly leaning into his touch. 

With everything to lose, but nothing else he wanted, Osamu leaned forward and pressed his face against yours, his lips tenderly grazed against your own in a rushed kiss. Upon remembering himself, Osamu pulled away swiftly, exhaling in disappointment. 

“Shit, I’m really sorry, I don’t-”

You cut him off in a desperate search of his lips once more in the dark, kissing him like you’ve been starved your whole life, finally allowed a meal just this once.

Up close, he smelled like the linens his mother used to hang in the backyard, the ones you weaved in between during clumsy games of tag that always ended in skinned knees and grass stains. Osamu’s lips felt like the succulent meat of a peach, soft and warm; they tasted of its nectar, not of the convenience store peach, but of the sweeter ones that used to grow in that very backyard. Osamu’s kiss was everything you’ve grown to love and everything you’ve yearned for. 

You pulled apart after awkwardly knocking foreheads one too many times, giggling mindlessly at the state the two of you were in. The hand on your knee squeezed tighter, and Osamu rested his head in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. You wondered if you also smelled like the linens, like peach juice, if he could hear that your heartbeat sounded like the cicadas that sung to the two of you during your shared childhood summers. 

“When ya come back,” Osamu started quietly, “I promise I’ll still feel the same.”

It’s 2019 and you’re knackered, bored of watching the wooden posts that held up a barrier along the road go by, tired of the same playlist that’s been on loop all day, and yet you’re not even close to being sick of the man in the driver's seat. 

Osamu blinked at the road groggily, appearing to also be over the long haul through the mountains. 

“Remind me again why I moved?” He droned, readjusting his loose grip on the wheel as he took another turn that does not particularly help your developing carsickness. “Because you missed me?” You mused playfully, lolling your head to the side to watch his expression lighten up significantly. 

“I did, didn’t I?” 

It’d almost been a whole year since Osamu had gotten fed up with how little he got to see you, his girlfriend, and decided without hesitation that the perfect place for him to open up his restaurant would be in Osaka, only a few minutes away from your campus.

You’d since graduated, gotten an entry-level job with shitty hours and shittier pay, and found yourself a nice little apartment for the two of you to share. 

It would be your first summer returning to Hyōgo together.

Maybe it’s always been this way, though. You couldn’t remember a time in which you didn’t love Osamu, and similarly, you couldn’t remember a time where it didn’t feel like he loved you. It was always meant to happen this way. Things like kisses and passionate touch bloomed in time as the seasons turned, but the roots of his love had always been there since the beginning, digging deeper into you until it was your favorite way to live. 

You hummed in realization, bending over in your seat to grab something from the floor of the car, “Almost forgot about these.” 

Osamu peered back over at the sound of light rustling, eyes glinting with affection as you reached your hand into a brown paper bag, pulling out a peach. It was impossible for the two of you not to stop as you drove through one of the quaint small towns, a little boy sold the fruit from his family’s orchard beneath a hand painted wooden sign. 

You bought five peaches, each one large and solid in the palm of your hand, and you think you might have forgotten how much grocery store peaches pale in comparison to ones that were plucked from a tree that very morning.

 “When we get our own house-...” you started. A wry grin twisted on Osamu’s lips in response. 

The two of you liked to play this game, fantasizing about the distant future in which you’re able to settle down in the suburbs, far away from grumpy landlords and noisy upstairs neighbors.

You both had already lost track of half of the dreams you wished to fulfill, only able to barely recall the simple things like two dogs, a nicer oven, and dark green walls in the bedroom. 

Even though it’s a game, you hoped you didn’t forget this time. “Let’s plant a peach tree in the backyard.” 

Osamu laughed under his breath, but you can see a hint of nostalgic fondness bring warmth to his expression, “I dunno, yer gonna have to be in charge…I don’ really have a green thumb.” 

You’ve since taken a large bite of the peach, then passed it to him. Much to your amusement, Osamu only turned his face ever so slightly to eat it from your hand, eyes still carefully fixed on the road.

“I think I can do that,” you nodded, bringing the sweet fruit back to your lips again. If there’s one thing you end up doing in your make believe house, you hope it’s that. 

And there, in the comfortable silence of the car, you bask in an all too familiar feeling whilst enjoying your favorite thing to share: the fresh spoils of summer.

[vanilleandclove]

rings of fire | chapter two

ser erryk cargyll x targaryen! reader | chapter one: the twin of politics

After your mother is laid to rest alongside your brother Baelon, your father's council is urging the King to choose another heir, though to Otto Hightower's and the council's distaste, the heir and the spare, are both women. The princess's as fierce and ruly they are, they are still women at the end of discussion.

word count: 2.6k | warnings: reader gets her lick back over viserys, reader gets compared to daemon (when i catch you otto), reader also only cares about honorifics if they aren't used by people she hates | author's note: i kept listening to "grace" by jeff buckley and "so tonight that i might see" by mazzy star while writing this, that is why the reader is progressively irritable. AGAIN (just in case you didn't see my update), preaching to the choir, never talk to or engage into a situationship with a man who plays guitar, even if he looks like kurt cobain.

previous - next

Upon hearing the news of your mother's death, you remained staying at the godswood, standing still, looking intently on the branches that grew above ground. The leaves that were painted crimson, a pop of color from the trees white and pale branches. You've been here time and time again, often gravitating to it whenever you needed an extra-bit of seclusion from the outside world. It has been a day since your mother's death, you awoke from the handmaidens removing the blood-soaked birthing blankets and Otto Hightower announcing the death of your brother, Baelon. You remained in your chambers as you heard your father's curses ring through the Keep, your wails were whispers amongst the walls.

"Y/n" a voice spoke up, a voice belonging to none other than Alicent Hightower, "It is time to ready yourself for the funeral, your father is looking aimlessly for you". You closed your eyes, sclera's both damp and dry from crying endlessly. You did not look back, or show any sign of acknowledgment, simply just walked off from the godswood, when you brushed shoulders, you simply stated.

"Princess".

Walking the halls of the Red Keep, you were only met of looks of pity and fear, fear for your consequences that may become of you from your father's yells and shouts of your name, pity for the obvious reason, you were a motherless child, whose father hardly treated her like that of a daughter. Once you walked past your father's chamber in the Holdfast, you simply nodded at Ser Ryam, who alerted your father of your presence before you wandered to your own chamber. Only then you were met with the likes of Erryk, his brother guarding your sister's chambers.

You nodded whilst looking into his eyes, he saw your pain, your anguish, he only wished to carry it rather than let you go through it on your own. Though he feared it would not be his place, as you entered your chambers, closing the door almost immediately, your handmaidens quickly ran to your side.

Undressing your clothes, to change into your funeral attire. Your handmaiden, Hana gave you a look, seeing the littered healing bruises that were cascading down from your breasts to your inner thigh, only then taking note to the almost fully faded bruise on your neck. You closed your eyes as Hana excused all the other handmaidens out of your chambers.

"I take you had company not so long ago" Hana clicked her tongue, before she helped you dress, carefully choosing her words, "Perhaps some makeup can cover-". You shook your head, knowing your hair would easily cover the lovebite that looked like a near tiny mole. Hana did not press you on the matter only helping you dress before aiding you on your hair. Truth be told, Hana was a second mother to you, in the gaps Viserys left you with as a father, Hana doubled as a mother and father, but amongst all the things she was, she was a trusted confidant.

After dressing, you exited out of your chambers, meeting the gaze of Erryk. "I did not think you would still be taking post Ser Erryk" you broke the silence, stepping out and taking his arm that he held out, keeping eye contact only led for your heart to begin to thump erratically.

"I keep my vow to protect you princess" Erryk answered, "That means both physically and emotionally. Arryk is escorting your sister to the pyre as we speak" he continued as you both walked throughout the halls, "I meant to return Blackfyre to you princess, but I do not believe it to be appropriate at this moment" you glanced over to his hips, where two swords laid to rest. You nodded before responding to the knight.

"I fear Blackfyre dons better on your body than mine" you exasperated as chills ranked throughout your body, "Though the distaste I earned from the Hightower's might spill onto you Ser Erryk".

"I believe it to be worth it, my princess" Erryk told you, upon making it outside, the cold air rushing against both of your faces. He gracefully placed his hand on your waist, situating itself comfortably amongst the fabrics, he squeezed lightly. It was like the stagnant spin of electricity between you, every time you met eyes or laid touch on each other; a spark or multiple.

Once reaching the pyre, Erryk excused himself to be stationed next to his brother and the Kingsguard as you stood next to Rhaenyra- just in front of your father. Daemon muttered to you and Rhaenyra as everyone made their positions upon the pyre, you began to muster a few sobs under your breath. Rhaenyra held your hand tightly; Daemon placed a hand on your shoulder. They wanted you to do it, to burn your mother and brother. Though, Nymeria laid in the Dragonpit, you would not be able to command Syrax.

You bit your lip tightly, looking to your left to see the Kingsguard standing in position, Erryk staring at you intently before nodding at you. Unbeknownst to you, Otto Hightower took note to the glances, as all Kingsguard stared at the pyre, Erryk only stared at you. You nodded to yourself as you let go of your sister's hand, stepping up. Rhaenyra shall be the daughter of the Seven Kingsdoms, whereas Y/n, shall be the daughter of the dragons. Just as Rhaenys and Visenya.

"Syrax" you spoke up, "Dohaeragon issa" you became to gulp, staring at the graves, hearing the voices of your sister and Daemon, looking back at them, earning a simple nod of proceeding from both of them, "Dra-Dracarys" you ordered, Syrax did not relent, seeing to the cremation of your mother and brother, to become ash.

Taking place back to your sister you spoke up, "Visenya, istan se kostōba se nēdenka tala- nykeā diplomat se nykeā drēje jentys" looking at her with glassy irises, "Muñnykeā va moriot compared issa naejot zȳhon, se ao naejot Rhaenys. Though, nyke pāsagon zirȳ naejot sagon keskydoso, ziry iksos Visenya qilōni iksos honored syt zȳhon cruel yet nēdenka temper" your voice did not falter as you spoke to your sister in your mother tongue, earning looks of those around you, "Baelon would emagon issare se prince naejot sagon idealized hae Aegon, lu īlon raqagon ziry nykeā daor" before ending your speech to your sister, "Avy jorrāelan jorrāelagon mandia, īlon issi ry īlon emagon hen each tolie. Ao shall sagon dāria mēre tubis; nyke shall sagon se idañnykeā hen diplomacy".

"Perzys se ānogar" Rhaenyra told you, your house words. Fire and blood.

"Perzys se ānogar" you repeated, looking back at the fire that burned.

Walking the halls of the Keep, hearing the indistinct mutters of your father's meeting as the council posed the question of the succession. Looking across the hall to see Erryk and Arryk walking the way to the chambers of you and Rhaenyra, you sensed Erryk caught a glimpse of you, though he kept to his direction. You sneakily snuck your way into the halls of the council room, a window peeping into the room, just as you overheard more distinctly the conversation.

"Daemon would be another Maegor- If you pass the title of heir to Rhaenyra, if she does not have children, we will see Y/n- another Visenya and Maegor- ascend the throne" Otto pressed. Your jaw clenched tightly; you have shown nothing but peace to the Hightower's. Otto quickly saw his advantage of besmirching the name of your house and forebears.

To hell with 'Maegor the Cruel', whether you liked it or not, he was still of Targaryen blood. Visenya's direct blood might not be flowing through yours, her appearance was yours, her attitude, pride, and drive. Visenya, rider of Vhagar, a woman of politics, a conqueror, a warrior, though only remembered for being the mother of Maegor. Maegor was born cruel they said, though they forget the lack Aegon was a father to Maegor, even as Maegor wielded his blade and rode his dragon- Aenys, as much as a spectacle his parentage was, was Aegon's favorite. Say what you may about Maegor, but for Visenya, she loved and cared for her son and house, for the betterment of each- to the very fucking end.

You would be a mad woman to allow a cunt such as Otto Hightower to blatantly attempt to shame and dishonor your house's name and forebears in order to usurp. You were aware of Otto's other attempt to bring his daughter closer to your father. Your father was weak. Your mother always kept him somewhat strong, she made a man out of him, without her, he was lost puppy. Nevertheless, you left the council room, heaving with anger but with a new sense of pride. They would rather be clueless enough to tear the entirety of the realm apart, than sit a woman, your sister in question, on the Iron Throne. Even though it is the women who conquered the realm as their brother made them as a spectacle for jealously or rivalry, only exemplified in their sons that followed. It is women who united the realm, it is men who want to tear it.

"Valar morghulis" you muttered under your breath.

It was a quick gesture, inviting Erryk into your chambers shamelessly. Undressing yourself in front of him unabashedly, undressing his armor and detaching his cloak, all quick with no regrets. You stood naked and bare in front of him, not a care for oaths sworn to your father. That shameless behavior extended to the fire that ignited within the two of you as Erryk made love to you. He knew what made the daughter of dragons burn.

Your nails clawed at his back as his cock kissed the innards of your walls, his hand finding itself rubbing your clit slowly as it led you tightening on him, it was a fair exchange. Your back arched in response to his cock hitting the anchor of your pussy, though it hurt, the pain was overwhelming masked with the carnal bliss. Kissing his lips intently in order to soften the moans that exuded from both of your mouths. It was a treachery that sex was frowned upon for women who had not been betrothed or married, you had him once, now you cannot get enough. You envied the married and the men of the realm, not enough to find yourself wanting marriage, but enough that you wished you could scream at the top of your lungs the name of the man between your legs.

"Where do you want me to finish princess?" Erryk groaned as his thrusts unrelented, your eyes, the once pale lavender, were closer to black from lust. Your irises were glassy and your face glistened under the candlelight.

"Inside of me" you moaned, Erryk hesitated, afraid of the repercussions, "Please" it was until he sees your face, though mourning, needy, nonetheless. He obeyed your request, seed spilling into your pussy, filling you with enough warmth to keep you warm for the winter. You stood still for a minute, bones shaking with the pleasure. Erryk grunted as he removed his cock from you, breathing erratic as he laid next to you.

A moment of silence ensued before you broke it, "Do you believe it to be true?".

"What to be true princess?" Erryk quirked an eyebrow, repositioning himself to be facing you.

"Valar morghulis and dohaeris" you further stated, "all men must die-".

"And all men must serve" Erryk cut you off and sighed, fixing your hair to be out of your face, "I believe I must believe it in this line of service princess" you looked him intently, "Being a knight, a Kingsguard no less, you must serve the royal family even with the looming idea you might die serving them".

You shook your head in disagreement, "It must be torture to succumb someone of such service" you hand found itself on his peck, as his heart thumped, "I do honor the tradition of the Kingsguard as Visenya wrote it to be true, though living your life in service to another is just as much as a slave and their master".

"You and I see it differently".

"Then, help me understand" you whispered, looking into his eyes once more.

"I took an oath, I chose my path as a knight, granted Arryk and I were chosen" Erryk told you, "Just as they say Targaryens are closer to the gods than that of man, the Kingsguard are their protectors, what makes us different than men?" he posed the rhetoric question, "There are thousands of men roaming the realm, none of whom know how to protect the King and his family, or on my chances, protect the princess who needs no protection".

"It is a great service" you said before teasing, "Though no man in the realm can also, make the princess cum as you do" Erryk's eyes shined of sin, you were an addiction to the man.

"The King has not named an heir" your handmaidens spoke up as you awoke mid-morning, your face urged intrigue, "Daemon shall be the heir interim, though everyone believes and hopes it to be Rhaenyra before the moon turns".

"Daemon?" you spat at your father as Rhaenyra stood idly in the background, your father remained at his model of old Valyria. "Rhaenyra and I have endlessly shaped ourselves to be the heir to the Iron Throne and Dragonstone, that was our seat as it was since the moment we breathed" you started, "You killed mother for your urgency of siring a son! Unless you plan to marry-".

"Y/n!" Viserys shouted, standing up from his seat, "Daemon is my brother-".

"We are your children!" you screamed, "Rhaenyra is your first born, I your second, you forget yourself! Our grandsires Alyssa and Baelon would have proudly sat a woman on the throne!" you continued only before saying the words you needed your father to hear, "Daemon will not be another Maegor, I will be. I will proudly, take back the crown that belongs to my sister as she is more suited for such role, not a man who draws his sword before thinking. Nymeria is much bigger than Caraxes, do not forget, heirs are a diplomatic decision, you choose Daemon, you lose your strongest asset".

"And what would that be?".

"Your second born daughter".

taglist: @wolvestitches @callsignwidow @majoso12

[maple-the-awesome]

Body Swap || Part 1/2

Part 2 ||

Pairings: Wild, Four, Sky, Hyrule x Reader

Overview: A wizard's spell leaves you both in a state of confusion, especially upon realizing you're no longer in your assigned bodies. No Wind for this one, so we'll just give him a cookie and spare him the trauma for today -.-/🍪 The other boys are at my mercy, though

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

This dungeon had been going great - so great, in fact, that you were actually sad to reach the end of it. Sure, the puzzles were a pain in the butt and the miniboss was an embarrassing waste of time, but what had made it all worth it was the fact that you had gone through every trial right by Link’s side. 

In a group of ten travelers, a date day with just the two of you is rare - extremely and unjustly rare - therefore you had both jumped at the chance of completing this dungeon alone together. Everything was going swimmingly, too, right down to the main boss battle. A tiny, itty bitty yet still very evil wizard is nothing compared to your combined force, so you expected it to be a piece of cake that would end in a wonderful memory to look back on later. Instead, it ended in a very different, less appreciated way.

One more hit was all it should've taken to defeat the little guy, however right as Link raised his bow for the final arrow, the wizard began swinging its wand around in a last ditch effort for success. Fearing for your partner's safety, you had rushed over with your shield, hoping to use it to block whatever spell the wizard planned, but in an unexpected twist, said spell turned into a cloud of smoke instead of a ball of energy like you expected.

As the boss made his escape, the fumes of his final spell poisoned the air and entered your lungs with an uncomfortable burn. Link and you both fell to your knees in coughing fits, suddenly feeling dizzy and woozy much to your concern...

Aside from the initial wave of nausea you felt, that wizard's spell seemed like nothing more than a harmless distraction for escape, at least that's what you would've went on thinking if not for the sight that greeted you once the smoke officially cleared.

"Oh jeez! ...Uhhh, are you alright?" Although a shock indeed, you remain calm with your first priority being to check on Wild who's still fanning away the fumes from his face.

"Yeah, I'm alrig -" He freezes almost as soon as the words are said, his eyes immediately shooting open to look down at his body - or rather your body that he's suddenly found himself in, "WHAT THE -?! HOW AM I - I'M YOU?!"

“Very observant, Wild,” You roll your eyes before looking around the room to find no sign of that wizard. Whether that’s fortunate or unfortunate might depend on your ability to reverse this little problem he’s now left you both with, “...Guess that little guy was such a sore loser he decided to play dirty then retreat. What a coward.”

Standing up, you start examining yourself for possible injuries - ones that weren't already a part of Wild's collection, that is. Thankfully you see nothing aside from a small cut above your hip from a hit he had taken earlier; an easy fix with the help of a red potion. If only the same could be said about your incredibly tangled hair that you pull a leafed branch out of with a cringe, "When was the last time you've taken a bath?"

"Rude!"

"Personal hygiene is very important. It keeps you from harboring full-on ecosystems in your hair."

"...You sound just like the Captain…" Wild mumbles under his breath while pushing himself off the ground. Once up, he wobbles and holds his arms out for balance as if he’s never stood on two legs before.

"Oh, the Captain! He’s going to have the time of his life with this one - all the boys will, I'm sure,” In Wild's opinion, your teasing smirk doesn’t quite carry the same effect as it would if on your assigned face. Instead, it looks a bit...silly to see you speaking as himself and judging on your sniffled laughter, he, too, must look equally as funny glaring back at you as you. 

"Ugh. I can already hear Twilight blaming us for not being careful enough," He groans, subconsciously runs his hand over his arm which is smooth like silk rather than being rough with scars. Huh. He had forgotten how that felt...

"Yep, we're in for a heap of nagging and annoying jokes when we get back, but I say we at least have some fun with it while we can. Wanna see how long it takes anyone to notice?" You nudge his side as you pass by towards the exit of the boss chamber, your suggestion finally lifting his spirits.

"I don’t know. It could take them all night if we keep our mouths shut about it."

"No way. They'll notice as soon as I do something stupid and you don't, which should take approximately an hour at most…I mean, assuming that you’re not asked to make dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well in that case, they’ll definitely notice then. You’re a terrible cook.”

“Rude!”

You moan while rubbing your burning eyes. Even with them closed, you can still see remnants of the same flashy colors that had followed after that wizard’s stupid spell; like a firework show inside your eyelids that's so realistic you can actively smell the gunpowder.

"Don't panic," You hear someone say. You assume it must be Four since he's the only other person here, although his voice sounds different, almost like…

"Don't...? Why would I panic - AHH!" Once finally being able to see straight, you expected to find Four kneeling in front of you, but instead you just see yourself. It's as if you're looking directly into a mirror until you glance down at your hands. That's when you let out a shout, doing the exact opposite of what Four asked by instantly panicking upon realizing they aren't actually your hands, but his. Your clothes, your hair, your BODY; IT’S ALL HIM!

"I’M YOU!”

"I can see that."

"YOU’RE ME?!”

"Yes."

"...H-How are you not freaking out?" You blink at him - er, you? Whoever! You blink at who should be Four but is actually you as he simply shrugs in response to your question as if this is just another Tuesday for him!

"This isn’t really the ‘craziest’ thing that's happened to me. Maybe in the top three, but..."

You stare at him for a long minute, wanting to be angry that he's behaving so calmly right now, although he does have somewhat of a reputation for being one of the more relaxed Link's, not to mention the pair of you have seen some pretty crazy stuff during your adventures, both separate and together.

Running a hand through your hair, you take deep breathes and try your best not to be so freaked out especially once remembering this isn't technically your hair you're touching which makes you instantly stop the action, "...What do we do to fix this?"

"I...don't know."

"You 'don't know'? What, are we supposed to just live like this forever?!"

"No, of course not!" He crosses his arms uncomfortably and sighs, "We'll find a way to reverse the spell and get back to our normal bodies. We're in Legend’s world, but I think he mentioned that his Zelda knows some magic, so if we can get to the Castle, she might be able to help us."

You groan, running your hand over your face in irritation. You were having such a good day until this point! Why can't the universe allow you just one normal evening with your boyfriend, huh? Is that too much to ask for?

Four offers you a hand and helps you up. Once on your feet, you realize yet another detail about your current situation that makes you uncomfortable, "Woah. I'm not used to looking at myself from another perspective like this…or being so low to the ground.”

Four rolls his eyes at your comment before taking your hand and dragging you after him outside of the dungeon.

"Oh, come on! Doesn't it weird you out, too? Looking at yourself from my point of view while I’m in your body?"

"Of course, it’s weird,” He sighs again, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I'm just considering myself lucky I'm only looking at one of me."

"...One?"

"Sky? You alright?" You crawl blindly out of the smoke cloud, coughing along the way while keeping your eyes squeezed shut to prevent anything from getting in them. Although you receive no verbal reply, you can at least relax upon hearing Sky's wheezing close by. 

You’re about to repeat your question, yet your voice dies within your throat. Once opening your eyes, you see yourself kneeled on the ground where you fan smoke away from your nose with a face scrunched up in irritation – except that’s not really you. It can’t be! You’re right here, so how is it that you’re suddenly able to look at yourself through a third person perspective? …Then you look down, slowly but surely putting the pieces together in your head.

"...Sky?" 

Just as predicted, the 'other you' looks up in response, even giving a small hum before their eyes go wide with the same shock you undoubtedly mirror.

“(Y/n)? Is that you? You’re –“

“- You…And you’re me,” It doesn’t matter how many times you close your eyes and reopen them. Each time, you’re greeted by the same sight. Thanks to that stupid wizard, you’ve switched bodies with Sky which definitely wasn’t on your agenda for today…or any other, for that matter. Worst part? Neither of you know a thing about magic to reserve this, “…Shit…”

“M-Maybe someone else knows how to fix this?” Sky suggests hopefully, although judging on his waivered smile, even he must realize it’s a long shot. Not many Links are accustomed to magic either, and believe it or not, no one’s been in this situation yet not that they’ve ever cared to share, anyway.

“Here’s to hoping…Come on, we should at least get out of this place before that wizard comes back and switches our heads,” Sky gulps, but nods.

Standing to your feet, you brush yourself off and prepare to make your exit from this dark boss’s chamber, however you pause in place when you notice Sky following you at much slower pace, his posture rather stiff as he holds his arms slightly away from himself, “…Why are you walking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” You copy his stance then give him a pointed look that makes him bow his head in embarrassment.

“I-I don’t want to touch something I’m not supposed to!”

"Awww, that’s sweet, but dude, you can relax. They're only feminine arms. They won't kill you," You roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at how careful and sweet he's trying to be. If there’s one thing to be grateful for in this situation, it’s that you got switched around with a gentleman instead of a pervert, "Just don't touch my breasts or anything and we’ll be good.”

Poor Sky whimpers uncomfortably after your comment…Yeah, hopefully this situation can be solved without leaving any lasting trauma behind...

"Mmm...Hey, are you alright?"

Hyrule's voice sound so distance despite him being so close by. You wish you could see him, but every time you try to open your eyes, you're only met with blurred colors and sparkles, "...I-I think so..."

