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#THE HAPPY MUSIC AMONGST THE FLAMES???????????
sexysilverstrider · 10 months
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HE IS PROPOSING!!! IN THE FIRE!!!
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mickyschumacher · 3 months
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can you please do a Carlos imagine where Carlos and Y/N are out partying after a race. Y/N gets approached by a drunk and inappropriate guy who either trys to touch her says some inappropriate things, and Carlos steps in. He’s the crazy protective boyfriend, and he ends up getting into a fight with the guy. Carlos gets cut by a broken beer bottle during the fight, so Y/N gets to care for his wound, and basically gets to play nurse on Carlos
𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after winning the australian grand prix, carlos and you decide to take on some partying. what you didn't expect was to end the night nursing your boyfriend.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slightly suggestive at the end (16+), depictions of blood and fighting, reader is harassed by creepy ugly disgusting man, mentions of alcohol, small consolation, poor humour, google translated spanish by yours truly, fluff, and lastly, shitty proof-reading
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x girlfriend!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.3k
𝐀/𝐍: so so sorry it took this long! i didn't go fully for smut because idk if you wanted it but i'm happy to make a part two in the near future! hope you enjoyed it ♡︎
𝐀/𝐍: welcome to my drabble/blurb phase because i, for the life, of me cannot produce long fics consistently despite constantly having ideas! although i am redefining the meaning of drabbles and blurbs with this word count :)
𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The Australian Grand Prix. The third race into the season. Max had won the last two, predictably setting the tone for the rest of the year. Carlos, on the other hand, needed to up his game.
You were together when you found out he had lost his seat for the following year. Boy, were you gutted. Carlos had done everything in his power, forever compared to Ferrari's golden boy. He liked Charles, but what the fuck was he supposed to do with this type of treatment? And to make matters worse, Lewis was a great driver pulling great results in shit car.
Carlos needed to win. He needed to be the most wanted in that damn paddock. And while Max was winning so far, the universe often has it's odd ways.
Even if that was in the form of fiery flames on Max's brakes in the opening laps.
You remembered it as clear as day.
You were in as much disbelief as anyone else, eyes widened as Max's car slowed, grey smoke billowing out of the rear while even the Haas and Williams surpassed him.
Your eyes hesitantly moved to the large screens in the garage, zoning in on the number one row to see Carlos' name sprawled next to it. A gasp fell from your lips, eyes averting to a shouting Oñoro before you hugged each other with shaky hands.
Your heart was in your ears, thudding in echoes. Hands sticky at your sides as you watched the the last lap. You knew the outcome. Yet you couldn't stomach it. With a tight throat, you weren't sure if you going to throw up or break into tears.
Instead of your heartbeat, you found the roars of Ferrari deafening. Flashes of white cameras mixed with the air as the sun warmed your golden boy. Looking up through your lashes, you caught his gleaming smile before catching the feel of his lips on yours.
Carlos had won. He was the most wanted driver in the damn paddock.
And that deserved a celebration.
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You and Carlos weren't ones for partying. Not unless it was with the right people. And there was nothing more right than a Grand Prix winner and all his supporters in one place.
It was packed. Bodies so close together, full of sweaty rivulets amongst the humidity and strobe lights. The music felt foundational as it coursed from your feet and into your veins.
Carlos watched you dance in front of him. You were remarkable. Skin so flushed that in even in the flickering lights, you radiated. Your hair stuck to your glittering skin, but nowhere near as close as the dress you had worn for him.
He smiled softly at the cheeky gaze your gave him, large hand reaching out to grab your waist. His cheek skimmed your face as he pressed a kiss onto your cheek. "You're killing me."
"All in a day's work," you quipped, hanging your hands around his neck. You could hear Carlos' huff of amusement over the pulsing music. You held those brown puppy eyes, drinking them in, you smiled. "I'm proud of you, cariño."
The humour on his face faded, replaced by a moment of fulfilment. His other hand moved to caress your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. His thumb moved in small soothing circles. "Thank you."
His words sounded like a whisper in the loudness, but you could hear how much it meant to him as much as you could see it.
You lifted your head up, bringing your lips to his. Carlos' grip on your waist tightened, his own lips quirking into a smile as you kissed him with the entirety of your heart. Gone was any trace of alcohol or humidity in the air. All you could feel, smell, and taste was Carlos. And you loved it.
Breathlessly, you begrudgingly moved away from Carlos, taking a moment to come up for air.
"Let me get you a drink, hermosa," Carlos offered, grinning at the jut of your lips as you pouted. "I'll be back soon. Fastest pitstop ever."
You laughed loudly, throwing your head back, entirely unaware of the mystical trance you had brought Carlos into. With the nod of your head, you gestured for him to go on.
Watching the retreating figure of Carlos, you found yourself amused and entertained at the sight of Lando's valiant DJing efforts. Another driver who was enjoying his first podium of the year.
You were only moving lightly to the music, waiting for Carlos with little patience. But the sudden cold shiver that had travelled up your body had set the alarms off in your mind. Your throat felt dry at the unfamiliar hand on your shoulder and your body felt uneasy upon looking at the sleazy stranger.
"Hello, sweetheart! How are you doing?" The Australian accent was exceptionally loud over the music and the alcohol reeked, particularly from the beer bottle in his hand.
You winced, trying to keep a fake smile at bay. "Great," you murmured, attempting to move your shoulder away from him but the man's fingers were latched.
"Aw, now don't be like that," he retorted, taking a step closer to you. "Let's dance... get to know each other a little, hmm?"
The hairs of your body stood straight. "I... my boyfriend will be here soon, then we can get to know each other."
You wanted to shrivel into a ball at the sickening laugh that had fallen from the stranger's lips. "Oh, he doesn't need to know anything. Come on, baby," he egged, bottled-hand suddenly finding your waist, "can't you feel how much I want you?"
Bile found it's way up your throat but you managed to keep it down. "No, I don't," you said sharply, "you need to leave."
You tried to move your hands away from him, pushing at his chest, but his grip was only getting tighter, moving down your body in the most repulsing manner. What the hell? Suddenly you felt like you were all alone in this club. Where the hell was everyone?
"She said leave."
You snapped your head to the familiar Spanish voice, relief flooding into your system but only momentarily as the scenario escalated at an unearthly speed.
Your eyes widened, feeling a mix of warm and cold air rush past your body as the stranger was ripped off of you and thrown to the ground. Shit.
You couldn't gather what was even going on. Carlos was straddling the man, pummelling him repeatedly. The music, you think, has stopped. A crowd had formed. Lando and Oñoro had quickly made their way, trying to diffuse the situation.
Your heart skipped a few beats as Carlos took a few hits himself. And the sound of glass shattering bordered on you having a heart attack. Fuck, fuck, this was bad. You could see people pull out their phones, recording, which only baffled you even more.
You aided Oñoro in pulling Carlos away, sucking in a sharp breath at the string of angry curses falling your boyfriend's mouth, moving between English to Spanish. "¡Jodido gilipollas! ¿Quién coño te crees que eres? That's my girlfriend, you creep. ¡Nunca la toques con esas asquerosas manos! ¡Te joderé si te vuelvo a ver!" Fucking asshole! Who the fuck do you think you are? That's my girlfriend, you creep. Don't ever touch her with those disgusting hands! I will fuck you up if I ever see you again!"
"Es suficiente, Carlos," you appeased, urging him to stay away as you began to spot the runs of blood down the sides of his face and neck, mixed in with the loose beer. That's enough, Carlos.
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You still weren't sure what was going on. You had no idea where Oñoro had gone after sending you and Carlos to your hotel room because, God forbid, Carlos' PR team had a lot of work to do, legally and socially.
Lando had briefly dropped in, grabbing a first aid kid from the hotel staff before leaving with Oñoro.
You quietly watched Carlos walk into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, water covering his body as he had washed off all the beer and blood.
Carlos captured the pained look on your face, eyeing the patches of red skin across his chest and the nicks on his face. He sighed, holding in a wince as he sat next to you. "I'm fine, hermo–"
"You are an idiot," you cut him off, handing him the ice pack you had made from the hotel's materials. "Hold this on your chest, it'll reduce the swelling."
You leaned in the further, trying to take a better look at him. A frown made it's way onto your face. The more you looked, the worse you felt. The red patches on his chest, the bruised cheek, and the worst of all, the horrid gash across his hand.
Carlos carefully watched you chew your lip, tediously grabbing his injured hand, inspecting the wound. The pain which had gotten worse in midst of his shower quickly began to dissipate at your touch. If there was any stinging pain, he couldn't feel it, even when you had cleaned the gash.
"Why didn't you call me?" Carlos queried, breaking the thick silence that had been held over you.
You paused your cleaning, briefly flickering your eyes to his face before quickly averting in the fear you would be sucked up into a whole new problem in those luring brown eyes. Furrowing your brows, you resumed. "I had it under control," you lied with a determined stubbornness.
Carlos laughed softly in amusement before wincing at the stretch of his bruised cheek. He sighed. "I don't doubt that you did," he started, hand reaching out to gently move your chin towards him, "but you should've come and found me. Or even Oñoro or Lando."
You couldn't help but return a sigh, hesitantly putting the antiseptic onto his hand, awaiting any jerking reaction. You realised he was waiting for some sort of response, ignoring any pain shooting up his fingers. "I know," you told him, "I just... froze."
Carlos softened his eyes. "Cãrino... I'm sorry you had to go through that. I-I should've stayed. Are you okay?"
You gave him a pointed look. He had already asked you that, mere seconds after you had pulled him away from the fight. You held back an eye roll at the raised brows Carlos gave you. "I'm fine, Carlos. I'm not the one beat up."
"If I got there any later..." Carlos trailed off, unsure if he was sick or angry at the thought.
You paused, almost falling into the same train of thought but you shook it off. You grabbed the roll of bandage, unravelling the strip of white around his hand. "But you didn't," you reassured, giving him a small smile. Carlos smiled, nodding in agreement.
"Can we exterminate men?"
A laugh quickly fell from your lips at the question. God, how many times have you thought about that one before?
You finished wrapping the bandage, tying a small secure knot before grabbing the ice pack from his other hand. Inching closer to him, you gently pressed the ice on his cheek. "And what about you then?"
Carlos raised a brow, using his free hand to pull you onto his lap. You gasped at the coldness on your waist as waves of cold flushed your body. "I'm excluded from this... obviously."
"Obviously," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "Are you sure though? Because I wouldn't mind it," you teased.
"Really?" Carlos narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer to you. "You wouldn't mind no kisses, no hugs, no... touches?"
All of a sudden your throat felt dry at his words. His cold fingers ghosting down the side of your neck with a following trail of goosebumps. And yet you felt hot.
You pretended to ponder for a minute, trying your absolute best to ignore the brown eyes watching you or the fingers grazing your chest. "I think I'm okay with it," you whispered.
Carlos stopped moving his hand and gave you a dry look. "Well I'm not," he childishly retorted before bringing his lips to yours.
His lips were soft as per usual, taking you by surprise with the intensity of this kiss. You could feel his arm tighten around your waist, warmth spreading across your body as his bandaged hand gently held your face.
You were melting at his touch. His tongue was navigating your mouth, consuming your very being. You could feel his hand adjust you on his lap, letting you feel something else entirely.
Carlos' breath hitched at the feel of you hand snaking up his bare thigh, inching closer and closer to where he was aching the most. His hand shot out, covering your own through the towel he was wearing.
You parted from his lips, raising a brow with a panting chest. You could see his lust-ridden eyes, practically begging for you do to do more.
"Take it back."
You mended your brows. What on earth was he... oh.... oh.
With a firm sigh, you relented. "Fine, you won't be exterminated. I guess... it would be hard to live without you."
Carlos grinned, satisfied with your answer. "True... and we would have the hardest job of all."
"And what's that?" You asked, eagerly awaiting his response with perked ears.
Carlos' injury-free hand stretched out, moving your hair behind your ears before grazing past your cheek and landing on your lips. He smiled widely. "To repopulate the earth, hermosa."
You gasped, instinctively hitting his chest. "Carlos!"
The Spaniard dramatically winced at the action, holding his bandaged hand to his chest.
"Mierda," you cursed, "I'm so sorry, cariño." Your eyes darted around, ensuring you hadn't made anything worse.
Carlos tapped your thigh, directing your attention to him. "Can we go back to repopulating the earth now?"
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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spookyserenades · 9 months
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Trouvaille - Chapter Thirteen
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Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 16.9k
Trouvaille Masterlist
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Updates on the 7th of each month
Hi loves! A little late on this New Year update, but I' m happy to be able to share Chapter Thirteen with you all! This is a fluffy, sweet update, with a side of angst and a little spiciness I hope you all had lovely holidays, and have the best 2024. As always, I love to hear what you all think of these updates, and again, thank you for your patience with this update. Lots of love from Dana! 💕
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Steadying her breaths, Y/N slid the skirt fabric of her cranberry-colored velvet dress between her fingertips, shuddering involuntarily as another family came through the front door of the rec center, bringing an icy blast of outside air into the lobby. In her other hand, she had some sort of wintery champagne cocktail, a sprig of rosemary tickling the tip of her nose every time she took a sip from the fluted glass. Compared to Taehyung’s previous photography expo, there were twice as many people. It was during the inky evening, and everyone was dressed up in their holiday finery– jazzy Christmas music filling the festive space. Currently, she was standing by herself towards the back of the room, breaking away from Taehyung to get a fresh drink, and to collect her thoughts. 
As if on cue, a shiver rolled down her spine delicately, her eyes catching sync with a pair of narrowed, sharp, golden-green eyes from across the joyfully decorated room, all of the breath being forcibly withdrawn from her lungs. Everything around her turned to a blur; her cheeks had flames licking at the flesh, and her heart swelled three times its size behind her ribcage. Ever-so-subtly, Yoongi lifted his champagne flute a few centimeters into the air in acknowledgement, sending a smirk and a wink her way. 
Y/N felt the flush in her cheeks heat up the back of her neck, too, cutting the chill that was periodically blowing into the room. She nervously cast a wide-sweeping glance around the room, paranoid that someone had caught the brief, but charged interaction– but amongst the sea of dozens of hybrids and their families, she couldn’t spot any of her other six boys. Which was odd, no doubt, considering their clinginess or the fact that at least one of them was always hanging out around the minibar.
She visually located the leopard hybrid once again, his focus still on her with great amusement all over his delicate face, and Y/N allowed herself to fully take in her love’s appearance leisurely, now that she was sure she wasn’t being carefully watched by one of the others. 
Apart from his sparkling, sharp feline eyes, his hair was tucked behind his ears meticulously in feathered pitch-dark, shoulder length waves, showing off several shiny silver hoops threaded through his earlobes. His spotted ears, of course, perked up and alert as if trying to listen for her shallow breaths from where he leaned against the wall by the bathrooms, his elegant figure on display in the black satin button down he was in. Dragging her eyes down his body slowly, meaningfully, she subconsciously bit down on her lip as she soaked in the way his dress pants hugged his slim legs, the way one of his strong, talented hands was tucked into a pocket, before her once-over returned back to Yoongi’s stunning face, fixated on the fullness of his mouth. 
At once, she remembered the way his lips felt against her own. First sweet, ripe with fulfillment– then turning feverish, desperate, wanting. Instinctively, perhaps, Yoongi’s tongue flicked out to moisten the flesh of his lower lip, Y/N recalling how it felt to have it gliding against her own, and before she could get too lost in that memory, she promptly snapped out of it and shot Yoongi a stubborn scowl. He was teasing her on purpose, she knew it.
Turning on the heel of her black pumps, Y/N tried her best to rein in her lewd thoughts by stuffing a Christmas cookie into her mouth, nearly choking on the dryness of it. It was probably high time for her to go and find Taehyung again, anyways, and with her and Yoongi’s relationship status both still murky and very much a secret, she didn’t want to risk getting too close to the leopard hybrid that night. Not when she felt like pushing him into the nearest supply closet to kiss the wind out of him. 
“Darling, pass me one of those gingerbread dudes, will you?” Y/N flinched in total shock when she felt a clever palm slide across her upper back and settle on one of her shoulder blades, the clean, outdoorsy scent of Hoseok filling her senses and making her stiffen awkwardly. 
Wordlessly, Y/N plucked a cookie off of the platter, peering upwards and sideways as she offered it to her fox hybrid as normally as she could. As if she wasn’t just thinking about Yoongi’s tongue down her throat. 
Hoseok’s brilliant cocoa eyes were glittering mischievously, all of the multicolored lights decked around the room making his wavy mahogany hair seem more auburn than ever. He, like Yoongi, was dressed smartly, a stark difference to his typical athleisure. A simple white button down, an even simpler sporty charcoal blazer, and matching dress pants. Hoseok did have some funky, embellished loafers on, however, true to his tendencies to pick out flashy or colorful statement pieces for his wardrobe. He looked amazing– sexy, dangerously so. 
“You see Tae-tae’s pictures yet?” Hoseok asked over a bite of cookie, leaning his hip against the minibar and glancing around the room. ‘Tae-tae’ was a sort of condescending nickname Hoseok had begun to use in reference to the Kodiak hybrid, but Y/N secretly found it kind of cute. 
“No, I haven’t. He said he wanted to make sure they put up the right frames and set it up the way he wanted it before he showed me,” Y/N reached up to adjust the slightly-askew collar of Hoseok’s dress shirt, her icy fingertips brushing over the golden skin of the base of his throat, the fox hybrid shivering almost imperceptibly at the contact. 
Still, with her focus on Hoseok, she could feel Yoongi’s eyes lingering on her burning holes into the back of her head. And as if Hoseok could read her mind, he cleared his throat, Y/N focusing back on the pools of caramel swirling around in the fox hybrid’s irises; inquisitive, intelligent, and kind. 
“So, how are things? You know, with… Yoongi?” Hoseok purposefully whispered the leopard hybrid’s name, though Y/N had no doubt that even then, Yoongi was likely completely dialed into what her and Hoseok were talking about it. Y/N winced, remembering the brief text conversation she had with Hoseok nearly a week ago. 
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On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.
Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi? 
Y/N: um, what do you mean?
Heart racing, Y/N felt nausea welling up in her gut as she watched three little dots appear on her screen, Hoseok speedily crafting a response. Everything that happened between her and Yoongi was in the music room, which was professionally soundproofed, but there was an off-chance that Hoseok might have caught them in the hall in front of her bedroom moments ago– and if that was the case, they would be screwed. 
Hoseok 🦊: Idk, things seem weird between you guys. Tense
Hoseok 🦊: Did you have a fight or something???
Y/N let out a breath that could blow down a house. So, Hoseok hadn’t caught her and Yoongi red-handed before they could figure out how to explain their… changed relationship dynamic. Once again, she had raced to conclusions. Y/N had been an idiot not to realize that the other hybrids definitely picked up on the odd distance her and Yoongi were suspended in. 
Y/N: Yeah, I guess we had a few disagreements recently. I talked to him tonight though, we’ve patched everything up
Hoseok 🦊: Oh, good! I don’t like seeing you so sad 🥺
Hoseok 🦊: and Yoongi’s cooking has been bland or bitter lately. Even the coffee sucks
Y/N: you could always do the cooking you know, honey
Y/N: thank you for worrying about me Hoseok 🦊💕
Y/N bit her still kiss-swollen lower lip thinking about her fox hybrid, probably cozy in his bed in the basement, the space heater no doubt blasting, sleepily texting her to make sure she was okay after her piano lesson with Yoongi. Contrary to Hoseok’s teasing nature, he was always looking out for Y/N in his own way. It made her feel warm all over, as she reached for her nightstand to switch off her lamp, when her phone chimed again– this time, a message from a different sender. 
Yoongi 👼🏻: sleep well.
Y/N: love you, angel 
Yoongi 👼🏻: I love you too, my silly girl
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“Earth to Y/N,” Hoseok chuckled, squeezing the meat of one of her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, Y/N realizing that she had been staring at the fox hybrid’s neck absently while she got lost in her thoughts. “Where did you just go?”
Using a gentle tap on his wrist to bat Hoseok’s hand away from her heated cheeks, she snapped back to the present, cocking her head and resuming her task of fixing the collar of his shirt. 
“I’m right here, honey,” Y/N murmured, trying to figure out how to either dodge his earlier question or figure out how to dance around the truth. “Everything’s fine now. Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t burnt the coffee lately?”
Hoseok snorted, hands shooting out to wiggle his fingers against her ribcage, tickling her sides and making her giggle in response. Concern dissolved from Hoseok’s eyes at the sound, one of his russet ears flickering playfully, relenting on his tickling attack by hooking one of his elbows around Y/N’s. 
“Let’s look around. I think Jinnie misses you,” Hoseok changed the subject, dropping his serious demeanor and going right back to his default cheeriness with that whistle tone of his. 
“Oh really? You didn’t miss me at all, just Seokjinnie?” Y/N teased, feeling Hoseok’s full tail brush the back of her thighs through her tights. “Here I was, missing you, and you just came to ferry me over to someone else!”
Again, Hoseok snorted, though Y/N could swear a peachy blush bloomed across his cheekbones. 
“You know, darling, you’re getting better and better at flirting these days. Maybe you’ll be on my level in a few months,” Hoseok quipped, making Y/N use their hooked elbows to nudge his side in embarrassment. 
“Who said I was flirting?” Y/N mumbled, under her breath and to no one in particular. 
Hoseok whistled again, towing her along as they weaved through the crowd of hybrids and their families. Amongst the sea of bodies in the room, the only other hybrid of hers that Y/N could spot was Jeongguk, who’s antlers were visible towards the front door of the rec center. Y/N suspected he was attempting to sneak out for a smoke. 
Hoseok dragged her to a corner of the room, near another table full of Christmas cookies and cocktails, where Seokjin and Jimin were lingering with little cups of alcoholic eggnog. Both of them, of course, looked impossibly handsome, their ears immediately perking up as they no doubt caught Y/N’s scent. 
Seokjin turned first, dressed in a navy suit Y/N helped him pick out to compliment his fiery eyes, a few buttons of his cream-colored oxford shirt undone at the top to accommodate the wideness of his chest. Y/N discovered that finding shirts that fit the jaguar hybrid’s frame was rather challenging– one size would be too baggy for his trim waist, and another not quite large enough for his broad shoulders. Despite that, however, he always managed to look absolutely perfect. 
Seokjin was grinning, his cheeks rosy from the eggnog, his eyes dragging up and down Y/N’s form in a way that had her squirming under his scrutiny. It was all she could do earlier to talk him off a ledge when she came out of her room in a dress, and not swaddled up in ski wear. Now, with alcohol flooding through him… his gaze was a bit more heated as opposed to disapproving. 
Jimin, on the other hand, was mid-sip of his drink, nodding in acknowledgement as her and Hoseok appeared in front of him, looking sharp in a classic black suit and brand-new shiny loafers. The coyote hybrid even broke out some of the jewelry he had brought with him from Montana; silver bracelets and hoop earrings, the holiday lights glinting off of them. Seeing Jimin so dressed up had her feeling dizzy, as his usual uniform was rugged blue jeans and well-worn tee shirts so he could comfortably take care of the animals in the stable. As if he could read her mind, Jimin winked at her, setting his empty glass down on the table with a wry smirk. 
“Uh, has anyone seen Tae in the last fifteen minutes? I still haven’t seen his photos, he disappeared on me,” Y/N cleared her throat, overwhelmed by the three incredibly handsome, incredibly well-dressed hybrids surrounding her like a pack of wolves. 
Seokjin shook his head with a pout, probably thinking that he had somehow disappointed her by not having information, and Hoseok had busied himself by stacking more cookies onto his cocktail napkin. Really, the only one who actually warmed up to Taehyung was Yoongi, and Y/N wasn’t about to seek out the leopard hybrid when fantasies of him were still running rampant in her mind. 
“I just saw him a moment ago, talking to the club leader. He had a big frame under his arm, I think he was likely swapping it out for another,” Jimin lifted his nose in the air and took a delicate inhale, Y/N wondering if he was trying to locate Taehyung by scent. 