Hyrule sighs and is about to say something else, but his relief is instead punctuated with a gasp once he looks down at his hands. He whispers your name, however his voice goes unnoticed the first time. He has to shout it a bit louder for you to actually hear him. Finally, you're able to open your eyes and see a bit more clearly - at least that's what you thought before looking over to his voice and just seeing yourself.

"What kinda spell was that? My eyes aren't working right," You start vigorously rubbing them again only for Hyrule to reach out and grab your wrists to stop you.

"They're working. At least, I-I'm pretty sure they're working. You, uh, see yourself instead of me, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I see myself instead of you."

"Okay?"

Hyrule bows his head, removing his hands from wrists to stare down at them with a wobbled frown, "I don't think it's a trick of our ours. I think that spell switched our bodies."

"...Oh...Oooh!" After his words sink in, you glance down at yourself and pick at your tunic, confirming that it feels as real as it looks.

“Alright. This might seem bad, but look on the bright side: neither of us are hurt so the others can scold us too much, right? Let’s just get back to camp and –" Hyrule’s cut off when you suddenly squeal. Startled, his head snaps back up at you, fearing that perhaps you had gotten hurt somehow, yet to his surprise, you have a bright smile on your face as you tangle your fingers in your hair – or rather his hair.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s just – I’ve always wondered if your hair is as soft as it looks and it definitely is!” You giggle, unable to help yourself from testing your theory personally. Hyrule's hair has always appeared to be the fluffiest out of all the Links and you've been dying to ask him if you can touch it, perhaps even braid it. Now that you technically in his body now, might as well, right? It's at least some benefit to this weird situation, “What do you use to wash it?”

"I, uh...water, I guess?"

“…”

[treacheryinblue]

A Noah Sebastian x F!Reader One Shot

Word Count: 5.2k Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (cut me some slack as I get back into it •‿• ), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff, slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Story Song: God Complex by VIOLENT VIRA

There was an ache in your lungs with every labored breath you took, each one more strained than the last. You could hear his heavy steps trailing not far behind, and even though your calves were burning and you weren't sure how much longer you could carry on, you forced yourself to keep going. The pain didn't matter. All that did was the drive to stay alive. 

'Just a bit longer’, you would tell yourself. A vain hope that the man would tire out eventually and give up. All you had to do was outlast him. A simple task, right? 

Wrong. 

Small branches snapped beneath your bare feet as you did your very best to avoid low tree limbs and protruding roots from the ground. You dodged every obstacle, though you were only leading yourself deeper and deeper into the unknown woods in the process. 

You could hear his maniacal laughter over your shoulder, and you swore you could even feel his breath pass your skin, but there was no way he was that close without having snagged you yet. Finally, you took a sharp right turn and pressed your back up against the opposite side of a rather large tree. Tears streamed down your face, your hand covering your mouth to keep your sobs and heavy breathing muffled. 

“Come out, come out…” the man taunted, amusement evident in his sadistic tone. “We need to finish what we started or else it’s six feet under for both of us.” 

You forced your eyes closed, squeezing them as tight as possible. Maybe you would open them and be in your bed, all of this having been some sick and twisted nightmare. Unfortunately, that's not what lied ahead for you. 

Rough hands secured around your shoulders, forcing you down to the dirt without a hint of remorse. A scream erupted from you due to the sudden action, as well as the fear, obviously. 

“No! Please stop!” You pleaded while your fists tried their very best to bang against his chest, face, head - really anywhere you could reach. “Just let me go!” 

“Help! Someone help! Please!” 

The man’s laughter echoed through the woods and soon he had managed to pin your hands down on either side of your head. You squirmed and writhed beneath him, desperate to escape the heavy weight of his body being placed down on to you. 

“There's no one out here to save you, princess.” He somehow shifted your wrists into one of his hands, leaving the other free to dip down. “It's just the two of us.” 

There was a glint from the faint glow of moonlight shining off the blade he produced. The sight of it instantly silenced you, your eyes growing wide in terror. “Please...” you continued to beg through your tears, but it was as if the man couldn't hear a thing. Not that he cared about what you had to say. 

Then, without hesitation, he was forcing the knife at an angle up into your stomach. You gasped as the pain consumed you, too stunned to cry out again. Or maybe you were becoming too weak, due to the loss of blood and all. The man didn't stop there, though. He retracted the knife, shifted a bit, just before plunging it down into your chest. Another gasp escaped you, but this one didn't seem to hurt as bad as the first. Actually…you didn't feel much of anything anymore. 

Although there was a warmth consuming you, your assumption was that it was just the blood escaping from your body and pooling, but the deeper you progressed into the darkness, the more you began to believe that wasn't entirely true. 

× × ×

Suddenly, your eyes snapped open and you were staring up at a high, dark ceiling, and not the previous trees you had just been surrounded by. Your hands flew to your chest in search of the wound, then down to your stomach, but there was nothing. All that remained was the blood stains and the agonizing memory of your death. 

“Thirteen stab wounds…a bit of an overkill.” 

An unknown voice came from somewhere within the room, frightening you in a way that made you quickly sit up and snap your head around in search of the source. 

“Oh, ritual sacrifice? That's fun. Haven't seen that in a few decades. Gotta say, though, the thirteen is really bugging me. It's so cliche.” 

You could sense someone circling you just within the shadows of the room, making sure to stay deep enough to not be revealed quite yet. 

“Who…where am I?” The trembling of your voice was thick with fear, and even now a fresh set of tears began to well within your eyes. “Am I dead?” 

“You're a smart one, huh? It usually takes people way too long to figure that out.” 

Slowly, a figure emerged from the shadows directly in front of you, though the man now standing there kept his distance. He appeared to be roughly the same age as you, wearing all black with his hands clasped behind him. His face was void of emotion despite the amusement you swore you could hear in his previous statements, but there was a gleam in his dark eyes that you couldn't quite place. 

As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was rather beautiful. 

With a faint nod, you sniffed and finally pulled your gaze from his just so you could take a glance around the room. What you initially thought was a large empty space, was actually an oversized living area of sorts. You could just slightly make out the outline of furniture and art pieces, a new item making itself known with every shift of your eyes. When you looked back to the man, he was closer, his tall form crouching in front of you with a bend of his knees. 

“You seem sad,” he pointed out, his brow furrowing while examining you with only his eyes. 

“Well…I'm dead apparently, so…” 

“No,” he sternly responded almost before you could finish saying the words. “This is different.” 

Long fingers reached out, and at first you flinched away, until he sent an intense stare into your eyes that made you turn your head back to its natural position. A finger pressed beneath your chin to tilt your head up, the man fixating on every possible inch of your face. Then, without a word, he produced a devilish smile. 

“Very interesting.” 

With him taking a firm grasp of your chin, you sharply inhaled and dropped your knees to the side so you could lean in closer to him. He was standing up now, but bent at the waist so he towered above you, your eyes remaining level. “I think I'm going to keep you…at least for a bit.” 

“A bit?” You repeated, your curiosities bringing forth another smile from him. 

“Just a few centuries or so.”

The man’s hold of your face began to soften until his fingertips were just ever so lightly cradling your jaw. He could sense your confusion and hesitancy towards his words, thus leading to his new approach. 

“Let's get you cleaned up.”

× × ×

Moments later you were standing within a lavish bathroom after having walked with awe through…wherever you were. You weren't sure if it was a home, a conjured image, or what, but you were in too much shock still to question it. What you did notice during your walk, was that everything was very gothic. The architecture, the decor, the artwork that hung on the walls - all of it giving off a certain vibe of its own. 

What really tied it all together was the deep color scheme that made you feel as if you fit right in; with the dried blood on your clothes and what not. 

A large claw foot tub sat in the middle of the bathroom with steaming water running from the faucet. He looked at you, then motioned to the tub, making a clear request for you to get in. When you didn't, he arched his brow with a silent question. 

“You're still in here…” you explained, like that wasn't already obvious enough. 

When the realization of what you meant dawned on him, he produced a chuckle, slowly nodding. “Nothing I haven't seen before, I can guarantee.” 

“Since you've never seen me naked before, it actually is.” 

He heavily sighed, but then begrudgingly turned so his back was facing out, his front angled towards the corner. 

“Is this better?” 

You didn't respond. Instead, you stood still for another long moment before finally beginning to strip out of your soiled death clothes. Chills formed over your skin as the cool air encompassed you, this helping guide you faster to the awaiting bathtub so you could seek out the warmth again. 

Only when he heard the water settle, did he turn back around, slow steps approaching the tub. You glanced up to him, arms folded over your chest, legs crossed and pressed together to keep yourself hidden beneath the water. He didn't attempt to look, though, for his sights remained locked on your face. The way he was looking at you was rather odd, but there were many other questions that you wanted answered before the one that had to do with that. 

“So…do you have a name?” 

“Many,” he responded without hesitation. How was he always so quick? 

“Okay, well, what do you want me to call you out of these many names?” 

Taking in a deep breath, he slowly exhaled, using this brief moment to ponder your question. “You can call me Noah.” 

You snorted out a laugh only because the name given was far more normal than you were expecting. “Noah?” You repeated as yet another question for him. 

“It means ‘to rest',” he explained without even a hint of a smile. Something was telling you that he didn't find this taunt of yours to be entertaining in the least bit. 

“Okay, Noah, can I now know where I am?” 

“Do you always ask so many questions?” 

Cue your deep, prolonged sigh.

“I was used as a sacrifice, stabbed in the woods, I died, then I woke up here. Did I freak out even once? No. I think I'm deserving of some answers.” 

Noah didn't dare try to hide the smirk conjured by your feisty demeanor. To be honest, he was impressed, at the very least. He gave a single nod as he crossed the bathroom to retrieve a solid black washcloth from a neatly folded pile of items. Joining you again, he dropped the washcloth into the water, then sat on the edge of the tub down near your feet. 

“The afterlife, Hell, the underworld - whatever you want to call it, that's where this is, though it's really a realm of its own. An entirely different plane from Earth. That's the easiest way to explain it.” 

You had started cleaning your skin with the cloth and soap provided, soon turning the clear water red with your washed away blood. As he spoke, your eyes focused on his face, more specifically the way his jaw moved with every word. It was then that you noticed flashes of color popping up from over the black turtleneck he wore, permanent etchings that accompanied those you had glimpsed on his hands. 

Huh, you never thought of someone like him as being the tattoo type. You know, a being beyond most human comprehension. 

“So…what? You're the Devil?” 

This caused him to laugh, a deep chuckle erupting from his chest which told you that it was a genuine response. 

“Sure, if that's who you need to think of me as. Though I prefer to see myself as being more complex than a red man with a pitchfork and horns surrounded by flames…and much more handsome.” 

Your eyes traveled from his neck and back to his face before settling on the sharp angle of his nose, then his lips. Of course the man who was basically the Devil would be handsome…you should've known that to be true already. The wash cloth still rubbing along your skin slowed at your chest, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you admired him. 

Why weren't you scared? Any logical person would've been, but you were more concerned with viewing more of that enticing tattoo that was teasing you. What was it? How far down did it go? Did he have more? Although the water was hot that you were submerged in, you somehow felt a chill radiate down your spine. When you finally looked back up, Noah was watching you, that previous gleam returning to his eyes. 

“You didn't hear a word I said, did you?” He scolded, before then lifting himself from the edge of the bathtub again. 

You opened your mouth to speak, though nothing sounded like it would be the right answer. Instead of replying, you just closed your mouth and held his gaze. 

“What if I had revealed a secret of the universe to you? All while you were too busy thinking of me naked?” 

“What? I wasn't thinking about that!” You scoffed in defense. 

Noah had shrugged off his jacket as you struggled to find your voice, the long sleeve shirt he wore also being tossed aside next until he was fully bare from the hips up. He didn't linger in front of you for too long; his steps around to the back of the tub only allowing you a quick moment to study the tattoos that were inked across the entirety of his torso and arms. 

“Do you know how I know you were thinking that? Aside from the blush that's risen to your cheeks?” 

You sharply inhaled as you felt his hands on your shoulders, your heartbeat immediately picking up in pace. Again - any logical person would be terrified. 

“Because you told me you were…last time.” 

The tattooed hands on your shoulders tightened their grip, his thumbs rubbing soothing yet firm circles into the base of your neck. You knew he was trying to keep you relaxed as he revealed something that sounded kind of important, but your eyes were closed and you were already lost in the sensations. 

“Last time?” You murmured softly as the task of processing his words took longer than they typically would. 

Noah’s breath fanned across the side of your neck and his hands began a slow journey down to your chest, pausing just before getting to the hardened peaks that were now your nipples. You could feel him smirk against your skin, then he was palming your breasts, pulling forth the faintest of moans from under your breath. 

“Would you believe me if I told you that this is the ninth time we've encountered each other? Thousands and thousands of years, and your face is the only one I've seen more than once.” 

He released the hold he had on your chest, now brushing your hair away from your neck so he could plant need-filled kisses along the elegant arch. The loss of contact caused you to pout, your eyes opening to see that a mirror had appeared on the wall opposite of the tub. It gave you a clear view of him behind you, and the fire burning within his eyes that was becoming more and more familiar. 

“Don't worry, you'll remember. It never takes too long.” 

The words you wanted to say still refused to be voiced, all because Noah was distracting you with his mouth and hands. The latter snaked around to the front of your throat, his fingers securing until he was able to force your head to angle up towards him. His mouth then claimed yours in a heated kiss that clouded all of your senses, refusing to let you touch, taste, or feel anything that wasn't him.

Your upper body twisted to the best of its abilities until you could tangle your fingers into his hair. The kiss was deepened, his tongue pushing past your lips first to begin the fight for dominance over your mouth. There was something familiar about all of this, almost like you knew exactly what to do to receive certain reactions from him. You knew that pulling his hair would make him hiss and rut against you - had you been in the correct position - and something as simple as biting his lip would have him turning you over and pulling you back against him in a matter of seconds.  

But how did you know that? That was the question now plaguing your mind. 

It didn't linger for long, though. It was impossible to let it when Noah’s hand mimicked your own, a handful of your hair now in his grasp so he could force your head back. You whimpered at the painful sensation that vibrated straight down to your core. His opposite hand again began a downwards trek, dropping into the water so he could force your thighs apart. 

“Look at me,” he demanded, his breathing just as labored as your own because of all the built up frustrations you both shared. “Fuck, I've missed those eyes.”

Your knees pressed into either side of the bathtub walls to allow him all the space he would need between your thighs. Skilled fingers traced slowly along the smooth folds that were almost begging for him to give you more. Your breath hitched in your throat and the need you felt for him showed dark within your eyes that he was still locked in on. Dipping in just a bit, his fingertips met with your own natural wetness - which he could easily feel despite being surrounded by water. 

“Maybe your mind doesn't yet remember, but your body does.” Noah smirked, then plunged the entire length of his middle finger into your cunt, just to prove how wet you already were for him. 

Your body tensed and your hips shot forward, rocking up against his hand with a desperate need. He wasted no time with finding that very specific spot inside of you, immediately placing a firm pressure against it to accompany his stroking motion. Your eyes fluttered closed and your lips parted once your jaw fell slack in response to how one mere finger could make you feel. 

“Noah…” you whimpered as your slick walls tightened around him, drawing him in deeper. 

“That's it…you can do it.” He again pulled your hair to bare your neck to him, his teeth sinking into your sensitive flesh before soothing the area with a kiss. A second finger soon joined the first inside of you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you were a goner. 

There was just something about being fingered in a bathtub stained with your own blood that really did it for you. 

Your breathing began to increase, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace that seemed to match the same one Noah kept inside of you. He was still stroking that special spot with a maddening pressure, the ball of his hand rubbing against your sensitive clit, and the mixture of the two sensations had you teetering right on the edge. 

“Just give me one and then I'll allow you what I know you truly want.” His words were whispered at your ear as he pushed his long fingers deeper into your cunt, working you over in ways that only he knew how to. 

You knew what he meant, though, and oh, how badly did you want what he had in store for you next. You could only imagine how hard he was right then, his cock straining against the black pants he wore, begging for some sort of relief. Noah was patient, though. Much more patient than you were. After all, he spent over two hundred years waiting for you to appear again. He could wait another few minutes. 

Noah again slipped his left hand down to your chest where he began to pinch and pull at your nipples, the added stimulation being exactly what you needed. With his fingers making that damned 'come hither’ motion inside of you, your thighs suddenly clamped down around his hand from the intensity of the orgasm that rushed through your body. 

“Oh…Noah! Right there, yes!” You cried out as your pussy fluttered wildly around his fingers, that of which he had yet to cease the motions of. No, he was going to draw it out for as long as he could, really let you ride the high of your first time together again. 

His head turned to press his lips to the nape of your neck, the breaths he let out almost as heavy as your own. “You're so beautiful when you cum for me,” he exclaimed. “I could watch it again and again, which I plan to do.” 

The come down from your orgasm had left your head spinning and foggy. You barely even noticed when you were no longer encased in the water of the bathtub, your body now being tossed upon the most comfortable bed you had ever felt. Opening your eyes, you gazed up at Noah through your post-orgasm haze, admiring him with no shame as he began to unfasten his belt. 

“It's all starting to come back to you, isn't it?” 

The clanking metal sound of his belt sent chills through you, and you had the faintest memory of him using that belt of his for other things that made you scream in pleasure. Noah smirked, well aware of what you were thinking of, but he slowly shook his head. “Next time,” he promised. 

He then leaned forward and grabbed you beneath your knees, forcing your body a little closer before managing to turn you over onto your stomach in a swift motion. You were still very much drunk on all that he was, all that this was, so you allowed him to maneuver you however he pleased. 

Strong hands slowly ran up the sides of your thighs and then gripped tight to your hips. He pulled them up and back, your ass now angled upwards as your upper body remained down on the bed. You smiled, your fingers grasping onto the soft sheets that he had laid you upon. 

“Fuck…” you heard him hiss, the sight of you on display for him causing his cock to twitch. His hands were then on you again, this time massaging into the flesh of your ass cheeks, fingertips occasionally grazing against the wetness between your thighs. You knew he was doing it on purpose just to tease you. 

You huffed in frustration, your body rocking back just a bit as a silent demand for him to give you what you wanted. He chuckled lowly to himself, his hands retreating from your overeager body. 

There was a quick moment where you tried to lift your head to see back at him, but he immediately tutted in disapproval. “Stay down,” he demanded in a tone that was both soft and firm. 

You whined in protest as you dropped your head back down to the bed. Each passing second had you growing more and more impatient, like you were going to literally explode if Noah didn't give into your desires. You wanted him inside of you. You needed to feel the burning stretch as he claimed your body. 

The bed then dipped with his added weight and you finally felt the warmth of his cock gliding between your folds. You heard him take a sharp breath as one hand held your hip, the other guiding himself around all of your sensitive areas. A shudder moved through you when the head grazed along your clit, the sensation immediately causing your eyes to close and your fingers to tighten on the sheets in preparation. 

“You feel like Heaven,” he murmured, the tip of his cock now pressing against your entrance. “So much better than I could ever remember.” 

Finally, he was easing himself inside of you, pushing through your tight walls until his hips pressed flush against your ass. His fingers flexed along your hips and you knew he was trying to control himself - a task that was much easier said than done. The feeling of being so full already had your toes curling and your breath exiting in pants. It was an addictive pleasure, the way your body reacted to him. How your cunt stretched to its limits around his thick cock, a slight pain mixing with your ecstasy, though that only made it so much better. 

Noah’s hips pulled back until only the tip remained nestled inside, just to force every inch back within your depths with a quick thrust forward. He groaned your name, his noises mixing with your own coming from beneath him. He repeated this a couple of times as if he was trying to commit every inch of your cunt to his memory, and the way it felt to have you wrapped so tight around him again. 

Tattooed fingers pushed and pulled your body along his length, his pace quickening. He would thrust forward a bit harder each time he made it as deep as possible, just to give you that extra little  punctuation that he knew had you seeing stars. 

“Fuckfuckfuck!” Your moans echoed through the room, joining the likes of your bodies colliding and his satisfied groans. “Oh my god, Noah. Don't stop…I'm getting so close.” 

There was a sudden shift in his thrusts, each one becoming a bit more rough than the last. His hand traveled down the expanse of your back until he could find your hair within his grasp. Noah forced your head back and then your upper body as well, the rhythmic motions of his hips pausing with him deep inside of you. You smirked despite his now serious demeanor, because you could feel his cock twitch and throb inside of you. If only you could touch your clit, you would've came just from that alone. Something told you that Noah wouldn't allow it, though. Not unless he said for you to. 

“Believe me, God isn't here.” He sternly explained through his heavy breaths before he was pushing your body back down to the bed. His fingers locked around your wrists and trapped them against the mattress, leaving you helpless to his maddening desires. “He has no part in all the sinful things I want to do to you.” 

The pressure of his body weighing down on your own, mixed with the increasingly rough motion of his hips, had your moans erupting one after the other in quick succession. You didn't know how much longer you could keep your orgasm at bay, that task always proving to be difficult when Noah fell victim to his dominant side. It was clear that you had zero qualms with this based off your body’s reaction. 

“Please…” you whimpered, the beg reminiscent of your last moments as a living being. It was so funny to you how things aligned like that. 

Noah lowered himself more until his chest was touching your back, his hips slowing as well. Each thrust remained hard, though he took his time stroking your inner most walls. He wanted you to be able to feel every pulse of his cock, just so you knew the things only you did to him. 

“What was that?” He kissed along the side of your face until his lips were at your ear, this being where he murmured the taunt. “Was there something that you wanted? Go on, tell me.” 

You nodded, your lips folding in as you attempted an act of composure - one you both saw through. There was no such thing when it came to Noah 

“I need to cum, Noah, please!” You impatiently exclaimed while trying to press back into him with every thrust forward he made. The strength behind his hips nearly prevented you from doing so, but you both also knew that deep down he couldn't deny you a single thing you wanted. 

Noah smirked, his broad shoulders lifting away until he was sitting up on his knees behind you again. He was squeezing your hips so tight that you assumed bruises would be there tomorrow - can the undead bruise? That was one thing you didn't remember, but the answer would surely come soon enough. 

A lithe inked hand snaked around until his fingertips were on your swollen clit. Your body jolted from the sudden electrifying sensation that caused you to tense. No sounds came from you now, since the intensity had your breath catching and halting in your chest. Those skilled fingers of his rubbed your clit in perfect time with his thrusts, driving you right to the edge. Occasionally he would pinch at the overly sensitive nerves, only just hard enough to make your thighs tremble and eyes roll back. 

“Then cum.”

Those two words were uttered as a demand; he allowed you exactly what you wanted while making sure you remembered who was in control. How could you ever forget? 

Waves of pleasure began to crash within every inch of your tense body. Your cunt collapsed around his cock and soon you were erupting, each nerve in your being firing off all at once. It was the most amazing thing you had ever felt, being able to cum around him as he also gave into his own climax. 

Noah's hips jerked out of rhythm before stilling inside of you, thick ropes of his cum coating the aching walls of your pussy which he had just thoroughly claimed. Not that there was ever any question of its ownership. All of the moans and other sounds of strained delight that left him was your favorite song - nothing but music to your ears that you were eager to press 'play’ on again and again. 

As he came down from his high, the dominant side slowly began to drift away, though only for the time being. It could easily be back with a snap of your fingers. His body enclosed around yours again since he knew you enjoyed the weight of him, greedy lips pressing light kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck. 

“Say it.”

You smiled through the heavy breaths that remained, which were accompanied by slight twitches in your hips from the after effects of your Earth shattering orgasm. 

“Say what?” The tone you used gave away that you knew exactly what he wanted from you. 

“Don't make me beg.” 

“Hmm…” you softly hummed in feign thought, briefly getting lost in the way his fingertips grazed your sides. “Did I say it last time?” 

The answer was something you were already aware of: you did. You just couldn't pass up the chance to tease and mock him. 

“You say it every time.”

Shifting beneath him, your upper body turned enough so that you were able to look up into his dark eyes. There were still a lot of things that you couldn't yet recall, but old memories were making themselves known with each second that passed. Soon, you would know everything, just as he did. 

“I love you,” you murmured in a near whisper. That same gleam you had witnessed in his eyes several times that day returned, making you begin to believe that he hadn't possessed it for the entire duration you were separated from him this time. 

“Maybe the ninth death will be the charm.” 

× × ×

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Ten

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

Word Count; 21.9k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Happy autumn, everyone! I hope you enjoy this latest update. There's a little spookiness ('tis the season!) fluff, and maybe a tiny bit of angst. As per usual, I love to hear from my lovely readers, and I hope you enjoy this update!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Y/N froze, letting the ghostly voice wash over long enough for the strike of terror to rock through her, before gritting her teeth and straightening up. Spinning on her heel, she wanted to get a good look at the thing that refused to leave her alone, but as her eyes scanned the secluded corner of the yard, she saw nothing but a small sparrow swooping from branch to branch. 

“If I dare to what?” Y/N ground out, fed up. There was no answer to her retort, and she knew it wasn’t a very good idea to antagonize a spirit, but she couldn’t help herself. 

Huffing, she knelt back down and promptly buried the spell jar, packing the earth on top of it tightly. She was not going to be intimidated by a spirit that wouldn’t even show its face, threatening her in her own backyard. Part of her wondered if she should call for Namjoon; just in case the spirit kept trying to interfere with the ritual. She gripped the bundle of rosemary harshly at the thought of the spirit moving on from threatening her to the wolf hybrid or Jeongguk at the front of the property. 

Spurred on by the thought, Y/N continued to the other corner of the backyard, surprisingly staying calm and centered as she carried out her part of the ritual. Repeating the prayer continuously, she kept her mind on her hybrids, and how important it was to her to protect and keep them safe. Finally reaching the second corner she was responsible for, surrounded by wild shrubs and what appeared to be a fox’s den, Y/N swiftly buried her final spell jar without interruption from the spirit she was attempting to kick out of her life. 

The air felt electrified, but not in the menacing way Y/N was expecting. To her distant delight, she could sense the wards going up successfully, and the familiar sensation of being surrounded by magic embraced her like a hug from a long-lost friend. Namjoon and Jeongguk must have been holding their own, as well, because there were two faint energies mingling with her own in the borders of the wards. As Namjoon predicted, the three of them ended up being stronger together.

Y/N trailed along the final side of the area she was protecting, before cutting through the center of the yard to the rock where she’d set up the pillar candle. Predictably, Namjoon and Jeongguk were already lingering there. Namjoon had pulled off his cardigan; the sleeves of it tied around his hips, and a thin sheen of sweat covering the golden skin of his arms on display as he crossed them over his chest. Gnawing on her lip, Y/N approached more closely, raising an eyebrow at Jeongguk’s smug expression as he pulled up his baggy black cargo pants. 

“How’d it go?” Y/N began, stubbing out the rosemary bundle on the flat rock beside the candle, brushing ash off of her palms onto the material of her leggings. 

“Fine. The thing was pissed though, I heard it cursing in my ear the entire time,” Jeongguk replied offhand, surprising Y/N by pulling out his new journal and scribbling some notes into it while he spoke. 

“You could hear it?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows, hands coming up to rub his bare shoulders like they were sore. 

“Yeah, I could hear it. I could hear it when this one first brought me to this house,” Jeongguk jutted his pen in Y/N’s direction when he said this one, sucking his lip ring into his mouth as he resumed writing. “I think this’ll do it for now. It might be worth doing the banishment at the end of the month, though, for extra insurance– since it’s so pissed at the three of us.” 

“I heard it once, too,” Y/N sighed, thinking that Jeongguk was likely right– a banishment would ensure that the spirit would be removed from the property for good. “Before I buried my first jar, it threatened me.”

“What?” Namjoon seethed, reaching out to grab one of Y/N’s wrists. “Why didn’t you call for me? It threatened you?”

Surprised by the wolf hybrid’s reaction, his ears turned backwards against his skull and his teeth slightly bared, Y/N’s mouth dropped open, staring at the way Namjoon’s large hand encircled her wrist, his fingers overlapping on themselves bruisingly.

“Ouch, Joon,” Y/N chuckled, placing her free hand over his and patting the back of it for mercy from his tightened grip. He loosened up, his eyes flashing apologetically. “I thought about calling you, but I worried that it might start harassing you, too. I think we all handled it pretty well though, can’t you tell? The wards went up more quickly than I expected them to.” 

Clearing his throat, Jeongguk stuck his pen behind his ear, casting a brief glance at Namjoon’s hand clasped around her wrist before nodding, a piece of his chestnut hair falling into his eyes. 

“Honestly, I wasn’t so sure about the ritual when we started it. I thought that maybe it would be too simple, but it appeared to do the trick. Still, we should plan on the banishment later on. It won’t hurt,” Jeongguk crouched down, licking his thumb and forefinger before snuffing out the flame of the pillar candle. 

Though Y/N hadn’t instructed him to do that, he did it properly; without blowing it out and therefore “blowing away the spirits” that helped them with the ward construction. Feeling Namjoon release her wrist slowly, Y/N watched his steely guard go back up again, the picture of calculated and collected. 

“Thanks, you two, for helping me out. You did a really amazing job, I don’t think the wards would be as strong without your help,” Y/N began to pack away leftover ritual items back into her basket, taking a lungful of air and rejoicing in the lightness of its quality. 

Her back was turned to the two hybrids, but she was met with no reply from either of them. Further back in the yard, Y/N could hear Hoseok loudly complaining about the increasing humidity. Grinning to herself, she began to contemplate what to do for the rest of the day– perhaps hang out with Taehyung for a bit, or maybe offer her help with the chicken coop restoration. 

“I’m gonna head in now,” Y/N slung the basket of ritual items into the crook of her elbow, leveling a smile at Namjoon and Jeongguk, who were watching her carefully. “We can talk about the banishment in the future. The new moon is still a little ways away.”

Feeling a little sticky from the humidity and her romp around the yard, Y/N decided to take a nice, cool shower when she got back into the house, and maybe see what Yoongi was up to. Namjoon followed her inside, but Jeongguk remained outside, continuing to write in his journal on the picnic table with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. 

“I still wish you would have called for me after what happened,” Namjoon suddenly announced, stopping Y/N in the kitchen with his arms crossed. He looked ticked, his lips pursed and cheeks sucked in, and Y/N felt her mouth dry up at the sight of him. 

“Honestly, Namjoon, I was too aggravated that the thing was threatening me to call out for you,” Y/N scratched the back of her head, wishing that Yoongi was still in the kitchen to break up the tension. 

The wolf hybrid gave her an achingly slow once-over, scanning her face all the way down to her toes, Y/N’s cheeks heating up with the attention. She felt like she had to apologize to him, or beg for forgiveness, with the authority dripping off of him. Swallowing thickly, Y/N gave him a pat on his strong forearm, his eyes finding hers after studying her hand on his arm. 

“Next time, I’ll call for you. I promise,” Y/N said seriously, not wanting Namjoon to be upset with her. Still appearing a touch disappointed, Namjoon’s shoulders relaxed a degree, and Y/N didn’t know whether or not he believed her. 

“Hopefully there won’t be a next time,” the wolf hybrid pointed out, helping himself to a glass of iced tea from the fridge and turning his back on her. 

Y/N tried her best not to gawk at his bare shoulders. Namjoon was pretty built; and though Hoseok was the one with a keen interest in exercise, Y/N wondered if the wolf hybrid had also made use of the gym in the basement. Clearing her throat, she tore her eyes from Namjoon’s broad back, feeling like a bit of a creep. 

“Yeah, hopefully,” Y/N echoed distractedly, heat still pooling in her cheeks as Namjoon looked over his shoulder to stare at her quizzically. “I’m going to take a shower, so I’ll see you in a bit? Remember, we’re going to the brewery tonight!”

Namjoon hummed, the deep timbre of his voice sending goosebumps over Y/N’s skin, and she made a beeline to her bedroom to escape the wolf hybrid’s attention. Pressing a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart, she cursed herself for telling Namjoon to wear black– that tank top was lethal. 

She searched through her closet for something to wear later that night, settling on a flowy pastel blue miniskirt and a lacy white cropped tank, placing it on her bed and tossing her denim jacket beside the outfit. Y/N knew if Alice came along to the brewery with them that night, she’d be dressed to the nines, and there was nothing she loved more than dressing up to go out with her friends. As the water in her shower heated up, she gave Alice a call, sorting through her scant collection of lipgloss for a selection that would go well with her outfit. 

“Hey babe, how’s it going over there?” Alice picked up on the second ring, her raspy voice filling Y/N with warmth. 

“It’s been great, I think they’re all really starting to adjust,” Y/N replied, peering out into the backyard for a glimpse of any of the hybrids. All she could see was Jeongguk, who was still at the picnic table and writing in his journal. “I’ve signed a few of them up for some clubs at the rec center in town, so that’ll be good now that I’m working at Judy’s.”

“Yeah? How’s my little fox hybrid? I miss him already,” Alice asked coyly, Y/N imagining her biting her lip and batting her lashes. 

“Hoseok’s well. He wanted to join the rec center’s track team, so that’s what he’ll be up to soon,” Y/N responded, that tiny itch of jealousy from the cookout returning. “Hey, are you busy tonight?”

“Depends,” Alice drew out the syllables to the words, a teasing tone coloring her speech. “You know I’m always free for you, peanut.”

“Aww, Al,” Y/N giggled. “Miss Alice Santos, Boston’s prettiest and most successful poet, clearing her schedule for little old me?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Alice groaned, the sound of her pouring dry cat food into Heathcliff’s bowl coming through the receiver. “Get to the point, what do you want to do? Want me to come over, we can make those boys watch Pride and Prejudice and drink White Claws?”

“Honestly, that sounds like a pretty solid Saturday night,” Y/N admitted, shedding her clothes and tossing them in the hamper as she balanced her phone between her cheek and her shoulder. “But no. You know that brewery we’ve been meaning to check out? Salem’s? Want to meet there tonight and grab some dinner and a beer flight?”

“Yeah, you had me at ‘brewery’, babe,” Alice answered, bringing a smile to Y/N’s face. “I’m assuming you’re bringing the boys? Want to meet at seven?” 

“That works! Yeah, they’ll be tagging along. We don’t have much food in the house, Yoongi and I have to hit the grocery store tomorrow.”

“Oh, the sexy one with the long hair? The grill master at the cookout?” Alice teased, making Y/N squeak and flush. Hopefully Yoongi was napping in his room and couldn’t hear the first half of Alice’s statement. 

“Al! Keep it together,” Y/N managed amidst a cocktail of mortification and amusement. “See you tonight, okay?”

“You bet. Gotta pick out something cute to wear, if I’m going to see you and my little fox hybrid,” Alice sang, Y/N rolling her eyes at herself in her bathroom mirror. That was, before she realized she had done the exact same thing with her own outfit. 

Hanging up, Y/N hurried into the shower, rinsing the rosemary smoke off of her skin and wondering how the hell she’d find a taxi to transport eight people to and from the house. A problem for later, she supposed. 

“So Tae, are you excited about the photography club on Wednesday? I heard they just re-did the darkroom,” Y/N was in the middle of rolling chocolate chip cookie dough in sesame seeds, plopping them on a baking sheet. She had time to kill until they met Alice and a pound of butter sitting in the fridge, so why the hell not. 

Taehyung was sitting on a barstool across from where she worked on the island, and to her delight, was discussing some of the records he was listening to that morning with her freely. It was the most conversation she had with the Kodiak hybrid in days, and she was able to keep all of her attention on him considering the rest of the hybrids were either still outside or in their own rooms. 

“Yeah, I am. I don’t know, I wanted to try something new– I’ve never taken photos before with a real camera,” Taehyung answered truthfully, his voice a low drawl as he rested his chin on his forearms, hunched over the island. 

“Oh, your camera should be here by Monday! You can take a few test shots before the club on Wednesday,” Y/N sprinkled a little sea salt on top of the cookies before placing the trays in the oven, dusting stray sesame seeds on the counter into the sink. “Photography is really cool. An underrated art form. I think you’ll enjoy yourself, Tae.”

Taehyung gave her a closed mouth smile, his dark curls wild and a bit matted down from where he was wearing headphones earlier. She was relieved that Taehyung seemed to be opening himself back up to her since The Incident, hoping that perhaps he could make a friend or two once he joined the photography club. 

“I think there might be a box with a vintage camera or two under the basement stairs. My grandfather used to be pretty fond of taking a million pictures of the entire family,” Y/N theorized while wiping down the counters, praying she didn’t get flour or butter on her skirt or top. “You could definitely use those for a project in the future! Experiment with different lenses and whatnot.”

“Really? Do you think they’d let me use an old camera if I wanted?” Taehyung perked up, his small ears fluttering with excitement at the thought. A light blush covered his cheeks, and Y/N couldn’t recall a time where Taehyung seemed so enthused. 

“Yeah, why not? The club is for learning, fun, and expressing yourself creatively… I’m sure they’d let you try out different cameras and methods for developing photos.”

Taehyung squirmed in his seat, pushing up the sleeves of his multi-colored sweater and grinning at Y/N, with his teeth this time. It was a struggle for Y/N to not fall over seeing his toothy smile for the first time in so many days, and it was even more difficult to not race around the island and pull him in for a hug. 

“What smells so good?” Came Yoongi’s gravelly voice as he strolled into the kitchen from the foyer. 

“I’m making those chocolate chip cookies from Pinterest I showed you a couple days ago,” Y/N began washing the mixing bowl she had used, cautious of getting any water on her outfit. She heard Yoongi purring, and kept one eye on Taehyung, who remained on his barstool and was watching Yoongi peer into the oven.

“The brown butter sesame ones?” Yoongi’s voice was now closer to her, Y/N glancing over her shoulder to locate him. 

He looked really nice– in an emerald colored sweater that picked up the green in his eyes, and a pair of black jeans. The leopard hybrid had the audacity to smirk at her, definitely able to tell that she was giving him a once-over. 

“Mm-hm,” Y/N hummed, determined to not let Yoongi tease her. “I have time to kill before we go out later, and Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin wouldn’t let me help with repairing the coop.”

“Oh yeah?” Yoongi leaned his hip against the counter, the weight of his gaze heavy as Y/N clocked him giving her a similar once-over. To be fair, she did look pretty great, but the scrutiny made butterflies bat around in her stomach. “Why’s that?”

“They’re cutting chicken wire and taking down old splintering wood, and they didn’t want me to ‘get a splinter or get a cut’,” Y/N informed the leopard hybrid, using her fingers to make air quotes. 

She thought the three hybrids outside were babying her, even with her clumsy track record, she had restored half of the old Victorian house by herself. That had to count for something– she hadn’t even injured herself once, even when she had to use a sledgehammer to knock down old cabinets in the kitchen last spring.

Shaking her head, Y/N heard Yoongi chuckling; the sound gritty and slightly rumbled. Alongside that, Taehyung was humming along to the pop song playing from her portable speaker sitting on the coffee bar, apparently not minding that Yoongi had joined them. A slight step forward, in Y/N’s book. 

“Hey, Y/N…” Yoongi recovered from his amusement, surprisingly sliding onto a barstool next to Taehyung. She had to grind her teeth together to prevent her jaw from falling open. “I noticed when we were putting extra food into the garage freezer that there’s an old basketball hoop and stand in there. Can I drag it out to the driveway for practice?”

“Absolutely! You might need some help because it’s really heavy with the sand still in the stand’s base, maybe ask Jeongguk? He’s been outside all afternoon, and he’s in a good mood today,” Y/N finished wiping down the counters, the timer on her phone going off simultaneously telling her to pull the cookies from the oven. 

Yoongi grimaced at the mention of the elk hybrid’s name, interlacing his elegant fingers together and leaning forward on the granite island, shooting Y/N a somewhat incredulous look. She raised her eyebrows back at him, as if to challenge him to vocalize whatever smartass retort he most definitely had swirling around in his head, before turning away and taking the cookie sheets out of the oven, the chocolate chunks still molten and bubbling. 

“Nah, I think I can handle it myself,” Yoongi settled on, ears perking up as footsteps padded into the kitchen from the foyer, heavy tread and slight clumsiness– Y/N pretty much knew exactly who it was without even having to look up. 

“If you say so, angel,” Y/N replied, glancing upwards and eyeing Namjoon, who entered the kitchen freshly showered and dressed in his normal earth tones, mercifully. “Hey, Joon!”

Namjoon grunted, staring at the trays of cookies Y/N had just set on the stovetop, his tail wagging behind him so quickly Y/N could feel it occasionally bat the backs of her legs. Y/N watched in horror as the wolf hybrid reached for a scalding-hot cookie, and out of reflex, she lightly swatted the back of his hand away, squeaking. 

“I just took these out, you’ll burn yourself! Go sit next to Yoongi and let them cool for a few minutes,” Y/N scolded, pointing across the kitchen and registering Namjoon’s shocked expression. 

There was a brief moment of an intense stare-down between them, Namjoon’s teeth slightly bared, before he heeded her directions and trudged over to the empty barstool beside the leopard hybrid. Expelling the breath she was holding, Y/N began transferring the cookies onto a wire rack, muttering to herself. 

“What time are we leaving tonight?” Taehyung asked, Y/N surprised that he had remained in the room with Namjoon’s arrival. 

“Uh, I think around 6:45? The brewery isn’t too far from here, and Alice is meeting us there at 7,” Y/N licked a little melted chocolate off of her thumb as she spoke, humming at the sweetness. “I think we’re going to have to take two cabs. We can’t all pile into one…”

She grabbed a few plates from the cupboard, gnawing on her lip. The idea of splitting up into two groups to get to the brewery didn’t thrill her, and by the silence that filled the kitchen at her words, it didn’t seem to thrill the hybrids either. 

Y/N had an idea of who would be okay with getting in a cab without her, and who would definitely not be. Honestly, she was just hoping the outing would go well, and they wouldn’t have to deal with judgmental people– much like the asshole from Best Buy. Mulling over fantasies of punching the Best Buy man’s teeth in, Y/N placed a couple of the still-warm cookies each on the plates she set out, before absently placing the plates in front of the three hybrids seated at the island. 

“What are you thinking about? You smell pissed,” Yoongi sat back in his seat, ignoring the cookie she put in front of him. 

Taehyung bit his lip, nodding along with Yoongi’s accusation, Y/N forgetting that they could catch the scent of her subtle shifts in mood. Namjoon simply stared at her, chewing on his cookie with a bit of chocolate smudged over his bottom lip. 

“Oh, nothing. Just recalling some jerks I’ve dealt with in the past week out in public, and praying that I won’t encounter any more tonight,” Y/N answered as truthfully as she could, knowing that if she told a bold-faced lie, they’d all be able to tell. Her response was as vague as it was honest, and Yoongi seemed to relax a bit, so she considered it a win. 

“I told you, just ignore them. Not worth your time or consideration,” Yoongi tucked hair behind his ear, taking a delicate bite of his cookie. “These are really good…”

“I’ll make some more after we do our weekly grocery run. I ran out of chocolate chunks,” Y/N smiled, watching Taehyung tear off pieces of the dessert to toss into his mouth. “I gotta go out back and let everyone else know when we’re leaving later, okay? Try to save some of those for the others, Joon,” Y/N chuckled out her last statement, clocking the wolf hybrid stacking another cookie onto his plate by the stove. 

Tail between his legs, the tips of Namjoon’s ears were reddened, a rumbling sound coming from the back of his throat. Taehyung actually snickered, which had Y/N doing a double-take at his shaking shoulders, her and Yoongi exchanging looks of confusion. Apparently ignoring the Kodiak hybrid’s amusement, Namjoon sat back down on his barstool beside Yoongi, diving into his second cookie silently. Y/N was quite proud of both Taehyung and Namjoon; the former was opening back up and spending more time around the other hybrids, and the latter was managing to keep his cool and ignore happenings that would typically provoke him. Once again trusting that Yoongi could keep the peace, Y/N exited the kitchen through the slider into the backyard to seek out her other four hybrids. 

“That’s a lot of hybrids,” one of the cabbies, a short, middle-aged man, remarked, his eyebrows raised as he watched Jimin and Hoseok file out of the front door. “Now I get why youse called for two of us.”

Y/N pressed her lips together, choosing to bite her tongue as she realized the tone of judgment was missing from the cabbie’s voice. The other cabbie was on his phone, and from the sounds of it, was in the middle of a fight with his wife. 

“I can only fit three of youse,” the cabbie not currently yelling into his cell phone jabbed his thumb towards his Toyota Prius, Y/N grimacing at his thick Boston accent. 

Y/N turned on her heel to face the hybrids, all of which had finally made their ways out into the front yard. Namjoon was busy locking up the front door with the key he must have grabbed off the hook on his way out. 

“Alright, who’s okay riding without me?” Y/N decided to just cut to the chase, keeping in mind the time. They were already running a bit late; Jeongguk and Hoseok took more time than she’d planned on to get ready. Granted, they both looked fantastic, but she didn’t want to keep Alice waiting too long. 

Crickets. 

“Um…” Y/N started to grow uncomfortable with seven pairs of eyes on her at once, each with varying amounts of skepticism painted across their faces. “On the way back, we’ll rotate? I’ll ride with whoever I didn’t on the way there?”

“I think I can manage fifteen minutes without you,” Jeongguk drawled sarcastically, immediately strolling past her and getting into the passenger’s seat of the Prius. He had to duck quite a bit to prevent knocking his antlers against the door frame, which made her snort. 

“Come on, Jiminie. Let’s ride together, I want to fuck with the elk a little bit after that comment,” Hoseok grabbed Jimin by the arm, pulling him into the backseat while the poor coyote hybrid barked out complaints. 

“Okay, that’s sorted out. Let’s get going,” Y/N blew hair out of her face, once again grateful that Hoseok was so clever and definitely caught onto the fact that she was getting antsy to leave. 

Seokjin and Taehyung took the third row of seats in the minivan, while Yoongi and Namjoon made up the second– the wolf hybrid directly behind Y/N, where she was occupying the passenger’s seat. Y/N cringed at the cabbie’s loud cursing into his phone, feeling badly for the hybrids and their sensitive ears being subjected to all the noise pollution. 

“Ey! Hey– Jan. Will you stop piercing my ears for five fucking seconds?” The cabbie hollered, lowering his phone to his shoulder as he glanced at Y/N. “Salem’s? Is that where you’re all going?” 

“Yes, sir,” Y/N crossed her legs, praying for his wife on the other line. He was certainly a treat. 

After fifteen excruciating minutes of listening to the cabbie argue about his sports betting “hobby” with his wife, Y/N anxiously making sure the Prius with her other three hybrids in it was in front of them the entire time, all eight of them arrived at Salem’s Brewery without too much difficulty. Y/N noticed Seokjin massaging one of his silky black ears as he exited the minivan, a pout on his lips– all that yelling must have irritated the jaguar hybrid, who Y/N could hardly remember a time would speak at an even slightly raised volume. 

“See? I made it here alive,” Jeongguk greeted Y/N by the door to the brewery, which looked like an old tavern in a medieval town. The elk hybrid smirked around his cigarette, tucking his white tee shirt into his baggy black jeans. The waning, orange sunlight glittered off of the necklace her mother had given him. 

“Smartass,” Y/N teased, counting heads to make sure everyone was accounted for. To their luck, Alice didn’t appear to be there yet herself, as she had told Y/N to meet her at the front of the building so they could go in together. “Take it easy with those, Jeongguk. Cigarette smoke taints your palate.”

“We’re at a brewery, Y/N, not a Michelin restaurant,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, but heeding her warning by ashing out the cigarette in the outdoor tray. 

“Stop being such a dick,” Yoongi interrupted, his nose wrinkled up in disgust as Jeongguk blew his last drag of smoke directly into the leopard hybrid’s face. Unfortunately, Y/N was also on the receiving end of the blast, too. “Disgusting. Get yourself some menthols next time, or one of those vapes teenagers use.”

“A vape? What am I, a clown?” Jeongguk crossed his arms over his chest, Y/N’s eyes dropping to his tattooed forearms. Two tattoos on the backs of them appeared to be half of an image, like if he put his forearms together, they’d make a complete symbol. 

“You said it,” Yoongi retorted, his ears perking up when a car alarm began going off in the parking lot. 

“Stop bickering, I don’t want Alice to join in when she gets here. Her comebacks can be brutal,” Y/N scanned the parking lot for Alice’s beat-up Mini Cooper, spotting it barreling in from the street, her best friend pulling into a spot towards the front with screeching tires. 

“Damn, thought she was gonna drive into the side of the building,” Hoseok exclaimed from his spot on a bench several feet from where her, Jeongguk, and Yoongi were standing. 

The fox hybrid’s tail was swishing back and forth rapidly, a wide smile on his face when Alice emerged from her car, slinging her purse over her trim shoulder and spotting him with an enthusiastic wave. Y/N felt her eye twitch, and desperately pushed aside her jealousy before any of the hybrids could smell it on her, heavens forbid they could actually identify that particular emotion. 

Y/N broke apart from her hybrids to meet Alice halfway, pulling her in for a tight hug. As expected, she looked gorgeous– a cranberry colored slip dress, matching lip gloss, and an oversized leather jacket made her look like she stepped out of a magazine. Her perfume, the one she had worn since high school, filled Y/N’s senses and brought her immediate comfort.

“Look at you! I haven’t seen you in a skirt since grad school,” Alice breathed, hands on Y/N’s biceps as she stepped back to check out her outfit. “You look amazing!”

“So do you, as always,” Y/N blushed, adjusting the askew collar of Alice’s jacket. “I wore a sundress to the cookout, remember?”

“Vaguely. I was hammered towards the end of that night,” Alice smirked, tucking hair behind Y/N’s ear before craning her neck over Y/N’s shoulder to glance at the hybrids hanging back by the brewery’s entrance. “Boys! Shall we?”

Alice marched straight to Hoseok, who had gotten up from the bench to open the brewery’s door for her, a grin stretched across her face. Y/N followed behind, watching the two of them closely. 

“Hey you,” Alice addressed Hoseok as she strolled into the building, the fox hybrid joining her as soon as Y/N cleared the threshold of the door, Hoseok not bothering to hold the door for the other hybrids. “How’ve you been?”

Y/N was temporarily distracted from the interaction between her best friend and her fox hybrid, taking in the interior of the brewery. Much like the outside of the building, the decor and vibe was very much medieval tavern; the thick scent of greasy french fries and hoppy beer filled the air, the space was dimly lit up by wall sconces and iron chandeliers, and full of lively people enjoying their beer flights on a Saturday evening. It was a decidedly witchy establishment, with a slight nautical twist– it made her think about Moby Dick, and oddly enough, Hocus Pocus. Sort of an odd combination as far as themes, but somehow, it worked for the town it was in. 

“Table for…” the hostess, a teenage girl with green hair, disinterestedly surveying the group of people and hybrids in front of her, drawled. “Nine? I think we have one long table left in the back. Follow me.”