“Tae-tae will come out of the woodwork when he’s ready. I wouldn’t dare try and find him before he’s ready, remember the time you walked by him editing photos on your laptop? I thought he was going to have a stroke, ‘they’re not done yet!’,” Hoseok mimicked Taehyung’s deep voice, a playful look on his face as Y/N rolled her eyes. 
“Even if you’re being an ass about it, you’re right,” Y/N admitted, glancing around the room once more to try and see if she could spot Namjoon or Jeongguk. “Looks like Joonie’s hiding from me too.”
“No he’s not. He’s just in the bathroom,” Hoseok took Y/N’s empty champagne from her, replacing it with a new one. Ever since Halloween, Hoseok had made quite impressive progress in being able to hang around Namjoon without flinching or blanching. “The elk is the one you have to worry about. He might hotwire your car to get out of here, he’s been adjusting his suit all night like it’s giving him a rash.”
“He doesn’t even know how to drive, Hoseok,” Y/N grumbled, though the thought had crossed her mind. “You’re gonna get a stomach ache if you eat all those cookies, by the way.”
“I’m just making sure I eat enough calories for my meet!” Hoseok exclaimed, green-and-red sprinkles stuck to the corners of his mouth as his eyes went wide. 
“Your next meet is in four days,” Seokjin pointed out helpfully, Hoseok nearly choking on his bite of frosted sugar cookie. “You don’t need to be carb-loading now.”
“Jinnie, at least you know my schedule,” Hoseok clapped a hand over Seokjin’s back, making the jaguar hybrid nearly spill his eggnog all over the front of Y/N’s dress, causing him to hiss sharply. 
“Quit doing that! I almost ruined her pretty dress,” Seokjin yanked on one of Hoseok’s triangular ears, a yelp coming from Hoseok pitifully. Y/N, however, was too busy bashfully staring down at her dress that Seokjin apparently thought was pretty. 
“You two better cut it out, or we’re going to get thrown out,” Jimin rolled his eyes, pushing honey hair off of his face with disdain. If there was one thing the coyote hybrid couldn’t stand, it was the others drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. 
 Snapping out of her daze, she herded the three hybrids away from the refreshments table and the cocked eyebrows of several onlookers, one hand on Jimin’s back and the other around Seokjin’s bicep, mindful of the drinks in their hands. 
“So, when do you think we can get out of here? I miss my sweats,” Hoseok leaned against a cinderblock wall, eyes narrowed on photographs on display across from him; a collection of landscape photos by a young calico hybrid girl, who was proudly showing her work to her family. 
“That’s up to Tae. We’re staying as long as he wants,” Y/N again tried to find Taehyung in the busy room, and finally spotted him over in the corner where his work was in his last expo.
He appeared pensive, hands tucked into the pockets of his emerald green velvet suit jacket, eyebrows pulled together as he bent low to stare at one of his pictures. Instead of catching him off guard and peeking at his pictures before they were ready, Y/N fished her phone she had tucked away in Seokjin’s suit pocket for safekeeping, smiling softly at the startled purr he responded with. 
Y/N: I’m sure they look beautiful, can we see them now?
Taehyung paused, probably feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, lowering his eyes from the framed pictures on the wall to check his phone. A whisper of a secret grin formed on his lips, his wild dark curls covering the upper part of his face as he began to type out a response.
Tae 🐻: Okay, they’re ready. They put everything in the wrong order and frames, that’s why it took so long for me to fix
Y/N: Heading over to you now, can’t wait!
“Thanks for holding onto this for me, honey,” Y/N handed her phone back to Seokjin, who promptly tucked it back into his suit pocket, shaking his head as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Tae said he’s ready, should we check out his pictures?”
Hoseok began muttering, still not entirely warm and fuzzy towards the Kodiak hybrid, but followed her, Seokjin, and Jimin to Taehyung awaiting them. Along the way, she was able to snag Jeongguk by his shirt cuff– he had managed to ditch his sport jacket and was just in his black button down. 
“What, did you go to the car and leave your jacket in there when you went out to smoke? Won’t you be cold later?” Y/N scolded, tugging on his cuff with a reproachful look. Jeongguk simply scoffed, but allowed her to drag him across the room. 
“You keep forgetting we run hotter than you do,” Jeongguk responded, using his free hand to flick her forehead softly, something he seemed to really enjoy doing lately. 
She knew she didn’t have to call out for Namjoon or Yoongi. The former would appear when he wanted, considering he and Taehyung were still not the friendliest to each other, and Yoongi would always show up when she thought of him– as if they had some sort of telepathy that connected them. For all Y/N knew, perhaps they did, stranger things had happened in her life. 
Thinking of the devil, her leopard hybrid slunk from the shadows, meeting her and the others by the window where Taehyung was waiting. Yoongi offered her a private side-eye, taking his time giving her a once-over. While the others weren’t looking, she mouthed ‘stop that’ to him, before promptly tearing her attention from him in order to put it all on Taehyung. Breaking free from Seokjin and Hoseok, Y/N approached Taehyung with an excited expression, already reaching out to hook one of her arms around his waist. 
“Mm, you look nice in this color, Tae,” Y/N murmured lowly, using her fingertips to brush along the soft velvet of his suit jacket. Indeed, the dark green brought out the deep red in his eyes, and complimented the honeyed shade of his skin. 
Taehyung leaned into her embrace, chuckling softly at her compliment. Y/N was too preoccupied soaking in every microexpression and how beautiful he looked to immediately take a look at his pictures on the wall, enjoying the scent of sandalwood mingling with fruity champagne that was coming off of Taehyung so temptingly. 
“We don’t have to stay for much longer, I know Foxy wants to leave…” Taehyung said, in his signature whispery voice; a private moment between the two of them. 
“We leave whenever you’re ready, Tae! Don’t listen to Hoseok, he just likes to whine,” Y/N frowned, pinching Tae’s side for emphasis. Behind her and to the left a little ways away, she heard Hoseok squawking in disbelief. “Okay, I’m dying to know what your photos look like!”
Clearing his throat, Taehyung took a step forward, Y/N slightly stumbling along as her arm was still linked around his waist. It was then when she could get a long-awaited look at Taehyung’s work, which was lit up with twinkling Christmas lights draped around the partition wall the frames were fastened to. 
Y/N didn’t know what to focus on first. Compared to his previous expos, where there were only about four to six images on display, there were eight rather large prints on the wall this time, all arranged in a circle around a ninth photograph, the largest of all. Taking a breath, Y/N released her hold on Taehyung to edge a step nearer. 
The photo in the center was one of their house, taken recently at night, by the looks of it. Leaves of the willow trees were stripped bare, and the grass in front of the porch frosty and crystallized. Though the picture of the house was in black and white, it was still apparent that most of the lights in the house were on– Y/N could see Yoongi’s and Jimin’s bedroom lamps on, and the chandelier in the foyer was visible. Even the Christmas lights and garland wrapped around the porch and pillars could be detected, and the home looked merry and festive, full of life. It reminded her, compared to how it looked through Taehyung’s lens, of how she had longed the house to be so lived-in only days before she actually adopted any of the hybrids. 
It seemed that Taehyung really loved their home. He always managed to sneak a picture of it into his presentation at the expo, and each time it made her chest squeeze with an emotion she could not match to the sensation. Blindly, she extended her hand backwards, searching for Taehyung, and his broad palm immediately slipped into her grasp. 
The other pictures were all portraits of himself, the other six hybrids, and Y/N, and each portrait was in a horizontal frame– a black and white outtake of each of them when Taehyung took their ID photos, and a colored candid directly next to it. At the top of the circle around the house was Y/N’s set of pictures; the ID outtake of her looking sheepish, hand over her chest as Hoseok’s hand in the frame was pulling a flyaway hair out of her berry lip gloss. The colored one, in juxtaposition, was Y/N slightly slumped over her morning cup of coffee, dressed in her Stevie Nicks-type clothing before she headed off to work, completely unaware that Taehyung was snapping pictures of her. 
Y/N had grown used to Taehyung taking pictures of her by now, so she wasn’t totally surprised that she was part of his expo. That said, she still couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed that she was on display, and that all of her hybrids were completely ignoring their own portraits to point and exclaim at Y/N’s. Taehyung squeezed her hand gently, and Y/N pretended she didn’t care what the others were saying about her portrait, and instead studied the others. 
Y/N had already seen the ID outtakes of the other hybrids, as she had helped Taehyung pick the best ones out to send in for the physical copies of the IDs, but she delighted in seeing them again, and was even more fascinated by the candids she hadn’t seen before. Jimin’s candid was him in the backyard, riding Vista around the exercise pen at sunset with a carefree expression, the colors of gold and orange warming her up from the inside out. Below him was Hoseok, grinning wryly at someone off-camera after an afternoon run, a sweat towel around his neck and a water bottle clutched in his hand– Y/N could practically hear the picture. Next was Jeongguk, though the picture taken of him was from behind, and apparently by Taehyung positioned at the threshold of Jeongguk’s bedroom door. Only a hint of Jeongguk’s side profile was visible, a cigarette poised between his lips as he leaned over his balcony, eyelashes almost brushing his cheek as he read from his journal. 
“Little voyeuristic of you to stand in my room taking pictures of me, don’t you think, bear?” Jeongguk lifted a pierced brow, scrunching up his nose in an accusatory manner. 
“It’s not like you didn’t hear or smell me standing there. You could have told me to fuck off,” Taehyung responded blandly, Y/N extremely surprised that he used such language in a public setting. Jeongguk, too, seemed somewhat impressed that Taehyung challenged him back. 
At the bottom of the circle were Taehyung’s self-portraits. Instead of taking a picture of himself in the mirror like he had for his very first expo, his “candid” was one of Taehyung laying on his side in the music room on the floor, headphones on, listening to his record collection. From the angle that the photo was taken, Y/N figured he had placed his camera on top of the turntable. It was a lovely picture of him, the soft mid-morning light filtering in from the windows and striking one of his eyes just so that the viewer of the image could pick up on the carmine hue of his irises. 
“These are really gorgeous, Tae,” Y/N felt her throat grow thick, emotions beginning to overwhelm her as she examined picture after picture of her boys. “How did you come up with this idea?”
Y/N waited for Taehyung’s response while she moved onto Yoongi’s pictures, her heart skipping a beat or two. Pressing a hand to her mouth to contain her grin, she realized that in Yoongi’s candid– which was of him putting away groceries in the pantry– half of her body was in the frame, handing Yoongi boxes of sugary cereal Namjoon favored. Yoongi looked soft, in loungewear that he typically donned to the grocery store. 
“We were given a theme to work with…” Taehyung said ambiguously, waiting for Y/N to soak in every photograph and figure it out on her own, perhaps. 
The final two, Seokjin and Namjoon, might have been her favorites. The eldest hybrid’s photo was him curled up in the breakfast nook with a copy of Pride and Prejudice, his tail wrapped around his waist, and a steaming cup of coffee in one of his hands. Y/N was fond of the particular expression Seokjin was wearing in that photograph, deep concentration and immersion with his thick eyebrows pulled together, hair mussed off of his forehead because he’d play with it while he read.
Finally, to the left of Y/N’s portraits on the top of the circle was Namjoon’s, and in stark difference to his stern-looking ID outtake, he was all soft edges and dimples in the colored photograph. It was the only picture that Y/N remembered Taehyung actually taking, as it was right over her shoulder while her and Namjoon were in the middle of a chess match, the fireplace roaring behind Namjoon while he kicked her ass yet again. Considering Taehyung and Namjoon still barely tolerated one another past a begrudging “good morning” every now and again, the picture perfectly encapsulated how much Namjoon could soften around others when his guard was down. 
By then, Y/N was on the verge of tears, so overcome with love for each of her hybrids that she couldn’t help but turn on her heel to face-plant directly into Taehyung’s chest, squeezing him until an animalistic wheeze came from the depths of his lungs. 
“Y/N, did you see the picture he took of me? I should make that my Instagram profile picture, what do you think?” Hoseok crowed from behind her, no doubt clocking how attractive he looked in it. “I’m glad you didn’t pick that other one for my ID, though. My left ear was drooping.”
Y/N was too busy pressing her face further into Taehyung’s silky black button-down, squashing down tears as best she could. She always bought Taehyung’s prints after an expo, but all she wanted then and there was to pull each frame off of the wall and squirrel them off to her car like a bandit. In her head, she could see all of the pictures lining the walls up the stairwell…
“She okay?” Namjoon joined the clump of them standing around Taehyung’s exhibit, his voice beside her and Taehyung as she held onto the Kodiak hybrid for dear life. 
Taehyung grunted in response, one of his hands smoothing down the back of her head soothingly, though she could feel his chest rumbling in what she assumed was minor amusement. 
“She’s just sappy,” Yoongi helpfully volunteered, his gravelly voice sounding bored and a bit distant. Last time she caught him out of the corner of her eye, he was leaning against the window a few feet from everyone else. 
“Oh! All of your subjects are here, Taehyung?” A new voice joined the conversation, Y/N recognizing it as the woman who ran the hybrid photography club. Vaguely mortified, Y/N pulled herself together enough to release Taehyung and face the woman, who was admiring the photos of Y/N, her hybrids, and their home. “You’ve improved so much these past couple of months. Your exhibit turned out wonderfully– sorry about the frame mixup, by the way. Lost in translation!”
Taehyung simply shook his head, his neck flushing with all of the attention on him, one of his fists bunched up in the fabric of Y/N’s dress, right where her waist met her hip. 
“So, did you tell them the theme of tonight’s expo?” The woman prompted, smiling warmly at Taehyung like she was more than used to his quiet, reserved nature. 
“I think he likes for us to guess,” Hoseok piped up, biting his tongue mischievously as Jimin lightly stepped on his foot with an agitated twitch to his sandy ear. 
“No guesses?” The woman placidly asked, folding her plum-polished fingers delicately around her champagne flute. Taehyung stiffened beside Y/N as if to brace himself, and both her and most of the hybrids either shrugged or shook their heads. 
“Well, the theme was family, of course! Of home!”
Y/N thought she might have squeaked out a surprised ‘oh’, but she couldn’t be sure with the ringing in her ears as she processed that very significant scrap of information. She wasn’t the only flabbergasted one, every other hybrid had varying levels of disbelief and pure shock on their faces. Taehyung wasn’t one to be brotherly with the rest of them, in fact he usually avoided interacting with them if he could, so for the Kodiak hybrid to include them in a family-themed exhibit was dumbfounding, though incredibly sweet. 
“Here I was, thinking it was expectations versus reality,” Hoseok broke the stunned silence, always the one to bounce back immediately when something unexpected unfolded. 
The group leader snorted over the rim of her champagne glass, Taehyung’s posture loosening up once the tension was broken, Y/N composing herself once more by allowing a giggle to escape at Hoseok’s remark, once again grateful for the fox hybrid’s ability to bring ease into any sort of situation. 
“Oh dear! I forgot to check up on how much champagne we have in the back room. I think we may have underestimated how many people would enjoy the signature cocktail,” the woman interrupted the somewhat-awkward giggling amongst her, Hoseok, and Seokjin, though Y/N had a suspicion she was making something up so she could let them all have a private moment. “Enjoy the rest of the expo!”
With that, she disappeared into the festive crowd, and Y/N began staring lovingly at Taehyung’s pictures once more. Some of her boys took that as their cue to be dismissed, Namjoon and Jeongguk fading into the masses of people in search of a fresh cocktail, Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin moving on to check out other exhibits. Yoongi had long since evaporated as soon as the awkward giggling began minutes prior, Y/N managing to catch him heading towards the bathroom with a hand over his mouth to hide his amusement. 
So, she was left with just Taehyung in front of his photos, suddenly at a loss at what to say to him, if anything at all. 
“Um… sorry. She can be a little corny,” Taehyung murmured, Y/N craning her neck to meet Taehyung’s eyes once he spoke. Snorting, she nudged Taehyung’s hip with her own. 
“Actually, she reminds me a bit of my mom. I guess she can be corny, too, though,” Y/N admitted, watching Taehyung step in front of her and block her view of the pictures on the wall. 
“You really like them? You don’t think anyone minded that I displayed pictures of them, do you?” Taehyung asked vulnerably, a subtle pout jutting out his lower lip as he made eye contact with her intensely. 
“I don’t think anyone was upset, no! I mean, you know Jeongguk. He was just being a smartass, as per usual,” Y/N put both of her hands on Taehyung’s shoulders, brushing off imaginary dust in an attempt to relax his tensed muscles. “They turned out beautifully. I love them, Tae.”
“Do you want to bring these copies home? The club leader said I could take them,” Taehyung asked shyly, apparently convinced by her words of encouragement. 
“Absolutely. I’m going to hang them up as soon as we get them back home,” Y/N replied cheerily, squeezing his shoulders for emphasis. Home. Their home. 
Taehyung then grinned, wide and splitting his breathtaking face in two, Y/N sliding one of her hands from his shoulder to his forehead, brushing his curls out of his eyes, going as far as tucking it back so his entire forehead was exposed. Taehyung eagerly leaned into the touch, and Y/N imagined if his tail was long like some of the other hybrid’s, it would be wagging back and forth happily. 
“Ah, I’m excited to go home now. It’s too crowded in here,” Taehyung spoke with his eyes shut, cheek smushed into Y/N’s palm. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Mm-hmm. Can we go now?”
Y/N rocked upwards as much as her high-heels could allow, placing a gentle kiss on Taehyung’s cheek that she wasn’t cradling in her palm, pulling away swiftly with a goofy grin. In the wake of the kiss, left behind was Taehyung gawking, and a stamp of berry-colored lip gloss in the shape of her lips on his cheek. 
“Help me get these down from the wall, and we’ll head home, okay Tae?”
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“Wait. The painfully shy one, the bear, is okay with a bunch of us coming over on his birthday? We can always postpone, make it a New Year’s party instead,” Alice, over Facetime with a sheet mask over her face disguising her utter disbelief, squawked. 
“I mean, that was my suggestion to him, too. Obviously everyone is busy on Christmas Eve– Ben and Roy with Daisy, and obviously you with little Kai, Laura,” Y/N had her phone propped up on a sack of flour in the kitchen, the morning of December 23rd, on her weekly 3-way call with the Santos twins. “But he was the one who insisted everyone come over on the 30th. I almost keeled over.”
“He must be getting more comfortable around everyone, Y/N! That’s really great, I’m happy for him,” Laura exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she wrote something down in her day planner– probably organizing talking points for her next family vlog. 
“It’s either that, or he’s too considerate. I mean, ever since his photography expo a week ago, it’s been non-stop last minute gift shopping, wrapping, decorating, and baking. I think if I were hosting a party tomorrow, I’d go insane.”
“Aw, so he probably noticed you’ve got a lot going on. He’s a sweetheart, huh?” Alice cooed, Y/N clapping excess flour off of her hands as she nodded in agreement. She was elbow-deep in gingerbread at the moment, and she was pretty sure she had flour in places that were unspeakable. 
“You guys have your tree up already, right? Namjoon and Jeongguk helped me drag the box with ours in it last week. Let me tell you, it’s so much easier to have two 170-pound men help you lug that thing up from the basement rather than my two possibly anemic cousins,” Y/N snorted, recalling how easily the wolf and elk hybrids carried the comically ginormous box containing the fake Christmas tree up the basement stairs. 
“Are you trying to brag right now?” Alice accused, her eyebrow visibly cocked even under the facemask that covered her expression. “We get it. They’re hunky.”
“Shhh! Alice!” Laura hissed with embarrassment while looking up from her planner, Y/N simply waving her hand in the air at the comment. 
“Don’t sweat it, Laura. Everyone’s out. My mom took them Christmas shopping in her minivan about an hour ago,” Y/N airly chuckled, the mental image of her mother shepherding each of her boys into a crumpled little van that morning to take them to the local mall. For what, she could hardly guess. 
“You’re lucky your mom is obsessed with hybrids,” Alice said, going back to applying red varnish on her nails. 
“I’m lucky that she got them out of my hair long enough to wrap the stockpile of gifts I have hidden in the fucking attic,” Y/N countered, blowing hair out of her face as she slid the last sheet of gingerbread into the oven. “I love them, but my god. Up my ass like a window shade lately.”
“It’s because you’ve been sneaking around with gifts like the goddamn Grinch! What, did you need a crowbar to pry open the attic door? Did you find the ghost of Paul Revere up there?” Alice exclaimed, as if the reason for the hybrid’s increased clinginess was due to her making excuses to go up to the attic through Seokjin’s room routinely. 
“That would be sick, actually. It is fucking creepy up there, though. I might get Jeongguk to help me sort through all of the junk up there in the spring, just in case there’s a demon hiding in my grandmother’s old hat collection,” Y/N relished in the sound of Laura’s lilting laugh, something she found she missed more than anything those days. “So, what is Santa bringing for Kai, Laur?”
“Oh, Santa is bringing him one of those plastic play-kitchens. You know, with the fake food and little bowls and whatnot. A tricycle, too, which I fear might mark up my floors until Tyler can bring him outside in the spring to ride it around the block,” Laura played along, toying with one of the braids skimming her collar bones. “He’s going to be three next year, so no more rattles…”
“My little nephew!” Alice pouted pitifully, pretending to blink away tears at the camera. “He’s growing so fast, soon Auntie Alice will be taking him for his first driving lesson.”
“Dear god, anyone but you,” Laura scoffed, looking horrified. “Love you, Al, but you’re not the first person I’d pick to show him how to parallel park.”
The girls continued to chat for 10 more minutes, until Y/N pulled the last batch of gingerbread men out of the oven and set them on a cooling rack. It was about time for her to tackle wrapping the rest of the boy’s presents and stick them under the tree before they returned from the mall with her mother. After shooting off a few texts to people she wanted to have over for the Christmas party/Taehyung’s birthday, Y/N began shuffling back and forth between the attic and the wrapping station she had set up in the parlor, quickly beginning to sweat between the flannel of her festive pajamas and the blazing fire in the room she was wrapping gifts in. 
There was no way to tell how much time had passed, as Y/N had papercut-raw fingertips and at least 35 gifts under the tree, and her Christmas playlist had looped three times. As it was approaching evening, and it was the holidays, after all, Y/N poured herself a glass of wine before she started tackling the stockings that were hanging over the mantle, all crowded together. Her mother had graciously dropped stockings off for her and the hybrids that morning, each with crocheted names on the fabric. 
Y/N wasn’t used to being away from all of the boys at once, for that long, since she adopted them. Usually, there was always one or two of them hanging around at home with her, even if the rest were at a club. At first, she was a tad relieved to have some time to talk to her friends freely over the phone, be as klutzy as she wanted without one of them flipping their lids, or even getting control of the wireless speaker; but as evening had the the house growing darker and quieter, she felt it was time to give her mother a call for her ETA with the boys. 
While she was dropping little knick-knacks into Jimin’s stocking, the cellphone balanced between her cheek and shoulder beeped morosely– her mother sent her directly to voicemail. Cursing, she continued to fill up the stockings, trying a different number. 
“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Yoongi’s voice came through the receiver, though the lovely melody of it was muffled by commotion all around him. Even through the phone, she could hear Hoseok’s loud voice, and the rushing noises of a car speeding down the highway. 
“Nothing’s wrong, angel, just wondering when you’ll be back. My mom wasn’t picking up,” Y/N smirked, heart feeling full that she could detect concern in his tone. 
“W-we, uh, okay, oh! Um, hold on, Y/N,” Yoongi fumbled with his phone, Y/N cringing as she listened to the commotion on the other end of the line. 
“Honey? Sorry, my phone died fifteen minutes ago,” her mother’s voice suddenly replaced Yoongi’s, and Y/N had no doubt that she had stolen his phone from him. “We’re on our way back now. You better lock yourself in your room though, the boys have some wrapping to do.” 
“What do you mean? I thought you were getting gifts for them,” Y/N stilled, elbow-deep in Namjoon’s stocking, dropping the Barnes and Noble gift card into the garment with shock. 