Y/N tried not to notice all of the eyes and rubbernecking going on as they followed the young girl towards the back windows of the brewery, overlooking the distant sea and sleepy town, but even she had to admit it was a sight to behold: seven male hybrids with two human women. Not something one saw every day, even in the age they lived in. The hybrids didn’t seem to mind, most of them were pretty preoccupied pointing out the occasional other hybrid in the room– there was a golden retriever hybrid at the bar with her family, and a calico cat hybrid sitting in a booth with his. 

Taking their seats was another ordeal. Taehyung sat on the end of the table, beside her, and Seokjin took up her other side, but she could tell Yoongi was a bit perturbed that the jaguar hybrid had beaten him to her remaining free side. Alice took up the chair across from Y/N so they could chat more easily, with Hoseok on her left and Jimin on her right. The remaining three hybrids who got to the table last found their spots begrudgingly, and menus were handed out promptly before the hostess slouched away. 

“We’re all getting flights, right? God, I might have to leave my car here overnight and Uber back,” Alice scanned the menu with her lower lip sucked into her mouth, eyes widening at the extensive beer list. “I want to try all of these. ‘Mermaid’s Lager’ and ‘Half-Moon Ale’... Y/N, these names have you written all over it!”

“Mmm… you’re right,” Y/N chuckled, though she was much more preoccupied with checking out the appetizer section of the menu.

“Alice, you should pick out eight if you want to try a wider selection. You can share my flight, I don’t know too much about beer, anyways. That way I don’t have to choose blindly,” Hoseok encouraged, leaning back in his seat and sending a lovely, pointed-tooth smile to Alice. 

“Ugh, you’re perfect, seriously?” Alice’s eyebrows shot into her hairline, nudging Hoseok with her shoulder. “Okay, okay, I have to make my choices…”

Y/N hid her grin behind her menu. While she was a little jealous of Hoseok’s attention on Alice, it was sweet to see Hoseok being so kind to her best friend. Next to her, Seokjin was practically bouncing in his seat, flipping the menu over frantically, his eyes rapidly roaming over each menu item with rapt interest. 

“Y/N, what’s a quahog? What are you getting to eat? Should we share the soft pretzels and beer cheese?” Seokjin rapid-fired in her ear, his fiery eyes round with excitement. From across the table, Alice paused, focusing on Seokjin as he continued asking questions. 

“A quahog is a type of clam. I’m not sure what I’m getting yet as my entree, but I’ll share the pretzels with you! Get anything you like, honey, I heard the food is really good,” Y/N replied, reaching up to ruffle the wavy hair on the back of his head. 

“I didn’t really get a chance to talk to you at the cookout! You’re Seokjin, right? I’ll get the quahog appetizer if you want to try it,” Alice smiled at Seokjin, who blushed at her offer. “Wow. I’m sure you get this all the time, but you’re really handsome.”

Hoseok began hooting with laughter, while Seokjin was spluttering, his face beet red. Y/N could feel his tail winding around the small of her back with the attention he was receiving from everyone, but Y/N had no business in scolding Alice for embarrassing him. She was, after all, completely correct. 

“Aw, Jinnie! Don’t be shy,” Hoseok cooed through laughter, Seokjin hiding behind his menu and curling his tail more tightly around Y/N’s waist. “It’s true!”

“Good evening, folks, I’m Joshua and I’ll be taking care of you tonight,” the waiter arrived at the head of the table, beside where Namjoon was seated. Swiftly, Alice and Y/N exchanged a meaningful split-second glance at each other– Joshua was hot. “Can I start you off with drinks? Are we doing flights tonight? They’re half off on Saturdays.”

Alice, of course, was quick to order both her and Hoseok’s flights, and Joshua made a slow circle around the table to jot down everyone’s drink order. By the time Joshua got to Y/N, she was fidgeting in her seat, struggling to maintain eye contact with the handsome waiter as she rattled off her flight choices. He had really pretty blue eyes, and looked quite a bit like a young Lindsey Buckingham. 

“Alright, I’ll get those in for you,” Joshua finished taking Taehyung’s order, which was just a pint of lager rather than a flight, and gave them all a pleasant, sparkly smile. “Also, I really recommend the soft pretzels. They’re my favorite and go well with some of the Sour IPAs.”

“Yeah, we are definitely getting those pretzels now,” Alice said dreamily as Joshua headed off towards the bar, Y/N reflexively kicking her in the shin under the table. Unfortunately for Y/N, her aim was off, and she ended up kicking Jimin– who hissed in surprise, eyes widening with alarm. 

“Sorry, sweetheart! I was trying to cross my legs,” Y/N yelped, furious with herself. Jimin relaxed at once, waving his hand at her as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’. 

“So! Y/N’s told me that some of you guys are signing up for stuff at the rec center. What are you signing up for?” Alice hung her jacket on the back of her chair, the straps of her dress slightly falling down her shoulders with the movement. 

“I’m trying out for the track team,” Hoseok leaned forward on his forearms, head tilted as he replied. 

“Oh, you like to run? My sister Laura used to be on the track team in high school,” Alice recalled, though slight displeasure washed over her face. She wasn’t particularly a fan of exercise. 

“Yeah, I like running, it clears my head,” Hoseok’s ears perked up when someone dropped their fork a table over, Seokjin flinching slightly beside Y/N and into her shoulder. 

“Yoongi’s trying out for the basketball team, and Tae’s going to join the photography club,” Y/N added, snagging both Alice and Yoongi’s attention, the leopard hybrid smirking at the sound of his name being called. “My mom still runs the book club at the library, so Seokjin and Namjoon have been going to those meetings.”

“What’s this week’s book?” Alice asked a still-flustered Seokjin, who couldn’t meet her eyes. 

“The Stranger, Albert Camus,” Namjoon responded for Seokjin, rolling up the sleeves of his white button down. 

“Hmm. Haven’t read that one. Philosophical novels aren’t usually my jam,” Alice tapped on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Photography and basketball… sounds really fun! What about you, Jimin? Jeongguk too, are you signing up for something?” 

“No, Miss, I’m repairing the stable in the backyard for the time being. Perhaps I’ll join a club in the spring, though,” Jimin answered politely, Alice blinking rapidly when he addressed her as ‘Miss”. 

“I’m all set with that shit, personally,” Jeongguk piped up from his end of the table, sounding bored. Alice opened her mouth to say something in response, but was interrupted by Joshua and three other waiters dropping by to hand out the drinks. 

The beer came in rounded, smaller glasses than Y/N was used to, but she supposed it was for the best– four whole pints of beer would have her seeing double. Joshua took their food orders, which was a lengthy ordeal, and Y/N felt her cheeks heat up when Joshua gave her a sweet smile when she relayed her order. 

“Y/N, how’s that shandy one? I almost ordered it, but I knew that you would,” Alice nodded at the glass Y/N was holding, which she immediately handed over to her best friend to try. “Oooh. Really nice. Here, try this Sour IPA…”

Y/N spent several lovely minutes trying at least seven different beers; Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok and Alice, of course, offered her sips of their selections. The hybrids chatted amongst themselves about their upcoming activities the next week, while Alice and Y/N got the opportunity to catch up. Alice informed her about her rough outline for her new poetry book, which had Y/N clinking her glass with her. Alice was glowing, and Y/N could tell how excited she was about working on a new project. 

While Hoseok began to ask Alice questions about her writing, Y/N took a look around the restaurant while sipping on her beer, her eyes landing on Joshua, who was leaning on the bar from across the room– and staring directly at her. Swallowing thickly, Y/N tore her eyes away from him, turning to talk to Taehyung, who was characteristically quiet. 

However, Taehyung wasn’t paying attention to her; he, too, was scanning the room, and his eyes were narrowed as he caught sight of Joshua. Taehyung must have realized Joshua was staring at her, and he bared his teeth slightly as he watched the waiter move behind the bar to make a cocktail. Without looking at her, Taehyung set down his beer and confidently slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, still glaring across the room. Squeaking at the contact, Y/N felt Taehyung rest his elbow on the back of her chair, his fingertips toying with the ends of her hair mindlessly. Gawking at the Kodiak hybrid, she wondered if he was doing all of that because of protective, territorial instinct, or if he was jealous. The thought had her heart pounding in her chest loudly. 

The scent of sandalwood filled her senses as Taehyung wrapped his arm around her, Y/N forgetting about everyone else around her. She hardly noticed Alice and Hoseok giggling at each other, waiters approaching to drop off the appetizers, and Seokjin placing a soft pretzel on the plate in front of her. The spell was broken when Taehyung withdrew his touch to grab a nacho from the plate in front of Hoseok, still glaring at Joshua’s retreating figure. Y/N didn’t even notice how the waiter was now actively avoiding the side of the table her and Taehyung were occupying, too busy reeling from the display of possession. 

“Okay, guys, what do you think about seeing a new movie in theaters in the near future? This cool horror film is coming out soon– Pearl, what do you say?” Alice proposed, passing the plate of stuffed quahogs to Seokjin with an encouraging smile. The jaguar hybrid was still too bashful to make eye contact with her. 

Digging into their appetizers, Y/N, the hybrids, and Alice made plans to see the movie on the night of its release, and Y/N was delightfully buzzed by the time she finished the chocolate lava cake she shared with Seokjin for dessert. When they bade Alice– who ended up taking an Uber, after all– a goodbye after the check was paid, Hoseok actually gave Y/N’s best friend a hug. True to her word, Y/N rotated seats in the taxi– she sat in between Hoseok and Jeongguk in the back seat of a Honda Civic, Jimin taking up the front passenger seat. Tipsy and full of way too much food that she had split with Seokjin, Y/N sleepily rested her cheek on Hoseok’s shoulder, falling in and out of comfortable slumber for the fifteen minute ride back home. 

The next week and following weekend were a whirlwind of events. She had dropped off Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung at the rec center on Wednesday for their clubs, and again on Friday, while her mother offered to begin ferrying Namjoon and Seokjin to and from the library on Mondays for the book club, saving Y/N from having to leave at the crack of dawn before work to get them there. During the weekend, she helped Jimin out with the restoration work; they had finished the freshly-painted purple chicken coop, and moved onto putting a new fence around the exercise pen. At work, which was slower than ever, she spent most of her time between reading hybrid guide books and writing notes about the Tarot reading Judy gave her. 

The day of Namjoon’s birthday, which fell on a Monday, had her running around like crazy. She had asked for the day off, in order to coordinate how her dad would get Namjoon’s trailer to his house. The wolf hybrid was at the library with Seokjin for that week’s book club meeting, so Y/N had her dad drop off the trailer while he was gone. 

“Whoa, that thing is ancient,” Yoongi remarked, his arms crossed over his chest and spotted tail curling languidly behind him as he stared at the trailer– which turned out to be more of a camper van than anything. “Needs a hose-down.”

“Ah, I don’t want to do that just in case he wants to keep it this way,” Y/N dragged a fingertip along the yellow siding of the vehicle, the digit coming away dusty with dried mud. “You know how he is. Particular.”

“How much did you have to pay to get this thing here?” Yoongi watched as Y/N tied a little green bow onto the keyring to the van, an amused expression on his face. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N gave Yoongi a little head pat, his ears fluttering as she did so. 

Namjoon made it back home around 4 PM, him and Seokjin clutching copies of The Scarlet Letter, and thankfully her mom heeded her request to drop them off at the front of the house so Namjoon wouldn’t see his trailer parked in the back by the garage. When Y/N asked what the wolf hybrid wanted for dinner the previous day, he vaguely told her “noodles”, so she and Yoongi made japchae, some side dishes, and meat, of course. She had absolutely raided the bakery in town, getting an assortment of cookies, cupcakes, and pastries, which she had to hide in the garage fridge overnight so Namjoon wouldn’t get his hands on them prior to his party. When she greeted the two hybrids her mother dropped off by the front door, Y/N noticed Namjoon was also holding a gift bag with daisies on it. 

“Whatcha got there?” Y/N asked the wolf hybrid curiously, while Seokjin was giving her a goofy side hug. The jaguar hybrid often clung to her when he’d return home from the book club; he said the week prior that he missed her a lot when he was away. 

“Oh, um. Your mom got me something for my birthday,” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck, following Y/N as she waddled to the kitchen with Seokjin hanging off of her. 

“Did you open it?” 

“No, not yet,” Namjoon admitted, sniffing the air, which was filled with a grilled meat smell. He entered the kitchen behind her and Seokjin cautiously, like he thought a ghoul was going to pop out from behind the refrigerator. “I didn’t want to open it while the group was there.”

“Fair enough. I’m curious though, why don’t you see what it is now?” Y/N managed to get Seokjin off of her once she squeezed her arms around his slim waist in a hug, the jaguar hybrid purring and taking a seat on one of the barstools. 

Namjoon stiffened as Y/N got close to him where he was standing by the coffee bar, peering around his shoulder at the gift bag. It was interesting– while Seokjin seemed to never get enough physical affection, Namjoon tended to avoid it most of the time. Every hybrid was different, so she supposed and had learned from the guidebooks she’d been reading. Last week, she found out from the wolf hybrid guide book; they take a long time to warm up to adoptive guardians and are slow to initiate physical contact. Since she had learned this, Y/N didn’t take his aloofness personally. 

Namjoon dove his elegant fingers into the sunshine yellow tissue paper, his ears turned backwards as if something in the bag would nip his hand. Pursing his lips, he used both hands to pull a box out of the gift bag, Y/N recognizing what it was immediately. Her mother had splurged on a gorgeous chess set for Namjoon, and once again Namjoon’s human ears had turned a shade of pink as he passed a palm over the glossy box. 

“Do you know how to play chess, Joon?” Y/N inquired, scooching a bit closer to him to admire the front of the box. The board itself looked like the squares were made of mother-of-pearl and ebony wood, and the chess pieces were intricately carved. “My grandfather taught me a long time ago, but I’m probably pretty rusty…”

“I never actually played, but I’ve read books about the game and strategies,” Namjoon replied softly, turning the box over in his hands and peeling the plastic film off of it. “I mentioned to your mother once that I’ve wanted to learn for a while.”

Damn. Y/N - 0, her mother - 1. Her mother had known Namjoon for longer than her, but the fact that she knew little intimate details about the wolf hybrid that she herself was unaware of stung a little bit. 

“Well, I’d be happy to play with you anytime. Because it’s been so long since I’ve played, it’ll be good for you to learn while being my opponent. I won’t kick your ass right away,” Y/N joked, hearing voices from outside draw nearer to the cracked slider into the backyard. 

“Hey, Y/N, what’s that th–” Hoseok came inside with Jimin and Yoongi, the latter of which smacked his hand aggressively over the fox hybrid’s mouth, cutting him off right before he spoiled the surprise. Thank the gods for Yoongi. 

“Foxy, go bathe. You fell in that pit of mud earlier, you’re going to get shit everywhere,” Yoongi shoved Hoseok towards the foyer, his palm still clamped over the fox hybrid’s mouth. Hoseok’s usually shiny mahogany waves were indeed, caked with mud, and the back of his tee shirt was soaked through as well. 

“Oh shit, I have to order the gravel to fill that mud pit in before it starts to get really cold. It’ll freeze and I’m nervous one of us will break a limb,” Y/N muttered, watching Yoongi pull a broom out of the closet in the foyer to sweep up the dirt Hoseok had tracked into the house. 

“I’ll add it to our list,” Jimin volunteered, pulling out his phone and tapping away. Jimin had been especially focused on restoration work over the past week. 

While she was at work and the other hybrids were at their clubs, the coyote hybrid spent most of his time outdoors. The only one home with him when everyone else was away was Jeongguk, who didn’t necessarily offer his help, but Jimin didn’t seem to mind. Y/N was shocked by how much Jimin had already accomplished; he had finished the exercise pen over the weekend with Y/N and was ready to work on the actual stable itself, which really only needed some roof patching. Y/N had made an Excel spreadsheet she shared with Jimin so he could keep tasks organized and jot down any items they’d need to buy. 

“Jimin, the restorations look amazing so far! I think at this rate we’ll have horses around here by November. I’ve asked around my grandparent’s pool of friends, and there are at least four of them interested in boarding their horses here over the winter,” Y/N approached Jimin, who was much tanner than he was when she first adopted him from all his time spent in the sun. Even his honey blonde hair had lightened a few shades, as well as the fur on his ears and tail. 

With her words, Jimin’s tail swished back and forth rapidly, excitement clear as day on his face. He had a small smear of mud on his nose, which Y/N reached up to remove with her shirt sleeve gently. Jimin’s cheeks turned pink as she grinned at him and pushed back the strand of hair falling into his face to join the rest of his combed-back style, Y/N resisting the urge to cup his face in her hands and smooch him all over. There weren’t many things she had seen before that was more precious than Jimin’s pure, radiant joy– it positively lit him up and made her giddy like a fool. 

“I should wash up before dinner,” Jimin’s voice was faint, like his thoughts were distant and too large for him to sort out, giving Y/N’s shoulder a weak pat before shuffling towards the foyer. “I’ll be back soon! Oh, and happy birthday Namjoon.”

Namjoon, who was still reading the back of the box his chess board came in, grunted in surprise, giving Jimin a short nod as the coyote hybrid left the kitchen in a daze. Y/N tried not to feel too satisfied that she seemed to have flustered Jimin a little bit, but it was quite the ego boost to make such a pretty man blush. 

Seokjin had migrated from the island to the breakfast nook, where he curled up with his knees to his chest, reading The Scarlet Letter. Y/N noticed Seokjin was taking notes, too, with the legal pad she kept in the kitchen junk drawer and one of her stolen pens from the animal hospital. The jaguar hybrid was totally engrossed, biting down on his plush lower lip as he read, his sock-clad feet tapping out a rhythm on the booth seat he was perched on, and his tail curled around his waist. She turned her attention back to Namjoon, who still appeared to be reeling from Jimin addressing him. Returning to his side, Y/N let his honey-and-musk scent wash over her pleasantly, his chest rumbling as she approached. 

“I got a few things for you too, can I give them to you now?” Y/N asked, knowing that Namjoon was more of a private person.

 In comparison to Jeongguk, who had more of a confident, devil-may-care attitude, she couldn’t really picture Namjoon being super comfortable getting showered in gifts while the other hybrids gawked at him. Now, with just Seokjin in the room, someone Namjoon had gotten more comfortable with thanks to the book club, she figured it would be the best time to give him his gifts. 

“Okay,” Namjoon answered after a moment, gingerly placing his chess set down on the coffee bar. 

Y/N told him to take a seat at the island while she whisked away to the dining room where she stashed the wrapped gifts, returning quickly with a smile on her face when she saw Namjoon followed her directions. Curiosity, along with a fair bit of skepticism, was painted all over his handsome face. It was a tall order to top her mother’s gift, but she thought the trailer might just give her a leg up. 

“Alright, Joon! This one first,” Y/N placed a wrapped parcel on the wolf hybrid’s lap, leaning her elbows on the granite countertops so she could watch him open the gift. 

Namjoon huffed out a little sigh as he began tearing the sage green wrapping paper, his eyebrows furrowing as he revealed the two items Y/N had wrapped together. She knew the sigh he released was to cover up the fact that he was slightly embarrassed, rather than annoyed, and it made her smirk into her palm. The gift was the set of Tarot cards that reminded Y/N of him, and the book she had picked up for him the day she took the hybrids for haircuts. Suddenly feeling nervous, Y/N stole a glance at Namjoon’s face, and was rewarded with an expression of surprise, his eyebrows lifted as he immediately pulled the cards out of its gilded box. 

“The colors reminded me of you, and you seemed to know all of the card meanings, so I thought you’d be interested in having your own set,” Y/N babbled, Namjoon ducking his head slightly so he could look at the artwork of a few cards off of the top of the deck. “As for the book, there’s a strong possibility you’ve already read it, but I’m crossing my fingers that you haven’t.”

Namjoon paused his loose overhand shuffling to peer at the book cover, wetting his lips and his ears fluttering as Y/N spoke. 

“I haven’t read this one. Looks like it came out recently… Maybe something in there will tell me what that entity is,” Namjoon leaned closer to Y/N, his voice low, as if he was trying to keep the moment between just the two of them. 

“Maybe it will,” Y/N mused quietly, feeling the air electrify as Namjoon drew closer into her personal space. “Here, this one next.”

Namjoon cocked his head, scanning her face with those calculating orange honey eyes, before tearing open the second wrapped box. A soft, muted noise of exclamation came from the back of his throat as he lifted the lid off of the box, before he actually began chuckling. 

“Oh, you remembered when I suggested a Walkman! Where did you even find this?” Namjoon lifted the device from the box, accidentally dropping the old wired headphones back into the tissue paper with a sheepish grunt. 

“Believe it or not, a pawn shop,” Y/N replied proudly, psyched that Namjoon liked his gifts so far. She could hardly wait to drag him outside. “Now you can listen to those folk tapes whenever you want, or order blank tapes online and record your own voice. Like an audio diary?”

Namjoon snorted, his dimples appearing in his cheeks, and used one of his free hands to drape over the back of Y/N’s. Shocked by the contact, and the fact that he had been slowly doling out more of it these days, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. 

“I have one m-more surprise for you, but it's outside,” Y/N stumbled over her words due to a slew of things; his hand over her’s, the way he was looking at her intensely, and the excitement of reuniting him with some of his belongings in the camper van. “Come with me!”

Y/N wrapped her hand fully around Namjoon’s, tugging him off of the barstool and excitedly blowing past Seokjin, still wrapped up in his book, and towing a spluttering Namjoon out to the backyard through the slider. 

“What else could you possibly get me? H-hold on, I’m going to trip,” Namjoon panted, stumbling a bit as Y/N pulled him to the gate leading to the garage and driveway. He squeezed her palm tightly, tugging her to a stop with one eyebrow raised– he didn’t release her hand, even when they stopped running.

Using her free hand, Y/N gave the wolf hybrid a mischievous look and reached into her  pocket for the keys to his van, which was obstructed by the garage and out of view, and brought their joined hands up to her face. Turning his palm over in her hand, she dropped the keys into it, the green ribbon fluttering in the wind. There was complete silence as Namjoon stared at the item that was placed in his hand, nothing but the breeze in the willow trees making a sound. 

“No fucking way,” Namjoon blurted loudly, startling a few mourning doves sitting on the gate to the garage and driveway into flying away with a series of coos. “Are you serious?”

Biting down on her lip, Y/N jerked her head sideways, Namjoon eagerly following her past the gate and towards the garage and driveway, the old camper van coming into view beside the basketball hoop Yoongi had set up. The siding of the vehicle was buttery yellow and white-turned-gray with mud and ancient looking moss, and there was something dangling from the rearview mirror– maybe an air freshener?

Namjoon tightly gripped the keys in his fist, pure astonishment on his face as he took it all in, his hand slightly shaking as he approached the side door to unlock it. Y/N didn’t check out the interior of the van herself; she figured far too many people had already invaded his space– between agents who apprehended Namjoon in the first place, the people at the impound lot, and her father who brought the van from the lot to their neighborhood. She wanted more than anything to check out what kinds of things Namjoon collected over the years, but since she had read more about wolf hybrids, she wanted to wait until he actually invited her into his space. 

The side door to the van creaked open with a rusty sound, a gust of parchment-scented air rushing out as Namjoon hurriedly hauled himself into the back of the vehicle, leaving Y/N standing in her driveway with a swish of his tail as he disappeared into the back of the camper. Shifting from foot to foot, she heard Namjoon mumbling to himself and banging into things from her spot outside the camper, when his head popped into view with fluttering ears, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

“What are you doing? Come in,” Namjoon used two fingers to beckon Y/N up the steps, before disappearing into the back of the camper again. Giddy, she hopped up and into the van. 

It was a vintage camper, and surprisingly more roomy than it looked. It smelled like Namjoon, mingling with old books and the smell of pine trees, and it was pretty crammed with more books than she could count– stacked on the shelves, piled on the floors, strewn about the table by the seating area in the back, and by the looks of it, even shoved into the oven. There were tapes scattered about as well, and indeed, there was a poster of Bigfoot on the wall, next to the iconic “I want to believe” The X-files print that looked like it had seen better days. 

Above the driver’s cab, there was a loft with what appeared to be a bed where he’d sleep. There was a mini kitchenette that looked hardly used, an ancient looking TV nestled on the counter intended for cooking prep, and a little door by the seating area that Y/N presumed to be a bathroom. It had pretty much everything one person needed to live in there, and Y/N wondered where the hell he had even gotten it. It wasn’t like hybrids were technically permitted to drive (legally, that is), let alone waltz into a used car lot to purchase a camper van. It was another mystery that cloaked Namjoon. 

“I hope everything’s still here,” Y/N began, eyes roaming on some of the book titles that were lying around. Namjoon had everything from fiction novels, classics, esoteric non-fiction books, and even poetry anthologies. “Let me know if something is missing… I’ll call the impound lot.”

Namjoon was digging through a drawer that was built into the booth of the sitting area, his back to her. With no reply from the wolf hybrid, Y/N continued to take a look around, noticing that the lack of organization mirrored how he kept his bedroom within the house. Meanwhile, Namjoon found what he was looking for, straightening out and watching Y/N read some of the spines of the books he had lining a shelf beside the kitchenette. He could hardly believe she actually found the van, let alone had gotten it back to the house and surprised him with it. Namjoon was particularly good at sniffing out surprises before they happened, but nothing could have prepared him for this. 

“Wow, you have so many books about extraterrestrials. I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff,” Y/N commented, enjoying her little peek into Namjoon’s interests. “Have you read all of these? You must have a hundred books–”

“Y/N,” Namjoon interrupted her, his tone serious, grave, even. Tearing her eyes from his book collection so she could nervously make eye contact with the wolf hybrid, she wondered if she said something out of turn, or was somehow too familiar. 

“Mmm? Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop,” Y/N admitted sheepishly, clasping her hands together in front of her body to indicate that she wasn’t going to touch any of his belongings. 

Namjoon took a large step towards her, a soft expression on his face that was usually reserved for her mother. Feeling her cheeks flush, she stayed put, dropping the intense eye contact between them and instead focusing her gaze on the cream wool sweater covering his chest, the v-neckline exposing a small sliver of golden skin. 

“This is for you,” Namjoon murmured, gently grasping her clasped hands and turning over one of her palms, placing a smooth, cool object into it. Shocked, Y/N gaped at the wolf hybrid, before examining what exactly he had gifted her. 

In her hand was a crystal, smooth and rounded, roughly the size of a ping-pong ball. She couldn’t help her sharp intake of breath, turning the crystal over in her palm, the milky color of the stone flashing blue and purple in the light coming from the window over the kitchenette. Y/N could immediately identify the crystal as soon as she saw that flash– it was a gorgeous moonstone, one that had the most striking flash of brilliant color she had ever seen. And for once, Y/N was completely at a loss for words.

“I found it by a creek a few years ago, at Yellowstone. I remembered I had it, and thought that you’d like it… considering your collection on display on the bookshelves in my room,” Namjoon filled the silence as she felt all sorts of emotions begin to well up inside of her. 

Not only was the first thing Namjoon did when entering his van after such a long time was give her something of his, but the fact that he noticed her old crystal collection in his room, and most of all, the way he was looking at her. It was entirely overwhelming. 

“Oh Namjoon, are you sure? It’s so beautiful, I can’t believe you found this!” Y/N finally managed to breathe, heart racing in her chest. 

Namjoon hummed in confirmation, a content smile on his lips as he gazed around the van, his ears flickering with the sound of the breeze outside. To heighten her surprise even further, the air was knocked from her lungs as Namjoon tugged her forward, gingerly wrapping an arm around her waist so tightly his hand ended up resting on her hip. His other arm moved to drape around her shoulders, tucking his face into the crook of her neck resolutely. Choking on an intake of breath, Y/N hardly had time for her brain to catch up with her motor skills, pressed up so tightly against Namjoon’s muscled chest. 

“Thank you,” Namjoon whispered into her neck, squeezing her slightly as she, with trembling limbs, wound her arms around his waist. 

It was as if he was thanking her for many things, with the seriousness in which he uttered the two words. Completely stunned into silence, Y/N could only imperceptibly nod in response, pressing her cheek over Namjoon’s steadily beating heart. Warm all over, she let Namjoon hold her for what seemed like minutes, before he pulled away and Y/N was able to regain some mental facilities. That was the first time Namjoon had ever hugged her. 

Regarding her with newfound fondness, Namjoon turned with a swish of his tail, resuming sorting through his drawers and making sure all of his belongings were there. Y/N had yet to move an inch since the out-of-character hug. All she could think about was how safe she felt in his arms, protected, even. As if someone had pressed play on a paused action movie, Y/N was able to reanimate herself now that Namjoon’s penetrating gaze was no longer lingering on her. 

“I’m going to set out everything for dinner now, okay? I’ll send you a text when everything is heated up… I got a bunch of sweets for dessert, too,” Y/N announced after lightly clearing her throat, Namjoon’s ears fluttering with the sound of her voice. 

Sliding the beautiful moonstone he had given her into the pocket of her linen pants, Y/N felt her wooden limbs begin to robotically take her down the steps into the van. Before she could stray too far, Namjoon spoke up again. 

“Y/N, really,” the wolf hybrid paused his sorting through some well-worn sweaters from the drawer he was organizing. “Thank you.”

Pausing, Y/N shot him a wide smile, warmth blooming in her chest. 

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Joonie.”

Namjoon’s birthday was a wonderful success, and ended up endearing Y/N to the wolf hybrid by many strides. The rest of the hybrids treated his birthday like it was a normal dinner, except they got to indulge in champagne and all kinds of desserts after, as well. Taehyung had even begrudgingly wished him a happy birthday after a couple of flutes of champagne, and the wolf hybrid was too busy talking to Jeongguk about his paranormal book collection to growl at Taehyung. Tension between Namjoon and Taehyung seemed to be slowly dissolving over time, and after the former’s birthday had come to pass, mid-September began to fly by. 

One Thursday afternoon at the metaphysical shop, while Y/N was munching on a caesar salad wrap Yoongi had packed for her lunch, Y/N received a call while she was on her break. Fumbling for her phone, thinking it was an SOS call from one of the hybrids at home or the rec center, she didn’t even check the caller ID before picking up. 

“Y/N? Do you have a pulse?” Ben, who she had neglected to contact frequently over the past few weeks in the midst of mayhem, sarcastically drawled. 

“Still breathing,” Y/N confirmed, setting her wrap down so she could better focus on the call. “Sorry I’ve been missing… Two birthdays this month, clubs at the rec center have started, and the new job. How are things? Daisy, you and Roy?”

“I figured you were busy, no worries, Y/N,” Ben chuckled. “We’ve been super busy too. I took some time off so I could be at home with Daisy, Roy’s still working on his dissertation. We’ve stalled our wedding planning. It's been so crazy. Oh, and we signed Daisy up at an activity center, like a daycare? We get to stay, of course. She’s made so many friends already, another bunny hybrid!”

“Who would have thought we’d all be so domestic right now,” Y/N grinned into the receiver, doodling flowers in her notebook. She had just about wrapped up her analysis of her reading she got from Judy all those weeks ago. “Maybe tomorrow at some point I can swing by, bring some lunch for you guys? This weekend’s nuts. Hoseok has a track meet tomorrow night, Yoongi has a basketball game on Saturday morning, and I told Jimin I’d take him to the hardware store after. Sunday, too, Taehyung’s got his first expo, and I’m doing something with Namjoon and Jeongguk later that evening.”

“Christ. I thought I was busy. I forgot you got seven of them, and they’re adults,” Ben sounded astonished, Y/N giggling into her palm as she skimmed her notes. “Wait, you only mentioned six of them. What’s the remaining one up to? Not interested in clubs?”

“Oh, Seokjin? He’s in the book club my mom runs out of the library. He’ll probably tag along with me to all of the events. He’s quite against parting with me for too long,” Y/N felt a fondness flow through her as she mentally pictured Seokjin’s lovely face, and the way he shadowed her constantly. 

“Yeah, hybrids are clingy, Y/N. Bet you’ve learned that by now, though. Do they claw at each other to see who gets to sit next to you on the couch?” Ben joked, unaware that Y/N was flushing– because they pretty much did. “Speaking of Seokjin. I looked into that situation you texted me about regarding the Cirque Mystique fire. As well as the other two things. I’ve had some free time whenever Daisy is down for her naps.”

“Ben. I love you, do you know that?” Y/N’s week was made with this revelation, visualizing his blue eyes rolling back into his skull on the other line. “I have like fifteen minutes until I have to open the doors again!”

“Alright, I’ll give you the basics. I’ll send over everything I’ve compiled after we hang up, sounds good?” A ruffling sound of papers being sorted through came through the receiver; Ben had likely printed out all of the information Y/N had him dig around for. With Ben’s status as a powerful, successful business lawyer, he had not only numerous far-reaching connections, but a persuasive personality to seek out information she could never find out herself. 

“Yes, yes, go ahead,” Y/N urged, pulled out of her intense focus on the reading she had just finished taking notes on.

“So, let’s start with Cirque Mystique. They’ve had a few lawsuits over the years, I’ve worked with other lawyers that handled their cases. One of my buddies has a contact over at the circus, so I was able to ask directly about the hybrid your Seokjin was performing with the night of the fire,” while Ben spoke, Y/N held her breath. “Hannah, a cat hybrid. She’s still with the company, she’s fine… sustained minor injuries, but my friend is working to get her out of the company. She’s pressing charges for unsafe working conditions. If she wins the case, she’ll be able to enter the adoption system.”

“She’s okay? Thank goodness,” Y/N placed a hand over her forehead, overjoyed that she could tell Seokjin the good news later. “Wait, hybrids can press charges like that?” 

On the other line, Ben hummed in amusement. 

“Y/N, you really are clueless about the hybrid world, huh? Yeah, within the last five years or so, the law protects hybrids in certain ways. We’re not all there yet, unfortunately, but for serious matters… poor living conditions, abuse, etcetera, hybrids can press charges and request representation if they so desire. Typically, public defenders take the cases considering most hybrids cannot be legally employed, meaning they have no way to pay for a higher-profile lawyer. However, some of my colleagues have taken cases and waived fees for many cases regarding hybrids. Morally, we can’t stand how some of these hybrids have been treated,” Ben explained patiently. 

“So, hybrids can take cases to court now,” Y/N confirmed, Ben grunting in response. “Which answers one of the other things I asked about.”

“Yeah, so, I’m not quite sure if I can give you a perfect answer. I understand protecting whichever hybrid of yours that may have gotten himself into a situation, but it depends on how serious the issue was. You mentioned self defense in response to an abusive situation, correct?”

Y/N had asked Ben, as vaguely as she could, about how a hybrid would go about protecting themselves if placed in a dangerous situation, and used self-defense in response to danger. She hadn’t mentioned Taehyung’s name at all, not that she was worried Ben was some kind of rat, but because the Kodiak hybrid didn’t even know she was arming herself with information, just in case they’d need it in the future. She prayed that day would never come. 

“That’s right, self defense. For example, say I was walking around Boston Common, and someone tried to mug me and a couple of the hybrids. If they fought back physically in the name of self defense, would juries likely side with the hybrids?”

“Well, that depends on who makes up the jury, and how good your lawyer would be. Say that actually happened, right? Fortunately, Y/N, you have the means to hire a really good lawyer for your hybrids. A few sympathetic members on the jury could definitely sway the verdict in your favor. I’d say, keep whatever happened under wraps until either your hybrid presses charges or the other party does. But yes, I’ve seen cases involving hybrids defending themselves against abuse resolved in their favor,” Ben sounded like he was rubbing his close-cut beard, deep in thought. “I compiled some information about cases like this, I’ll include it when I send the email to you later.”

“Thank you Ben, this is really great stuff so far,” Y/N gushed, relieved to have certain anxieties quelled with his information. “Any news on the last query?”

The final thing she had asked Ben to look into regarded Jimin. Ben’s cousin lived in Wyoming, and was married to a park ranger, so she was able to find out a few things for Ben to report back to Y/N. She had a couple of tricks up her sleeve not only surrounding Jimin’s birthday in a few weeks, but for Christmas as well. 

“Ah, yes, Jimin’s surprise,” Ben said through a smile. “Here’s the thing. You need to send the Yellowstone ranch’s office a copy of his adoption certificate to prove he’s in your care, and what you want to retrieve for him in Montana…”

“Yeah? Rip the bandage off,” Y/N picked at her nails, expecting some hoops to jump through. 

“Y/N, it’ll be a pretty hefty sum. I mean, it’s not like they’d be shipping a crate of books to you. They’re willing to do it, for the right price of course, and provided you show them that Jimin is officially adopted by you,” Ben revealed with a note of skepticism. 

“All I care about is if it’s possible, which apparently it is,” Y/N waved her hand in the air, even though no one was there to watch her gesticulate. 

“I figured,” Ben snorted, knowing Y/N was the type of person to splurge endlessly on those she cared about. “As far as taking Jimin to visit his family, that’s allowed as well. Really, as long as you can show the Park that you’ve legally adopted him, and he’s not just a stray, there’s no rule that prohibits him from visiting his family on the ranch.”

Y/N wanted to take Jimin to see his parents, sister, and friends some time after the holidays, perhaps in January. She only wanted to entertain the idea if Jimin wouldn’t face any sort of punishment, considering he had run away from his home and employer. Since all that was needed was proof that he was living under her roof legally, she could not only gift him a trip to Montana for Christmas, but surprise him with something huge for his upcoming birthday. 

“Ben, thank you so much, I mean it. I knew you’d be able to dig all of this up,” Y/N excitedly stuffed the last bit of her delicious wrap into her mouth, catching a bit of homemade dressing on the corner of her mouth with her tongue. She’d never tire of Yoongi’s cooking. “You’re a superhero. I can’t wait to see you and hug you for twenty minutes.”

“Y/N, don’t flatter me. It was refreshing to look into all of this for you, since I’ve been cooped up at home for so many weeks. Don’t get me wrong, though– I’ve been loving my Paw Patrol marathons with my daughter dressed in our pajamas in the meantime,” the sound of Ben filing away his papers filled Y/N’s ears, his breathy laughter threaded in between his words. “As for what you mentioned earlier, I’d love it if you could swing by tomorrow for a visit. I miss you, and Daisy has been asking for ‘Foxy’. I think she heard your leopard hybrid calling him that.”

“Hmm, how’s early afternoon? Hoseok’s meet isn’t until 5PM, and I have the whole day off. I can likely rope everyone into coming, but we’ll see,” Y/N watched the clock on the wall, making sure she had some more time to finish her lunch. “Hey Ben, one more thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Do you know if anything has changed regarding hybrids getting a driver’s license?” 

“Jesus, Y/N. Do you read any of the articles I send you? Yes, driving schools have begun taking on hybrid students,” Ben scolded lightheartedly, Y/N noting that she’d probably end up signing a handful of the hybrids up to get an official license. 

Getting some form of official ID for those who didn’t want to drive would be wise, too– and when she thought about it a bit longer, Y/N would need to look into getting another car. Her to-do list was never ending, but it kept her busy and the tasks were all worth it, if it meant her boys could live lives as close to normal and comfortable as possible. 

“Ah, I can hear Daisy. She has a new habit of climbing out of her bed after her nap to look for me in my office. Time for Paw Patrol,” Ben had never sounded more affectionate, except for when he was talking about Roy and their wedding plans, perhaps. “Take it easy, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too, Ben. See you then, give Daisy a hug for me,” Y/N wrapped up the call, waiting for Ben to hang up first as he started to baby-talk at his daughter. 

Y/N, while finishing off the little bag of chips Yoongi had included into her lunch, unlocked the metaphysical shop’s front door and turned the sign back around to “open”. It was busier prior to lunch, and typically customers tapered off after her break, so she returned to her stool with a sigh and brought her attention back to her notes on the reading. After many weeks of consulting the guide book, asking Judy to see the physical deck, and slyly observing each hybrid’s behavior, she was fairly confident she had sorted out who was who. 

The Shaman - Related to the element of Air. Insightful person, involved with magic, particularly protection magic. Gaze is ‘ancient’, mature, and seems to possess knowledge from ages past. Animistic spirituality. Meditative. Respects nature and what can be learned from it. Musical, finds the sounds of nature inherently musical. Educator and leader of the young, “walks between worlds”. Seokjin (?)

She had spent a majority of the time trying to decide which card represented the jaguar hybrid. Over the past month she had spent with Seokjin, she noted his insightful, wise nature, his calmness, and his deep respect and admiration for nature. He was the one the others often looked up to, sometimes begrudgingly so, since he was the oldest in the house. 

Often, she heard Seokjin singing– she wasn’t sure if Seokjin was aware he had a listener, let alone a fan, but Y/N often found herself enjoying his melodious voice when he sang in the shower, while he worked on the stable repairs with her and Jimin, or even when he was tipsy and helped with post-dinner kitchen clean up. 

Additionally, there was a certain quirk of Seokjin’s Y/N had recently become aware of. He was unnaturally perceptive, and Y/N would even go as far as saying it was on par with Namjoon’s perceptivity. Seokjin, more than any of the hybrids, could not only sense her immediate shift in mood, but the other hybrid’s as well. He had a unique ability to emphasize with anyone in the house, even if he disagreed with their actions. After much deliberation, she decided Seokjin was The Shaman. 

The Archer - The Spring Equinox, sunrise, air, inspirational and creative. Hoseok for sure. A focused, determined, athletic person full of purpose. Cunning. Eager for adventure, bold, desires to take control of life and ambitions. Steady state of mind. Soulful, clever, uses intellect to their advantage. Imagination is powerful and has the ability to manifest into reality.

The Woodward - Lammas, late summer, fire and water. Associated with the full moon. Others often mistake passive, emotional, humble nature as weakness. Controls emotions with ease, but displays them with ease. Jimin, most likely. Understands facing fears, has experience with darker subjects of the cycle of life. Possesses great inner power. Brave, wise, balanced person. Compassionate, merciful, experienced in natural life cycles. 

The next two were the easiest to figure out; Hoseok and Jimin. Out of all seven of her hybrids, they were the more extroverted of the two. Y/N only had to read three lines of the guide book to know that The Archer was her Hoseok; clever, adventurous, and definitely imaginative. Jimin, on the other hand, wore his emotions on his face clearly and without restraint. However, he was incredibly polite and in control of his actions, which she had clocked when he first scented her. Like The Woodward, she noticed that some of the other hybrids would often make him the butt of a joke because he was so willing to let things go out of politeness, but Jimin was no pushover. He’d make his own jokes in retaliation, with class and wit. 

Yoongi and Taehyung were more difficult to place, but not as much as Seokjin was. She spent a week alone, with the remaining two cards, trying to make out who was who. It was that day, at work, where she finally felt confident enough to assign them a card. Taehyung being quiet and mysterious, and Yoongi being enigmatic no matter how attached at the hip he was with Y/N, she nearly drove herself delirious in the effort. 

The Hooded Man - The Midwinter Solstice, the element of Earth. Solitude, a thoughtful person. Represents death and rebirth. Frost, ice, and winter are associated with the card. Inner depth. Someone who has a quiet or slow voice. Withdrawn. Can be harsh, keeps to self. Seeker of knowledge, old soul type individual. Strong willed, survives any stressful situation and turns tribulations into lessons learned. Good at comforting others… Taehyung (?)

The Guardian - This must be Yoongi. Samhain, elements of Water and Earth. Protective, “human link to the wilderness”. Can incite fear in others, but controls their own fears well. May practice paganism at one point in their lives. Complex person, unafraid of the unknown or the taboo. Can be a trickster, has an inner darkness due to circumstances that have happened in the past. May get lost in their thoughts. Hades, Oberon, Dark Angel.

Biting the cap of her pen, she contemplated whether or not she had placed those two hybrids correctly. The characteristics of The Hooded Man that matched up with Taehyung were his soft-spokenness, and his introverted personality, and his “solitude”. Once she deduced that Taehyung fit that card best, she became puzzled with the remaining card being Yoongi. 

Yoongi, who was probably the most selfless and caring person she had ever met in her life, being a card as dark as The Guardian? It didn’t make too much sense to her, but the other cards fit everyone else too well for her to reconsider. Perhaps there was an inner darkness to Yoongi that she hadn’t seen yet… he did have a proclivity for schooling his features, and Y/N didn’t know too much about his past. Like a lot of the others, he really didn’t bring up his life prior to his adoption, and Y/N was hesitant to prod around, considering how close she and Yoongi had become. 

Interrupting her contemplation over the reading, the witch bells rattled against the shop’s door, announcing the arrival of a customer– a young woman with lilac-dyed hair, holding hands with a tall man. Once Y/N blinked rapidly to clear her head, she greeted the two customers cheerily, watching them peruse the crystal table. 

With a jolt, she realized that the man was actually a hybrid, perhaps a German Shepherd hybrid, triangular ears crowning his head and an air of protective energy surrounding him. The young woman was happily examining a chunk of clear quartz, and to Y/N’s great surprise, her hybrid ducked down to give her an affectionate kiss on the apple of her cheek, the woman giggling in response and getting on her tip-toes to plant one on his lips. Eyes glazing over, Y/N felt a deep ache in her chest; she couldn’t wait to go home and see her hybrids, all of a sudden. 

“Okay, okay, we have to get going now, or Hoseok will be late for his meet,” Y/N was trying her best to corral the seven hybrids back to her Land Cruiser parked outside of Ben’s townhouse. 

She brought a stack of pizzas from Sal’s over for lunch. Recalling Laura’s diet before a track meet from her high school days, Y/N knew that loading Hoseok up on carbs was probably her best bet, and everyone– her hybrids and Ben’s family– loved Sal’s pizza. They spent the afternoon eating in Ben’s grand dining room, catching up, and playing with Daisy. Jimin and Hoseok were delighted to see the bunny hybrid again, and Y/N had to physically shove a plate with four slices of pizza on it into Hoseok’s hands while he was chasing Daisy around Ben’s living room so he wouldn’t cramp up during his meet.

“Foxy,” Daisy pouted in a watery manner, making grabby hands at Hoseok while Roy held her on his hip. Over the course of the afternoon, the bunny hybrid had gotten pretty attached to Hoseok. “Don’ go!”

“Sweet pea, Foxy has somewhere he needs to be. We’ll see him again soon, don’t worry,” Roy soothed, in his typical calm and collected manner. Daisy continued to fuss and reach for Hoseok, who had his lower lip jutting out as well. 

“Next weekend, Dais, okay? I’ll see you then, we’re going to pick pumpkins, remember?” Hoseok also attempted to soothe, Y/N catching Jeongguk rolling his eyes as he hauled himself into the back seat of the Land Cruiser. Y/N was actually quite proud that Jeongguk had refrained from not only using expletives the whole afternoon, but also from lighting up a Marlboro for so many hours. 

“Thanks, Ben, for all of the info,” Y/N gave him a hug, making sure each hybrid was getting into her car as she patted the thick envelope of paper in her tote bag Ben had discreetly placed in there before they left. “See you next week, love you.”

Ben, Roy, and Daisy waved at them as Y/N pulled away, having Namjoon beside her set the navigation to the rec center. Ben lived in the heart of Boston, on Beacon Hill, and the rec center was in her town just outside of the city, so it would take them about half an hour to get there. She was genuinely surprised that everyone was willing to go to Ben’s and then Hoseok’s meet, but she suspected that some of them were just itching to get out of the house, particularly Jeongguk and Jimin, who rarely left. 

The rec center was a huge concrete building, right on the edges of the town they lived in. Large basketball courts were outside by the parking lot, and at the back of the building was the running track. As she had read on the website, soon the outdoor sports would be moving inside. That weekend were the only meets and games Hoseok and Yoongi would have outdoors until the spring, if they decide to sign up again, that is. 

It was 4:15 by the time she had parked and everyone was following Hoseok to the track. He was whistling joyfully, swinging his gear bag around and tapping a rhythm on the side of it, Y/N taking a sideways glance at the basketball court and its stands that she’d be crowding into the next morning. She didn’t know if anyone besides Seokjin would be joining her for Yoongi’s game the following day, but it would be nice if the others would be just as supportive of the leopard hybrid as they were of Hoseok. 

“I gotta hit the locker room and change, the bleachers are over there. I think there’s a dude selling hot dogs and cheeseburgers somewhere, too,” Hoseok paused by the back door of the rec center, overlooking the running track. Already, there were quite a few families crowding the stands, and a handful of hybrids in uniform stretching on the track. 

“Alright, we’ll go find spots. Looks like Yoongi’s already on it,” Y/N snorted, most of the hybrids following Yoongi to the stands like lost little ducklings. Turning to Hoseok, who was rooting through his gym bag, the fox hybrid pulled out a white sweatband, which he promptly shoved over his head to get his hair out of his face, ears popping up cutely with the movement. “Come here, you. Good luck, I’m cheering for you!”

Y/N tugged Hoseok to her by the belt loop of his jeans, squeezing her arms around his waist tightly, hooking her chin over his shoulder. Usually, when Hoseok would give her a hug, he’d similarly place his chin over her shoulder, so she had gotten used to holding him this way. Hoseok was only caught off guard for a split second before he clasped his hands behind her back, playfully nuzzling his nose into her hair. 

“Go find your seat, before there’s none left. You don’t want to have to sit on someone’s lap, hmm?” Hoseok placed his hands on Y/N’s hips, lightly pushing her away with a cheeky grin. “Gotta change and stretch. I’ll see you after, my darling.”

With that, Y/N waited until Hoseok retreated into the rec center before she headed towards the bleachers, most easily recognizing where she had to go by spotting the bony set of Jeongguk’s antlers. Yoongi had chosen a section of bleachers right in the front, and people around her hybrids were giving them a wide berth. After all, it wasn’t like they were bunny hybrids. Y/N wondered if she should go on a podcast or something, so she could tell the world that exotic hybrids were just as clingy and sweet as your average housecat hybrid. 

Y/N settled in between Yoongi and Seokjin, with Namjoon and Jeongguk directly behind her. Confused, she looked around for her remaining two hybrids, but couldn’t visually locate them anywhere. Panic, as per usual, was impossible to squash down. 

“I sent them to get some drinks and snacks,” Yoongi spoke unprompted, cracking his knuckles and glancing at Y/N out of the corner of his eye. Talk about mind reading skills. 

“Hungry again? I knew I should have ordered seven pizzas rather than six,” Y/N relaxed, leaning into Yoongi’s shoulder and humming. 

“Seokjin wanted to try what they had,” Yoongi scooted closer to Y/N, his sweet-scented shampoo tickling her nostrils. “Even though I told him the food is shit here.”

“Hey, let me decide for myself! How could a cheeseburger possibly taste like shit?” Seokjin declared, sending a dirty look Yoongi’s way. Y/N believed it might have been the first time Seokjin ever swore in front of her, and it made her hook an arm around his back in amusement so he could nestle closer to her side. 

“What’s Foxy’s event, anyways?” Yoongi let it go, pushing a hand through his long locks. 

“He told me he’s doing one of the sprints, and a middle distance event. I think the mile,” Y/N replied, eyes lighting up as Hoseok jogged out of the rec center building dressed in his uniform; a red tank top and matching bottoms, black Spandex shorts under the baggier red uniform pants. 