“I finished shopping for them weeks ago, honey. I’ll drop their gifts off tomorrow. Jesus, honey, I gotta focus, okay? I hate driving at night,” Y/N could hear someone honking at her mother, who typically drove like a geriatric hospital patient. “Go hide in your room. Namjoon says he has a house key, so don’t leave the door unlocked or anything!”
“Wait, mom–” Y/N cursed when her mother hung up on her promptly, hurriedly placing the last few items into Namjoon’s stocking. “Oh, my poor boys… been with that loon all day…”
Swallowing a large mouthful of wine, Y/N blinked at the stockings hanging over the fireplace, the thirty second phone call finally sinking in. If her mother didn’t take the hybrids to the mall to pick things out for themselves, did that mean they were shopping for her? Squeaking, Y/N snatched up her bottle of wine and scrambled to her bedroom, giving the parlor a cursory glance to make sure she had stacked all of the gifts under the tree properly. 
It only took fifteen minutes after the phone call for Y/N to hear car doors slamming from her spot on her bed, drinking her wine straight from the bottle like a cavewoman. All she wanted was to greet them at the door, feel Seokjin squeeze her tight, hear Namjoon diligently hanging the house keys back up on the wall hook, and listen to Hoseok chatter about his day without her. 
She strained her ears, hearing someone shove the key into the door and slide the deadbolt back, before absolute chaos echoed throughout the house. Seven different voices, all at once, filing into the foyer, the sound of shoes being kicked off and plastic bags crinkling against one another. Already, Y/N could hear Namjoon calling out orders on where to put everything, and she thought she heard him ask the room if anyone knew how to wrap. Snickering into her hand, Y/N took another swig of her wine, footsteps growing softer as they all headed into the parlor. 
“Christ almighty,” Y/N sighed, praying that no one would cheat and peek into their stockings. Her eyes snapped open when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. 
“Coming,” Y/N jumped up from bed, bumping her hip sharply into one of her bedposts, swearing quietly. “Fuck me.”
Cracking the door open, she almost immediately, and embarrassingly, melted on the spot, Yoongi’s cold-flushed face appearing in front of her. 
“Hi,” she greeted shyly, opening the door a bit wider so he could lean on the doorframe. He was still wearing his dark blue puffer jacket, a fond smile on his lips. “Missed you.”
In the couple of weeks her and Yoongi’s relationship had… changed, the two of them hadn’t had too much alone time. In fact, the previous Friday, she couldn’t even have her weekly piano lesson with him, as she had got called into work when her boss fell ill– so Y/N had to deal with secret longing glances and the ‘normal’ amount of cuddling and affection around everyone else in order to avoid suspicion. Y/N had no idea when she would even be able to have a conversation with Yoongi about how to break the news to the other hybrids. All she knew was it was near-torture to not be able to kiss him whenever she wanted, to scream from the roof that she loved him. 
“Did you?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, teasing light dancing in his beautiful hazel eyes, Y/N offering him a sardonic grin. 
“Don’t be a dick. You know I did,” Y/N whispered, desperate to retain some privacy. Hopefully, with her Christmas playlist still booming and looping in the parlor, along with what sounded like Seokjin and Hoseok loudly bickering, that their moment would go unnoticed. “How was it today? You guys didn’t buy me stuff, did you?”
Yoongi scoffed, totally affronted, all while tucking a loose strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear tenderly. The contact had her shivering like she was standing out in the cold in her underwear. 
“Who else would we get gifts for, silly girl? Each other? Please,” Yoongi cocked his head, likely noticing how Y/N was inching closer and closer to his warmth. “I noticed all of those boxes under the tree. What, you’re allowed to get us stuff, but not the other way around?”
“Stop pissing me off. I’ve barely gotten to talk to you alone in two weeks,” Y/N huffed, ready to close the door in his face at that point, no matter how much she wanted to squeeze him until he couldn’t breathe. 
Yoongi chuckled, tucking his hands into his jacket pocket lazily. Though he appeared nonchalant, his expression was soft in ways that had her heart aching. 
“I’ll come and get you when everyone’s done wrapping. Seokjin wouldn’t shut up about watching Christmas movies with you all day,” Yoongi said, Y/N feeling her cheeks heat up at the mental image of her seven boys tying bows around things that they picked out for her. “Oh. We brought home some food from that Indian restaurant by the mall for dinner, too.”
“Ooh, I love that place. We’ll eat while we watch the movies, after you’re all done,” Y/N couldn’t help but pout a little knowing that their alone time was nearly up, already light on the balls of her feet to collapse back onto her bed until he came back to fetch her. “Okay. I won’t keep you, then, angel.”
Before she could turn, Yoongi grabbed her by the waist, a sexy, deadly purr rumbling from his chest as he glanced down at her through his eyelashes. Heart hammering, she found herself frozen in time, completely under his spell. 
“Hold on, baby,” Yoongi warned softly, his fingertips scorching even over the fabric of her flimsy cotton pajamas. “Gimme a kiss first.”
Though his voice was gentle, his statement was a demand, not a request, and Y/N had no qualms giving him what he desired. Besides– it’s what she wanted more than anything, as well. Wanting to wipe the expectant look off of his face, she stepped even closer to Yoongi, looping her arms around his neck.
Easily, she leaned her body weight onto the leopard hybrid, melding their chests together without prompting, watching his eyes flutter shut and lips part slightly in anticipation. Not even caring if anyone else could walk by at any moment, Y/N decided to tease Yoongi a little, giving the tip of his nose a kiss and pretending to pull away. Quietly growling, Yoongi tightened his hold on Y/N’s waist, taking matters into his own hands by slotting his lips against hers, Y/N releasing a sigh she hadn’t realized she was holding onto. 
The kiss was chaste, for the most part, void of the desperate passion from two weeks ago, after their confession. Yoongi hummed into her mouth, thumbs rubbing circles into waist, Y/N feeling like she was free-falling as he held her. Y/N wanted more, pressing herself closer to him until they were completely flush, Yoongi grunting as her hips collided with his. 
“Mmph– easy, baby,” Yoongi groaned quietly, rearing his head backwards so Y/N couldn’t plant another kiss on his mouth. “Don’t wanna get caught, do you?”
“I don’t care,” Y/N whined, tugging the ends of Yoongi’s hair at the nape of his neck, making him shiver and shake his head. 
“Yes you do, sweetheart,” Yoongi countered, removing both of her hands from around his neck, though pressing a kiss to each of her palms before releasing her wrists. “As much as I’d like to indulge you in your earlier request, now’s not the time.”
“What are you talking about, earlier request–” Y/N began, before Hoseok was loudly calling for Yoongi from the kitchen, making her spring apart from Yoongi like he shocked her with a wire. 
“I’ll come get you in a bit, sit tight, okay?” Yoongi gave her waist a quick squeeze, winking, before setting off down the hall before she could catch him by his coat, his tail curling behind him languidly. 
In a daze, Y/N shut her bedroom door, stiffly perching on the end of her bed and taking a deep swing from the bottle of wine she left on the floor prior to Yoongi’s interruption. It was several moments later when it dawned on her– the “earlier request”– when she bumped her hip against her bedpost, she exclaimed “Fuck me”. 
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Christmas morning, Y/N miraculously woke up without a hangover, despite the amount of cocktails she had during the Christmas Eve movie marathon she had with the hybrids. In fact, she jumped out of bed like there were ants in her pajama pants, eager to get a head start on everything she had planned for that morning. After freshening up, she headed straight for the hallway, only stopping to peer into Namjoon’s room– the wolf hybrid wasn’t in there, though. She found him, along with Seokjin, in the kitchen already, both still in their pajamas and fixing up their morning cup of coffee. 
“Morning, you two! Merry Christmas,” Y/N made her way to the refrigerator, taking out the sheet of French toast she had soaking in custard overnight. “Oh, you preheated the oven for me, Seokjinnie? Thank you!”
Seokjin hovered behind her while she slid the sheet into the oven, Y/N feeling his body heat as she straightened up, no doubt waiting for a hug, as he always did every single morning. Before she could turn to do so, she squeaked, feeling Seokjin wrap his arms around her middle and rest his chin on her shoulder, tail curling around her thigh. Apparently, he wasn’t keen on waiting that morning. 
“Oof– gentle, Seokjin, I’m not going anywhere,” Y/N giggled, ticklish where he was nudging the tip of his nose against the side of her neck affectionately. 
“When do you think Foxy is going to drag his carcass up from the basement?” Yoongi strolled into the kitchen, going right to the coffee bar and taking two mugs out of the cabinet, dutifully making a cup for himself and Y/N. “I think between him and Jeongguk, they drank an entire handle of Tito’s.”
“If he’s not up before breakfast is ready, I’ll go down there and get him. He’ll be pissed if he doesn’t get any bacon,” Y/N shuffled around the kitchen island awkwardly with Seokjin still clinging to her back, his purring growing louder and louder as she smoothed her hands up and down his forearms clasped around her middle. “Speaking of, did you wanna make the bacon, Seokjin?”
With that, the jaguar hybrid finally broke away from her, and Y/N accepted her mug of coffee from Yoongi so she could sit beside Namjoon at the breakfast nook. The wolf hybrid said nothing as she scooched close to him, practically reading over his shoulder, furrowing her eyebrows at the book he was reading. 
“Is that Latin, Joonie? What are you reading? I didn’t know you could speak Latin,” Y/N rapid-fired, Namjoon patiently putting his book down so he could answer her questions. 
“I don’t speak Latin, actually. This is Jeongguk’s, he asked me to take it out of the library from him. He can speak Latin, apparently… I was just leafing through,” Namjoon pushed the book towards Y/N so she could check it out, the cover ancient looking. It appeared to be some kind of book of prayers. 
“How the hell did he learn Latin? It’s not like they teach hybrids how to speak a dead language in the labs when they’re kids,” Yoongi commented, giving Jimin a nod as the coyote hybrid came into the room. 
“I just picked up a book and figured it out, asshole,” Jeongguk was right behind Jimin, apparently, shooting Yoongi a dirty look. 
“Let’s not bicker on Christmas, okay? Chill out,” Y/N frowned, Jimin mirroring her disapproval from across the room. “We’re just waiting on Tae and Hoseok, right?”
“I’ll get Hoseok,” Seokjin volunteered, placing the tongs he was using to flip over pieces of bacon in the skillet off to the side, disappearing from the room before Y/N could protest. 
“Taehyung’s up. I heard his shower going,” Yoongi remarked, taking out plates for the food. 
“I can’t wait for you guys to open your gifts!” Y/N squirmed in her seat, inadvertently wiggling further into Namjoon’s space. The wolf hybrid simply remained still, allowing her to snuggle up to his side as much as she wanted. “I’m excited to see what my mom got you all too. Hopefully nothing crazy… like goats or any other kind of barnyard animal.”
“Ooh, but then we could try goat yoga, Y/N darling!” Hoseok made his grand entrance into the kitchen, looking a little disheveled with his wavy hair sticking up in multiple directions, but grinning nonetheless. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Yeah, it would be fun to shovel goat shit or get gored to death by Black Phillip, too,” Jeongguk drawled, already stacking bacon onto his plate with a grimace. 
“Party pooper,” Hoseok muttered, grabbing a plate for himself and sticking his tongue out at Jeongguk while the elk hybrid has his back to him. 
Tae silently entered the room, taking up her free side on the booth, waiting for Yoongi to come around with the sheet of French toast, Y/N giving him a hair ruffle when he told her “Merry Christmas”. 
Y/N ate as fast as she could, eager to get on with the gift-giving portion of the morning, and for once she was finished eating before any of the boys. She ditched them in the kitchen, heading straight to the parlor to light up the Christmas tree, start the fire, and switch on the TV station that was running holiday specials all day. She was in the middle of fluffing pillows on the couch when she stopped to stare at all of the boxes under the tree– it would probably take them at least two hours to open everything. She could tell which ones were for her; they were all clumsily wrapped with an aggressive amount of tape, and it made her smile goofily. 
“What’s that?” Jeongguk was the first to come into the parlor, collapsing on the leather recliner and pointing at the TV with disgust. “Ugly bastard.”
“Um, the fucking Grinch? Have you never seen this movie?” Y/N gasped in disbelief, Jeongguk looking at her like really. “He’s not ugly. He’s misunderstood!”
“Y/N, please,” Jeongguk groaned, rubbing his temples like she was aggravating him. Actually, agitating Jeongguk was becoming her new favorite hobby. 
Everyone filed in shortly after Jeongguk, taking spots on the floor and couch, and after a few moments of having to describe what The Grinch was to everyone but Yoongi, all of the hybrids were staring at her expectantly. 
“Okay, to make this go faster, why don’t we all open things at once? Here, I’ll grab something for each of you…” Y/N sprung up from her spot on the couch, startling Jimin beside her enough for him to yelp. 
Y/N started off with the gifts her mother had dropped off for the hybrids, plucking up the little envelope that was for her, as well. Once she returned to her seat, she found that they were all still staring at her. 
“Well? Go ahead! Just stick the wrapping paper in one of the trash bags over there,” Y/N pointed to the black bag by the tree, praying to the sky that her mother got normal gifts for them. To hasten the process of all of them slowly peeling back paper like her mom had wrapped grenades for them, Y/N tore her envelope open with vigor. 
“Oh my god! Guys, my mom must have gotten my grandfather’s old station wagon fixed at the shop, this is the title for it!” Y/N squealed. 
“But, you already have a car,” Hoseok pointed out helpfully, the point clearly going straight over his head. 
“Yeah, I do. But if she brings over the station wagon, whoever decides to sign up for driving school will have a car to use when I’m at work or whatever!” Y/N explained, waving the title in Hoseok’s face. 
“Actually, that would be pretty helpful. You won’t have to drive us everywhere all the time,” Yoongi said, brushing a finger over his lips, his gift half-opened on his lap. 
Taehyung, beside her, was the first to resume opening his gift, which was a flat square-shaped package. Y/N had a suspicion that it was a record, which was confirmed when he tore off the last of the paper. It was a vintage jazz record, an artist she didn’t know of, but Taehyung certainly did. It appeared that the record was signed, additionally, which had Taehyung’s cheeks turning a bright shade of pink in excitement. 
Y/N was content to simply watch them all tear into the gifts, soaking in every little expression, ear flicker, and surprised sounds. Namjoon received a first-edition version of one of his favorite books, Yoongi opened a little velvet box containing a silver chain that mimicked the one he wore for his Scarface costume on Halloween, and Hoseok got a new pair of running shoes, flamboyantly colored. For Jimin, it looked like her father had picked out a special edition of the coyote hybrid’s favorite whiskey, Seokjin got a woven silver ring that went with the watch he had gotten for his birthday, and perhaps her favorite gift one of them had received so far– Jeongguk opened up a brass cigarette case, the whole room dissolving into laughter at the bewilderment on his face. 
“To be fair, sweets, you’re about as subtle as a gun with your smoke breaks,” Y/N managed through laughter, watching him turn the case around in his hands. 
“Actually, this is pretty nice. I think it’s an antique,” Jeongguk ignored the fact that he was being laughed at, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pajama pockets and beginning to fill up the case with Marlboros. 
“Knowing my mom, it probably is an antique,” Y/N agreed, getting up again to pass out the next round of gifts. Clothes, mostly, all in each of their unique styles, now that she was familiar with them. She could recall that time, many months ago, when she ordered clothes for all of them without even really knowing what most of them looked like, let alone their style preferences. 
There were a few more personal items she got for each hybrid; such as an Ikea bookshelf (that she’d likely have to put together herself) for Namjoon and his growing book collection and a brand-new bookbag, a nice yoga mat and a Hypervolt for Hoseok, and a big plushie of an alpaca was given to Seokjin, one that he had gushed over at the mall once when Y/N took him for his last haircut. 
Y/N was so enthused, clipping the thin gold chain she had gotten for Taehyung around his throat happily, that she totally forgot about their gifts to her, which remained untouched under a sea of ripped paper beneath the tree. 
“How do those shoes fit, Hoseok? Right size?” Y/N called over Taehyung’s shoulder, securing his necklace and making sure the clasp was in the back. Hoseok was flexing and pointing his feet, tail wagging in a pleased manner as he admired his new sneakers. 
“They’re perfect!” Hoseok gave her an animated thumbs-up, before realization dawned across his face. “Hey, you haven’t opened anything! Jinnie, grab our gift from under the tree!”
Suddenly feeling embarrassed, Y/N accepted a lumpy package from Seokjin, who looked eager and excited, the stuffed alpaca still tucked under his arm. Y/N didn’t think he’d be letting it go anytime soon. 
“This is from the two of you?” Y/N asked meekly, aware of all the eyes on her, even if half of the room was occupied checking out some of their new possessions. 
“Mm-hmm! Picked it out together!” Hoseok relaxed in the chair he was sitting sideways on, his legs dangling over the armrest. 
Y/N tore into the paper, and she knew immediately why the package was so lumpy– they had wrapped an article of clothing without it being in a box, making her chuckle softly. Her fingertips brushed over material that felt like a cloud, and when she stripped the last of the paper away, she held up the jacket the two hybrids picked out for her. 
Made of sherpa, and baby pink in color, the jacket was so soft to the touch that she had to resist pressing her face into it. There was a pink heart embroidered on it, right over where her actual heart would be, and it had enormous pockets that could definitely handle her shoving her mitten-covered hands in. It was adorable, not something that she would have picked herself, but she absolutely loved it. 
“This is so cute, guys! I love it, it’ll be perfect for all the cold weather we have coming our way,” Y/N unzipped the jacket, shrugging it on and relishing the way the sherpa felt on her skin. She reached for Seokjin’s hand beside her, giving it a squeeze and a tiny kiss on his knuckles, blowing one dramatically to Hoseok, as well. 
“I liked the color, and Jinnie wanted to get you something to keep you warm, since you’re pretty bad at that,” Hoseok explained, a low, embarrassed growl coming from Seokjin. 
“I love it,” Y/N repeated. I love you. “Thank you, you two!”
“Okay, me next!” Jimin announced, retrieving his– immaculately wrapped– gift for her. 
Jimin got her a perfume that she had been eyeing on the Fragrantica website for weeks, as well as a book she had mentioned wanting to read by a local author, signed. Next was Taehyung and Yoongi’s gift, Y/N stunned that they actually got a joint gift that they agreed on, and it was her very own set of sheet music notebook, bound in leather, as well as a new pair of noise-canceling headphones in her favorite color. Jeongguk, sheepishly, handed her a little gift bag, the contents being a handful of crystals, a pack of hand-dipped incense, and a set of spell chime candles. 
“You guys are too good to me, seriously. Look at all this stuff! Thank you,” Y/N felt herself get a little choked up, even though the parlor was a mess with cardboard, torn paper, and tissue paper, all she could think about was the amount of thought and care that went into each of them picking out gifts for her. She made her rounds in the room, giving each of them a death-squeeze, even Jeongguk, who grumbled the entire time her arms were wrapped around his neck. 
“Y/N, we still need to watch Elf, remember?” Hoseok reminded her over by the bar cart, still wearing his new sneakers and in the middle of making Christmas cocktails for everyone. 
“I remember! I’ll put it on in a minute, okay? I’m just going to give my parents a call and I’ll be right back,” Y/N poked Hoseok on the cheek as she walked by him, on her way to the foyer so she could make her phone call. 
Escaping the blazing heat of the parlor, Y/N felt her cheeks begin to ache from how long she was grinning like a fool. She was halfway through her phone passcode in the hallway before she felt a tap on her shoulder, Y/N spinning around in confusion. 
“Joonie! What’s up?” Y/N cocked her head, noting that his ears were pressed flat against his skull, like he was embarrassed. 
“I… uh. I didn’t give you your gift yet,” Namjoon said awkwardly, pulling a long rectangular box out of his hoodie pocket and offering it to her. Y/N was so caught up with all of the excitement that morning that she didn’t even register that Namjoon hadn’t given her anything. “Here.”
“Oh, Joonie, you shouldn’t–”
“Yes, I should have. Open it, if you don’t like it, I’ll get something else… I’ve never really picked out anything like this for somebody before. So…” Y/N placed her hand on Namjoon’s upper arm to prevent him from babbling further, his lips slamming shut and ears perking up somewhat. 
Beneath the wrapping paper was a velvet box, Y/N biting down on her lip as she pried the lid open, a sharp gasp tearing from her chest as she saw what was nestled within the box. It was a necklace– a choker, judging by the length of it– entirely made up of tiny gems, perhaps cubic zirconia, and in the center of the necklace was a blood-red gem cut in the shape of a heart, delicate and small like the rest of the gems making up the piece. While gawking at the choker, she heard Namjoon nervously shuffling from foot to foot in front of her, Y/N swallowing thickly in order to lubricate her now bone-dry esophagus. 
“Joon… this is beautiful,” was all Y/N could manage, her voice breaking a little. Namjoon, even with his rough edges, had a profound sentimental side to him that Y/N only saw once in a while, and when he’d reveal it to her, she cherished every second. 
“You like it?” Namjoon’s voice came out in a rush, like he was holding his breath, the orange-amber color of his eyes practically sparkling. “You’re not just saying that, right?”
“You’d know if I was lying,” Y/N retorted, running her pointer finger over the necklace in admiration, heart beating wildly. 
“Do you…” Namjoon cleared his throat, gently taking the box from her grasp, taking a step closer to her. “Want to try it on? I’ll clasp it for you.”
Some questions didn’t require responses. Y/N wordlessly turned, gathering her hair in one hand to move it out of the way, waiting for the wolf hybrid to make the first move. Thankfully, he caught on keenly, Y/N shutting her eyes as she listened to Namjoon move behind her. Miraculously, she didn’t make a sound when he draped the necklace around her throat even though the gems chilled her feverish flesh, instead, Y/N focused on Namjoon’s scent. Without fail, the honeyed musk scent of his body wash had her completely relaxing into the moment, humming contentedly as Namjoon’s fingertips brushed against the sensitive skin of the nape of her neck. Distantly, she knew that she was perhaps being obvious, but Namjoon didn’t seem to notice as he deftly fastened the choker into place. 
“Let me see,” Namjoon requested, using two fingers to tap the side of her neck. 
Doing a goofy twirl, Y/N faced the wolf hybrid again, grabbing onto his hands for balance without a second thought. He didn’t drop his hold on her once she was still, his eyes dropping from her face to the choker around her throat. 
“Pretty,” was all Namjoon said, freeing one of Y/N’s hands so he could adjust the necklace, making sure the little red heart rested in the dip of her collar bones. “Suits you.”
“I love it, Joonie. Thank you,” Y/N shivered due to how close Namjoon had gotten to her. Unable to help herself, Y/N opened her arms, yanking the wolf hybrid into an embrace, Namjoon going stiff before tentatively hugging her back, Y/N wondering if he could hear her thundering heartbeat. “My Joon bug, you’re so sweet.”
Namjoon made a noise of embarrassment, but with her cheek pressed to his chest, she could feel his heartbeat galloping just like hers. 
“Here, come with me while I make my call. I bet my mom would like to say hello to you,” Y/N, sadly, let Namjoon go, tangling her hand in the hem of his forest green henley, dragging him in the direction of her bedroom. Namjoon didn’t protest, letting her tow him along with a hidden smile on his face. 
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“Where’s the birthday boy?” Alice sang, bustling through the front door with a large Christmas gift bag hanging off of one elbow, a platter of sugar cookies tucked balanced on her other arm. “And my little fox hybrid!”
“Hi, Al,” Y/N kissed her friend’s cheek, already a little flustered from chasing Daisy around the house with Jimin. “Let me take the cookies. Tae’s in the kitchen, so is Hoseok.”
“Laura’s already here, right?” 
“Showed up at the same time as Ben and Roy!” Y/N helped Alice out of her coat, hanging it up in the closet that was nearly bursting with the amount of garments stuffed in there. “Jesus. There must be 26 coats in here. And 8 of them belong to Seokjin.”
“Oh, he’s such a cutie. Not a fan of the cold, right?” Alice followed Y/N to the kitchen, straightening out her sweater as she walked. Before they could get there, however, Alice stopped her with a poke on the shoulder, expression becoming serious. “How are things? You know, with… Yoongi?’
Alice whispered so softly, Y/N had to practically press her ear to her friend’s mouth, and once she registered what she was asking, Y/N was grateful the house was full of loud voices and music at that moment. 
“Um, I’ll give you a call next time I go to work and tell you everything,” Y/N hoped that Alice would get the hint, giving her a beseeching look. “But we’re good, don’t worry about me. We’re still figuring things out, but we’re not on the outs anymore.”
Alice seemed to digest this information slowly, as if she didn’t quite believe Y/N, but let it go and continued to follow Y/N, leaning into her side as she walked. 
“Fine, but I want details. Excruciating details. You promised,” Alice whisper-shouted, her face brightening once she spotted her twin sister in the kitchen, who was mingling with Roy and Jimin.
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Y/N brushed her off, feeling embarrassed. In the kitchen, all of her Christmas decorations were still up and an obscene amount of food on the island, mostly charcuterie boards she and Yoongi spent a large part of the day preparing. “Get some food before you try one of those cocktails Hoseok made. They’re pretty stiff.”
“Alice is here!” As if he was summoned, Hoseok strolled over, two fresh cocktails in his hands, offering the two girls the glasses with his stunning smile. “How’ve you been, darling? Been writing your new book?”
Alice turned on her coy smirk, using her free arm to give Hoseok a side-hug, pecking his cheek like Y/N had done to her when she arrived. Lifting an eyebrow but holding her tongue, she watched Hoseok’s smile grow even wider, smugly. 
“Yeah, I’ve just finished the rough draft. It’s been a blast to write, totally different from what I usually do,” Alice took an over-confident sip of her cocktail, and Y/N tried her best to hold back her laughter when Alice immediately coughed at the taste of it. “Christ, Foxy, what is this, jungle juice?”
“Something adjacent to jungle juice, yes,” Hoseok chuckled, reaching out to take the gift bag Alice was still carrying, placing it on the coffee bar where several bags from other guests were– birthday gifts for Taehyung. 
“Tastes like you made it in the goddamn sink,” Alice muttered, all while taking another sip. 
Snorting, Y/N was about to mention that Hoseok originally wanted to make it in the sink, but she heard her name being called, so she hastily excused herself, searching for the source of the voice amongst the crowded kitchen. 
“Honey! In here,” Y/N discovered that it was her mother calling her from the dining room, frantically motioning for her to join her, Y/N hoping she wasn’t about to tell her she had some kind of disturbing vision again. 
“What’s going on? There aren’t even any lights on in here, why are you lurking in the dark like this?” Y/N asked, growing more suspicious by the second. 
“I wanted to ask you if you finished working on Taehyung’s gift,” her mother, though originally a little wary of Taehyung after her vision about him many months ago, had warmed up to him by then. She had the feeling it was due to how sweet and affectionate Taehyung was around Y/N, and the fact that Y/N was so completely comfortable with him. 
“Of course I did. I worked on it whenever he was at the rec center! It’s all set up for later,” Y/N replied, a little ticked that she was pulled away from the party just to get interrogated about her work ethic. 
“Good, good. He looks happy! Not as shy as he once was,” her mother commented blithely, making Y/N hum. 
“I think the club had something to do with that,” Y/N started to drag her mother back into the kitchen, eager to get back to her friends and make sure there weren’t any shenanigans going on. “Did you see the portraits he took of us hung up on the stairwell?”
Y/N was able to deliver her mother to Ben, who was more than willing to keep her occupied by telling her about Daisy’s newfound interest in painting, and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to find her hideous-tasting cocktail waiting for her on the island. She was mid-bite of a particularly juicy chocolate covered strawberry when she spotted Taehyung, who was by the fridge, chatting with Yoongi. Both of them were dressed in clothes she had gotten the two of them for Christmas, and it made her very happy that Taehyung had allowed himself to get closer to Yoongi, especially in recent weeks. 
Downing the rest of her drink, she rounded the island as best she could, giving Jeongguk a playful flick on the back of his head as she passed by him, an unlit cigarette between his lips as he was heading towards the slider to the backyard. He rolled his eyes, patting the top of her head condescendingly before he vanished, Y/N approaching Taehyung and Yoongi. 
“Hi, having fun?” Y/N greeted them, Taehyung nodded, leaning against the fridge with a content look. “Good idea for having a bunch of charcuterie boards, Tae.” 
“You got a little,” Tae motioned around his mouth area like she had something on her face, but before she could use her cocktail napkin to wipe her face sheepishly, Yoongi set down his glass of wine.
 Tongue peeking out to dampen his thumb, he got rid of smudge of chocolate on the corner of her mouth, popping the digit into his mouth without so much as a second thought, Y/N staring at him like he lost his fucking mind. 
“Got it,” Yoongi picked his wine glass back up, licking his lips with a devilish grin, Taehyung simply watching the scene unfold in front of him with boredom. 
“Whoa, my grandma used to do that to me during Sunday dinners,” Ben interrupted, Taehyung stepping aside so her friend could access the freezer for more ice. “Hey, Yoongi. I was wondering if I could ask you something.”
Y/N froze, jumping to the conclusion that Ben would confront the leopard hybrid after the brunch she had with him a couple of weeks ago, though that was hardly within his nature. Though protective of her, Ben wasn’t one to throw her under the bus, and Y/N had to quickly compose herself so none of her hybrids would catch the scent of alarm on her. Yoongi, unperturbed, regarded Ben with a lazy flicker of one of his spotted ears. 
“Go ahead,” Yoongi enunciated slowly, the only indication that he was as wary as Y/N. 
“You can say no, of course, but Y/N mentioned that you were teaching her how to play piano. I was wondering, if you had time during the week, if you could stop by and give Daisy some lessons? We’ll pay you for your time, naturally,” Ben proposed, Y/N nearly fainting with relief. 
“Oh, uh… yeah, I’d have time for that. I’m only at the rec center three times a week in the evenings. Do Monday afternoons work?” Yoongi’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, apparently taken aback. 
“Works for us! Here, come with me, we gotta tell Roy. He’s been wanting to sign her up for lessons for weeks, he has a bunch of questions…” Ben held his hand out, beckoning for Yoongi to follow him into the parlor where his fiance was entertaining Daisy with Jimin. 
Y/N saw that as an opportunity to steal Taehyung away from the party, grabbing his hand lightly. He didn’t protest, or even ask why she was leading him towards the staircase, but he clung to her side as if he could sense her growing anticipation. 
“Where are we going?” Taehyung finally asked curiously, taking steps two at a time to keep up with Y/N’s jog upstairs. 
“I wanna show you your gift!” Y/N breathed with effort after scaling the staircase, leading the Kodiak hybrid down the hall to what was once a large, unused walk-in closet of sorts, perhaps for linens back in the home’s heyday. Y/N used an old key she had stashed in her pocket to unlock the old door, feeling Taehyung looming behind her and breathing down her neck. 
Y/N fumbled for the lightswitch, stepping to the side and making a “ta-da!” gesture, Taehyung peering into the closet with rapt interest. 
Y/N had totally renovated the closet into a darkroom for Taehyung to develop photos in the home when he couldn’t access the rec center. She had begun doing a little research a months ago about how to DIY the room, and she thought it came out pretty successfully; two counters on either side of the closet– a “wet” and “dry” section of the room, fresh coat of dark paint on the walls, second-hand equipment she found on the internet, and the entire space lit with special low-light red bulbs. 
“What do you think! Pretty cool, right?” Y/N gushed, waltzing into the small room and pointing at the clothesline she had fastened to the walls so the Kodiak hybrid could hang his prints up to dry. “It’s like a home office for you, only a couple of doors down from your bedroom!”
“Y/N, you did this yourself?” Taehyung’s face had totally dissolved into shock, taking a shaky step into the dark room with large, rounded eyes. “It looks like the one in the rec center…”
“I had to do some research, but it was a blast to set up. Even if it was a challenge to work on it and keep it a secret from you, locking it up at night, hiding cans of paint… but I hope you like it!”
Taehyung looked around with glee, fingertips brushing over the newly installed countertops, Y/N perching herself on the chair she placed in the corner, admiring how diligently he checked everything out. The sleeves of his vintage sweater had slipped over his wrists again, Taehyung hastily pushing them up over his elbows so he could pick up one of the old cameras Y/N had dug out of the basement to give him. 
“You… Really like to go above and beyond, huh?” Taehyung surprised Y/N by making a teasing remark, spinning on his heel and taking a picture of her with the old camera. “Of course I like it, why wouldn’t I?” 
“So you’re teasing me now, too? Taking tips from Yoongi?” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, though something told her Taehyung didn’t quite know how to react to the situation. 
Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head, before he stalked up to Y/N on the chair and used his hands to haul her to her feet by hooking them under her armpits, crushing her in, well, a bear hug. Y/N went limp in his arms, unable to breathe but in bliss with the way he was holding her tightly, sandalwood fragrance intoxicating her. 
“Happy birthday, Tae,” Y/N murmured into his sweater, his arms tightening around her waist even more with her words. 
“We should probably go back downstairs…” Taehyung pulled away from her, the red lighting of the room bringing out his eye color more than ever before. “I think people are looking for you.”
“Curse of being the hostess,” Y/N sighed, linking her arm with his. “It’s time for cake, anyways!”
Taehyung hummed, snuggling close into her side as they began to return to their guests and the other hybrids, though as they got to the bottom step into the foyer, Taehyung bent down to whisper in Y/N’s ear. 
“Thank you, for everything.”
“Anything for you.”
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“You’re so busy these days! I miss you…” Y/N hung onto the hem of Yoongi’s thermal like a child, waiting for him to shut the soundproof doors of the music room and unable to keep the whine out of her voice. 
“You’re busy, too, sweetheart. Didn’t you say there’s something coming up for you at work in the next few weeks?” Yoongi shook off her grip on his clothing, pointing at the loveseat so they could catch up. 
It had been a week since Taehyung’s birthday, the first Friday of January, and Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she had a piano lesson with Yoongi due to their conflicting schedules. 
“Yeah, I still have to think about it. Judy has this opportunity coming up, but it wouldn’t involve just me,” Y/N collapsed onto the loveseat, making grabby hands for Yoongi to sit beside her. 
“So tell me. You don’t want to do it?” Yoongi put his arm around her, his eyes a little sleepy from his hectic week of basketball practices and traveling back and forth to Ben’s to teach Daisy. Y/N sighed, launching into a recount of her meeting with Judy the day before. 
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“Y/N, I’ve been thinking about asking you about something for a while, do you have a moment before you head home?” Judy announced vaguely, as Y/N was closing the blinds to the storefront at the end of her shift. 
“Of course,” Y/N adjusted the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder, Judy looking incredibly pleased with that answer. 
“I’m sure you’ve noticed since you started working here, people will come in every once and a while asking for help in the area of paranormal activity in their homes or places of business,” Judy began, brushing sandy curls out of her face. “I used to be able to travel to these locations and do consultations and cleansings, but not so much anymore with the growing popularity of my readings here at the shop.”
“Right,” Y/N nodded, already knowing where the conversation was heading. 
“I’ll cut to the chase. Would you be interested in taking up that responsibility? The pay would be higher, and you successfully cleansed your own home,” Judy clasped her hands in front of her, looking ever-so-hopeful. 
“I… The opportunity sounds interesting, and I’d like to say that I could commit to it, but with my hybrids at home…” Y/N already felt bad enough she had to be away from them three times a week, so the additional hours and traveling filled her with hesitance. 
“I thought of something to remedy that. You mentioned to me that you performed banishments and cleansings at your home with the help of two of your hybrids. I was thinking between the three of you, you could have somewhat of a ‘team’ that would do the consultations.”
“You mean Namjoon and Jeongguk?” Y/N blinked, taken aback. 
“Yes, the two gentlemen I met a little after Lammas,” Judy confirmed, referring to the time she had brought the hybrids to the strip mall for ice cream in August. “They’d make perfect additions. The wolf hybrid, you told me, has a wealth of knowledge for the paranormal, and your elk hybrid is experienced with exorcism.”
“I– I’d have to ask them about it,” Y/N replied weakly, knowing that Namjoon would likely pounce on the opportunity, but talking to Jeongguk could go either way. Considering Jeongguk wasn’t a part of any clubs, and Namjoon only left the house on Mondays for the book club, it would give both of them the chance to get out more. “Can I get back to you?”
“Absolutely. I should tell you, as well, you’d have total control over how the team would operate, so you’d have quite a bit of freedom. I think you’d end up preferring it over sitting in a nearly empty shop most days.”
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Y/N was shoving Yoongi by his shoulder as he belly laughed at her, his eyes scrunched up into slits. 
“Fuck you, Yoongi, stop laughing! What’s funny?” Y/N crossed her arms across her chest, waiting for him to stop gasping for breath with a frown. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Yoongi wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, collecting her shoulders and settling her back into his side with a kiss to her temple. “So, let me get this right. Your boss wants you to formulate a ghostbusting team with those two edgelords hotboxing that ancient van in our driveway right now?”
“It sounds fucking stupid when you say it like that, but yeah, that’s the gist of it,” Y/N snapped, though melting into Yoongi’s hold anyways. “I’ve got to talk to them over the weekend. I know Namjoon would be on board, but Jeongguk…”
Absently, Y/N’s fingertips began toying with the choker around her neck she hadn’t taken off since Namjoon fastened it there, chewing her lip. 
“I think you should do it. You got rid of whatever was on this property, remember? And you won’t have to sit behind a counter and send us memes all day out of boredom,” Yoongi squeezed her side, sobering up enough to take her seriously. 
“Okay, I’ll talk to them,” Y/N agreed, feeling better that she had Yoongi’s approval. “Um, when do you think we should…”
Yoongi knew where she was going without her having to finish her sentence. When do you think we should tell the others that we’re together?
“It needs to be up to you, sweetheart. I can handle it if they’re pissed at me, but how they’ll react to you after they find out is what concerns me,” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, Y/N considering that. “We need to be delicate about it, I think.”
Yoongi was tip-toeing around the fact that Y/N still had to confess her feelings to the six others, which had her gritting her teeth. 
“I’ll work something out. Jesus, I feel like I’m planning a press conference,” Y/N tipped her head against the back of the couch, heaving a sigh through her nose. “I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want.”
“Is that right?” Yoongi’s tone turned playful, dropping an octave or two. “In front of everyone?”
Feeling the mood shift, Y/N forgot all about the piano lesson she was supposed to be in the middle of, something heating up in her stomach as Yoongi smirked, looking down his nose at her. 
“You know what I mean,” Y/N whispered, electrified. 
“I do?” Yoongi’s expression turned thoughtful, his ears fluttering as Y/N curled her legs sideways on the couch so she could face him. “You think I want that, too?”
“Whatever, guess not,” Y/N attempted to look away, a tad embarrassed. She was stopped, however, by a gentle grip on her chin. 
“You want me to kiss you in front of everyone, show them what you mean to me?” 
Y/N was silent, throat parched as she read the primal possession in his feline eyes. Swallowing as best she could to lubricate her esophagus, all she could hear was a gentle ticking coming from a clock sitting beside the new record player she had gotten Taehyung for Christmas. 
“Hmm… I don’t know if you really want that,” Yoongi continued, sounding almost bored, unaffected. 
“Yoongi.”
“Sweetheart?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” Y/N growled, bracing her hands on his shoulders and leveling him with an annoyed glare. 
Yoongi stared her down, still appearing unmoved, before he took her by surprise and surged forward urgently, the grip on her chin moving to the back of her neck, yanking her into his lips, the leopard hybrid’s mouth muffling the cry she let out. 
Unlike the kiss she stole from him the day before Christmas Eve, this one was full of fire and ice, Yoongi working his mouth so intensely against her own, Y/N imagined cartoon stars floating around her head like a halo. Still a little put off by his teasing earlier, she kissed him back just as eagerly, boldly nibbling his bottom lip eliciting a feral hiss from his chest. The expulsion of air opened his mouth enough for Y/N to swipe her tongue across the flesh she had just bitten, one of her hands cupping Yoongi’s jaw to keep him in place. 
Yoongi, in retaliation, tilted his head sideways, Y/N’s mouth parting because of it, his tongue sweeping into her mouth promptly in an attempt to regain control. Y/N, at that moment, didn’t want to relinquish it quite yet. Eyes still shut, she increased the strength at which she was clutching the side of his face, using her core to swing one knee over Yoongi’s lap, settling down on his thighs and resting her free hand over his purring chest. 
All too soon, however, she needed air, breaking free from the lip lock with a thin string of saliva still connecting them, Y/N’s chest heaving as she dove in for more– this time going straight for Yoongi’s neck. The leopard hybrid grunted, his hands sliding down her body to settle heavily on her hips, the sensation of her hot mouth on the sensitive skin of his neck overwhelming. Y/N kissed below his earlobe, unable to get enough, loving the quiet sounds coming from Yoongi’s swollen lips, trailing her kisses to his clavicle, skimming the chain that was around his neck.
“Baby,” Yoongi’s strained voice came out as a feathery breath, like he was trying to control himself, and Y/N returned to his mouth, moaning softly at the way his scorching fingertips wormed their way under her tee-shirt, skimming the skin of her lower back. 
“Mm?” Y/N hummed against his mouth, getting dizzy from the way his tongue slid against hers sensually. She never wanted the moment to end, no matter how much she was sweating– and how strong the spark of arousal was between her legs. 
Adjusting her position on his lap, Yoongi went quite still when she settled more weight on top of him, one of her own hands sneaking up the front of his shirt to settle over his pounding heart indulgently. Pulling away with a warning nip to the corner of her jaw, the sharpness of his canines against her flaming skin having her gasping, Yoongi sat back with a regretful look on his face, holding onto her hips to keep her somewhat hovering over his lap. 
“Love, we can’t… not until we tell everyone else. There’s no excuse that could cover up… the scent,” Yoongi managed, eyes softening at Y/N’s desperate pout. 
“Scent?” Y/N leaned forward despite the warning, pecking his lower lip indulgently
Yoongi glanced down at their laps expectantly, Y/N getting what he was implying like a freight train hit her. 
“Oh god. That’s embarrassing,” Y/N panicked, starting to move off of his lap, when he caught her with a grunt, keeping her seated on top of her. 
“Embarrassing? It’s natural. Come on, silly girl,” Yoongi growled, tucking hair behind her ears tenderly all the while. “Still. Wait just a little longer for me, okay?”
Y/N relented, the fire slowly leaching from her veins as she nestled her head into Yoongi’s chest, hiding her moping. 
“You waited for me all this time. I’ll wait for you.”
“Cheesy,” Yoongi snickered, soothingly passing her hands up and down her back. “Why don’t we get started with the lesson? Have you been practicing?”
“Let me hold you for a bit more,” Y/N whined, nuzzling her cheek into the crook of his neck. 
Yoongi snorted, planting a kiss on the top of her head, but indulging her anyway. He always was a pushover, when it came to her. 
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Y/N was sitting in her car, half-frozen while she waited for it to heat up, staring at the phone in her hand. 
Sarah Good: Hi, Y/N! Thank you for reaching out over email about getting Hannah and Seokjin together before we move. How’s lunch at Salem’s on January 11th?
Resisting the urge to honk for Seokjin to get a move on within the house, she swallowed down nerves and adjusted her sweater dress twitchily. She had told Seokjin about the planned lunch weeks ago, and watched how excited he became as the days rolled on, and it was finally time to meet up with Sarah and Hannah. Y/N was about to send a text to Seokjin to get him to come outside when she spotted him hurrying down the icy driveway, wrapped up in a giant lavender puffer jacket. 
“Cold,” Seokjin whimpered as he climbed into the passenger seat, but retaining his merry expression. “Oh! You’re wearing the jacket!”
Indeed, Y/N had the baby pink sherpa jacket he and Hoseok had given to her for Christmas. It had become her favorite coat simply because they had gifted her, but also because seeing the delight on both of their faces when she wore it was absolutely priceless. 
“Matches my dress, see?” Y/N lifted the skirt of her pink sweater dress playfully, Seokjin definitely making sure she was wearing the skin-toned thick tights underneath it. “Don’t worry, I’m warm enough!”
Y/N threw her car into gear as soon as Seokjin was buckled in, his hand immediately seeking out hers, squeezing it eagerly. 
“So, are you excited to see her?” Y/N asked nonchalantly, after several minutes of listening to Seokjin hum along to the radio. 
“I am. I hope she’s recovered from her injuries…” Seokjin admitted, his mouth screwing up in concern. 
“I’ve been in touch with Sarah, she said that Hannah is doing wonderfully, all healed up! Sarah said there’s a great gymnastics team for hybrids in the area of New York she’s moving to that Hannah is interested in joining,” Y/N brushed her thumb over the back of Seokjin’s hand, something that he typically did whenever he thought she was stressed or nervous. 
“She’ll love that,” Seokjin replied tenderly, his legs bouncing up and down in anticipation. Y/N, despite herself, smiled empathetically, Seokjin’s concern for others rubbing off on her infectiously. 
Minutes later, they arrived at the brewery, Y/N trying to park as close to the building as she could out of Seokjin’s disdain for the frigid January temperature. 
“I don’t think they’re here yet, we’re a little early,” Y/N cleared her throat, finally able to get a good look at the jaguar hybrid beside her. He looked breathtaking, as he normally did, the pastel purple of his coat complimenting his sunset eyes, wavy hair parted off of his forehead, and smelling fresh and clean. “We can wait in here or go get a table? What do you think, honey?”
Seokjin opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Y/N’s ringtone, which she answered quickly without checking the caller ID. 
“Y/N? It’s Sarah! We just got here, parked towards the back,” a raspy, friendly female voice came in from the receiver, Y/N blinking rapidly as she observed Seokjin flinging his door open, promptly jumping out of the Land Cruiser. 
“O-oh, we’re here too! We’ll meet you at the door!” Y/N rushed out, hanging up before she could lose track of Seokjin, who was a blur of pastel and puffer jacket dashing across the parking lot. 
Y/N hardly had the time to lock the car before chasing after the jaguar hybrid, avoiding the black ice as best she could in the midst of her scrambling. 
“Jinnie!” A melodic, high and sweet voice exclaimed, chock-full of thick feeling, called across the parking lot, Y/N nearly tripping over her own boots at the sound of it. 
Pausing, Y/N watched the scene in front of her unfold like it was a movie she was watching in a theater, Seokjin screeching to a halt, arms wide as a slight figure darted into view. It was a young woman, around Seokjin’s age, with glimmering strawberry-blonde hair and peachy cat ears with a matching tail, who without any prompting, launched herself into Seokjin’s arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as she shook with emotion. 
Seokjin caught her with graceful ease, though his knees buckled nervously as well, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head softly. Even from a considerable distance away from him, Y/N could spot the tear running down Seokjin’s cheek, a stabbing pain striking though her chest. Ears ringing, Y/N stared at the two embracing, biting the inside of her cheek painfully when she heard Seokjin’s throaty response. 
“Hannah, I missed you.”
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shadowdaddies · 10 months
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Hi:) I'm so happy that I am not annoying you with all the Eris requests, I really thought I was. May I ask for another one? One where the reader and Eris are mates and she is had always desired to dance with someone but she never had the chance and he arranges that. Please🙏
No you have NEVER annoyed me!! I've never been annoyed by requests, it brings me so much joy when you guys enjoy my writing💜 I appreciate you
A/N: oh this made me EMOTIONAL thinking about Eris with a mate where he doesn't care about how others perceive them, he's only focused on them
Dance with Me
Eris x fem!Reader
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You were perched in Eris’s lap as he spent another late night in his office, sorting through reports that had him tugging at his flame red hair in frustration. Wiggling on his lap, your nose nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his comforting scent as you pressed a soft kiss to his skin. Eris stiffened beneath your gentle touch, letting out a quick exhale. 