Hoseok made his way onto the track, fist-bumping a couple of his teammates– a racoon hybrid, from the looks of it, and a calico cat hybrid. Y/N, entranced, kept her sight glued to Hoseok doing quad stretches and animatedly talking to his friends. Hoseok, by nature, could talk to anyone. He made friends everywhere he went, whether it be Y/N’s own friends, his teammates, or even a random cashier at the grocery store. 

The coach, a wiry thin man with gray hair, began handing out numbers and pins to the team. Hoseok ended up with the number 807, and even from several yards away, Y/N could see his wide smile as he pinned the number to his tank top. By now, Jimin and Taehyung had returned from the food stand, the former with a tray of sodas, the latter balancing several paper boats of hot dogs, french fries, and cheeseburgers in his arms. Y/N accepted a portion of french fries, still full from the pizza, mindlessly fiddling with Taehyung’s dark curls as he sat in front of her with his soda. 

“Hmm. You were right Yoongi, it’s shit,” Seokjin begrudgingly admitted, Y/N snickering as the jaguar hybrid chewed loudly in her ear with a pout. Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“So, there’s going to be a loud noise when the coach shoots off the flare gun. Just giving you all a heads up, it usually spooks me,” Y/N nonchalantly informed the hybrids, but more specifically warning Seokjin in particular. 

She didn’t want to single him out and make him uncomfortable, but Seokjin was jumpy around loud sounds, so the warning was necessary. Nonetheless, he got the message with his keen perceptivity, and wound his tail around her waist in a silent response. 

Hoseok was incredible. When it was his turn to sprint, Y/N cheered him on, even though he was lagging behind. However, at the last moment, he shot forward like a rocket, coming in second behind his friend, the raccoon hybrid. Y/N clapped like a maniac, nearly spilling her basket of french fries all over the top of Taehyung’s head. 

A bit later on, it was time for the middle distance run, and Y/N was on the edge of her seat. As a joke, Jeongguk leaned down from his seat behind her, offering her an unlit cigarette poised between his inked fingers. After receiving a glare from Y/N, Jeongguk smirked and tucked the cigarette back into the carton, licking his lips. 

“Do we get to leave after this event?” Jeongguk spoke up, Y/N not tearing her eyes from Hoseok jogging in place at the starting line. Twilight had begun to color the sky in lilacs and pinks, a slight chill in the air as the sun disappeared behind the rec building. 

“I think so, unless Hoseok wants to stay and watch the rest of the events,” Y/N replied without looking back at the elk hybrid, gripping Seokjin’s hand tightly before the flare gun would go off again. His palm was warm and combatted the chill, and his thumb lightly brushed the back of her hand continuously. 

It seemed like falling behind, getting a slower start, before surging forward at the last minute was Hoseok’s strategy to win. The fox hybrid ran with grace, and it was almost spellbinding to watch him surpass each of his teammates as he pulled forward in first. Y/N hardly even noticed Yoongi taking off his bomber jacket to place around her shoulders as the temperature outside continued to drop. She only registered the action when she stood abruptly the same time Hoseok crossed the finish line first, the jacket unceremoniously dropping off of her shoulders as she screamed her head off. Sure, the people around her were giving her odd looks, but she didn’t give a shit. 

“Way to go Hoseok!” Y/N shouted, her fox hybrid getting attacked by bear hugs from his teammates on the track. “I’m so proud of you!”

Without thinking, Y/N whistled the three note tone Hoseok always did, and watched as Hoseok tore away from his friends and immediately whipped his head around to locate the source of the whistle. Ears perked up and alert, his eyes zeroed in on Y/N, who whistled again, waving like her life depended on it. Hoseok looked taken aback, even with all of the commotion around him; his teammates slapping his back, the coach attempting to give him a handshake. Cocking his head, Hoseok sobered up, his face splitting into a grin, waving back to Y/N with equal enthusiasm. 

As it turned out, Hoseok wanted to leave after the event, not even bringing up his first and second place wins as he approached Y/N and the others, complaining about the cooling temperature. To be fair, the fox hybrid was covered in sweat, so that couldn’t have helped the situation. Y/N attempted to give him another hug, but he claimed that he was too grimy, so they piled into the Land Cruiser for home when it was all said and done. In celebration of Hoseok’s success, Yoongi made everyone homemade hot chocolate when they got home, killing the cold that had seeped into Y/N’s bones from being outside. 

“You look really good,” Y/N breathed, taking in Yoongi in all of his glory, dressed in his green basketball uniform and leaning against one of the basketball hoops. Surprisingly muscular for his slight frame, Y/N had never seen so much pale skin from the leopard hybrid. Additionally, he had put on a fair amount of weight and muscle since she adopted him– when he was not getting much to eat at the shelter– which was relieving. 

His game was mid-morning on Saturday, and only Seokjin had elected to come with her and Yoongi. Currently, the jaguar hybrid was sitting on the bleachers further away, taking stock of the cooler he had brought along, filled with snacks and drinks. Y/N didn’t think he wanted another hockey puck burger from the food stand, so he packed things from home to eat. 

“Do I?” Yoongi lifted a brow, surprised Y/N would be so forward. “Jersey’s a little tight. Might ask for a bigger one next gameday.”

“Nuh-uh. Looks fine to me,” Y/N shook her head innocently, enjoying the blush on Yoongi’s cheeks with her teasing tone. “Number 54.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Yoongi deadpanned, Y/N shrugging lightly. She had long since become immune to Yoongi’s quick comebacks, and truthfully, she was flirting with him. “Careful.”

“54, get that hair up! Can’t have it hanging in your face during the game,” Yoongi’s coach, a stern middle-aged woman with a blonde crew cut, barked his way. Yoongi had mentioned she was tough, but an amazing coach. 

Yoongi made a move to grab the green scrunchie around his wrist, before Y/N stopped him by lightly snatching his wrist herself. 

“Can I do it? Please?” Y/N dangled the scrunchie in front of his face, winking coquettishly. It was very easy to make Yoongi blush, but even easier to get him to give in to her every whim when she teased him a little with a flirtatious glance. It was certainly an ego boost. 

Nodding with his eyes downcast, Yoongi took a seat on a courtside chair, Y/N filled with glee as she rounded the chair and slid her fingers into his silky black hair. Pulling her lip in between her teeth, she knew that Yoongi’s hair wasn’t long enough to completely tie back into a bun, so she gathered up the pieces on his crown and framing his face, softly scraping her fingernails against his scalp for a little added massage. Hearing him purr from beneath her, Y/N hummed in response, using the scrunchie to make a half-up half-down bun style, before straightening out the strands still loose against the back of his neck. Satisfied, she gave Yoongi a tap on his shoulder, prompting him to get back up. 

“There you go, all set,” Y/N admired his face now that his hair wasn’t hanging in it, the shaved sides above his human ears exposed. It was a shame he had to take out all of his hoop earrings for the game, because they’d go well with the hair style. “Knock ‘em dead out there, angel.”

His coach began furiously blowing her whistle, indicating that the game was starting soon, so Y/N took it as her cue to begin returning to Seokjin. Before she could get very far, though, Yoongi caught her around the elbow. 

“Hey, what about my good luck hug sweetheart? Foxy got one,” Yoongi tilted his head. Oh, the tables were turning, apparently.

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Y/N opened her arms, looping them around Yoongi’s back and shuddering at the feeling of him slinging his low around her waist, both of them pressed cheek to cheek. Yoongi wound his fingertips into the hem of her sweater, his chest rumbling with purrs against her’s. In a strong bolt of confidence, Y/N released him, his features curious while her’s mischievous, and much like when he first made her lunch to take to work, Y/N leaned up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on Yoongi’s cheekbone. 

“Good luck, Yoongi,” Y/N whispered coyly into his ear, sending him one more wink before shoving him lightly towards the court, where his teammates were gathering around the coach. 

The leopard hybrid walked off in a daze, caught off guard by the impromptu kiss once again, and Y/N skipped to the bleachers where Seokjin was waiting for her, reading the book club selection of the week. She wondered if Seokjin had seen the spectacle and was ignoring it, or if he was too wrapped up in The Catcher in the Rye. 

“Hi honey, I missed you,” Y/N snuggled up close to Seokjin, the briskness of the wind telling her October was on the way. “How’s the book? Can’t say that one is a favorite of mine.”

“I’m not a big fan so far, either. Um, but next week we’re reading Pride and Prejudice. I remember you said you liked Jane Austen a lot, so I’m excited to get through this one and move onto that. You’ll have to tell me a little about it,” Seokjin set his book down, adjusting the collar of Y/N’s sweater so it covered more of her shoulder. Seokjin often fussed over her bundling up as the weather was cooling down, lately. 

“Ooh, you, Joonie and I can watch the movie after you finish the book. I think you’ll love it. Hmm, maybe Jimin too, he likes romance movies,” Y/N wormed her way even closer to Seokjin– if she was any closer, she’d be in his lap– and linked her arm under his. The jaguar hybrid, she noticed, didn’t like the cold, so she didn’t think he’d mind if she made herself into a space heater for him. 

“So it’s about romance?” Seokjin glanced down at Y/N, his fiery eyes distant for some reason, his voice very soft. 

“Yeah, it's arguably the best romance novel of all time,” Y/N replied, trying not to find his reaction strange. Did she spoil the surprise for him? Before she could read too much into it, Yoongi’s coach blew her whistle, and as Seokjin flinched closer into Y/N’s space, the game began. 

While Yoongi was playing, like when Hoseok was running, Y/N was transfixed. Yoongi seemed to be the best player out of the bunch; and being the shooting guard for his team, he scored several points in the first quarter alone. She recalled her phone call with Alice not too long ago, when her best friend referred to Yoongi as being sexy… and watching that basketball game, she couldn’t help but think about how right Alice was. Something about watching Yoongi running around on the court, yelling in his deep, raspy voice at his teammates, and the sweat that began to collect around his hairline and dampen the locks had her pretty much squirming in her seat. She prayed Seokjin didn’t notice, but he had been periodically going back and forth from paying attention to the game, reading his book, and snacking on some Doritos. 

The game became a nail biter in the last quarter, and Seokjin began to watch it with more focus, offering Y/N a few Doritos as she nervously tapped her foot against the metal bleachers. Yoongi seemed to be growing frustrated with the other team’s shooting guard, a Doberman hybrid, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists as the hybrid kept annoyingly close to Yoongi once realizing he was the biggest threat on the opposing team. 

As the timer was running out, the two teams were tied. Seokjin was soothingly patting Y/N’s back as she gnawed on her nails, eyeing the sweat rolling down Yoongi’s temples. Just as she was praying to the sky, Yoongi managed to get the ball, sinking a three-pointer, not even seconds later the buzzer going off indicating that the game was over. 

Unlike Hoseok, who had welcomed hugs from all of his teammates before seeking out her and the others, Yoongi immediately turned to the bleachers and pointed at Y/N, who was already flying out of her seat and cheering in delight. 

Before she knew it, she was jumping up– right into Yoongi’s arms, as he caught her mid-air, her arms around his neck and legs encircling his waist, his hands supported her by cupping under her thighs. Still squealing with joy into his neck, Y/N didn’t even register all of the cheering around her and teammates thumping Yoongi on his back. He won, and the first thing he did was look for her.

After Yoongi’s game, she treated Seokjin and Yoongi to some lattes and pastries before they headed back to the house, and she spent the rest of the day trying to calm her racing heart after Yoongi held her by working on the stable with Jimin. When she found the coyote hybrid that afternoon, he was on the roof of the stable sans shirt, patching up holes with shingles. So much for calming her racing heart. Fortunately, he put his tee shirt back on by the time he and Y/N were hauling hay into the nearly completed stable. 

The last two things on her agenda, when she woke up on Sunday, were Taehyung’s photography expo in the afternoon, and the banishment ritual she had planned with Namjoon and Jeongguk in the evening. The ritual, fortunately, could be performed inside, and was quick and dirty; after all the running around during that weekend, she was both utterly exhausted and ready to just chill out with all of the hybrids on the couch for a bit. 

The dress code for Taehyung’s expo was casual, but Y/N still decided to wear a cute autumnal dress, in a gothic periwinkle color trimmed with black lace. This time, not only did Seokjin tag along, but Jimin and Hoseok as well, which she thought was a nice gesture. Everyone who went dressed up a bit; Seokjin and Jimin in button downs and dress pants, Hoseok in a maroon sweater and jeans, and Taehyung in his outfit he had worn to the cookout– the ruby satin short-sleeve button down and baggy black cargo pants. They all looked pretty stylish, in Y/N’s opinion, and as she pulled up to the rec center for the third day in a row, she felt many eyes on the five of them. 

“We only have to stay for a little while. There’s no presentation or anything, just a few of my pictures hanging up, and champagne served,” Taehyung began nervously, nodding at the older gentleman holding the doors of the rec center for them. 

“Aw, Tae, we’ll stay for as long as you want! I can’t wait to see your first pictures. You’ve been working so hard, walking around the backyard for good shots, editing on your phone,” Y/N insisted, clicking her tongue when Hoseok rushed by her with Jimin and Seokjin in tow, straight for the nearest person with a serving tray full of champagne flutes. “If I want to get them printed, how would I go about doing that?” 

With this, Taehyung turned quite red, matching not only his shirt but the peculiar color of his eyes, too. Y/N took a cursory look around the room they had set up the event, clumps of people and hybrids scattered around the industrial looking lobby, low tables of appetizers and cheese plates, and of course, framed pictures on the walls, separated by who took them. 

“Taehyung! Good to see you here so early. Did you see where we set up your pictures?” An older woman, perhaps in her sixties, approached her and Taehyung standing in the middle of the room with their champagne flutes. “Oh, you must be Y/N! So nice to meet you, dear.”

Y/N shook hands with the woman, who had gorgeously painted plum fingernails and several artsy bracelets. She reminded Y/N of her mother, vaguely.

“Come, come. I’ll lead the way. I put your pictures up over by the window, Taehyung, and we hung them with the walnut frames you picked out last week,” the woman gestured for her and Taehyung to follow her, and the Kodiak hybrid suddenly looked incredibly nervous. 

Y/N reached for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly, not wanting him to feel shy about showing her the pictures he had worked on all week. She made sure Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin were faring well; they were chatting with a couple of other hybrids across the room and enjoying cheese and crackers, presently. As they walked to where Taehyung’s pictures were, Y/N felt Taehyung’s palm grow clammy in her grip, his ears flattening to his skull so much they were hidden in the mass of his dark curls. 

“Here we are! They’re beautiful, I can’t believe it’s his first time with a camera– Oh! Brian, welcome! Excuse me, you two… enjoy the expo, and well done, Taehyung!” With that, the woman breezed away to greet another hybrid and his family, stepping out of the way so Y/N could get a good look at the four photographs framed on the wall. 

The first one her eyes landed on was a picture of the front of their house in black and white, the sunlight reflecting interesting shapes on the eaves of the roof. It was taken from a spot in the flower beds lining the walkway up to the porch, so a single Black-eyed Susan was closest to the lens. The second, also in black and white, was a picture of himself, holding one of her grandfather’s vintage cameras up to an old mirror in his bathroom back at home. As per usual, he looked gorgeous, and there was a ghost of a smile on his usually stoic face. 

Smiling, she recognized the room in the third picture immediately, it was the room with the piano, and the photograph was in color. It was a shot angled from where Taehyung would lay on the floor to listen to records, and the picture showed Y/N and Yoongi’s feet as they sat at the piano for their weekly lesson. It was amazing that she wasn’t even aware that Taehyung was snapping pictures of them, but judging by the sweatpants Yoongi was wearing in the picture, it was from two weeks ago when he was teaching Y/N “Clair de lune”. The photo showed Yoongi’s sock-clad foot over her’s on the sustain pedal, showing her when to hold it down. If anything, it was quite an intimate shot that had her cheeks heating up. 

Swallowing thickly, and rubbing circles into Taehyung’s wrist bone, she got closer to the wall, turning her attention to the last picture. It was then when she finally gasped; it was a candid, colored portrait of her. She had no idea when Taehyung had snuck that picture of her, but from the softened, fuzzy edges of the film grain, it was taken with one of the vintage cameras. She was mid-laugh in the photo, her hand covering her mouth and eyes scrunched up in mirth, curled up on the couch in the parlor with purplish light illuminating the side of her face from the TV. Y/N never really liked seeing photographs of herself, but this one was lovely. Hardly believing it was even her, she stepped closer to the picture, trying to ascertain exactly when he had taken the photo. 

“Um… they’re kind of amateurish, but I think when I edited the two black and white ones, the result turned out nicely. I didn’t retouch the colored ones at all, they had pretty good lighting on their own,” Taehyung let go of her hand so he could point at certain areas of each photograph, his voice a little unsure. “Do you… what do you think? Are they bad?”

Casting a glance towards the Kodiak hybrid, who was anxiously analyzing his work with knitted brows, Y/N moved to grab his other hand as well, forcing him to face her. 

“Tae, they’re gorgeous. I love them, especially the one that you took with the mirror. Just as I thought, you’re a natural,” Y/N squeezed his large hands as she emphasized certain words. Taehyung could tell, based on her scent, that she wasn’t lying to him, and as if the sun came out, his adorable, wide smile blossomed across his face. It was enough to almost bring her to tears, the brightness of it. “I definitely want to print these. I’m going to display them in the house.”

Letting Taehyung go, she began to admire his pictures once more, taking a sip of her champagne. The Kodiak hybrid moved behind her silently, and sandalwood fragrance enveloped her as Taehyung leaned down to nestle his chin on her shoulder, Y/N feeling low grumbles against her back as he pressed up against her, his arms around her middle. It wasn’t unusual for Taehyung to hug her like this, her back flush to his chest, so she leaned into it with a content sigh. 

“It was hard to pick just four. I’m happy you like these ones, though. You’re not mad I took pictures of you?” Taehyung murmured into her ear, his dulcet voice causing her to shudder in his embrace. 

“Of course not, Tae,” Y/N reassured, his curls tickling the sides of her neck as his face burrowed there. 

Often, she forgot she was in public when moments like this happened, so caught up in warmth and sensation nothing else seemed to matter. As if hearing her thoughts, Taehyung pressed his lips against the side of her throat, featherlight and tender. Feeling her stomach flip, Y/N leaned more of her weight back into Taehyung’s chest. 

“Y/N, over here! Check out this guy’s photos. They’re of a creepy old church, right up your alley!” Y/N heard Hoseok call from across the room, snapping her out of her Taehyung-induced reverie. Stepping away, she kept her arm linked with Taehyung, seeking out the other hybrids she had brought along with her. 

“Let’s take a look around! Then I have to find that woman who greeted us earlier to ask about prints,” Y/N walked side-by-side with the Kodiak hybrid, heading towards where Seokjin, Jimin, and Hoseok were congregating in the center of the room. 

After an hour, Y/N left the rec center with the four hybrids and a thick portfolio full of Taehyung’s photography. When she got home, she placed an order for a handful of picture frames. 

Just like that, September passed them by, and summer’s heat dissolved into a damp, overcast October. Once her, Jeongguk, and Namjoon had completed the banishment ritual, which involved burning herbs in her old cast iron cauldron and handing out sachets of cleansing bath salts for everyone in the house, Y/N was confident that they had gotten rid of the hag entity for good. She no longer felt its presence at all, in fact, the Victorian home had never felt so safe and protected. 

The stable was finally finished, which gave Jimin the opportunity to begin assisting Y/N with house renovations, starting with the hideous wallpaper on the second floor that was peeling in sheets. Even though the house was half-renovated, Y/N didn’t skip decking it out with extravagant Halloween, or Samhain, as she also called it, decorations as soon as the calendar read October 1st. Jeongguk poked fun at her for being overly enthusiastic, littering dozens of pumpkins on the porch and throughout the home, but Seokjin helped her set up the purple and orange lights on the fence around the front yard. Their neighborhood, filled with spooky looking homes from decades past, was popular with trick-or-treaters, so typically everyone went all out with decorations. 

It was the morning of Jimin’s birthday, a Thursday, and Y/N couldn’t help but think that it just missed falling on a Friday the 13th. Because Jimin didn’t belong to any clubs, she was having difficulty coordinating how to get his surprise in place, so she enlisted Hoseok’s help. 

“What do you need me to do, darling?” Hoseok whispered mischievously, after breakfast when Jimin had gone to take a shower before properly starting his day. 

“After he gets out of the shower, do you mind taking him for a walk over to my parent’s down the street? They have a gift for him anyways, so that’ll be the excuse for getting him out of the house,” Y/N felt like they were having a conspiracy meeting, ducking their heads together and speaking in hushed tones. 

When Jimin emerged from his bathroom, dressed in blue jeans and a buttery yellow crew neck sweatshirt, Hoseok promptly tore him from the house, the coyote hybrid sputtering out protests. As soon as they were down the street, Y/N had about an hour to get everything in order. 

“Joonie, can I have your help?” Y/N knocked once on the open door to his van, where he was inside reading a book about chess, spinning a pawn around in his fingertips. The look of shock on his face was adorable, but he set down his things and joined her outside. 

“There’s a delivery truck that just got here five minutes ago, looks like a horse trailer,” Namjoon informed her, following closely behind as they ventured further out into the driveway. 

“It is a horse trailer,” Y/N confirmed as they approached, Namjoon’s ears twitching as he heard something she could not. 

“Y/N, I know you’re a little, um. What’s the right word… generous with the birthday gift giving, but you did not get Jimin a horse, did you?” Namjoon lifted a brow incredulously, looking down at Y/N like she had sprouted a third arm. 

“No, I didn't get him a horse. I got him his horse. From the ranch,” Y/N retorted, tugging Namjoon by his wrist to greet the delivery driver and begin the process of bringing the horse to the freshly painted stable. 

It was no easy feat; Y/N had close to zero experience with horses, but luckily for her the delivery driver and Namjoon seemed to have things covered. Jimin’s horse, a beautiful bay female, was named Vista, and had a seemingly sweet disposition. 

“Now, this horse is used to Montana climate, and the winters can be bone chillingly cold. I think she’ll be alright here, and Jimin will be able to take care of her well,” the delivery man, who spoke in an accent similar to Jimin and Namjoon, gave Vista a strong pat on the neck, the horse nickering softly. 

Seeing the driver off, Y/N was starting to wonder why Hoseok and Jimin were taking so long at her parent’s house. Back in the house, Yoongi was busy making BLTs for lunch as per Jimin’s request, and placed the other gifts she picked up for Jimin on the island– just a nice bottle of his favorite whiskey, some new crystal tumblers, and a couple of new sweaters. 

“Y/N, Judas priest. Go out back, ding and dong returned, and they brought… guests,” Jeongguk came in from the kitchen slider after his smoke break, Y/N pausing her assembly of a sandwich to assist Yoongi. Judging by the look on Jeongguk’s face, which was poorly masked hilarity, Y/N began to hightail it to the backyard again. 

“Hi guys, you’re– dear god,” Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes threatening to pop out of her skull. 

Jimin was pulling her mom’s old red wagon, and nestled inside were chickens. Live chickens. Hoseok, with great effort, was holding a rooster in his arms, his teeth gritted, but merriment in his eyes. 

“My parents got you chickens for your birthday?” Y/N asked stupidly, Hoseok squawking as the rooster tried to flap free from his grasp. 

“Believe it or not, this is the kind of gift I’d get back at the ranch for my birthday often,” Jimin chuckled, completely unfazed. “We should get them to the coop though, that rooster is going to peck a hole into Hoseok’s arm.”

Shit. If Jimin was heading back to the stable, he’d see Vista, and they hadn’t even had cake yet. It couldn’t be helped, however. 

“Hoseok, here, give me the rooster. I’ve handled them before, don’t worry! Why don’t you change, I think it–”

“Yeah, it shit on me. It’s cool, I’m going to take a shower. Here’s the little bastard,” Hoseok thrust the rooster into her arms, sending her a wink before jogging off and into the house. 

“So, this isn’t unusual for you, Jimin? Chickens for your birthday? Honestly, where does my mother come up with these crackpot ideas? I mean we were going to get some chickens anyways, but this is just insanity. How many are there?” Y/N was rambling, feeling nervous about the whole horse situation. How would he react?

“I think there’s five hens. This is good, right? We’ll have fresh eggs soon!” Jimin was delighted, the stable only a few paces away. Jimin’s steps faltered, his ears alert, but he seemed to shake off whatever made him pause with disbelief on his face. 

“Alright, let’s get them in the pen. We’ll have to get some feed, your mother gave me some that’ll last for a few days,” Jimin started plucking chickens out of the wagon, setting them down in the grass while Y/N scattered food by the coop. Just then, Vista whinnied from within the stable, as if sensing her old owner. This time, Jimin flinched, staring at Y/N with round butterscotch eyes. 

“Um, happy birthday?” Y/N squeaked, Jimin springing into action and moving into a dead sprint, bolting into the stable with Y/N hardly able to keep up once she made sure the chickens couldn’t escape their pen. 

“Vista?!” Jimin exclaimed, standing in front of the stall his horse was in, all color drained from his face. “Y/N, is this? How did you?”

Jimin appeared to be on the verge of tears, entering the stall and stroking the horse’s mane with wonder. By his side now, Y/N watched an array of emotions wash over the coyote hybrid’s face. Her favorite, of course, was his joy.

“I just had to prove that I adopted you to the ranch, and they allowed me to have her brought here. I thought you’d like to be reunited,” Y/N revealed, the wind knocked out of her abruptly, Jimin grabbing her more roughly than he usually did and squeezing her into a fierce hug. So fierce, her feet were lifted off of the ground momentarily. 