“I need a break,” he announced, hands wrapping securely around your waist as he lifted you from his lap. Eris stood from his chair, smirking at you as he took your hand in his and led you to the open space of his office, between his desk and the fireplace. “I need a dance with my lady, if I am to make it through this evening,” Eris spoke dramatically, bowing to you before he offered his hand. You giggled at your mate’s propriety - he was such a skilled dancer, and you were thankful that he entertained your attempts at the activity. 
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hand that made you blush furiously before pulling you into his arms and leading you in a silent waltz. Eris’s heartbeat, the crackle of the fire, and your laughter as you tripped over his feet - only for him to catch you in a graceful dip - echoed through the study. Amber eyes glowing with amusement, Eris smiled as he twirled you around the floor.
It was a favorite pastime for him to dance when he was stressed, and you loved learning something new from your mate. You dreamt of dancing in a beautiful ballgown, your mate leading you in front of the courts one day. Eris could tell you were lost in thought, a soft smile playing on his lips as he twirled you. “What’s on your mind, little vixen?” 
You blushed, laughing nervously as you told Eris what you were dreaming about, but rather than laughing with you, Eris stopped the dance. Tilting your chin up, amber eyes looked deep into yours as Eris promised you, “I will not allow my mate’s dreams to remain such. I can think of no higher honor than to dance with you for everyone under this sky to witness.” Melting at his poetic way with words, you broke form, holding Eris close as you slow danced to no music, just the sound of his heart beating with yours.
~~~
Weeks passed, and before you knew it, the Autumnal Equinox was around the corner. It was an obscenely grand celebration in the court - for obvious reasons - and you had spent weeks helping plan the festivities and having fittings for your gown. 
The Equinox was a twenty-four hour celebration, recognizing the equal hours of day and night as the season turned - but the night festivities were the highlight of the year, when the grand ball was held. The ball always began as a formal, civilized affair, but around midnight inevitably devolved into hedonism and debauchery that put Calanmai to shame.
You smirked at your form in the mirror, the shimmering ruby dress adorned with gold-toned leaves accentuating your figure perfectly. A knock on your door sounded, and one of your ladies-in-waiting who had helped ready you for the evening answered it with the excitement that you all shared amongst yourselves. Eris let out a soft laugh though the doorway at her eager expression, but all joking disappeared from his face as he looked to you. 
Eris stumbled back a step as he admired you, the slightest bit of silver lining his eyes as he let out a small gasp. “You look... ethereal, my Lady,” Eris breathed, his eyes never leaving yours as he held out his arm for you to take. 
You arrived at the ball, Eris seemingly still dazed by your appearance as the grand doors swung open to reveal the room of people. Many males watched as you entered, anyone who dared approach you earning a frightening snarl from Eris. You didn’t mind, leaning into his warmth as he wrapped an arm protectively around you and led you through the crowd.
Swiping champagne from a serving tray, Eris handed a glass to you and toasted to the beginning of Autumn. You watched the dancing for awhile, admiring the twirl of skirts and the rhythm of the music as they spun around the floor, all the while Eris gossiping about court politics and scandals that had you snickering in amusement. You had finished your drink, leaning into Eris’s side when the dance ended, and with a wicked gleam in his eye, Eris took your champagne flute, setting it down as he pulled you to the floor.
“Eris! I can’t dance here, I haven’t had enough practice for this yet,” you whispered as he smiled down at you with a twinkle in his eye. “You’ll do just fine, vixen. Just like we practiced - and I’m always here to catch you if you fall.” You felt the deeper emotion behind his words, taking hold of his hand as you lifted your chin and settled into practiced form. 
The swell of the violin signaled the start of the dance, and Eris led you in a waltz as the orchestra played, groups of people stopping to watch as you fumbled your way through the motions. “Breathe, my love,” Eris whispered in your ear - just before you stumbled. Holding onto one of your hands, Eris spun you in a perfect circle before catching your waist, dipping you as if your mistake was a practiced maneuver. People cheered from the sides, impressed by your skill while you and Eris continued the dance. You felt like a princess, your own skirt flaring out as you spun around the ballroom with the love of your life. 
The dance ended, Eris pulling you in for a deep kiss as the crowd again clapped for you. The adrenaline from the performance was coursing through your veins, and you hadn’t registered your surroundings until you felt the cool breeze of night air against your skin. Standing with Eris on the balcony, you smiled so hard your face hurt as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “This was the best night of my life. Better than any of my dreams,” you whispered, tucking a strand of fiery red hair behind Eris’s ear.
“The night isn’t over yet,” Eris said, a mischievous hint in his tone as he let you go, walking back to take a paper lantern from the staff. You looked around the yard, realizing it must be nearly midnight as you took in the people scattered about with their own lanterns ready. The clock struck, clanging out as Eris lit your lantern with his flame, and you sent it up into the sky with the others. 
You watched the lanterns float away in the night until they disappeared over the horizon, turning to Eris. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt his own settle over your back and you whispered, “so what now, my love?” Eris let out a dark chuckle. “After midnight is when the real debauchery begins.” With that, you were winnowed back to your bedroom, Eris looking at you with a deeply hungry expression, tilting your chin to look at him. “And you wouldn’t believe the debauched things I plan to do to you tonight, little vixen.”
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minkufu · 6 months
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Next up in the Evil Queen AU roster~
Name: Vitoria Valentina / ViVi / Furfur Age: 28 Height: 5'7" Affiliation: 2nd rank of the royal guard. Executioner and the Queen's favorite. Flame Type: Storm Weapon(s): Chakrams. Ring Blade/Cyr Wheel. Pointed Stilts. Box Weapon: Colibrì Tempesta Voice Insp: Erin Yvette (Scylla) Sarah Stiles (Spinel) Music Insp: I Am Gonna Claw Love te Wonderland Nui Harime
Extra details below:
Former star of her families traveling circus, Vitoria is an exceptionally skilled acrobat, dancer, and contortionist. She was personally recruited by the Queen and swiftly cut ties with her family, favoring the status and luxury that came with performing for royalty over the modest lifestyle of a small time circus.
Vitoria is the most ambitious and vicious of the guard. She keeps up her lively entertainer persona even when handling the Queen's targets, always happy to make a show out of the carnage. When she is the one chosen for a particular task, it means the Queen wants someone permanently off her playing playing field.
Vitoria is often paired with Murmur in part because his supporting abilities make her job significantly easier, but also because she believes it fitting to have someone that can provide music for her performances on the field. Although Murmur isn't particularly receptive to her style and his usually gloomy melodies clash with her energy.
Her respect and loyalties are exclusive to the Queen. Vitoria idolizes her majesty and goes above and beyond to exceed her expectations whenever possible. However her egocentric and confrontational nature often put her at the center of conflict amongst the other guards, especially with her superior Delilah, who stands at rank 1 and works alongside the Queen as her personal bodyguard and maid.
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@anonimusunnoaniswriting @erebus-et-eigengrau our Regency-era vampire lover is back, and this time, there’s something he wants to tell you…will you hear him out? 😇
Part 1 is here.
wc: 2033 (holy shit this got LONG)
Notes: Regency au, fem!reader, dark-ish romance, some form of mind/body control but it’s still sfw (for now)
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There is a ball two days before your wedding.
As the soon-to-be wife of the season’s most eligible bachelor, your presence is required. All eyes are on you as you enter the room, wearing a brand-new gown paid for by none other than your future husband, the jewels and hairpiece a gift from him as well.
Even those who give you sour looks have to admit you are the luckiest woman alive. To have a man who spoils you so much and asks for nothing but your affection is what they all hope for as well. They cannot help their envy as you hesitantly enter the room, your attire a sharp contrast to your demeanour.
People pretend to forget who you are and where you come from when they greet you, focusing instead on your upcoming nuptials and offering their congratulations. You thank them with all the graciousness you can muster, fighting back the urge to turn and flee for home.
To your relief, he finds you within minutes, and sweeps you into a corner; this is his last chance to see you before the wedding ceremony, and he is going to make the most of these fleeting moments.
You think his eyes glow from the light of the fire nearby, but it’s strange how they become this red. Or how the colour never flickers with the flames. His hand rests on the small of your back; the sensation steadies you, keeps you grounded amongst all the compliments and stares.
“How are you, my dearest?” He asks, kissing the back of your hand. His teeth flash white as he smiles.
“I am well,” you reply. “A touch apprehensive, but otherwise well.”
“Apprehensive?” He repeats. “Are you having doubts?”
You shake your head. “No doubts. But our match has the eyes of the ton. There are far too many people stepping in.”
“Not to worry, my dear.” His voice drips with honey, soothing you. “Pay no attention to this ton. You and I are the only ones who matter. Once we are wed, we shall return to my estate in the far north and never see their eyes again if you don’t wish it.”
That does sound like an appealing prospect. “It’ll be like the days of my girlhood again,” you sigh, reminiscing on the past, when all was well and you could only see the vast meadows around your father’s home, rolling hills just beyond.
“It will,” your betrothed assures you, voice still honeyed. “Come, let us dance. We shall show the ton what they are about to lose.”
It might be the wine you drank earlier, or perhaps it’s the sheer nervousness, but you cannot seem to control your legs. They walk to the centre of the ballroom as if commanded by some other force. But when you look up into your dearest’s still-red eyes - how odd - you know you are safe.
He has always made sure of it.
You curtsey and look into his eyes as the dance begins. Are they still red? How odd. The lights here do not glow the same way as the fire does, so how are his eyes still the same from then? It makes no sense.
But there are many things about your future husband that make little sense.
He is incredibly averse to sunny days, and only reluctantly agrees to promenade with you when the sky is clear and bright; his preference leans towards courting you indoors. He rarely attends daytime events during the season - you have long grown used to seeing him at the latter half of balls.
Not that it matters when he comes to your side. When he smiles at you and takes your hand in his, nothing else matters.
You know that despite his oddities, you will be happy with him. Perhaps what you feel isn’t love yet, but whatever it is, you are confident love will grow.
It is unbearable to think of the alternative.
As the music crescendos and dies down, you curtsey to him again and he bows as well, signalling the conclusion of the dance. As the dancing pairs drift away, he offers you his gloved hand. “Shall we walk?”
****
The gardens are illuminated by a thousand miniature lights. Guests linger in the shadows, seizing an opportunity to experience the world in a way their chaperones will never permit.
Your own chaperones have begun to leave you to your own devices at balls since the official announcement, particularly when your soon-to-be-husband is with you. In two days, you will no longer be their problem. You will no longer be anyone’s problem. Instead, you will be cherished and kept happy. Or so you hope.
“Come,” he says, gesturing to a nearby stone bench, voice honeyed again. What is it about these tones that makes you lose control of your body? In this moment, your movements do not feel like your own.
When the two of you are seated comfortably, his voice changes. Gone is the honeyed voice that takes control. Gone is the confident man who met you all those balls ago and said you should have more suitors. In his stead is a man who is all seriousness, whose handsome face looks darkly solemn as he faces you.
His eyes are still red. Even if a little dull.
“My darling,” he begins, “there is something I believe you must know. It would not be right for us to wed without you being aware of it.”
Your stomach lurches. What does he mean? Does he no longer care about you anymore? Is there someone else in his life? Will you be a wife in name alone?
He smiles and takes your hand. “Don’t be so distressed, dearest one. We will be married. If you still wish for it, that is.” His face falls.
“What do you mean?” You ask hesitantly. “Why would I not wish for this? It’s all I have wanted since I met you…”
“Perhaps you will not want it once I tell you,” he says. “I will not hold it against you if you change your mind. But I would like you to promise me that you will keep my secret.”
“I will. And I’m certain that nothing will change my mind,” you tell him earnestly. You care for him too much to let go, and the shame of returning to your relatives after a broken engagement would be too much to bear. No matter what it is, you will marry him in two days.
His expression is almost pitying. What does he know that you do not?
As you gaze at him, you find that he is far more relaxed under the moonlight than he is on your afternoons together this season. His fingers lace through yours - hesitantly. The first time they have ever been this way.
“Dearest,” he begins, “I am no ordinary man.”
��You are not,” you agree. “You are better than most of them in the ballroom.”
He shakes his head. “That is not what I mean.”
Then what does he mean?
“I am no ordinary man,” he repeats. “I haven’t been one in many years. Or should I say, many decades…”
Decades. The word lingers in the air. He looks only a few years older than you do. And yet, there is something about his gaunt yet handsome face that suggests he has seen more of life than anyone else - including the old Papas and Grandpapas back in the ballroom.
The puzzle pieces begin to fall into place.
“What I truly am has many names,” he tells you softly, perfect white teeth glowing in the darkness. You were not imagining their sharpness when you first met him; that’s real. “I travelled the world these last two decades and have learned all the things they call me. But in our language, it has one name.”
“Vampire,” you finish, heart pounding in your chest.
“Correct, my darling,” he whispers. “I am a vampire. I relish the darkness. I watch my friends age and die while I remain unchanged. And I thirst for one thing and one thing alone.”
Blood.
The pulse on your inner wrist throbs as he keeps your hand in his. It knows what he wants. You know what he wants.
“I have thirsted for you since the very first day I saw you,” he whispers. “I can sense the richness of your blood as it courses through your veins. You are the only one who can end the thirst I’ve been enduring for over a century.”
“Is…is that why you want to marry me?” You ask, almost accusingly. “A free and regular source of blood?”
He shakes his head. “My inner nature drew me to your blood. But my heart - silent as it may be since my change - drew me to you. To your smile. To your kindness. To everything you are aside from your veins.”
There is no honey in his voice - honey which you now suspect has something to do with his “inner nature.” He means every word he says.
“I will not take your blood if you do not wish it,” he continues. “I can endure, and you matter far more to me than my thirst. And if you wish to end our engagement, I will not stop you so long as you keep my secret. I will take the blame for our failure. But I did not want to conceal the truth from you any longer.”
The sadness in his red eyes makes it clear that he is telling you the truth. Even if it pains him, he will let you go if you do not want to marry him anymore.
You have read books about him and his kind. Like everyone else in the country, you believed that they had all fled to the Continent or been taken down by the Hunters. But he is here despite all that. He hid from everyone. From you. He danced with you and courted you, all the while seeking your blood. He wanted to marry you for you, but you know full well that your veins played a significant role in that decision.
…and is that really so bad?
Here is a man who wants you. A man who desires what you have. A man who has revealed his true nature so that this marriage will not be founded upon deceit.
And is blood such a big price to pay for that?
You doubt it.
But there is one question that remains to be answered.
“W-will you kill me once you have slaked your thirst?” You ask quietly.
“Never. I want you to stay by my side forever. I want to make you mine one day…but again, that is only if you wish it.”
Forever. He wants to be with you forever. To make you one of his kind.
He leans in and tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “What do you want to do, dearest one?” He asks, and is it your imagination? Or is his voice shaking as he speaks?
Well, it won’t have to shake for much longer.
“I want to marry you,” you whisper, forehead pressed against his. “I want to be by your side forever. I want to love you and be happy with you. That is the only thing that matters to me.”
Some might say you have made a rash choice. To marry a vampire is to run risk after risk. But you are not afraid.
Crowds frighten you. The ton frightens you. But this man, who cares for you and will not take your blood without your consent…he will never frighten you in that way.
He wants you.
He longs for you.
“Then,” he chuckles, voice steadying, “we will marry in two days.”
He leans in even further, lips brushing against your ear. “And when we are married and far away from this crowd, I will make you happy. I will give you the moon and stars and everything you desire.”
Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised when his honeyed tones return. But what does astonish you are the words accompanying it:
“I will love you and give you a place you can truly call home.”
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Part 3 coming soon, and I’m warning y’all in advance, it’s not gonna be sfw from any angle whatsoever 🤭🤭🤭
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kirbyystar · 1 year
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soft rengoku - headcannon
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A/n: i can only imagine his soft spot he has- the protective and loving kyojuro. This is somewhat similiar to Obanai in format wise- i will prolly end up doing almost all the hashiras lmao
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when kyojuro is in love, he's in love. he has a weak spot for your love- he easily folds for you. he's just very happy and proud to call you his. He loves the idea of you belonging to him, he isn't afraid to admit or confess. although at first- he didn't realize yet he was in love.. he just rather seen it as spending a lot of time with you. he enjoyed your visits, your presence, it soothes him. I think kyojuro would make lunches just for the two of you to enjoy together. he cooks a lot, especially your favorites kyojuro would definitely massage or pamper you if you had a long day. He'll gladly take you in his arms to hold you, his scent being your favorite thing to take in. He's very groom, loves to stay clean and work out a lot. He likes to invite you! But every time he does, he manages to turn it into a training session of you pushing your limit lol Big BIG fan of kissing. on the face, specifically. he'll pull you in to just attack with pecks down to your neck which causes a giggle out of you. he loves your voice, especially your laugh. Probably one of the first things he loved about you. How soothe and comfort your voice is. When you're feeling down or upset, he likes to spoil you! I think spending money on you is one of his love langauges. He'll come home from work with your favorite drink- your favorite meal. He loves to keep you happy Kyojuro bluntly talks about marriage- its been a few months of dating but he is set YOU ARE HIS PERSON. he cannot imagine feeling the way he does over you with another. No, he loves YOU. and he makes it very clear
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spending money is def a love language of his.
very openly of the fact hes in love with you
hes big spoon in bed, he likes to scooch you in to him and fall asleep like if ur a damn teddy bear lol
dinner and lunch are his favorite part of the day because he cooks, and he loves to make you happy with food
even if hes had a long day of work, he puts you first. but alas you always baby or comfort him like a good s/o u are
he likes your music! he recommends a lot of artists for you
matching pjs are a must.
surprisingly, he lets you try make up on him
he mocks u if he does lmao ^
you both like to be competitive
both of you start a book, and whoever can finish first wins, the loser has to treat the other lol
hes very good with kids and definitely wants his own.
kyojuro is willing to try anything with you
he likes to teach you new things
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You were introduced as a hashira during a meeting amongst the others. Nervous, you didn't know anyone so all eyes were just on you lol. Mitsuri firstly introduced herself to you, among Shinobu. The three of you almost became a trio pretty quickly. You were always intrigued by kyojuro but never got to properly meet him. One day, you were assigned a mission and upon arriving met the flame hashira himself.
He was very impressed with your skills, and before you both knew it, majority of missions were spent together. This is when kyojuro realized how he felt. It wasn't anything big when he asked you to be his s/o, it was on way back to the estate he had popped the question. Of course, you said yes!
you really keep him happy lol
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his favorite thing to do with you is training or working out
although you become tired first, he doesn't stop until HE wants to
"c'mon my flame! you can do it!"
hes your literal #1 supporter
regardless of how much pressure he puts on you, he simply does it to encourage you!
favorite nickname: my flame, darling, baby, good girl
his love for you is an endless flame. Kyojuro loves you, and nothing can change that. you and him will always be a flame dancing around each other never blowing out.
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lou-struck · 10 months
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Fuel to the Fire
Kyojuro Rengoku x reader
25 Days of Ficmas Day 4
Modern Au!
WC:1.6k
~You love getting the mail during the holidays but when you receive a letter you have no interest in looking at, your boyfriend has a solution. 
Warnings: Reader has a shit ex boyfriend, Guess who?, mentions of past relationship trauma, fear of abandonment, a bit of crying but its all good, happy ending.
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Your fingers furiously dance across your keyboard as you search through your laptop. Your work is having a party at the end of the week to celebrate the holiday season, and they chose to do a Secret Santa gift exchange amongst the coworkers. 
When the time came for you to pick your Secret Santa out of the hat, you chose one of your friends from the other department. Immediately, you knew what you had to get for them. 
They are really into your city’s local music scene, so you wanted to throw in two tickets to see a new band they are interested in before they leave to go on tour. You are on the venue’s website, but when you go to buy the tickets, you realize they don’t actually go on sale until tomorrow.
With a frown, you shut your laptop, sliding it under the couch, hoping you’ll remember to get them tomorrow. 
As you wallow in your poor timing, the front door opens with enthusiasm. The chilly outside air clashes with the heat from the small flames that are dying out in your fireplace as your Fiance Kyojuro Rengoku walks in, “I’m home,” he declares happily, greeting the familiar walls you painted together with a big smile. The world around you seems to brighten up as if he had just pulled the sun from the cloudy sky and placed it in the center of your living room. His smile is infectious, and you find yourself returning it with one just as gleeful.
When his gaze of gold and Crimson lands on you, the look of pure, energetic joy becomes impossibly more so in a way that can make you feel like the only person in the world. “Guess what?” he asks, practically bounding towards you, his arms full of what you can only assume to be teaching materials. 
How is it possible to smile so much from simply seeing another person? Your cheeks hurt just a bit, but it’s well worth it. “What is it?” 
“Dinner is on its way,” he cheers. Setting the bumble of parchment down on the table to give you his full attention. “I ordered some food from that new place across from the school, and I heard from my students that it’s going to be Tasty.”
You can’t help the snort you make at his enthusiasm. To Kyojuro, any food that hits his plate is tasty, but still, your mouth waters at the prospect of an easy meal with your partner after a long day. “Thank you for ordering,” you say gratefully, wrapping your arms around his incredibly warm frame. 
It’s strange that no matter the temperature, he always runs hot. 
‘Probably because he is.’ you shamelessly think to yourself as he loosens his flame-patterned tie and unbuttons the top button from his off-white dress shirt. On anyone else, the combination could look strange, but with him and his two-toned golden and red hair, it looks natural.
“Guess what else I brought?” he grins, gesturing down to the pile of parchment he had abandoned in favor of giving you a squeeze. Upon closer inspection, you realize that they are not teaching materials at all; it’s a large stack of stamped envelopes.
“Are these all Christmas cards?” you ask excitedly, bending down and examining the pile more closely. There must be dozens of them here.
This year in particular, you and Kyojuro have been sent Christmas cards from practically everyone in your lives. It has gotten to the point that your small little mailbox has to be emptied daily. You have quite the collection of cards and love seeing pictures of your friends, family members, coworkers, and, of course, their pets. All the cheesy family-style photos fill your hearts with so much joy that the two of you have made a routine of opening them up together. 
Your fridge is completely covered in the cards, but you are sure there is room for more. Somewhere.
He laughs aloud, sensing your excitement. It has been a few days since you guys have had the time to go through all the cards, so there is a lot to catch up on. “I look forward to spending this time with you. I’ll go shower, and then we can look through them all together.”
 “Sounds perfect, Kyo, I’ll go grab the others and make us some tea.” you hum as he disappears down the hallway.
The gentle drumming of the showerhead can be heard down the hallway as you wander throughout your home, putting a kettle of water on the stove, toss a few logs on the dying fire, and pull out the large stacks of mail from the past few days to join with today’s haul. 
While it is true you have received an enormous amount of Christmas cards, you see other types of mail littered in the stack. Magazines, coupon sheets, bills. So you take it upon yourself to sort through the package before Kyojuro gets out of the shower. 
The large bushel of papers rests next to you on the couch as you begin to sort the mail into piles. One for junk mail and advertisements, one for bills and statements, one for coupons you would actually use, one for catalogs and magazines, and one much larger one for all your christmas cards. 
You listen to the wood crack in the fireplace as you peacefully read the labels on the various envelopes before you notice a single envelope with just your name printed on the front. You freeze, recognizing the return address belonging to your no-good-ex-boyfriend.
The same ex-boyfriend who cheated on you, repeatedly lied about it, and ran off to start some kind of cult.
Why would he be contacting you?
You have no love in your heart for that man. The best thing he ever did for you was break up with you so you could meet Kyojuro. 
The one who healed your battered heart with his genuine smiles and unconditional love.
Your mind’s going a million miles a minute as you worriedly wonder what you should do with this letter. 
You are so caught up with what to do with this damn letter you don’t notice Kyojuro come back into the room. His long hair is still damp from the shower as he comes to stand directly in front of you. “Our takeout is twenty minutes away~” he cuts himself off, and his usual relaxed smile drops when he sees the look of distress on your features. “What’s wrong, Fireball?”
What if he gets mad when he sees the letter and assumes the worst?
You drop your hand holding the letter quickly, guiltily, and look up at his with big eyes. “It’s nothing.” 
His features soften as he comes to sit next to you, not too close so that you can have your space until you can tell him what is bothering you. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.” his hand comes toward yours, and you tense up, believing he is going for the letter, but when it comes to rest gently on top of your own, your heart begins to beat again. 
‘He is kind,’ the voice in your head says to you. ‘He loves you and deserves the truth.’ 
With a deep breath, you show him the envelope. “It’s from him,” you say shakily. “I don’t know what he wants, but all I know is I don’t want anything to do with him.”
Kyojuro looks at you with nothing but gentleness and love in his eyes. “Do you want to open it?”
You shake your head quickly. You really don’t. Even holding this damn letter causes your skin to tingle and itch from stress. “I want nothing to do with him.” 
He nods supportively. “Would you want to get rid of it?” He waits for your nod before gently taking the envelope from your hand. 
“Thank you for being so cool about this,” you say softly, thinking back to years of gaslighting and guilt trips from relationships past. “I was worried you would think I was trying to communicate with him.”
There is a flash of pain in his eyes as he reaches out for you. But from the way he holds you against his beating heart, you know that the pain he feels is for you. “y/n, there is nothing in this world you could do to make me think any less of you. You are the spark that sets my heart ablaze.”
“That’s pretty hot, Kyo.” You sniffle quietly, your heart healed enough for you to make a pun. Even if no one else would laugh at your weak pun, Kyojuro’s laughter makes it seem like pure comedic genius. 
He hums and pulls a bit away from you, a gleam of inspiration in his gaze. “You have given me a wonderful Idea. Are you sure you want me to get rid of this letter?” he holds up the envelope with his usual bright smile as if it was as insignificant as junk mail.
“Yes, let’s toss it.” you giggle. 
“I have a better Idea,” he steps towards the fireplace and unceremoniously tosses the letter into the flames. They devour its new fuel, fluttering around the bricks in wild tendrils before dying down to their previous size mere seconds later.
As if it never existed in the first place...
Your eyes watch the last few scraps turn to dust, and you feel free.
“Just what I thought,” he laughs, placing his hands proudly on his hips in a little power pose. “Fire beats paper every time.”
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Tagging: @enchantedforest-network
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climbthemountain2020 · 5 months
Text
Flame of Autumn - Chapter 14
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Part 15/26 | Ao3
A long chapter for you guys today to close out the weekend!
[slight TW for previous mentions of torture]
Tilly
Tilly tripped over her own feet, laughing as she fell, a warm hand grabbing her around the waist and righting her. “For someone raised in a court that prides itself on dances, you have absolutely no sense of rhythm, my lady.” Eris laughed brightly, bowing to kiss her hand.
“Perhaps if you’d train those hooves you have for feet to not impair my dancing, my rhythm would improve.” She teased back, her heart wide open at the joy reflected back at her through her mate’s eyes. They’d been walking through the woods this morning and came upon a village playing music. Without getting too close, they’d decided to dance in the woods, laughing and touching like two younglings in love.
A sudden, strong tug in her chest pulled her forward to him as he grinned again, using the bond to reel her in as his soft lips met hers in a crushing kiss. It had been nearly two months since they’d accepted the bond, and it had been a blessing that Beron had left immediately after. As bad as the two of them had been before, it was increased tenfold the second Eris had put that pastry, amongst other things, into his mouth. The first week was the most difficult for them, neither one of them willing to come up for food, or water, or air. They needed fingertips, legs, tongues, making contact at all times, else they feared they’d lose themselves completely.
After that first frenzy, the need abated, but barely. With Beron gone more often, they could be a bit freer in their actions, but they weren’t so naive as to think he didn’t have spies all throughout the Forest House. This led to a number of clandestine escapades where one would tug the other into an alcove or closet away from prying eyes, unable to wait another moment. Poor Bray had been scarred walking into the library one day at an inopportune moment. The brothers and Cormac refused to train near the two of them at all until nearly the third week had passed, even then claiming how they reeked of sex.
Eris and Tilly had tried not to take it personally. The brothers had been supportive, feeling special considering they’d been the only ones Tilly and Eris had told of the bond. She didn’t miss the gleaming in Eris’ eyes as Killian clapped him firmly on the shoulder to tell him how truly happy he was for their great luck. She hadn’t told Eris about Killian’s family, but she knew that Killian understood how important this was–and how dangerous.
Once they’d been able to give each other enough space to breathe and function normally, they explored the other facets of their bond. Every so often, one would give the golden flaming tether a little tug, or send an emotion to the other. They practiced in bed–though, it usually led to distraction–and they practiced at a distance. Eventually, they were even able to send short snippets of thought to each other, though to Tilly it sounded like a garbled whisper from underwater and miles away. More than anything, she loved the ability to lob their feelings back and forth throughout the day. She loved feeling the closeness when she knew Eris was working but thinking fondly of her when a rush of affection would wash over her midday.
She loved the intimacy of the bond, the loving tethers of their relationship tightened and melded forever now that all the final walls had been peeled away. Circumstances were far from ideal, but Eris was so tender and loving with her, it was hard to feel anything but thankful when she was with him. Tilly had long been in love with him at this point, but the bond magnified everything, every single feeling, and there was nothing that quite compared to feeling the love of her mate every time he looked at her.
As agreed, they’d stopped taking the tonic after Beron’s threats, but nothing had come of it yet. They walked the line between relief and constant anxiety. She’d had her bleed close to Calanmai, so she knew it could happen at any time. Part of her hoped that the fae’s notorious delay in pregnancies would buy them more time, but they also dangled on a dangerous precipice of just a few more months before her time was up. Neither of them was foolish enough to doubt Beron’s seriousness about killing her, so they’d hatched a backup plan.
Unfortunately for everyone, this backup plan came with a request for help to the Night Court. If they were unable to conceive a child before the solstice, Tilly would flee, writing a note that said she was abandoning Eris so that he would not be blamed as severely for the departure. If all went well, she would be gone and safe in the Hewn City, tucked away from prying eyes, and they would figure out the rest from there. They were meeting with the Night Court again this afternoon to discuss the options with them, and Tilly certainly hoped there had been an attitude adjustment from the last time. She hated going into the situation with the intent to beg for help from the male she’d scolded so thoroughly, but she also hoped his remaining shame and guilt might work in her favor towards persuading them to assist.
Eris was a mess for a number of reasons. Tilly knew he hated going to Night Court even on a good day, and he also despised asking for help or looking weak in front of anyone but her. After centuries of being brutally punished for it, vulnerability was not something Eris came by honestly, and it touched her deeply to know how easily it seemed to come when it was just the two of them.
He’d been having nightmares since the day the bond snapped, and every few nights they would have him shooting up from a dead sleep, sometimes in tears, sometimes on fire and singing the sheets, always traumatized and seeking solace in Tilly’s arms. Through the bond, she could feel the nightmares, experience his terror as if it were her own. She would press kisses to his lips, his nose, his eyes and reassure him that she was there with him. He wouldn’t discuss the specifics of the dreams with her, but they were bad enough to have him shaking long after he’d woken up. There, in the dark, they would run their hands along each other, mouths finding purchase every so often in an unhurried manner, just reassuring them that the other was still there.
Today, waiting for her to pull on her boots, he fidgeted by their door, absently scratching Hestia and Cinder behind the ears while staring out of the window without really looking at anything. She was worried for him–the circles beneath his eyes drawing darker and deeper every day. She knew that the time winding down was weighing on him now, and she felt a stab of guilt as she had the passing thought that her body might be the problem causing him all this stress.
Eris’ eyes shot to hers, a concerned look on his face, and he was moving towards her before either of them could even say a word. “What is it, Til?”
“I just–I can’t help but feel that I have brought all this upon us. On you. I hate to feel like my presence here is causing you this much stress.” He grabbed her face gently in his hands, thumbs brushing along her jaw as he looked at her, the worry creasing his brows but an earnest and determined gleam in his eyes.
“Love, I want you to listen to me, and listen carefully, okay?” She gave a quick nod. “My life is infinitely better with you here, despite any other circumstances surrounding it. I am worried because I can’t bear the thought of a life without you in it, but I would also not change a bit of you and I for the world. I don’t want you to think for a single second I would be better off if you had not come here. I was never living before you arrived.” She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his chin.
“I love you, Eris. I don’t care how long it takes, we will do what we need to do and be free of him. You deserve that, and so much more.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Now let's go barter with some bats.”
++++
The Hewn City was as dark and dank as she remembered it, the halls carved from rock and regression. She could feel the negative emotions spilling from the stone around them as they walked to the meeting room together. She gave his hand a final squeeze as they entered, a final reassurance for the encounter. They were both shocked to find Rhysand there early, surrounded this time by Lucien and Azriel only.
“Rhysand. Little brother. Bat.” Eris said stiffly, pulling out a chair for Tilly.
“Eris, Tilly. Good to see you both.” He nodded to them as they sat. Rhysand at least looked somewhat humbled and less preening than the last time they’d been here; she hoped he was remembering that last encounter vividly. But all that aside, Tilly was still hung up on the words “little brother”. She’d never met the youngest Vanserra; he had not been born yet the time she’d attended the Forest House, and she was struck by how little he and Eris looked alike. They shared the same shade of bright red hair as Alanna, the same beautifully shaped eyes, and that was it.
Eris had skin like hers–as pale as the moon and freckled–but Lucien was tan. He was missing an eye, which everyone in Autumn was aware of. Everyone knew the lore of the lost son of Autumn, but seeing him here so close to Eris was a jarring comparison. He looked incredibly uncomfortable to be here in this room. She wondered why Rhysand had brought him at all.
“We have no further details on the faebane, but we need your help.” Tilly was surprised by the approach Eris was taking. None of his usual cavalier persona shone through today, and when she turned to look at him, she could see the worry etched into the lines of his face. The surprise was mirrored in the faces of the three males across from them.
“Tell us.” Rhysand implored.
“Beron will kill Tilly–kill my mate–at the solstice if she has not produced an heir. We need assistance. I know the time has not been right, and that is your prerogative, but Rhysand, I am begging you, put a plan into action. Please.” The shock on Lucien and Azriel’s faces was plain as day. Even Rhysand looked taken aback at Eris allowing a real look into the version of him he allowed no one to see. “If you cannot kill him, promise me you will get her out and provide her sanctuary before the solstice.”
Rhysand didn’t miss a beat. “We will dispatch someone. If they are unable to carry out the attempt, Tilly will have a place here in Night for as long as she wants it.” The relief in Eris’ face was evident, and his whole body sagged as though a weight had flown from his shoulders. Azriel spoke up, but directed it at Tilly.
“I have a contact in Autumn, a dryad. She’s very good at her job, and I can have her working on it within the week.” Tilly swallowed hard, nodding at him in thanks.
“We appreciate it. We tried it ourselves, but it did not work. You must let your contact know that poisons are not effective against him.” Azriel nodded back at her in thanks.
“We will do what we can,” Rhysand said firmly. He cleared his throat. “While you are here, I would like to sincerely apologize again for my actions at our last meeting. There have been…circumstances…as of late that have had me on edge, but that does not excuse my behavior.” He looked to Eris. “I know it was difficult for you to come and ask for help, and it is very clear to me that you care deeply for your wife. I hope that our attempts in Autumn might begin to heal a bit of the rift I caused last time.”
Eris looked stunned, like this was the last thing he’d ever expected from Rhysand. “Yes. Yes, I would like that.” Rhysand stood, extending a hand to Eris, who stood unsteadily and shook it.
“I understand how it feels to know your mate is living in constant danger. It is not something I would wish on anyone.” Eris nodded, and an understanding passed between them.
“In the meantime, I will continue trying to gain intel on the faebane, though we haven’t had any additional reports.”
“Send a missive when you have word, and we can set up another meeting. In the meantime, we will scout to see where we can find a weak spot. Hopefully, we will have made progress within the month and be able to move forward.” Through all of this, Lucien stood silently at Rhysand’s side, his mechanical, golden eye taking everything in, his mouth downturned. He refused to look at Eris, though he’d caught Tilly’s eye a few times. When they made to leave, Eris and Lucien moved around each other like two magnets, unable to get any closer, and no words were exchanged.
As they made their way through the halls, Tilly blushed as they passed a familiar alcove, but Eris was silent as a tomb. They winnowed back to Autumn, but not to the Forest House. Eris had brought them to the woods they both loved so dearly, into a beautiful clearing closer to Winter’s border, if the distant snowy peaks were any indication.
“Eris, talk to me?” She grabbed his elbow, resting her head on his shoulder. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then grabbed her hand gently and led them over to sit on a fallen tree, the stump nearly as large as a carriage.
“It’s hard to see Lucien. It’s always hard, but it’s harder now that I have someone to love.” The grief she felt from his end of the bond was staggering.
“Everyone in Autumn knows that Lucien abandoned his position in the line of succession and defected to Spring.” Tilly nodded. Everyone did know that in Autumn–it had been the story of the decade when it had happened. For years, all the noble families whispered about it endlessly. He had been the seventh son, so it wasn’t as though he would have ever been a true contender, but it was unheard of for a son of Autumn to defect. You either fought to the throne and ultimately ascended or you died, and that was the way it had always been.
“Do you know why he left?” Tilly shook her head at that, because no one knew. It had been the real draw of the gossip. What could have pushed him to Spring? “Lucien was in love. He loved a…lesser fae…named Jesminda. He wanted to refuse his titles and run away with her, our father be damned. I kept their secret, but they were so reckless. They were never careful with their love. By the time Lucien was ready to tell Beron he was leaving, Beron was steps ahead of him.” Eris could barely get the sentence out, and fresh horror washed over Tilly.
“What did he do?” Tilly could barely stand to whisper it.
“He demanded Tanwen and Gareth hold Lucien down to watch…to watch–” He choked on his words. “While he executed her.” Tilly could never have prepared herself for this, the gasp leaving her chest like a shot. “I refused. I wouldn’t take part in any of it. I managed to get word to Tamlin to get to his borders before Beron locked me in the dungeons for a month.” Tilly held him close to her chest, the sadness spilling off him palpably. “Tanwen and Gareth chased Lucien to the border; Beron wanted them to hunt him for sport. Killian ran to try and stop them, but by the time he caught up, Tamlin and Lucien were already fighting them. It’s how Killian got his scar.” He took a shaky breath.
“But surely Lucien must know that you weren’t involved. You weren’t even there.”
“I don’t think it registered. Unless Tamlin told him, he certainly didn’t know I’m the one who contacted Spring’s High Lord. None of it mattered to me; I only wanted him safe. He can’t even look at me, and when he does, it’s only hate I see in his eyes now. I’m as horrid as Beron in his mind.” Tilly cradled his head closely.
“I wish I could just be the person I pretend to be, that I could let it go and not care, but he’s my baby brother. When he was born, I was nearly fully grown. I helped my mother with all my brothers, but she was so sad after Lucien that I was always there trying to help. Every chance I got, I was in the nursery with him, brushing his hair off his face and telling him wild stories of adventures and dragons and love. I hoped he would have a better life than us, a better chance.”
“Why was your mom sad after his birth?” Eris seemed to realize the slip of his words, his eyes going to hers wildly.
“You must never tell another soul. It would mean my mother’s death.” A chill gripped her then.
“Of course, Eris. I would never endanger Alanna.”
“Lucien is…not a Vanserra. He is Helion’s child. My mother’s mate.”
“The High Lord of Day? Is Lucien’s father?” Suddenly, the features pieced together, and it seemed so obvious she couldn’t believe more people hadn’t put this together. “Does Lucien know? Does Helion?”
“No one knows except you, me, and my mother. And likely Beron. My guess is he has suspected since his birth. The way he treated him…”
“Oh, Eris. This was not a burden you should have had to shoulder.” She pushed a curl behind his ear.
“I loved him so much. I tried to shield him from the worst of it. I tried to spend time with him away from the Forest House. I hoped–I hoped he would have more than us. He deserved more than us.”
“From what I have heard in the years since, especially in tales from under the mountain, you succeeded. He is kind and funny and a wonderful courtier. I have heard he is a good male.”
“I am sure that’s due to the genes of my mother and Helion and not of my assistance. As much as it pains me to see him, knowing he is safe and happily grown and with a life and home of his own is the most I could have hoped for for him. It’s all I ever wanted--a life for him safely away from here.”
“Eris, you are so good. You know that?”
“I worry there is and always will be too much Beron in me.”
“No, love.” She pushed his hair back lovingly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You are not him, and you never will be. The way you love me, love Lucien, love your mother–these are not the ways of someone who is cruel.” He tucked his face into her neck. “You will be a wonderful father, Eris. One day.”
And Tilly couldn’t help the visual that crept into her mind of Eris, knee deep in a steam with a small Lucien, teaching him how to fish.
In a different life, perhaps the child in the stream with him might be their own.
Eris
While Eris would never complain about the absence of Beron, the frequency of his absences was giving Eris pause.
Was it all connected to the faebane? His plans with Aradnus?
Ever since the bond had snapped, Eris felt like he was living on the edge of a knife, precariously toeing the line of paranoia and bliss. And perhaps, at the end of the day, Beron was simply off conducting business. Maybe he was meeting a female, though Eris didn’t think he’d put this much effort into an affair.
At the end of the day, everyone was always much happier when he was gone for these extended trips. There was a palpable difference in the air around the Forest House when he did, and Eris and Tilly especially took advantage of the quiet safety. Tilly was still training regularly with Eris and Cormac and the brothers, gaining muscle and discipline and confidence, as well as learning how to handle a wide variety of weapons she’d never had the pleasure of using before. Callum had thoroughly enjoyed the vigor with which she’d taken to the dual axes, and they’d all very much had fun with the archery tricks she’d taught them in return.
Callum and Cormac were currently sparring in weapons-free combat as Tilly laid on the ground of the ring to catch her breath. Bray, for all his academia, could still wipe the floor with her in hand-to-hand, and she needed a breather every so often. Eris nudged her with his foot lovingly as she grunted noncommittally. He handed her a leather of water that she gratefully took.
“You’re getting very good at this, you know. And I’m personally having a lot of fun watching.” She huffed a laugh at him as she raised her arm to cover her eyes from the sun.
“Is that so, lordling? Perhaps I’ll get Bray to beat your ass next.” His laugh was rich and loud, so rare under the dark cloud of Beron, but he was happy to be able to unleash it freely in this brief reprieve, especially with the way it would light up Tilly’s eyes whenever she heard it. “What? Didn’t expect a female to be able to learn how to fight?” Bray returned from filling his water as she said it.
“We can’t really expect females to learn how to fight when our father spearheads Autumn into holding them down all their lives.” His disgust was apparent in his tone. “Once Eris is High Lord, that will all change, right big brother?” He shot him a devilish grin.
“We might need Til to train our legions of females when the time comes.” Eris said playfully, giving Tilly a kiss on her sweaty forehead as he gestured to Bray, throwing his chin to the ring and removing his shirt. Tilly could watch Eris spar all day, and she wasn’t shy about her gawking–it filled him with unfiltered male pride, so he took advantage of it as often as he could. She sipped from the leather of water as she watched, eyes squinting against the midday sun and lips parted. The grunt of Cormac getting thrown to the ground was the only thing that drew her attention away from him. No one fought like Cormac and Callum. Every single match, while friendly, was full of violence and all out stamina–no punches were pulled between the two of them and they usually ended with one of them bleeding.
Tilly walked to the weapons storage, likely to get some gauze and antiseptic tonic, knowing that, of course, they’d need them. By the time she came back, Eris and Bray were shaking hands. She shot Eris a pout. “Done already?”
“Don’t look so sad, my little flame. We’ve got a date.” He smiled at her charmingly.
“A date? Where are we going?” She set the gauze and tonic down on the benches by the waters for them.
“You’ll see.” He grabbed a basket from the store room, then held out a hand to her, ready to winnow. She smiled and took it without another thought. Eris loved this stream, and he had never taken anyone here outside of his brothers before. Tilly opened her eyes and took in the scenery with awe–the sprawling hills covered in flowers, the warmer air of the southern parts of Autumn coasting over their skin. Eris was already removing a blanket from the basket, shaking it out and laying it down on the ground.
“Did you pack us a picnic?” She asked, walking over to him.
“I did. Can’t a male be romantic sometimes?” He teased. She plopped down on the blanket, peering into the basket.
“Of course, my dear. Now what did you bring? I’m famished.” He chuckled at her excitement and laid out the spread of jams, bread, cheeses, pickled vegetables, and chocolate tarts. “Ooh, delicious.” She plowed into the jarred picklings and said quietly “It’s nice to see your mom so happy.”
And truly, Alanna had been happy with Beron’s frequent absences. They could see her begin to come out of her shell without him hovering around, and it was nice to see a smile on her face at dinner. While none of them dared be entirely themselves for the ears and eyes that remained around the house, it was still refreshing to let a bit more of their true selves shine through.
Eris’ eyes grew distant. “I agree,” he said softly. “I wish I could always give this to her. I hate that this is not her normal.” Tilly put a hand on his. “Soon. She’ll have that peace soon, and so will we.” After a moment of grasping his hand, she released it to plow into the chocolate tarts. “Would you be happy if she went with Helion? After everything is over, that is.”
He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if that’s what she wants anymore. We’ve never spoken in detail about it. But I have mixed feelings about it. Of course, all I want is her happiness. She deserves that and so much more for the hell she’s lived through. But I don’t care for Helion, and I never will.” Tilly sat up.
“What is it you dislike? I’ve only heard stories about him.”
“Truly, I don’t know him well either. He became High Lord under the mountain, once his predecessor had been killed. He’s fairly new to it all. But I will never be able to forgive him for not fighting for her.”
“Do you think perhaps he did it for the greater good? Or even at her own wishes?” Tilly asked.
“It shouldn’t matter. Her safety has been at risk for centuries. Hers and Lucien’s. And he couldn’t be bothered to come fight for her? A part of me will never forgive him for that.”
“Do you think he has any idea Lucien is his? Certainly they must have crossed paths at some point.”
“I don’t honestly know. But why should that matter? I would raze continents if it meant keeping you safe–baby or no.” Tilly was quiet for a moment, licking the chocolate off her fingers while laying back on the blanket to watch the clouds lazily cross the sky.
“Do you think they’re mates?”
“I don’t know. I know he loved her. But it wasn’t enough, in the end.” His words were quiet, and Tilly put her hand over his again. “Come on, we’re going swimming.” Eris shot up in a flash, tugging his shirt over his head and unlacing his pants while Tilly stared on in shock.
“Are you crazy? What if someone sees us?” She laughed.
“There’s no one for miles, and this portion of the stream is warded. This is where I taught Lucien to fish.” She gasped as that vision flitted through her mind again, and then she was tugging her shirt off, too, unwinding the band around her chest while Eris smiled widely at her. He pulled his pants down, then his undershorts, and walked to the stream, wading in up to his knees. The water was rushing and warm for Autumn, so he waded in past his waist, letting it roll around him as he took a breath.
He felt Tilly’s hands on him, rolling over his many scars, then her bare breasts against his back, and her lips on his shoulder.
“How did you stand it?” He tried not to think about each and every encounter that had left those marks so permanently on his body. His skin was a book with a detailed log of the atrocities he’d suffered at his father’s hand, but all the pain and suffering had brought him here.
“In the beginning, I didn’t. As a child, I had no concept of why it was happening–it wrecked me. As I got older, I did my best to block it out. I found a place so deep inside me that nothing he did would ever reach it. I held that tiny little bit of myself close, and I told myself that enduring it would all be worth it someday, somehow.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, and he lifted his hands up to grab hers and wrap her arms around him. “I thought, if I could just get through one more day, I would be closer to something better. Something worth it.” He lifted each of her hands and kissed them each in turn. He could smell the salt of her tears behind him.
He turned, running his hands up and down her sides, then taking her into his arms. “You were worth it, Til. If it means I’d find you in the end, I would do it all again.”