“Well, why don’t you take her around some of the trails in the backyard? We’ve got saddles and everything,” Y/N breathed once he set her down, light tears still misting his eyes. Nodding enthusiastically, Jimin moved as if floating through air, gathering everything he’d need to prepare Vista for a ride. 

Jimin must have thanked her a thousand times before he let her out of his sight, but she insisted that she had to return to the house to resume helping Yoongi with lunch preparations. She watched as Jimin began to speak softly to Vista, his sandy tail swishing back and forth happily, before Y/N headed back into the house with a face-splitting smile. 

“Ooh, Freddy Kruger? How scary,” Y/N bent down to plop a couple of peanut butter cups into the little kid’s treat basket, holding onto her pointed witch hat as she did so. 

Halloween evening, her favorite night of the year, was turning out to be lively, and her house was ever-so-popular. Between all of the hybrids, some in costumes (Yoongi was Scarface, Hoseok dressed up as a pirate) and the lavishly decorated house, Y/N was practically stationed at the front door constantly with her large plastic cauldron full of candy to hang out. Assisting her was Seokjin, who was wearing a headband with little red devil horns. The kids absolutely loved him. 

“Isn’t tonight a special holiday for you? Samhain?” Seokjin spoke up during a rare moment without kids on the porch, his voice floating over the cheesy Halloween music Y/N had pulsing from her portable speaker. 

“Yeah, it is! You remembered,” Y/N cooed, adjusting the askew headband perched on his crown. “I set up an altar this morning in my room. Mostly, I just wanted to light some candles for my ancestors and put out offerings. I’m going to celebrate for a few more days, too… Samhain, Halloween, it’s a state of mind.”

Giggling at the goofy voice she used during her last statement, Seokjin perked up, a little girl in an Elsa costume bumbling up the porch steps for candy. The jaguar hybrid complimented her costume, offering her some packets of M&Ms. Shyly accepting them, the girl stared at Seokjin with awe before hurrying back to her parents on the street. 

“Y/N, we have a situation,” Yoongi lightly tapped on her shoulder from behind, standing on the threshold of the front door. Gazing upwards, catching the plastic gold chain Yoongi was wearing with his costume, she immediately sobered up upon seeing his distressed expression. 

“What happened, angel? Seokjin, can you take over for a few minutes, honey?” Y/N stood, following Yoongi into the house after he nodded. In the house, she sensed something off right away– there was shouting coming from the parlor. 

“It’s Jeongguk and Namjoon. They picked a fight with Hoseok–”

“Out of my fucking way, I’m outta here,” Jeongguk barked, and the sound of the slider in the kitchen slamming shut as Jeongguk stormed out of the house. 

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @sometingreallycool

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[rivetingrosie4]

What a Life (Morgan & Family: A Fluff Dump, Pt. 2)

credit to @foundynnel i believe for 2 of the edits above

𑁦𐂂𑁦

RDR2 | Arthur Morgan x Female Reader | Rating: General | tumblr masterlist | Ao3 | Part 1

Summary: Part of a modern au (and post gang) fluff dump work. Just a scene in which Arthur and reader enjoy secluded family life with their very young son. Arthur is a cute and loving dad and is adored by reader.

Tags: fluff without plot, family fluff, romantic fluff, domestic setting, parenthood

Word count: 2,660

In the cool shadow of the cabin, thrown long by the late morning sun, you sit with your little son, watching him play in the sandbox. The mourning dove’s rounded, plaintive hoots are parried by the sharp, tinkling warbles of goldfinches in the nearby pine branches, and the fragrances of crisp mist and thick sod linger in the mountain air.

You watch the faint glimmer of day paint the crests of Gabriel’s cupid’s bow with light, his plump lips resting between his two rotund cheeks as he concentrates on the toys before him. The wispy feathers of his splayed lashes bow and rise with each blink. His beautiful, shimmering eyes inspect each toy, each color, each shape. Out of all the blocks, large puzzle pieces, rings, balls, and animal toys half-buried in the sand, he has landed on one. You watch the bulbous pads and segments of each tiny, clumsy finger curl to a strong, stable grasp around the edge of the object of his aim—a large block with an Appaloosa sketched and painted lovingly on the side.

“Just like your daddy,” you whisper to yourself.

Dipping your fingers into the sand and feeling its chill envelop your skin, you look up with a smile to gaze in the direction of the stables. In the distance, you catch sight of Arthur hauling a huge saddle and its accompanying tack, a moment before he disappears through the door and into the shaded interior.

You recall the quiet rustling of his rising this morning when he’d been up before the sun, as he often is. And the way he’d kept from waking the baby in his room, intentionally leaving you to reap the reward of your son’s customary gleeful smile, his bounce in his crib, and his lifting of his arms for you.

You turn back to your eleven-month-old with a burgeoning smirk. “Wanna come help Mama make some sourdough?”

“Yeah,” he immediately chirps, recognizing nothing but the lilt of a question in your voice. But he doesn’t look up at you, still captured by the blocks and puzzle pieces.

You stand and take a few steps away to prompt him. “Well let’s go!” you call.

He braces himself on the sand with his palms, a moment later lifting his tush into the air. When he straightens, his brows knot, and his lips dangle from between his cheeks as he gazes down confoundedly at the discomfort of sand stuck to his flesh.

You snort a laugh as you cover the sandbox behind him. “Just go like this, Gabe Baby.”

You show him your flattened hands and slowly brush them together.

His brows don’t budge as he looks back and forth from your hands to his own, unable to fully brush them.

“Like this,” you whisper, gently taking his wrists and swiftly brushing his palms back and forth over each other.

When the sand is removed, he toddles to follow you up towards the cabin, and you carry him when you reach the oak staircase to the back door.

As you turn onto the wraparound porch, you notice Arthur now hefting a huge bale of hay by its cords into the stable, his black leather hat shading most of his face in the distance. But you like to imagine he wears a subconscious smile, now enjoying a life of simplicity, filled with nature and horses and art and family and love, tucked away from the gnarled heartache that gang life had left in its wake.

“Sandy baby,” you mumble when you arrive inside and close the back door behind you.

You promptly remove both your shoes and strip Gabriel to his diaper, tossing his sandy clothes into the hamper.

“Are you dry?” you ask vainly as he starts to toddle away. “Wait, are you dry?” You deftly hook a finger down his back and into his diaper before he can fully get away.

Peering into his diaper, you find no present. You carefully squeeze his bottom to discover no liquid deposit.

When you release him, he immediately darts down the hall. You follow and walk into the kitchen, beckoning him to join you. When he does and you bend to pick him up, he whines to be allowed to remain standing on his own.

“Well how’re you gonna see from down there?” you lightly ask.

When he shakes his head, you half-frown. It was just a couple weeks ago that eleven-month-old Gabriel began walking. Since then, he’s always wriggling out of your arms and dashing across rooms, seemingly already excited to be as independent as he can be.

At first, it stung. With the love and special intimacy of mother and son—and with even the chemistry and well-being of your bodies both dependent on the other—the two of you had been closer than peas in a pod, glued at the hip for so long. It’s always been and still is a precious bond to you, though its daily aspects continue to gradually change. And it was hard to so suddenly feel a little unneeded. But Arthur has helped you find a comfort in the balance of realizing that your feelings are only natural, and that you’ve been raising a wonderful and healthy little boy, with this change as just another bit of proof.

As well as the fact that Gabriel still likes to cherry-pick when he’s carried and when he walks on his own. You suspect that like any human, his adamant desire for independence doesn’t do one thing to hinder his deep enjoyment and fierce need of being held.

So you turn and begin pulling ingredients and dishes from the cupboard, at last going to the fridge to retrieve your sourdough starter. You begin mixing ingredients in your big bowl atop the counter, when you hear a whimper and feel a few hard tugs at your palazzos. And you smirk.

You glance down to find him with arms outstretched and upheld for you, bouncing on his tiptoes with longing. You stoop and lift him to you, hugging him to your hip and pressing a few kisses soundly to his smooth cheek.

Describing each action aloud to him, you finish mixing, dust the countertop with copious amounts of flour, and turn the bowl with your free hand to dump the dough.

“Now we knead,” you almost sing, in hushed tones.

Perched on your hip, his plump little arm drapes with familiarity and utmost contentedness over the back of your shoulder. He watches your every gesture with a mixture of restful curiosity and heightened interest.

You push the dough away and pull it towards you again and again, tucking the edges underneath as you do, to form a smooth, rounded surface on top.

“You wanna feel it? You wanna knead?” you ask.

Leaning forward, you let him reach and press his tiny hand into the supple surface of the cool dough.

“Gentle,” you say, showing him the way you keep your fingers outstretched and softly brush and pat the surface of the dough with the pads of your fingertips. “No squeezing.”

The two of you watch his little fingers delve into the pliant mass of dough, leaving a mark of small craters. When they begin to slowly bounce back, you watch his face instead of the dough.

He releases a single cooed sigh of delight as he looks at you with a bright smile, which you heartily return.

How you love, you love, you love him.

You sprinkle the dough with flour and rest it in a basket for its turn to prove. After fetching a dough you’d left proving hours before, you carefully score it with one long slice for expansion, and several small strokes for a quaint wheat kernel design on the other side.

“Mama.” Gabriel pats your sternum and rests a couple fingers past his lips.

“You hungry?” you ask.

When he nods, you brush a hand down the slope of the back of his head and kiss his temple. You add as you set him to his feet, “Let me get this in the oven, then I’ll feed you.”

After setting the parchment-papered sourdough in its cast iron dutch oven and pouring a bain marie past the paper, you place the whole thing in the oven and set a timer. You glance at the oven window with a small smile, eager to see the crispy crust on your extra-sour boule. Since you first noticed its resemblance to Gabriel’s tummy, you’ve made a tradition of kissing the top of the boule, then indelicately turning Gabriel sideways in your arms and blowing a raspberry on his bare belly, making him cackle hysterically. These days, he’s even begun giggling when you turn him in your arms and before you ever kiss his belly, already tickled by the anticipation alone.

With Gabriel in tow, you walk to the couch in the living room. Gabriel rests both arms over the seat cushion and tries to lift one leg up over the edge, but you reach your hands under his arms and pull him into your lap.

Just before you unhook your bra from its strap to nurse, the two of you hear the back door open.

Gabriel’s eyes widen, and a grin begins to pull on the corners of his mouth. “Da,” he says.

He wiggles down off the couch, and as he toddles down the hall, you listen to his bare little feet patting quietly along the hardwood floor. You smile to yourself at the precious sound, so deeply dear to you.

As you hear Arthur’s rustling, jingling presence in the doorway and the naturally firm, heavy footfalls of his work boots, you imagine him resting his black hat on the wall as his small son comes around the corner in only his diaper, bared rounded belly and all.

When you hear the playful growl and the resultant squeal and cackle, your grin splits wider.

“You’re in your nethers, baby boah!”

You can detect the pinch of a smile in Arthur’s voice and the breath of laughter with the last couple words.

More little pads of bare feet as Gabriel comes running back around the corner and down the hall. He hesitates as he toddles, turning back to ensure Arthur’s tailing, eager to play this game with his father.

Still, when Arthur leans around the corner and pulls an exaggeratedly silly face with an outright grunt, Gabriel’s little body gives a tiny jump. His squeal and adorable laughter ring out into the air. He clumsily darts into the kitchen.

When his father follows with a few long strides and the sturdy clops of his boots, he brings with him the musty scents of alfalfa hay and tanned rawhide, of trail dust and undiluted sunshine. And the two subsequently begin an elaborate game of peek-a-boo, back and forth around the island. You can’t help but laugh along at the purest sound of undiluted joy—the beauty and innocence of your own child so easily tickled and contented by life and love—as you turn on the couch and watch the pair. No matter how many times Arthur jumps out to stop him with a silly face and a low hoot or growl, Gabriel instantly screams and squeals, his body utterly racked with tightly coiled cackles.

Arthur wheezes and snickers every time.

“Oh my God, listen to him!” you laugh.

It’s always another several seconds before Gabriel totally recovers and manages to catch his breath, his laughter smoothing with each heave of air.

With the next turn of their game, Arthur lingers behind the island when Gabriel rounds it, not jumping out even when his son takes reticent steps forward, looking for him. Arthur continues to linger, even quietly backing up to hide himself, watching his son for the right moment to strike.

Finally Arthur leaps out, and Gabriel jumps with the highest squeal and loudest cackles you’ve heard yet.

You and Arthur both burst with your own laughter at his reaction.

When your son’s breathing finally evens, you call, “Gabriel, I thought you were hungry?”

“Oh, were you about to eat, son?” Arthur asks in his deep timbre. “You hungry?”

Gabriel nods and pats a hand to his belly above the rim of his diaper.

“Well, better go see Mama,” Arthur quietly grunts as he picks his son up by the underarms and sets him on his hip out of habit. Arthur lifts him over the couch back and sets him down into your lap, then remains behind the couch himself, watching over your shoulder.

After cushioning your back and adjusting him in your arms, you reach beneath your tee, unhook the front of your bra, and gently bring Gabriel to your breast to nurse. He latches on immediately, very well accustomed to your routine. A certain profound peace washes over you as you watch him. His lips flange around you as he suckles; his quiet breaths through his nose briefly pause each time he swallows; and his plump little arm rests wistfully over your chest.

Many people may look away, abashed and discomfited, unable to fit something at once both so innocent and intimate into their world. But it’s always made perfect sense to you. And maybe motherhood was a dream too quaint, one not rebellious or modern enough, seemingly not daring or adventurous enough. But it was your dream.

When Gabriel spots Arthur’s face over your shoulder, he pulls away from your breast with a growingly wry grin, clearly expecting to continue the game from moments ago. Droplets of your milk spill between you and his mouth as he voices a syllable and lifts his arm, attempting to goad Arthur into another silly face.

Arthur silently complies with cross-eyes and a sideways tongue.

Gabriel promptly giggles, and the two of you smile and chuckle at the sound.

“Don’t while he’s nursing, he’ll choke,” you lightly say.

After softly cooing and corralling Gabriel back to his feeding, you continue watching him with a contented smile. You brush your hand down over the back of his head, into the growing downy hair that curls funnily at the base of his neck. As he closes his eyes, you brush the backs of your curled fingers down over his temple, and gently trail your fingertips across the velvet flower-petal skin of his plump baby cheek.

You hear the long, relaxed sound of Arthur’s husky breath over your shoulder, a sound you know very well, especially these days.

“What a life, huh?” he quietly says.

He means to facetiously point out Gabriel’s current lot—nursing at his mother’s breast with his father at the ready to make him smile and laugh. That is, a life full of love and joy, well taken care of, and absent of a care in the world. Just as he should be for now.

It doesn’t take you a few moments, and you’re turning to look into Arthur’s cerulean-sage eyes. A knowingness resides in your gaze. Because you yourself, as well as your husband, have been given all you’d so deeply and totally longed for—and longed, a word too weak—more than you could’ve ever imagined you’d actually live to get.

“Yeah,” you quietly, pensively respond. “What a life.”

The love of your life holds your gaze, and understands.

Your love and gratefulness are immeasurable and uncontainable, filling you and stretching past the bounds of your body and being, like fragmented granules of glittering dust floating from a burst star.

Strangely enough, even with all the joy and contentment and peace, the words and the shared gaze are not without a mingling of loss and ache.

They are not gone entirely. But you both have someone now, to join you in weathering them.

You are not alone.

Arthur leans to you, and you share a few kisses, soft as breath. You turn and close your eyes a moment as he rests his forehead to your temple. And you both gaze down at your son with contented smiles.

[cicerfics]

Having A Silly Thought about this post:

I think, at some point, Q-branch becomes very absorbed in the discussion of how Evil Overlord and Evil Consort are clearly two separate genders which bear no relationship to the gender binary of masculinity vs. femininity. A cis man can certainly be an Evil Consort! A nonbinary individual or a person whose gender presentation leans more toward the femme side of things can certainly be an Evil Overlord! These things are complex and variable and must not be restricted based on the artificial confines of the gender binary!

There is much discussion on this topic (a very normal topic of conversation in Q-branch, TBH). People begin analyzing themselves to determine whether they are more on the 'Evil Overlord' side of the spectrum or more on the 'Evil Consort' side.

(Soon, a small group insists that a third gender of 'Evil Henchperson' must be created as well, and this is accordingly done. A few other 'evil' genders pop up, too, as some techs choose a different label for themselves. But most people in the department are trying to decide whether they're more of an Evil Overlord or an Evil Consort.)

Graphs and charts are created to analyze the ratio of responses and to sift for patterns in the collected data. (Again, this is a very normal extracurricular activity in Q-branch.)

Q, everyone agrees, is an Evil Overlord and not at all an Evil Consort! This is understood. (Q does not speak to this himself, because he is busy finishing the annual budget, but his minions feel confident that they have assessed him correctly.)

And at some point, 007 turns up in Q-branch and wants to know what's going on with the white board that says 'Evil Overlord' and 'Evil Consort', with tally marks underneath it.

One of the bolder interns explains the matter to him. (Half the techs are now feeling very awkward and avoiding his eyes. How frivolous they must seem to a man who puts his life on the line for England every day!)

But Bond listens very solemnly and then tells them to put a tally mark under 'Evil Consort' on his behalf, because he is UNDOUBTEDLY that type. He is confident that he would look SPLENDID in a skintight black leather outfit, lounging across his overlord's lap while a traitorous minion is brought in for punishment. He would be EXCEPTIONALLY good at climbing out of the water, gleaming and dripping, in a tiny swimsuit, while his Evil Overlord makes evil phone calls on the deck of an evil yacht. He knows EXACTLY what the duties of Evil Consort would entail, and he could perform them with APLOMB. He would bring tremendous style and panache to the role!

...This is probably the point when Q pops out from his office to see what all the ruckus is about, and why Bond is loitering in Q-branch with a bunch of rapt technicians hanging on his every word.

When Bond explains, very seriously, that he is contributing his personal data for use on this important project (he is 100% an Evil Consort, and yes, Carstairs, he WILL fill out your form and offer supplemental data for additional analysis! glad to help!) Q sputters. He tells Bond to stop being ridiculous.

Bond, very seriously, informs Q that he cannot help being so good at smirking, smoldering, and sashaying around in risque outfits. Don't hate the player, Q. Hate the game.

Q is silent for a long, exasperated moment. Then he heaves a sigh and returns to his paperwork.

Meanwhile, the minions nod at each other solemnly, and silently agree that Bond would be an excellent Consort for their beloved Overlord.

...Just another normal day in Q-branch!

[lovemyavatar]

Equilibrium

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

this one’s for you, @tiredmamaissy ily

Warnings: purely smut, (aged up) nsfw, p in v, oral (female receiving), mating, soft dom Neteyam

Notes: this is set within the same universe as Push and Pull, however it can be read as a standalone

“Where are you taking me, ‘Teyam?”

He guides you forward, long fingers loosely entwined, arm extended at his back as he leisurely steps through the brush. His lips twitch with the ghost of a smile, excitement blooming in his stomach.

A giggle bubbles up your throat, feet stumbling over rocks and upturned roots as you blindly follow him through the forest. Long lashes flutter beneath the soft cloth he’d tied gently around your head, just after a searing look and a quiet you trust me, yawne (beloved)?

He’s spent the last week doting on your every need, to the point of excess. Since learning about how you felt ignored, cast aside by his cold demeanor in front of the clan, he’s made it his mission to lavish you with attention at all times.

Even when your cheeks prickle with heat and you gently bat wandering hands away, he only pulls you closer, planting sweet kisses along your neck and murmuring a quiet be good beside your ear.

It brings warmth to your chest, having him love you so publicly. Truthfully, the clan has been aware of the underlying tension between you for years now. Seeing as his parents promised you to each other at a young age anyway, it only made sense that you’d finally given into your desires.

The back and forth was purely a product of two idiots so stuck in their heads they couldn’t see what was right in front of them.

Neteyam stops abruptly, and you stumble, landing against a strong back. He chuckles softly before turning, hands reaching up to delicately remove your blindfold.

You blink against the low light, vision refocusing. Brilliant, glowing purple surrounds you. Your head swivels from side to side, taking in the long hanging tendrils of one of your favorite places in the forest.

A smile pulls at your lips as you run a hand through the dangling branches of the Tree of Souls. It feels alive, the whispers of ancestors long buried wafting over your skin.

When your eyes trail back to him, breath catches in your throat. His chin is low, eyes molten with desire and something else, something deeper. His heated gaze bores through you, straight to the growing warmth between your legs.

Your thighs press together, a motion that doesn’t go unnoticed. The corner of his lips twitches into a tiny smirk. One of his large hands dwarfs yours as he peels it from your side before bringing it to his lips to plant a lingering kiss along your knuckles.

“Be mine?” He whispers, voice hoarse.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your chest, fingers tightening against his. “We’ve been over this, yawnetu (love). I’m all yours.”

“I mean…be mine—here.” He takes a step closer, free hand skimming the small of your back. He pulls you into him, chests pressed together tightly. “Before our ancestors. Before Eywa.”

Your eyes pop wide and you move back, eyes scanning his serene expression. You search for any hesitation, any lingering doubts. When all you see is assurance, your lips part in surprise.

“I thought…” Your heart sputters in your chest, thrumming harshly between your ribs.

Though you’ve wanted this all along, you’ve tried so hard not to push him. To force his hand before he’s truly ready. His current fascination with you has been more than satisfactory, the way he’s made your pleasure a priority enough to make you nearly forget you aren’t really mated.

His hand drops yours to move around his back, searing gaze never leaving you as he grips his queue and brings it over his shoulder.

“I want you—all of you—to be mine.” The raw desire in his eyes makes your core clench with anticipation.

He was lost before, distracted by obligation and expectation. Now that he has you, gets to live the rest of his life with you at his side, he wants it all. No, he needs it all. A need to possess, to dominate, has been growing within him, and it’s nearing the breaking point.

“Okay, just…slow down, Nete.” You’re breathless, partially in disbelief that this is finally happening.

Your hands move up to caress the sides of his face, eyes flicking over his features one last time before capturing his lips with yours. He responds instantly, arms tightening around your middle until not even a fraction of space exists between you.

Your head tilts, tongue prodding his lips until he opens for you, giving you the freedom to explore. A groan rumbles his chest, the gentle vibration warming your lower belly. A gasp tears up your throat as he suddenly smooths his hands down your back, until they hook beneath your thighs and lift your feet off the ground.

Your legs wind around his waist, and he surprises you again by lowering you both to the earth. He gently guides you into his lap as he sits on the soft grass, legs outstretched. A quiet hum passes between frantic kisses as you settle into him, loincloth sliding on your already slick core.

The friction hits your clit just right, so you do it again, hips rocking along his hardened length. He moans beneath you, one hand smoothing down your back while the other trails up toward your neck. Long fingers tangle into the braids at the base of your skull and jerk your head back.

He peppers open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, forcing your face toward the sky with his firm hold. You pant above him, lower belly tightening. Your hands roam his body freely, fingertips tracing the line of his shoulders before skimming down his chest.

He shudders beneath you, hot breath stuttering against your skin. Your light touch doesn’t stop until it hits the straining heat contained within his loincloth. Delicate fingers cup his rock hard length with one hand while the other attempts to undo the string keeping him from you.

Suddenly, he pulls away from your neck, strong grip clasping your wrist. He peels your hand away, instead placing it above his racing heart. His cock twitches in protest, a tortured groan slipping past his lips as he sucks another bruise into your skin. He wants to take care of you first, no matter desperate he is to claim you.

“If we’re gonna do this, I need you to be a good girl and listen, okay?” He peels his lips from your neck to catch your eyes pointedly.

You nod quickly, already willing to do anything he asks. The corner of his lips lifts in a coy smirk. He loves you like this. So compliant, so eager to please. That fiery disobedience he cherishes in your everyday life is long gone, replaced with this version of you, his good girl that he loves to ravage.

There’s something so alluring about watching a strong woman give so much power to him. Giving so much trust to him. It drives him absolutely wild.

One of his hands leaves you to grab his queue, still slung over his shoulder. You simply watch for a moment, mesmerized as he lifts the tip, small tendrils curling in the air. You force down a swallow, throat suddenly feeling hoarse.

With trembling fingers, you reach toward your back and gently bring your queue forward. Your gaze is locked on the way it seems to reach for his. The two of you remain still for several long moments, ragged breaths mingling.

Neteyam hooks a fingertip beneath your chin, gently drawing your face up toward him. His eyes, heavy-lidded with emotion, bore into you. Silently asking for permission.

You grant it without hesitation, presenting your queue with shaky hands. He grips your wrist lightly and guides you forward, finally forming tsaheylu (the bond).

A gasp lodges in your throat at the immediate rush of feeling. It pours into you, sinks deep within your chest. You watch as Neteyam’s pupils dilate until the gold of his eyes is nothing but a thin ring. His lips part, ears flattening against his head from the intensity of it.

You can feel everything.

The way his arms are wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you to him as if afraid you might slip away. The strength of his thighs as they support your weight. The throb of his cock, so hard between his legs.

Your lungs quiver, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. It’s not just the physical, but the mental aspect of the bond that’s so overwhelming.

It devours you. His love, adoration, desire fills every tiny space within your soul, until you feel nothing but him.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He growls, suddenly shoving you to the ground.

You barely have time to gasp in a lungful of air before he’s on you, lips claiming yours fiercely. Your back bows from the earth, whimpers muffled by his brutal kiss. Your core ruts against his, legs still tightly wound around his hips.