Taglist (lomls): @cauldronblssd@queercontrarian@byyalady@thelovelymadone@clockwork-ashes@lovingkelj @lilah-asteria
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mikeysbride · 11 days
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Welcome Back to Trench
When our kids introduced us to the world of the twenty one pilots fandom a couple of years ago, we were initially full of corny parent jokes:
Why are they called twenty one pilots when there are only two of them?
That's way too many pilots.
They're gonna need a bigger cockpit.
Why, for the love of God, don't they capitalize their name!?
That's not to say we don't still say those things sometimes (thank goodness our teens generally find us amusing), but it's also wild to see how big a part of our family dynamic this duo has become over these couple of years...so much so that I've even suggested that when we finally get a dog, he should be named Clancy. [T.O.P. fans will understand.] They are in regular rotation in our home and in our cars. Last year, they were one of my top 5 most listened to artists on Spotify! And last night, at last, we all went to see them perform live on the aptly-named Clancy Tour. It was the first time seeing them for all 5 of us - our family of 4, along with my 16yo's...um, favorite boy, we'll call him. I don't think she's been quite this happy since maybe when we first surprised her with AJR tickets. But as much as she loves AJR (we all do now!), twenty one pilots is HER band as Living Colour is mine, and Genesis is her dad's. Now we are all along for the ride.
And last night, much of Orlando was also along for that ride, having sold out the Kia Center pretty much immediately when the tickets went on sale months ago. I had a feeling their show would be high energy and that the crowd would be super hyped, and I was not wrong about that. But after being as impressed as I was by AJR (twice!) this year, I wasn't 100% sure what to expect. Tyler and Josh did not disappoint, though, and I have to say I am also quite impressed with THEM...not that I didn't think I would be. We've watched enough of their music videos and live performance clips (full concerts, even) on YouTube for me to know this, too, wasn't going to be just an ordinary concert.
To the point, Tyler and Josh have a way of immersing themselves into the crowd (literally) that makes them feel like they are right there with you - because they are - spending quite a bit of time out amongst their fans instead of on the stage. They are seemingly everywhere at once, making it feel like an intimate performance even with thousands of people in the audience. And the fire. There was a lot of fire, which I rather appreciated because, being prone to being cold, I was chilly in the arena, and it was nice to sometimes be able to feel a bit of warmth from the flames, all the way up our cushy club level seats!
We heard so many favorite songs of theirs last night, including my newest favorite from them, the super catchy "Lavish," but I have not stopped playfully pouting yet that they didn't do my O.G. favorite of theirs - the one that really stuck out to me when I first heard them, and that is "Lane Boy." I love that one so much that I have a bit of a reputation for it at this point. With a catalog as extensive as theirs is, they can't be expected to play everything, but man, hearing that one live would've made the night absolutely, undeniably perfect for me. Here's hoping they'll add it back in on a future tour.
Also on the subject of their music, I couldn't help but giggle thinking that Tyler doesn't really even need to know his own lyrics because that arena full of fans was more than happy to sing every line for him. From the first notes of every song, they were READY. If anyone knows the assignment, it's T.O.P. fans. Apparently, my kids aren't the only ones who can recite their songs like the Pledge of Allegiance. This is a thing I know now.
And finally, a huge thank you to Tyler for actually telling those of us in reserved seats to sit and rest for a few songs. Not to be the old lady in the room, but I'm long past the age of wanting to stand for an entire show, in most cases preferring to sit and truly hear the music and watch what is happening on the stage - or in this case (also) in the middle of the crowd somewhere. It was a bit of a reprieve when he said that.
Eh, so maybe I'll let that "Lane Boy" thing slide after all.
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helltownohiohq · 4 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 — 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦
𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚑𝚚𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝
you've sat with this text, this private invitation, for the last . . . however many days its been. time seems to pass by differently in 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐎𝐡𝐢𝐨. days feel like weeks, but weeks feel like seconds; as per usual, nothing makes sense. something always feels off. even the wind, as it floats down the dirt-ridden streets filled with cracks in the asphalt, seems to hum with something sinister. you could be standing outside in the blooming summer heat and the breeze alone would send chills down your spine like you were being bitten by jack frost himself.
do you go ?? you've heard whispers, talked to your peers. . . for a private invitation, it sure sounds like everyone was invited. minus a select few but, you know more people with invitations than people you don't.
so, JUNE 20th arrives . . . and per the texts instructions, you find your way down the winding path in the woods. maybe there are others amongst you, walking ahead or behind, and the leaves seem to be whispering above you all as the sun bleeds through outstretched branches. . . the summer solstice appears to be in full effect as you move down the path.
you see the bonfire in the distance, roaring with life, and you hear . . .laughter. it isn't a sinister kind of laughter though, it sounds joyful. given the circumstances, maybe the joyful laughter is more horrifying than the alternative but, you see residents scattered around an open area in the wood and think hey . . . maybe this isn't so bad. maybe this is just a bonfire to kick off the summer and nothing more than that.
there's a make shift bar to the right of the fire, a fold up table littered with liquor bottles and a keg perched on a stump beside it. the woman running it is wearing a mask, one that seems to resemble a deer with two faces. you look around and notice that . . . everyone working the festival is wearing similar masks. some even have necklaces that look like they were made of animal bones.
those were animal bones, right ??
there's a huge buffet, filled with homemade goodies, fresh fruit ( this is some rundown rural town in ohio, where did they get fresh fruit from ?? ), turkey legs, and other enticing looking treats. no brand names to be seen so, all of it must have been made from scratch.
music fills the woods, played from a trio of musicians stationed just behind the fire, and its music unlike any you've ever heard before. the roaring bonfire sits in the middle of it all, stretching so tall it has to be the tallest attendee here. its flames swirl and flicker, but it shows no sign of dying as more masked festival-runners keep it well fed with oak and kindling. there's axe throwing, flower crown making stations, dancing, and the sound of nature stirring surrounding it all. every time you pass one of the festival goers they nod to you; " happy solstice " they say, " may they bless your summer and all of your days."
it almost feels like you've been transported back in time. back to when things where simpler, where merriment came from the little things, and for a moment. . . maybe. . . you feel peace. or maybe all of this fills you with an overwhelming sense of dread.
all you know for sure is that you're here, and you might as well make the most of it, right ??
how bad could it truly be ??
𝐨𝐨𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
this is PART ONE of a two part event !!
whilst the event is in two parts starting on june 1st, both parts of the event are taking place on ONE in-character date; june 20th. the events of part one are going to take place from 4:50pm when the festival starts until 8:16pm. all times are in EST.
the vibe ?? think farmers market meets modern renaissance-ish. also, please make sure you ask box is open :)
part one will go from june 1st-june 20th !! please reach out to the main if you have any questions. we are posting this a day early so you can get your thinking juices flowin and start plottin should you wish to.
please tag all event threads #helltownsolstice1 so we can read!!!
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pr1ncesspopstar · 19 days
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Not Interested - FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 4: Reticent
Ao3
-
There probably wasn’t a single bar across the continent of Eorzea that Warrior of Light had not visited at least once. Whatever had started her on such a strange, pointless quest, she couldn’t remember. No doubt in part because of the plenty of drinks she consumed at such places. All that really mattered, is she unearthed hidden gems in the various hole-in-the-wall, underground businesses dotted throughout the city-states. If asked, she doubted she could ever choose a favorite.
There was an old mill just outside Gridanian, a party house that blared live music and served dubious, magic infused drinks in utter contrast to the city’s typical calming, quiet venues. There were more bars on the sea than land in Limsa, crashing through the waves until the alcohol ran dry, promising a bender to test the mettle of even the most daring. Ul’dah had the move variety. Any kind of experience one wanted found somewhere amongst the varied streets of the desert oasis, whether or not the law allowed it. How many unlucky bars had she shut down because they unknowingly offered their most debauched services to her, a captain of the Immortal Flames?
That was to say, Halditar was a regular of several sanctuaries where alcohol flowed and the atmosphere was good.
This wasn’t one of them.
It was an ungodly late, humid Lominsan summer night. The only ones prowling the alleys and streets were ghosts, the sailors, merchants, and crafters, only just prying themselves from work before they collapsed where they stood. She was amongst the latter, having ripped herself from the blacksmith’s forge before she keeled over from hunger. How desperate she was for a decent meal and ice cold drink. With news of some freshly opened places in her mind, she walked until one came into view. Halditar thought the sanctuary was around the corner.
Now she was genuinely considering she might have been better off starving, and collapsed in the streets.
She sighed, swirling around the tepid contents of her mug. Watery, brown swill that tasted more like a glass of hay than beer. The ales and wines weren’t much better, mixed with little care for taste, to prolong the quantity of their alcohol over the quality. The young barkeep, bless his soul, was trying. But whoever taught clearly thought bartending was simply ‘pour drinks and serve.’ With dingy, boring furniture and a few wharf rats seen in the corners, she could name a hundred better, cheap places than this.
And somehow, the food was worse.
Her culinarian’s soul rolled over dead when she recieved a fish filet still dotted with scales and drowned in entirely too much, practically burned brown butter sauce. Served only barely warmer than her drinks, she made no fuss when a seagull swept by and stretched it off her plate. Better than it stinking up her table with the odor of char and undercooked seafood. If not for the sheer exhaustion in her legs and the far-too-nice view, she’d have left far earlier.
The silken fabric of her happi jacket was sticking to her back from all the sweat. Her skirt hitched as high as she could get it, long pale legs exposed, hoping to catch some kind of cool breeze as she rocked on the patio chair, looking out to the sea. Small black waves reflected the stars and moon far above, and beyond the scent of brine and salt, the barest hint of ozone could be caught on the wind. A storm wasn’t far off, and with the ungodly weight of the air these past few days, it couldn’t come fast enough. Her only solace was this miserable night.
“Well, aren’t I a lucky sort? Finding the prettiest treasure I ever saw,” a voice ruined the quiet, and Halditar lolled her head to the other side of her table. Some hyur, a brunette as boring as they came, sat across from her. Reeking of cheap drinks and cologne. “All alone, darling?”
“And enjoying it too.” she punctuated herself with a long, hearty drink from her mug. To her annoyance, he just laughed.
“Then let’s be alone together, why don’t we? I can’t imagine anything better than getting to know a stranger over a few drinks. My treat, of course.” “I can think of plenty better. I’ve no interest in the likes of you. Scram.” Halditar would not play this game. Normally she’d play around a bit, but hot, tired, and pissed off she just didn’t give a rat’s ass. She wanted to choke down the alcohol she paid for in peace and scram to the Missing Member for some real grub. Gods, something like a fondue sounded grand right now. Just cheese and bread and little, salty meats. If she was lucky, Rhoswen would be there and they could split a bottle of wine…
“Oh come now, beautiful! If you only got to know me, I’m sure you’d change your tune real quick. Why not make a game of it? Why don’t we? Back and forth, we’ll ask questions about each other. I’ll even give you a little something for free to start. I’m quite an up-and-coming musician in these parts,” Halditar snorted. That just meant he was a nobody with barely a gig under his belt. Before she could say as much, he rambled on. “Now, let’s start with your name. Why don’t we?”
“None of your business.”
“Temper, temper, darling! Maybe you’d like to ask the first question instead, then?” “Okay. Fuck off, will ya?”
Getting her gils worth wasn’t even a question anymore. She just wanted away from this cursed place. She flung the contents of her mug over the railing and stood, stomping back toward the bar as she dug in her pocket for whatever spare gil she had in there. Handing it to the barkeep with a look that had to have been something nasty, the way he flinched away at her approach.
“Not the best of places, was it? So where to next?” she stumbled as she walked out. That damned hyur followed her. And she was fresh out of patience.
“The bottom of the sea.”
As the ‘what’ slipped from his lips, she had both hands on him and his feet on the ground. As he kicked and shouted to little effect, she walked over to the nearest ledge and looked down. Yup, he wouldn’t die from this, but it would sure as hells hurt. She didn’t even offer him fanfare or parting words, she didn’t want to waste a single breath more on this pest. So, as she would with any vermin, she simply let him go. Leaning over the edge as she watches him sail through the air, before landing in the brine. Seeing him resurface and start swimming to the nearest dock, all while cursing up a storm. A wide, shit-eating grin smeared her features as she resisted adding further insult by spitting at him.
“Learn to take a hint! Otherwise, chances are next time you won’t be alive by the time someone tosses you into the sea!” She warned, the least she could do after running his night and knowing how many women in the city of pirates carried around daggers they would use for less. Her mood dramatically improved. She walked off into the night intending to make it even better with good food and drinks.
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dramioneasks · 1 year
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would you happen to have any fic recommendations where they're just sooooo happy and in disgustingly in love? i need a break from all the darker themes x thanks so much!
Title: The Awakening Author: CherryWolf-chan Rating: M Genre(s): Romance, Humor Chapters: 1 Word Count: 8,775 Summary: Mini-Weasley, I do hope you have a bloody good reason as to why you just barged into The Manor at four in the flaming morning and started screeching for my daughter-in-law!
An Afternoon at the Races - cleotheo, T, one-shot - Draco and Hermione, along with several of their friends have recently been involved in a bit of a baby boom, so while the mothers decide to have an afternoon pampering session at a spa, they leave the fathers holding the babies. What sort of trouble can possibly occur when you have six fathers, seven babies and Lucius Malfoy on hand to offer his wisdom? Fun, fluffy one-shot.
Whose Side Are You On, Anyway? By: SevenGee - T, one-shot - When infamous couple of the moment Draco and Hermione suddenly break things off, the students of Hogwarts are in an uproar, unabashedly taking sides left, right and centre. Whose side are you on, anyway? DMxHG. Oneshot.
Three Words, Eight Letters by abrilas, niffizzle - M, one-shot - Five times Draco Malfoy tries to say “I love you” and one time he finally does.
A Million Apples - Aneiria - G, one-shot - Draco and Hermione have always shown their love for each other in one particular way - and after a hard day looking after their children, Draco doesn’t need any excuse to prove his love to her again.
In Between The Stacks - rattlebag - G, one-shot - “Draco followed her into the rolling stacks, the darkness around them almost a living being. He looked around, marvelling at the height of some of the shelves, getting a feeling of being back in Hogwarts. Hermione looked at home amongst the ageing volumes, and he really could see how she’d ended up working here. She was running one finger absentmindedly over the shelves, and he could hear her muttering under her breath as she did so, the words tumbling out in a kind of soft lullaby. Her voice rising and falling in time to silent music.” What are the odds that a Golden Girl and an Ex-Death Eater both end up in the same bookstore in New York? But could it be a chance to make amends for his past? If only he could work out what the funny feeling is in his chest-and why he’s spent the last few minutes blushing… Sometimes you have to go thousands of miles away to find what you’re looking for. Even if you don’t know what it is.
One Sugar - In_Dreams - M, one-shot - It takes common ground―in the form of hot beverages―for Hermione to connect with her co-worker Draco Malfoy.
A Common Cause - JaycieVictory - T, one-shot - Draco was determined to win Hermione for himself. Hermione’s cat had other ideas.
-Lisa
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tired-truffle · 1 month
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Yet Broken Still You Breathe
Chapter Word Count: 6.2k
Part 32/54
"I fear that I may love you more than I will ever be allowed to." - Unknown
Warning: Smut in this chapter! If you would like to skip it but still want to read the rest, it starts at: "As her heart thundered beneath her skin, Alistair's silent nod was all the confirmation Gwen needed." And ends at: "They stood there for a few moments, holding each other tightly as they caught their breath."
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Leliana's music drifted through the crisp night air, each note carrying on the gentle breeze and lifting to the twinkling stars above. The roaring fire at the center of camp added a warm glow to the surroundings, casting dancing shadows on the trees and tents. Although they had limited alcohol, there was still plenty of laughter and merriment shared amongst the companions.
Gwen paused at the edge of the camp, taking in the scene before her. Leliana sat near the fire, her nimble fingers coaxing enchanting music from the strings of her lute, accompanied by the rich timbre of her voice as she sang a lively folk tune. Across from her, Zevran clapped along, a wide grin on his tattooed face, Darcy hanging off his arm with a blissful smile on his face. The elvhen rogue met Gwen's eye and winked conspiratorially.
Wynne was cozily nestled against a large log, entranced by the flickering flames that danced and crackled in front of her. A small smile of contentment played on her lips as she hummed along to the music. Morrigan, with her dark cloak pulled tight around her, lurked in the shadows just beyond the reach of light. She pretended to be disinterested, but her subtle nods in time with the music betrayed her true feelings. Sten, ever vigilant, stood at the perimeter of the campfire, his sharp gaze constantly scanning their surroundings. Despite his stoic demeanour, even he couldn't help but be affected by the joyous atmosphere of the celebration.
Alistair stepped up beside Gwen, "Well, looks like the party started without us," he chuckled. His eyes crinkled with laughter as he watched their friends.
Gwen's heart swelled, a bubble of happiness and belonging rising up within her. When she’d first met them all those months ago in Redcliffe, she had expected to feel like an outsider, a monster hiding amongst them. But the easy joy in Alistair's expression, the playful wink from Zevran, the inclusive nature of Leliana's song...for the first time in a long while, Gwen felt the stirrings of a sense of belonging so profound it almost frightened her.
“Gwennie!” Darcy exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise and delight as he released his adoring hold on his lover. In a moment of pure joy, he jumped up and dashed over to her, his steps light and bouncy. Capturing her hands in his own, he squeezed them gently. “I was beginning to worry you’d fallen in the river, but I should have known you were busy celebrating in other ways when I noticed Alistair was missing too.”
Darcy's grin, filled with equal parts mischief and charm, did nothing to ease the sudden heat rising in both of their faces. Gwen quickly snatched her hands back as she tried to regain her composure. Although his words could have been perceived as something chaste, like sharing a private kiss, this was Darcy and he was anything but innocent.
They hadn’t talked about intimacy since their conversation a few days ago. Gwen had left it in Alistair’s hands to tell her when he was ready. She hadn’t felt like it made anything awkward between them, but now that it had been brought up - especially in the company of others - she was no longer so sure.
“More like I was convincing Gwen that my poor dance moves wouldn’t ruin the evening, I’m afraid I’m made of left feet.” Alistair recovered quickly, pointing down at his boots and demonstrating an awkward shuffle.
Darcy scoffed, pushing himself between Gwen and Alistair and linking his arms in both of theirs. “Nonsense,” he said, “A strapping young lad like you has nothing to be worried about. You’ll make up for it with enthusiasm and eagerness to learn.” Darcy turned to Gwen and winked. “Won’t he?”
Gwen wasn’t sure she was going to survive the night without bursting into flames at this rate.
Like an angelic saviour, Zevran appeared, sweeping Darcy away with a dramatic flourish that had Gwen releasing a relieved exhale. "Come, mi amor, we shall give them a demonstration!" he proclaimed.
Without giving Darcy a chance to protest, Zevran had swooped in and whisked him away to the center of the room. Leliana's fingers moved gracefully over the strings of her lute, creating a sultry melody. As the music swirled around them, the two elves began an elaborate dance, their lithe bodies moving together in a sensual rhythm. Gwen couldn't help but feel a bit flustered by the intimate display, but if it meant distracting Darcy from making comments about her sex life, she was all for it.
Gwen watched with fascination as Zevran and Darcy twirled and gyrated, their bodies moving as one in perfect sync. Darcy's slender form bent and arched with feline grace while Zevran's movements were sharp and precise like a striking serpent. The dance started slowly, building in tempo as Leliana's melody quickened. Soon the two elves were a blur of swirling cloaks, stomping boots, and flailing limbs.
The dancers seemed to be completely lost in each other, their bodies twining and intertwining with effortless grace. Darcy's slender frame bent and arched like a cat while Zevran's movements were sharp and calculated, reminiscent of a striking snake. They moved as one, their steps perfectly synchronized to the quickening beat of Leliana's lute.
The dance had started off slow and seductive, but as the music picked up pace, so did the dancers. Soon they were a blur of swirling cloaks, stomping boots, and flailing limbs, their bodies almost becoming one fluid entity. It was a mesmerizing sight to behold, and Gwen found herself unable to tear her gaze away from the hypnotic scene before her.
She felt Alistair's hand tentatively take hers, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Sorry about that," he murmured. "You know how he can be. He must have broken into the wine already." She nodded, leaning into him ever so slightly, taking comfort in his solid presence. For now, the awkwardness had passed, thanks to Zevran's impeccable - if unconventional - timing. She made a mental note to thank him later for the diversion.
Just when it seemed the dance would spiral out of control, the music stopped abruptly. Zevran dipped Darcy low with a dramatic flourish as Leliana plucked a final high note. Their companions gave scattered applause and Alistair let out a loud wolf whistle, grinning cheekily.
Cheeks flushed and chests heaving from exertion, Darcy and Zevran stepped apart. With a dramatic bow, Darcy jumped onto one of the logs circling the blazing fire.
"Come now, don't think you're getting out of this!" he cried. "Everyone join in for the next dance!"
Before Gwen could react, Darcy had run over to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward. Alistair followed as well, chuckling as Darcy tried to push him towards the center of the camp.
"I don't really dance," Gwen protested weakly, but Darcy would have none of it.
"Don’t worry, it's easy! Just follow my lead."
Leliana began a cheerful melody on her lute and Darcy pulled Gwen close to his side, angling their bodies so they both faced the flames. Darcy took a step forward and another one backwards, giving her time to copy his movements. Once she was able to get those, he began guiding her through the rest of the slightly more complicated steps. She stumbled at first, unfamiliar with the movements, but as he led her around, she started to get the hang of it.
Darcy stepped back and she paused, confused and unsure what to do next but Alistair appeared at her other side, his large hand gently grasping hers.
"May I?" He asked softly.
With a shy smile, she nodded. Together they spun slowly, Alistair keeping her steady when she faltered. As the dance continued, Gwen could feel the music pulsing through her body, swaying and twirling in perfect harmony. Her muscles loosened and her mind drifted away as she surrendered to the melody. Alistair's strong arms lifted her effortlessly off the ground, his laughter joining hers as he spun her around in circles. The world around them blurred into a joyful blur of colour and movement.
“Look at you go, Gwennie! You’ll be a professional dancer in no time!” Darcy exclaimed as he and Zevran whirled around them, their dance much more complicated, but less intense than the first.
Darcy’s enthusiasm was infectious, and soon the others began to join in, tentatively at first. Wynne watched from her spot by the fire, a gentle smile on her lips. Though she had no intention of participating herself, it warmed her heart to see the others coming together, tensions momentarily forgotten after their hard-won battle. She even tolerated Zevran’s flirtatious attempts to get her to join him, Darcy having released the rogue to seek out his target
Morrigan, who had been skulking in the shadows, was reluctantly drawn forward by Darcy’s outstretched hand. “This is foolishness,” she protested, even as Darcy spun her around. But despite herself, Gwen thought she saw a flicker of amusement in the witch’s eyes.
Sten remained impassive, staunchly observing rather than participating. His stony expression was difficult to read. Did he disapprove of such frivolity when their task was so dire? Or was that merely his way, no indication of his true thoughts? Gwen hoped he might soften with time. For now, she was simply grateful he did not stomp off into the night or interrogate her about her scars again.
Even Barkspawn joined in, swaying to the music from his place beside Leliana, his mouth open, tongue hanging out in a facsimile of a smile.
The dance built to a joyous crescendo, feet stomping and voices whooping. Gwen surrendered to the energy of the moment, forgetting her earlier discomfort. Darcy’s grin was radiant as he clasped hands with each of them, uniting the dancers in a circle.
Gwen found herself linked between Alistair and Zevran, their hands warm and reassuring around hers. She glanced over at Alistair, noting the flush in his cheeks and the sparkle in his eyes as he moved awkwardly yet determinedly to the music. His enthusiasm was endearing, if not exactly graceful. On her other side, Zevran moved with innate rhythm, lithe and catlike even in this simple dance.
“You see, my dear, dancing is not so frightening after all,” Zevran teased, giving her hand a playful squeeze. She managed a small smile in return, she was having fun, but she doubted her dancing ability was anything to write home about.
As the dance wound down, their circle spun faster, feet tangling and laughter ringing out. Gwen felt lighter than she had in ages. For a few moments, the Blight, the struggle ahead, her own demons - it all faded away. She was just another soul, connected in joy.
When at last the music faded, they were breathless, faces aglow. Gwen met Alistair’s eyes and they shared a smile.
“Well now, that wasn’t so bad!” Darcy declared brightly. “We shall have to do this again sometime soon!”
Even Morrigan did not argue as they drifted to join Wynne at the edge of the fire. A new feeling of closeness tied them all together, fragile as a spider’s web, but there nonetheless.
As they settled into their seats, the mood was light and cheerful, a welcome reprieve from the dark events of the day. Flemeth was dead, slain by their own hands, ending her reign of evil. Morrigan was silent, still reeling from the revelation that her mother was not who she had thought. Gwen's heart ached for her, knowing the pain of a shattered illusion all too well.
Leliana drifted over, her lute discarded, and sat beside Gwen, their knees almost touching. "It's good to see you so happy," she said softly. "I know today was difficult."
Gwen nodded, staring into the flickering flames. "I never imagined I'd be slaying ancient abominations when I joined Darcy. And yet here we are." She gave a rueful half-smile.
"The Maker works in mysterious ways." Leliana nudged her playfully. "But He puts us on the paths we need. You were meant to be here, Gwen.”
Something in Leliana's quiet faith made the knots inside begin to loosen. Gwen’s relationship with the Maker was complicated, to say the least, but she trusted her friend’s judgement. Perhaps she deserved more than a life of fear and isolation - one could only wish.
"How are you holding up?" Gwen asked. "It couldn't have been easy, facing Marjolaine again after all these years."
Gwen had been itching to check in with her friend ever since they had left Denerim. Leliana, however, had seemed to be lost in her own thoughts for most of the journey, and Gwen had given her the space she needed. But now, as the two finally found a moment alone together, Gwen hoped it was the right time to approach this topic.
Leliana gazed into the flames, a small smile playing on her lips. "I won't deny it was difficult," she said. "Marjolaine was my mentor once. I loved her, as foolish as that may seem now." She shook her head. "But after what she did, I knew I could never trust her again. All I feel now is relief that she can no longer manipulate me or hurt anyone else."
Gwen nodded slowly. "I'm proud of you for facing her. Not many could have done so with such grace."
"It wasn't easy." Leliana's voice grew distant. "There was so much I wanted to say to her. So many questions unanswered. But what's done is done now." She turned to Gwen, her eyes glistening. "For the first time in years, I feel free."
Reaching out, Gwen squeezed her arm delicately. "Then let's celebrate that freedom," she said, smiling. "We've earned a night of peace."
Leliana returned the smile, wiping away a stray tear. Linking her arm through Gwen's, she rested her head on her friend's slender shoulder. The two women sat in companionable silence as the fire blazed on, washing them in comforting warmth. For now, all was still.
Gwen's gaze swept across the bright, crackling fire and met Alistair's. His eyes sparkled with warmth and a hint of mischief before he turned back to his animated conversation with Darcy. Gwen's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his shy smile, her breath catching in her throat and she tore her gaze away.
Gwen met Leliana’s eyes as her friend peered up at her, a knowing look on her face. "Have I ever told you how glad I am you're here?" Gwen asked, desperate to avoid whatever it was Leliana was about to say, though the statement was genuine.
Leliana smiled, wide and bright, looking younger than she had in days. "You don't have to say it," she replied. "I know."
Leliana's gaze shifted to Alistair, a playful gleam in her eyes. "Speaking of people we are glad to have with us, you and our handsome ex-Templar seem to be getting rather close, no?"
Gwen felt her cheeks grow warm. She looked down, suddenly fascinated by a loose thread on her tunic.
"Oh, don't be shy!" Leliana laughed. "I think it's wonderful. We could all use a little joy amid such darkness."
Gwen hesitated. She wasn't used to opening up about personal matters. But Leliana had a way of putting her at ease.
"It's...new," Gwen said finally. "Unexpected. I care for him deeply, but..." She trailed off, unsure how to voice her doubts.
Leliana nodded sympathetically. "You are wary. You both bear heavy burdens. The path ahead is uncertain."
Gwen met her friend's gaze. "Yes. And yet, when we're together, just for a moment, the world feels a little lighter."
"Hold onto that feeling," Leliana said sagely. "Dark times often reveal unexpected strengths within us. Yours and Alistair's feelings can be a source of hope, if you let them. I've seen the way you two gaze at each other when you think no one is looking." Her expression grew tender. "He is quite taken with you. And you with him, yes?"
Gwen’s blush deepened, but she nodded, her hands clasped together between her thighs.
“I am happy for you, you both deserve the kind of love that few people truly find in their lifetimes.”
Gwen mulled over her words. Perhaps Leliana was right. She glanced over at Alistair again who was now laughing at something Darcy had said.
“Thank you, Leliana.” Gwen smiled at her friend. “I just hope I don’t fuck it up.”
Leliana let out a light, musical laugh. "My dear, you worry too much. Love is not easily broken, not when it is true." She leaned in, eyes glinting mischievously before Gwen could insist that it wasn’t love, at least not on Alistair’s part. How could it be? "Now, speaking of fucking, you simply must tell me all the juicy details about your salacious relations with our handsome Grey Warden."
Gwen's eyes widened and she let out a strangled cough, nearly choking on her own spit. Her face burned crimson as she stammered, "I, uh, we haven't...I mean, not yet..."
Leliana's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Truly? I assumed from the way you two carry on that you had already..." She trailed off, noticing how flustered Gwen looked.
Leliana smiled kindly, placing a hand on Gwen's shoulder. "There is no need to feel embarrassed, my friend. These things happen in their own time." She gave Gwen's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "When the moment is right, you will know."
Gwen nodded, still unable to meet Leliana's gaze. As if appeared out of thin air, Alistair approached, concern furrowing his brow. "Everything alright over here?" He asked lightly, though his eyes held a serious glint as he looked between the two women.
Leliana waved her hand dismissively. "Of course! Gwen and I were just having a simple chat between friends." She winked at Gwen, who flushed and looked away.
Alistair studied Gwen for a moment before turning to Leliana. "Would you mind if I borrowed Gwen for a bit? There's something I'd like to discuss with her."
"But of course!" Leliana exclaimed, giving Gwen one last smile before sauntering off to join the others.
Alistair watched her go before turning back to Gwen, his face softening. "Walk with me?" He asked almost timidly, holding out his hand.
Gwen glanced at Alistair's outstretched hand, feeling suddenly shy herself. She placed her palm in his, allowing him to help her to her feet. His hand was warm and calloused and sent a pleasant tingle up her arm.
As they stepped away from the comforting glow of the fire, a hush fell over the woods. The quiet darkness enveloped them, save for the slivers of moonlight that filtered through the thick canopy. Gwen couldn't help but sneak glances at Alistair's profile, his handsome features illuminated by the beams of light. She could see the hint of a blush on his cheeks, now more noticeable in the absence of the campfire's shadows. She wondered what he wanted to discuss that required such privacy, and what exactly had been said to him - or that he’d overheard - that would have his cheeks turning such a bright shade of pink.
They stopped at a clearing, far away from camp. The space was bathed in hazy moonlight, giving everything a dreamlike quality. The trees surrounding them stood tall and proud, their branches stretching out towards the sky, their leaves rustling in the breeze. A few fireflies flitted about, adding to the enchanting atmosphere. Alistair tugged Gwen to stand with him, his hand still clasping hers.
"Gwen, I...there's something I want to give you," Alistair's hands trembled as he fumbled for the pouch at his belt. He pulled out a leather necklace, adorned with a sharp tooth that shone in the moonlight. Despite his nerves, he held it up proudly.
"Back in the Brecilian Forest, after those wolves attacked us, I took one of its teeth and turned it into a necklace. I know it's not the most romantic gift, but...I wanted you to have something to remember our adventures. And something that represents how I see you - fierce, strong, beautiful. Though at the time I didn’t realize your teeth were quite so similar."
He smiled crookedly. "I'll admit, I'm not the best at gifts - wasn't sure if you'd prefer flowers or jewelry. But this...this is uniquely you. However, I should warn you that my craftsmanship is subpar at best. It’s why it took me so long to give it to you, you should have seen how awful the others looked. I eventually had to give in and ask Wynne for her help.”
Alistair gently placed the necklace in Gwen's hand, his fingers brushing against hers and leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. He watched her closely, his eyes full of tenderness and a touch of nervousness, as he awaited her reaction.
Gwen's heart swelled with a rush of affection as she delicately held the necklace in her hand. It may not have been the most flashy or expensive gift, but it held so much meaning. She could feel Alistair's love and care woven into every detail.
"It's beautiful," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you, Alistair."
He let out a shaky breath and gave her a lopsided grin. "I'm glad you like it."
She touched the tooth pendant, feeling its smoothness against her fingertips. "I'll treasure it always."
Gwen turned it over in her hands. The tooth, once sharp and jagged, had been expertly polished to a smooth, pearly sheen that caught the light with every movement. Though simple in design, she could see the care Alistair had taken - the braided leather cord, the precisely carved holes where the tooth was strung.
"Here, let me," Alistair said, coming closer. Gwen gathered her long hair and swept it over one shoulder, turning her back to him. She bowed her head as Alistair took the ends of the necklace and reached around her neck. As he brushed against her skin, a shiver ran through Gwen's body, heightened by the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck. His focus was solely on tying the strands, but she could feel his gaze lingering on the scar that circled her throat like a cruel reminder of her past. Despite this, Alistair made no mention of it, and Gwen thought that even if he had, she may have been willing to talk about it. Maybe.
After a moment, the necklace was secured, and the tooth pendant came to rest just above her breasts. Gwen lifted her head, turning to face him, her hand coming up to clutch the pendant.
"It's perfect," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heartbeat. Alistair's heart swelled with happiness at Gwen's reaction. He couldn't keep the goofy grin off his face as she admired the necklace.
With a trembling hand, she released the delicate necklace from her grasp and closed the distance between them in a single step. The air was charged with anticipation as she raised her fingers to trace the angles and contours of Alistair's face, committing every detail to memory. A surge of an unnamable emotion overtook her as she pulled him into a fierce kiss. At first, he stiffened in surprise before melting into her touch, his hand reaching up to tangle in her hair while the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. Their bodies radiated heat as they lost themselves in each other, the rest of the world fading away until all that existed was them, alone in the woods, together.
When they finally broke apart, both were flushed and breathless, unwilling to part any further than was necessary to breathe. Gwen's cheeks glowed with a rosy hue, her lips slightly parted as she gazed up at Alistair with love and longing in her eyes. His arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her close as if he never wanted to let go. The necklace he had given her lay nestled against her heart, its pendant gleaming in the light of the moon.
For Gwen, this was love, but for Alistair, well, he had yet to say so to her. It was all still new, and while a part of her worried that he’d never feel that way for her, it was frequently drowned out by the adoration she saw reflected in his warm, brown eyes.
Alistair cleared his throat, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as he held Gwen close. Her kiss had left his mind spinning, struggling to form coherent thoughts beyond how right it felt to have her in his arms.
"So..." he began, trailing off as he realized he had no idea what to say next. Gwen gazed at him expectantly, one eyebrow quirked in amusement at his flustered state.
"You, um, mentioned before that there were...other things we could do. Before, you know..." Alistair felt his face grow hot. Why was it so hard to just say the word 'sex'?
Gwen's lips curved into a coy smile. "Did I? I suppose I did say something along those lines. Though I didn’t take you as the kind of man to give a woman a gift as a way to butter her up.”
Alistair's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his face flushing a deeper shade of pink. "I-I didn't mean- I was just... That wasn’t my intention," he stammered.
Gwen's laughter rang out, cutting through the tension. "Relax, Alistair," she said with a wink. "I'm only teasing you."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Alistair's mouth as he shook his head in mock exasperation. “If by ‘other things’ you meant giving me a heart attack, I’m not sure I’m interested. I do need a heart to fight the Archdemon, you know.”
Gwen chuckled and pulled Alistair with her until she leaned back against a nearby tree. She ran her hands through his hair and down his neck, tilting her head to look up at him with a playful glint in her eye.
"Are you saying you don't trust me?" she asked with a pout, enjoying this act.
Alistair pretended to ponder this for a moment before shaking his head with a grin. "I suppose I'll have to take my chances."
She watched him for a brief moment, her heart quickening its pace. Was she truly about to explain this to him? The thought alone made her cheeks flush with embarrassment. But in the grand scheme of things, it was just bodies coming together, wasn't it? Gwen let out a small huff of self-conscious laughter, trying to ease the tension that crept up her spine. "To be honest, I'm a little uncertain myself. I've only ever been with one person, but I picked up some things working at the brothel." A wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Guarding it, that is. I never...you know."
"Right, of course," Alistair replied quickly, face flushing. An awkward beat passed between them.
With a dull thunk, Gwen leaned her head back against the rough bark of the tree. The sound echoed in the clearing, mixing with the chirping crickets and rustling leaves. She closed her eyes, unwilling to look at him as her face quickly started to match his in colour. Maker’s breath why was this so hard?
The silence between them became thick and stifling. Alistair cleared his throat, searching for something to say, anything to break the tension. But before he could form a single word, Gwen's eyes snapped open and her gaze met his with a determined set of her jaw.
"But I do want to try," she said firmly. "With you. Something small to start. Just my hands, nothing else. I could… I could show you, if you wanted."
The sincerity in her voice cut through any lingering doubts or awkwardness Alistair might have felt. He took a deep breath and nodded, reaching out to take her hand in his.
"Right, hands," he said with a small smile. "I… I would like to try that."
"We'll take it slow," she promised. "And tell me if you want to stop, at any point. I want you to be comfortable."
As her heart thundered beneath her skin, Alistair's silent nod was all the confirmation Gwen needed. With a gentle caress of his cheek, she traced her fingers across the rough stubble that adorned his face. Closing the distance between them, she pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss.
A moment of hesitation passed before Alistair responded, his hand instinctively rising to cup the back of her neck. They had kissed before, but never like this. The air around them seemed to crackle with heat as their lips met and their bodies leaned into each other. Gwen's tongue teased the seam of his lips, begging for entrance that Alistair eagerly granted with a sigh.
Her slender fingers wound through his hair, sharp nails lightly scratching his scalp and sending delicious shivers down his spine. Alistair groaned into her mouth, the sound swallowed by her answering hum. His hands found her waist, gripping her tight and pulling her body tightly against his own, their hips pressing together in a perfect fit.
They kissed languidly, exploratively, until the need for air forced them apart. Eyes half-lidded and dark with desire, Gwen trailed her lips along his jaw, his neck, pausing to nip at his earlobe and relishing his shaky exhale.
"Can I touch you, Alistair?" she breathed against his ear. She wanted him to feel as good as he made her feel just by being in his presence.
"Please," he managed, voice rough with want. The ache of arousal was already straining against the front of his trousers, pressing into her lower stomach.
Gwen's gaze never wavered as she slid a daring hand between them, her fingers eagerly seeking out the hard length of him through the fabric. Alistair's entire body reacted, his hips bucking forward as he let out a sharp hiss of pleasure and his eyelids fluttered closed. Feeling emboldened by his response, Gwen pressed open-mouthed kisses along his throat as she continued to stroke him, revelling in the sense of control she had over him. With each touch, she felt him grow even harder. As she teased and touched him through his trousers, soft moans spilled from Alistair's lips and he leaned into her touch, his face buried in the crook of her neck, pressing her back against the rough bark of the tree behind her. Though her stomach was aflutter with nervous excitement, Gwen couldn't suppress the thrill that coursed through her veins at this intimate moment with the man she desired most.
"I want to feel you in my hand, would you like that?" She whispered, barely able to believe that she had been so bold as to ask such as thing.
With a jerky nod from Alistair, she untied the ties of his trousers, revealing his hard and weeping cock. Her fingers curled around him, feeling the warmth and hardness of his length beneath her touch. It was larger than she had imagined, yet surprisingly soft against her skin. As her hand closed around him, Alistair's breath caught in his throat and his hips instinctively jolted forward.
Alistair nearly whimpered at the skin-on-skin contact, hips rocking into her touch as she kept her hand steady. With a nip at her neck that had her gasping, he straightened, allowing her to grip him easier. His hands came up to brace himself on either side of her head, trapping her between him and the tree, his hot breath ghosting over her neck and making her shiver with anticipation. There was nowhere else she would rather be. He looked at her with dark eyes filled with longing and something else that Gwen couldn't quite put a name to. But she knew that whatever it was, it matched the intensity of what she felt for him.
Gwen's hand moved slowly along Alistair's throbbing cock, caressing him from base to tip. A low, breathy groan fell from his lips as she swirled her thumb over the sensitive head, spreading the moisture that had gathered there. She kept her grip loose, letting him stutteringly thrust into her fist, chasing the sensations that were new and overwhelming.
"Gwen, I - oh..." Alistair panted, fingers flexing restlessly against the trunk behind her as she worked him faster.
"Does that feel good?" Gwen murmured, pressing feather-light kisses to his jaw.
Alistair could only nod, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, afraid he would finish right then if he lost focus. He was entranced by the feel of her hand on him, the way she touched him with such care and tenderness.
Gwen gradually increased her pace, squeezing just a bit tighter on each upstroke. Alistair's hips bucked erratically as the pressure built. He leaned forward, his forehead resting against the cool bark of the tree as Gwen pressed hot kisses up the long column of his throat.
"Gwen, I-I'm going to..." he panted, unable to form a coherent thought.
"It's okay," she reassured him, nipping at his earlobe. "Just let go."
With a loud gasp, Alistair reached his climax, the warm liquid spilling over Gwen's fingers as he moaned her name. She continued to stroke him through his release until he finally sagged against her, panting heavily.
They stood there for a few moments, holding each other tightly as they caught their breath. Finally, Alistair pulled back slightly and looked down at Gwen with a mixture of awe and gratitude in his eyes.
"Thank you," he said softly, bringing one trembling hand up to cup her cheek. "That was...."
Gwen grinned, pleased with herself and warmed by his obvious bliss. She withdrew her hand to wipe it discreetly against the trunk of the tree that Alistair had caged her against, before helping tuck him back into his trousers.
"Good?" she asked, a hint of shyness creeping into her voice, a light blush tinging her cheeks. She had never experienced anything quite like that before. It had been a hasty, almost reckless decision made with a random stranger she had met at a tavern years ago. She’d needed someone who didn’t care enough to make her remove her bandana or to ask to many questions about her scars. But with Alistair, it was different. Even though he had not yet touched her as she had him, she had enjoyed it so much more. The way his eyes lingered on her skin, the way his voice sent shivers down her spine - it was all new and exhilarating.
"Very good. Incredible, really." Alistair wrapped his arms around her and simply held her close. "Thank you, Gwen. For showing me."
They stood entwined together, trading soft words and softer kisses, savouring this perfect stolen moment.
“Is there…” Alistair bit his lip as he started to blush again, his pupils still blown wide. “Can I do something like that for you?”
Gwen hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her face. "I...maybe next time," she said, averting her gaze. Internally, she cringed, hating the constant need to hide this part of herself even from Alistair. The scars that marred her body were a constant reminder of the pain and trauma she had endured, and they filled her with shame and self-doubt. She longed to give herself freely to this kind, gentle man, but the fear of exposing her deformities was paralyzing. It wasn’t like he hadn't seen almost every inch of her before, yet she couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability and insecurity when it came to revealing her true self to him. Every time she thought about it, her heart raced and her hands became clammy with anxiety.
Sensing her discomfort, Alistair nodded. "Of course, whenever you're ready," he said, hooking a finger beneath her chin and guiding her face back to his. "Just know that you are beautiful to me, Gwen. Every part of you."
Gwen’s heart skipped a beat at Alistair’s tender words, her chest warming with the sincerity in his gaze. It was almost unfathomable for her to grasp that someone could feel such deep affection for her, and see past the scars that marred her past.
“Thank you,” she whispered, hoping one day she could believe him.
Alistair smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. From the rooftops, remember?”
A genuine, startled laugh sprung from her chest, surprised that he’d referenced that statement again.
"Are you sure?" she asked, though not about the rooftops.
In answer, he tilted her chin up and met her lips with his. The kiss
The kiss tasted like honey and warmth, a delicate sweetness that lingered on their lips, gentle yet electric, a tantalizing promise of more to come. They parted just enough to catch their breath, foreheads touching as they clung to one another.
"I've never been more sure of anything," Alistair whispered against her mouth before claiming it once more. And she knew, he was also not talking about rooftops.
Next Chapter
A/N: First smut and it only took me 32 chapters… Oops. Sorry for the wait, there is more to come soon! But first there will be Ostagar which is decidedly unsexy. Any predictions for how Ostagar will affect Gwen?
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salchat · 11 months
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Chapter 2 - Pop-up Angel
“We haven’t sung happy birthday yet. And there are more gifts to open.”
“Cake!” yelled Jack in agreement. “Gifts!
Cas sorted through his bags and drew out three silvery candles, which looked a bit lost in amongst the winding paths of the huge cake.
“I’ll get a lighter,” said Sam.
“No need. Please turn off the lights, though Sam.” Three little grace-fuelled flames popped into existence.
And when Sam turned the lights off, the cake really did look like an ideal version of heaven. It sparkled in the candlelight, the crystalline trees cast mysterious shadows and flickering yellow flame lit up the inside of the Greek temple so that it looked like there’d be a friendly welcome there for everyone.
Jack’s voice was soft and sombre and, for a moment, wasn’t the voice of a three-year-old. “My heaven’s like that. It’s kind and beautiful and it’s a place where everyone can be happy and feel safe.”
Dean’s eyes prickled. He squeezed an arm around the little boy and felt Cas’s arm curling around from the other side and Sam was leaning down from behind to put his arms around all of them. No words were needed.
Then, “Sing!” The three-year-old was back, in full-on birthday mode. “You’re supposed to sing!”
They did - Cas’s growly, scratchy bass, Sam’s clear baritone and Dean’s expressive tenor, which he tried to tone down to blend with the lower voices, but he couldn’t. Sometimes he could sing along to music in the car and keep it light and deliberately put in a few off-key notes, so that it sounded as though it didn’t matter that much. But sometimes he couldn’t help his real, natural voice coming out, and along with it came all the emotion that was lurking inside him. Dean felt like even the few lines of Happy Birthday were a heartfelt ballad that revealed everything he felt about his little family.
Jack stood up on his chair to blow out the candles and Sammy turned the lights back on. Dean kept his head down and hoped nobody noticed him wiping his eyes.
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thecampjuicebox · 8 months
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Toxic I'm addicted to the never ending violence I'm a missile in the middle of a mosh pit I'd do anything to live inside the vicious bliss
Bruises All the screams around me start to sound like music And I'm scared of what I'll do the day I lose it 'Cause I know I'm gonna die inside the vicious bliss
Slit my wrist, and I lick my lips Just to get a taste of the vicious bliss Going 99, speeding off the cliff Just to get a taste of the vicious bliss
I've got a hunger for the hunt of adrenaline I play the sheep amongst the wolves just to feel again I've got a pyromantic heart and the fires, my friend I throw myself inside the flames to feel alive again
Slit my wrist, and I lick my lips Just to get a taste of the vicious bliss Going 99 speeding off the cliff Just to get a taste of the vicious bliss
Violently happy Drowning in ecstasy Floating on moonbeams Embracing entropy
In the flames I hold the pain of a hundred years As I glisten in the sea of a million tears I thank each blade that's pierced my skin for the scars I own And every fist that's kissed my lips makes my smile grow
Slit my wrist, and I lick my lips Just to get a taste of the vicious bliss Going 99, speeding off the cliff Just to get a taste of the vicious bliss
Violently happy Drowning in ecstasy Floating on moonbeams Embracing entropy
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