He moans lowly, feeling both your pleasure and his as the material of your loincloths create a delicious friction. He forces his mouth away from yours, feeling feverish. The desire to explore every inch of your body with this new perspective propels him downward.

His lips leave a searing trail down your neck, your chest, all the way down your trembling stomach. Until he reaches your dripping core. Long fingers grip the string of your loincloth, easily ripping it in two.

“Nete—oh!” Your scolding is cut short as he wrenches your thighs apart, dipping between them to lick a firm line along the lips of your pussy.

A ragged moan echoes through the trees. Your chest blooms with heat, feeling the way he absolutely loves every second of devouring you.

Two fingers slip into your waiting heat, pussy fluttering against the unexpected intrusion. His tongue swirls a familiar pattern over your clit, knowing exactly how you like it. Your hips jerk up toward his face, and he groans with pleasure.

He can’t help but grind his cock against the soft grass, the need to be inside you almost painful. The ache between his legs transfers through tsaheylu, making you whimper with impatience.

Your hips wiggle beneath him as he picks up the pace. It’s too much and not enough all at once. All of your senses are on overdrive, so much stimulus feeding through your skin and the bond it’s almost enough to knock you out cold.

“Sit still.” He rips his lips away from you to bark the order, molten yellow narrowing into a glare before he resumes his ministrations.

One of his hands presses against your lower belly, holding you firmly to the earth. You mewl, unable to obey even if you wanted to. It’s just too much, muscles tightening with an intense impeding orgasm.

Your legs close instinctively, something within you trying to get away from the overstimulation. Neteyam growls against you, and you cry out, the low rumble flinging you closer to the edge.

He roughly jerks your thighs part, landing a firm slap against the soft skin of your inner thigh. Your hips jump from the pleasurable sting, another broken moan falling from your lips.

Hot moisture fills your eyes, cascading down long lashes as your head is thrown back, every muscle in your body tensing. You shatter around him, pussy clenching his fingers tightly as you come undone.

The orgasm rips through you so fiercely, you slump to the earth when it’s over, completely spent. He groans with pleasure, tongue lapping up every drop of your slick. His fingers remain inside you even as he raises up onto his knees.

In an instant his loincloth is nothing but a ripped pile of fabric, cast aside somewhere near yours.

One hand balls into a fist beside your head, supporting his weight as he pulls his other hand from your sopping pussy. You whine at the sudden emptiness, legs wrapping around his hips to draw him closer.

He chuckles darkly, head dropping to lavish your neck with kisses. “What do you want, baby girl?”

You whimper beneath him, hips jutting toward his. You will him to understand through the bond.

“Use your words, sevin (pretty).” His voice drops with the gentle order, the sound only making your abandoned pussy clench harder. He groans at the feeling.

“Need you, ‘Teyam.” You’re a whiney mess, tears streaming down your face, hips bucking into his wantonly. But you can’t find it within yourself to push past the delirious desire to care.

“Need me to fuck you? Is that it?” He grinds his swollen cock into you. The tip sides along your pussy lips, so close yet so far from where you want it.

You’re impatient, his teasing driving you wild. Your ankles lock around his hips and you try twisting out from under him to take matters into your own hands. He growls a low warning, long fingers clamping around your throat. He shoves you back into the earth, practically snarling down at you, eyes alight with feral need.

“Don’t test me, muntxa (mate).” He swallows your desperate moans with a searing kiss, before roughly pulling back.

“Need more, ‘Teyam.” You gasp, breathless.

“Tell me what you want, baby girl.” He drags his tip along your sex again, knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it.

“Need you to fuck me, ‘Tayem! Please!” You’re blubbering beneath him, all rational thought overcome by the emptiness deep in your womb.

“Okay, baby, you’re okay.” He coos gently, kissing away the tears as they stream down your cheeks.

He grips the base of his cock, gently entering you for the first time as a mated pair. Your cries echo overhead, trembling lungs unable to contain your noises of pure bliss.

Neteyam shudders above you, the wet heat of your pussy gripping him so tightly he fears he might cum already. He bottoms out with a torturously slow thrust, forehead pressing to yours for support. His chest heaves, heart thundering between his ribs.

“Move, ‘Teyam!” You beg, and he obeys.

His hips snap into yours fiercely, rocking your body against the grass with each hard slam of his cock. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the combined feeling of his body and yours too much.

You’re breathless, nothing but a whimpering mess as he pounds into you with a steady pace. Your back bows, bringing your belly flush with his. For a moment you’re impressed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to function enough through the intensity of the bond to keep the momentum he’s chosen.

You clench around him, and he moans, long and low in his chest.

“Shit, Y/N, gonna cum again for me?” His eyes blaze with passion, boring into you from above.

A broken whimper is all you can muster. You’ve never orgasmed more than once in a session, despite Neteyam’s best efforts. It’s been a goal he’s desperately tried to reach in recent weeks, and now it seemed to be a reality.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cum on your mate’s cock.” He grunts against your neck, sharp fangs dragging along your skin.

The slight sting catapults you into your orgasm, white hot pleasure ripping through you. Your scream is barely muffled by his victorious groan of pleasure. The walls of your pussy flutter around him, sending him over the edge along with you. He fills your womb with his release, teeth sinking gently into your skin.

The two of you are still for several long moments, chests heaving, basking in the afterglow of sensation through the bond. Once your walls stop clenching around his length, he slowly pulls out. His teeth release you, tongue soothing the small dots of blood left behind.

He falls to the earth beside you, instantly wrapping strong arms around your waist. He pulls you in, cradling you against his chest. You’re limp in his hold, spent from his thorough fucking. He plants a light kiss along your temple, resting his head above yours on the grass.

“I see you, Y/N.” His voice is a hoarse whisper, thick with emotion.

“I see you, Neteyam.” You nestle impossibly closer to his heart, ear pressed against his skin to feel the steady thrum.

The two of you quickly fall into a peaceful sleep, queues still connected, nothing but warmth and love passing through the bond.

[vixendoesstuff]

God, it's been a while since I've done digital art. If only I have a tablet, I might have an easier time drawing there instead of a tiny phone, but no use crying over spilt milk. Here's the reference sheet for Techno Branch!

Man do I love a quality drop.

I don't know how to make my drawings aesthetically pleasing like I've seen other artist do, so this is all you get lol. But anyway here's the boi!! (Ignore my handwriting, it's usually better than it is here, I just have difficty writing on a phone).

I was actually gonna make his Grey version and True Colours version, but I was an idiot and hadn't copied his lineart before I combined it with the colours. So, I might have to redo his entire lineart from scratch. Art is so fun :)

More info below the cut!

So Branch here is more dull and glow less brightly (or not at all) compared to his brethren. Probably a side effect of going Grey for so long. I doubt the Techno Trolls of today would know how to help him fully because, while they probably have a better way of helping traumatized Trolls than the Pop Trolls, they wouldn't exactly know how to bring Branch's True Colours back, as he doesn't know Techno culture and they don't know him well, and that grey Techno Trolls were a rarity in it of itself.

Back when he was Grey, at some point in time the heart on his chest was split in two due to relentless trauma. Ater regaining his True Colours did it combine again, but after being Grey for so long I doubt it'll ever be truly whole again (trauma, amirite?).

Combined with that he probably doesn't like looking at his arm lights, as it reminds him that he's different than the rest of the Pop Trolls, adding more hurt to his already painful life (yikes). So he covers it with arm warmers, and by the time he regained his happiness it became a habit to wear them.

I like to think that Branch likes being on the ground more than swimming, so he's constantly walking and climbing around. Hence, the crease marks on his fins. 'Cause I like to think that Techno Trolls are not built for long periods of standing up straight. And Branch has done the exact opposite of that. Building a bunker by himself is hard, imaging doing that with a pair of swimming flippers. My feet would cry in pain lol.

Anyway, that's all I have for now, if you have questions feel free to ask and I'll do my best to answer. With this out of the way, I can finally finish up my notes on what happens in World Tour. Hope you don't mind long paragraphs 'cause WHOO BOY lol.

[rocksibblingsau]

In Techno Branch AU World Tour, if anyone is curious, Branch alerts Trollex during their rave that his sonar equipment is picking up very large and very numerous objects moving towards the reef fast. His traps are slowing them down, but whatever they are they're barreling through them.

Branch showing Trollex this is why Trollex shuts 'One More Time' down in this timeline, and his traps are why Techno Trolls begin to evacuate, as Barb was slowed down and showed up to the party slightly late.

Branch leads the evacuation efforts and is able to get many but not all of the Techno Trolls to safety. Mostly children, the elderly, the sick, the disabled, etc who are most at risk. Branch was going to go back for Trollex but Synth convinced him to stay and he'd go in his place, saying that Branch is a better leader and he's a better scout.

Synth returns and reports that he saw trolls kidnapping all of Techno trolls, and the reef is wrecked. Branch decides he's going to set out to rescue everyone, which is how he ends up setting off.

I like to think he keeps arriving just after Poppy leaves places. Pennywhistle points out to him which way Poppy went, he arrives at Lonesome Flats just in time to see the Country Trolls get taken, he follows the river and runs into Chaz, then bumps into the other bounty hunters. I imagine in this AU Branch allies with Chaz, KPop and Reggaeton. Yes in this AU Chaz isn't as randomly evil as he is in Trollstopia/Remix Rescue.

They try to stop Barb, with a bit more of a fight than in the movie. We'll even let the Snack Pack take advantage of the chaos and help. Kpop and Reggaeton are fighting off Rock Trolls together, Biggie hits someone with a ukelele, Mr. Dinkles corners the one Rock Troll with a fear of worms, Satin and Chenille use their hair to trip people, Legsly gets two people to run at her then stretches up so they hit each other, I don't even need to TELL you what Guy Diamond and Tiny Diamond do, you all already know. Smidge literally just starts punching people and manages to throw a guy into the stands.

Chaz and Branch try to tag team Barb, with Branch using portable turntables to sample Chaz's Jazz so they can hit her with it from both sides. Branch gets zombified and Chaz attempts to overwrite the zombification with Jazz but it only succeeds in stunning Branch and preventing Barb from ordering him around. Poppy has her big epiphany seeing the bounty hunters working together and gives her speech about harmony taking different voices and breaks the strings. Everyone sings and then while everyone is celebrating and Trollex is telling Branch how cool he is, Poppy goes to see him because she realized just who he was.

[emmyrosee]

She’s been an absolute brat all day.

Atsumu can’t take it anymore, as cute as Hisako is in the flesh and bone, she’s one of the most stubborn little girls he’s ever met- granted, he’s only met like, three, but she’s on the top of that list.

He can’t blame her, she’s got Miya blood in her veins, but he’s never seen the effects this potent.

And today? She’s in a goddamned mood.

Atsumu puts her hair up, she takes it down because she doesn’t like it.

She doesn’t want to eat her breakfast because of how it’s arranged on the plate.

She didn’t want to brush her teeth because of how the toothbrush felt in her mouth.

Atsumu told her he’s going to leave without her, she said “that’s fine.”

She didn’t want to buckle her seatbelt, because the seatbelt made her skin itch.

(“No,” he snarls. “This is not a negotiation. You’re getting buckled.”

“But I don’t want to!” She pouts. “You n’ mommy nd’ uncle Samu tell me I don’t gotta do stuff I’m on-comfter-ble with!

“This is different and Miya Hisako, if you do not listen to me, so help me gods-“)

He’s at his limit.

How can she be so precious with her mother, her uncle, the other uncles who is on Atsumu’s team, her granny, literally everyone but him?

Menace.

It takes two hours to get Hisako ready and fed and in the car for school, Atsumu is sure he’s got grey hairs now, but he’s thankful to at least have her in the car. The ride is silent and tense, with Atsumu’s white knuckles gripping the wheel with the force of 1000 gods. In the mirror, he sees her little arms crossed, her lips in a little scowl, and she looks so much like him when he was a kid it’s hilarious- if he ever acted like this as a kid though, he needs to send his poor mother a muffin basket ASAP.

Finally, finally, they’re able to get to school without getting into another spat, and Atsumu sighs and parks his car, but before he gets out to let Hisako out, he turns in his seat with a soft smile.

“Listen, baby,” he says sweetly, trying to extend an olive branch to his damned six year old. “I… I want you to have a good day today, okay?” His tips his head when the pout etched on Hisako’s lips soften. “Do you wanna tell daddy what’s wrong? What I can do to help?”

Hisako sighs and fiddles with her tiny fingers. Atsumu nods softly in encouragement, ready for his babygirl to confide in her favorite person and reach a resolution that would help them both through the day, and-

“It’s you, daddy.”

Uh.

What.

“Excuse me!”

“It’s you!” She whines again, her legs kicking out in her seat for emphasis.

Atsumu is convinced he’s never been more offended in his life. He knows his little girl could be a tiny devil, she was her father’s spawn, but this?

Horrendous betrayal.

“What the heck did I do!”

“Other than breathin’, nothin’!” She grumbles, the scowl on her lip out once again. “You just get on my nerves sometimes!”

“You little-!” He unbuckles himself to fully turn in his seat. “You don’t even know what that means, okay?!”

“Uh-huh I do!” She crosses her tiny arms, “you get on uncle ‘samu’s nerves all t’ time! He tells me!! He goes ‘your dad’s real good at gettin’ on my nerves!’” She huffs, “and now I ‘gree!”

“That’s not-! That’s-! You’re-!” While Atsumu scrambles for words, Hisako is blinking at him with the most wide, angry eyes, and he growls deep in his throat when he can’t find the words to convey how salty he is. Scrambling, he escapes his way out of the car to open the door to his back seat, brows furrowed.

“I hope you have the day you deserve!” He snips, fingers diving in to tickle her sides and up to her neck, and he tries not to soften at the sound of her laughter. “I hope, that none of your markers work, and all of your crayons are broken, and all your letters are messed up!” Tiny hands shove at his, bouncing in her seat to try and fight him away.

“Daddy, no!” She squeals.

“I hope that all your papers get crinkled, and I hope the lunch uncle Osamu packed you doesn’t come with a note! I hope that your friends only want you to swing when you play jump rope, and I hope you get sand in your shoe in the sandbox, you little snot!”

With that, he retracts his hands and unbuckles her seat, still trying to keep an angry facade, despite the fact that seeing her smile is more than enough to break that feeling. Quickly, Atsumu unbuckles her seat and pulls her up and out of the car, passing her backpack to her with a tiny ruffle of her hair. “Get outta here.”

Atsumu cards his hair back and looks to the sky for whoever was listening for patience, but that silent prayer is interrupted by a gentle tug on his sweatpants.

“What?”

She flashes him her biggest set of puppy eyes, and Atsumu quirks a brow. “You didn’t give me a hug…” her fingers clasp in front of her innocently. “‘N I don’t like that. You still give mommy hugs when she mad at you.”

The vein in his forehead throbs but he chuckles at his little girl’s words, because sure, maybe she is right, the little shit. He bends down to scoop her into his big arms, squeezing her tight with a playful groan of effort while she curls her arms around his neck.

“I do hope you have a good day, princess,” he hums, kissing her temple. “Even if I made you mad this morning with my breathing.” Hisako giggles into his neck, and with another kiss to her head, he finally puts her down and sends her back off with her teacher, sighing at the little terror he calls his daughter.

He gets back in the car. He picks up his phone. Immediately, his fingers fly over the keyboard to dial his brothers number.

“It’s 7 in the morning, one of ya better be dying-“

“YOU TELL YOUR NIECE I GET ON YOUR NERVES?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, he hears his twin, his younger twin, the twin he should’ve eaten in the womb, chuckle.

“Yeah,” he says cooly, like this hasn’t been the lead cause of chaos for the first four hours of Atsumu’s day.

“Sometimes, you manage to piss me off with just breathin’, ‘tsumu.”

based on this tiktok hehehe

[daigina-3]

Steve comes home to a sacrificial ritual being set up in his living room.

Or that’s what it looks like.

He kicks the door closed and chucks his keys and wallet in the little bowl by the door like always, pushes his glasses up- they always slip down when he fiddles with the lock- and rounds the corner to head for the kitchen via the living room.

Except there’s a bunch of candles, a mix of black and cream colors, set up in the living room. Most are in plastic candelabras- bought from the DollarTree, maybe- and a big black blanket is spread in the center of the room, the couches pushed back from their usual center placement.

“What the fuck?” Steve calls, knowing exactly who’s going to answer because only one person could have done this-

“Steve!” Eddie rounds the corner from the other hall, his arms full. “You’re home early.”

“Uh- yeah-“ Eddie side steps past him, sparing a quick kiss on the cheek, which Steve returns, confused. “Are we.. sacrificing something? Or is this like a dark-themed romantic surprise because you know how I feel about wax-“

Eddie laughs and starts laying the things in his arms down on the blanket, forming a perfect semi-circle on the floor in the center of the room. A little plastic axe, a fake plastic branch, a mini ukelele, a toy sword, among others.

“No, definitely not-“

Steve cuts him off and, realizing something is missing, whips his head around in minor panic. “Where’s-“

“Heeeeeere she comes!” A voice calls from the same hall Eddie appeared from a moment ago and Steve recognizes the voice before he sees who it is, heart unclenching from his momentary panic. He’s relieved to see Gareth- a chubby little baby in his hands, held high above his head like he’s Rafiki taking Simba to Pride Rock. “The lady of the hour!”

Behind Gareth, shuffling and staring up at the baby he’s holding aloft are Dustin, Will, and Jeff, looking like occultists following their sacred baby-leader to the altar.

“Hi Gareth- hi guys,” Steve pushes down crazy helicopter dad mode and reaches up. When she sees Steve, Sam’s eyes light up with recognition- a smile breaks out on her round little face, all dribble and just one or two teeth that recently started coming in. She screeches in excitement m and reaches back to Steve with her tiny, tiny little hands- tiny little hands that might as well have Steve’s heart in a vice grip.

“Hi hi hi, Sammy,” Steve coos, taking the squealing, arm flailing ball of excitement from Gareth’s hands.

Steve will literally never get tired of how excited she is to see him, how even when he goes for a two minute bathroom break Sam screeches at the sight of him returning- will wiggle out of Eddie’s arms or bang on her high chair until Steve picks her up.

(Much to his husbands dismay- Eddie jokes that he’s nothing but a source of bottles to Sam and while they both know that’s not actually true… Steve can’t help feeling a little itty bitty bit smug when she kicks her way out of Eddie’s grip and reaches for his nose or glasses to tug on in delight).

Steve settles the smiley little butterball on his hip, rubbing little circles on her side as she grabs at the collar of his t-shirt. It only takes a couple seconds for Eddie to drift toward them both, attaching himself with an arm around Steve’s waist and Sam tucked between them.

Steve leans into the warmth of Eddie and the way he’s wedging Sam close to them both.

Around them, Gareth and Jeff light the candles around the room while Will and Dustin find a spot to set up Will’s phone.

It dawns on Steve- “Oh! Is this the Gundam and Gadgets thing for Sam’s first birthday?”

Eddie can’t hold back his laugh and he knocks Steve’s head gently with his own. “You know it’s Dungeons and Dragons, you old coot,” he says lightly, his breath tickling Steve’s cheek.

Steve smirks. He knows, but he likes to hear Eddie’s exasperated laughter when he calls Orcs “Shrek guys” or asks if the scores work like golf. He bonks Eddie’s head back lightly.

Eddie had mentioned it- said he’d seen a thing online but Steve had imagined picking papers out of a hat or something, maybe spinning a wheel.

Eddie twists a finger in Sam’s curls, his mouth pursed. “Paper in a hat? That would hardly be appropriate for such a tremendous occasion.”

Sam slaps at Eddie’s finger, grabbing it and yanking it down to her mouth. Eddie lets her slobber on it with the indifference of a man who’s had way, way worse than baby slobber on his hands.

“Our little Samwise is choosing her class- her lifelong craft that she’ll work to perfect. You can’t choose that with paper.”

Steve glances up from where he’s watching Sam gnaw on Eddie with her little ridiculously tiny hands wrapped around his. He knows the rings are non-toxic, made Eddie get them all checked, but still wonders if the metal is good for her teething gums.

“Isn’t that right, Sammy-fries?,” Eddie wiggles the baby- still gumming on his finger- into his arms. “This way she gets to choose what she gravitat- OW, fff-“

“Language,” Steve chides.

“-forks, Sammy, those teeth are deadly! Jesus, what’re you gonna do when you have a full set?” Eddie shakes his hand, inspecting his finger where two little red indents mark where Sam had bitten down. Hard.

She never touches her expensive doctor recommended teething rings, but biting on hands and fingers til they bleed? Her specialty.

Sam giggles as Eddie shows her his boo-boo and pretends to be fatally wounded.

“Candles are all done,” Jeff announces. “And Erica texted. She wants us to Skype her in after.

“Oh- Lucas and Mike made us promise to record it, too,” Will finally steps back from where he and Dustin have carefully propped the phone against a teddy bear elevated by books on a side table, looking like it could fall any second and angled perfectly at where Eddie is setting Sam down, equidistant on the blanket from each of the symbols surrounding her.

Steve recognizes some of the things- the sword is probably fighter, the little branch is probably meant to be a mage staff? Or maybe the other magic class, Druid? There might be more classes that use staffs or branches though. The ukelele is easy, that one’s a bard- Steve knows it’s Eddie’s favorite class- and a few other things that are obviously to do with fighting or something but he can’t really tell what’s meant to symbolize what.

Behind him, Gareth dims the lights just a little and saddles up next to Steve “This is gonna be so fuckin-“

“-Language!” Chorus Will and Dustin at the same time-

“Sorry- fricken awesome.”

The excitement among all the guys is palpable and Steve finds himself getting wrapped up in it too- they’re all sitting down around the special little blanket, Dustin and Jeff leaning across Will to make bets (Jeff’s money is on fighter but Dustin’s heart is set on Rogue) and Eddie sets Sam up, smoothing her hair down and gently explaining to her the sacred ritual they’ve set up for her. She barely understands much more than “yes” “no” or “dinner” but she looks up at Eddie with the biggest, most interested eyes a baby can have. Steve gets it- that’s probably how he looks at Eddie too, most of the time. Wide-eyed and love-struck.

A little ‘ping’ sounds softly as Dustin hits record on the phone and Eddie holds Sam up.

“Today,” he says like he’s making a speech to a crowd of several hundred rather than a living room of five dudes and a baby, “marks a special day in the young life of Samantha Munson-Harrington. Also known as Sam, Sammy, Spammy, Samwise, Samfries or Spud. She has reached the end of her first calendar year and it is time to choose the path down which she will walk for the years to come.”

He sets her down carefully equidistant from all of the symbols and scoots back among light cheers from the guys- including Steve, who gives a little ‘woo!’

“Aaah-oo,” Sam claps.

The guys start beckoning Sam this way or that- Gareth trying to get her attention towards the little axe and Will tapping the floor in front of the little play sword.

After a lot of looking around the room at all the crazy grown adults yelling at her, Sam surveys the items in front of her. Gareth’s little calls of “over here! Sam! Sam-erino, look at the cute little deadly weapon!” get more insistent and Will’s tapping is almost drowned out by Dustin making weird bird noises, as though cawing like a raven is gonna do anything but weird the kid out.

Finally, she crawls forward and reaches out her hand-

She grabs the ukelele.

Everyone goes wild.

Steve laughs at the way they all cheer anyway, even though Sam didn’t choose what they wanted, and Eddie scoops her up with the ukelele in hand, smothering her plump little cheeks with kisses.

“A bard,” Dustin bounces from where he sits cross cross applesauce. “She’s a little bard!”

They Skype Erica in- after, of course, they spend some time passing the baby around so they each get their turn cooing and snuggling their new little bard. Jeff holds Sam and plucks the ukelele in her arms, making her eyes go wide at the sound it makes. They laugh as she searches for what made the noise and aww appropriately as she discovers that instruments make sounds, slapping her little fingers against the strings with Jeff’s help.

Erica’s busy with her life as a new lawyer, as always, but never too busy for Hellfire. She answers on the second ring.

“Okay, nerds, I have a case in about fifteen so don’t waste my time-“

“Bard!” Eddie announces, holding Sam up to the phone so Erica can see her. She still hasn’t let go of the ukelele- it has, as all things must inevitably, ended up in her mouth. She’s chewing on the frets and smiling at the phone like she knows the camera’s on her.

(She always smiles for the camera. She’s a little show-boater like that.)

Erica makes a couple snarky comments about how she knew Dustin’s as gonna lose their bet- which, not surprising; they always have some kind of bet going and Dustin’s always losing- and she blows Sam a few kisses before she has to head out.

Will sends the video off to the group chat Hellfire has and spends the next few minutes laughing over Lucas and Dustins responses.

Sam ends up in Steve’s lap, doing her new little tick where she stands and bounces up and down. Steve keeps his hands on her arms for support and showers her with little kisses every few minutes- both as a little congratulations and because he can’t help it.

Jeff breaks out the beers. Eddie takes up the little ukelele, which definitely still has some Sam-spit on it- and plays a couple songs. He starts with her current favorite- one he and Steve play around the house for her to make her smile.

“I wanna rock n’ roll all night, and party every day-“

Sam goes nuts, squealing and dancing until she falls back into Steve’s lap and gets up to do it again.

The guys join in- all six of them singing (at different stages of off-key) to this bright little light, the center of Steve and Eddie’s whole world, of all of their worlds, really, who’s pulled them all in and made their lives a little warmer. Made their rag-tag family a little bigger.

“Happy birthday, Sam.” Steve whispers into her curls. “Little bard baby.”