#and that’s coming from a dark romance reading ho

[breathlessdelight]

we read 1d worm kink on ao3 so colleen hoover could run

[twig-tea]

Love in the Big City TV Series Episodes 5 & 6: Kylie Once Again Recontextualizes Everything

Thanks as always to @lurkingshan and @bengiyo for the wrangling and discussion questions!

I already wrote about the relationship between Gyu-Ho and Yeong in this part, so I wanted to focus on something else for book club. And after working on the timeline in the series, I decided to revisit my meta for Part 3 of the novel, in which I wrote about how Kylie recontextualizes everything that came before we knew about her. I’d like to do the same here for the series while reflecting on the differences.  Knowing when his mother died, the T-aras being present through the whole story, and starting the story after Kylie are the three big changes that I think worked really well in this adaptation, and all of these changes mean that the revelation about Kylie in episodes 5-6 hit a little differently than in the book. 

[screenshot from this post by @how-to-be-a-tree]

With the revelation in this part that Yeong went to the military a few months before the T-aras, we now know that Yeong had recently contracted HIV just before the series began.The hints in episode 1 that he was struggling (hadn’t been going to class, doing odd jobs and asking for the extra clothes) make more sense. It also recontextualizes the aggressive kiss in the club where he kissed that stranger so hard he bled. This also means that, unlike in the novel, he meets and befriends Mi Ae after he was already diagnosed, and since he tells Gyu-Ho that he’s the only one Yeong’s ever told, we know he never told Mi Ae either. Watching them hold each other’s hands as they whisper their secrets in the dark takes a new sad tint to it knowing that Yeong could not trust her with his deepest shame.

[screenshot from this post by @maletimbe]

I wonder if part of his strong reaction to her outing him to Jun Ho was because he had been wanting to tell her, and it was painful knowing he could never trust her with that secret. I wonder if that’s why he doesn’t go to the T-aras after his fight with Mi Ae, but goes to Nam Gyu instead, because he wouldn’t be able to explain to the T-aras why he was so hurt, and on some level the T-aras have already rejected that part of him so he can’t trust them with that vulnerability. 

I wonder if sending the T-aras off at Karaoke reminded him of Kylie and is part of what pushed him to break up with Nam Gyu. After his fallout with Mi Ae, when Yeoung is telling Nam Gyu to find someone braver than him, I wonder if he was thinking about Kylie.

When he goes to Nam Gyu’s funeral and asks how he died, I am pretty sure just by the way that scene was performed that he was thinking about Kylie and wondering whether he killed him–and it makes that revelation hit double-hard, that Nam Gyu was killed in a car accident speeding, because it just reinforced his worst fear: he had gotten Nam Gyu killed, just not in the way he thought. [I don’t actually hold Yeong accountable for Nam Gyu’s decision to speed, but I can imagine Yeong took it that way]. 

I wonder if Yeong was attracted to Yeong Su partially because of the way he tries to help his mother, who is an addict–there’s something in the way social stigma against addicts and poz folks is similar (partially because needle sharing is a way to contract HIV), and how acceptance of those states of being can often come together. I wonder if that's why he could take Yeong Su's more heteronormative kdrama lead style romance when it irritated him in Nam Gyu.

In any case, Yeong having HIV through that relationship and hiding it from Yeong Su makes his reading of Yeong Su’s article about the  immorality of being gay hit even harder. I also think about how irregular his schedule was then, and how bad he was at taking his medication regularly and on time. And knowing that there are restrictions to travel and to moving places, I wonder if part of his rage at Yeong Su moving to America was about knowing that even if Yeong Su had asked, he could not have joined him (you can travel to the USA with HIV but it can be difficult to get a green card). Honestly he was probably too hit with the betrayal and callous rejection to do that full calculus in his head in that moment but I wanted an excuse to use this gif because watching Yeoung punch Yeong Su is good for the spirit:

It also recontextualizes the scenes with his mother, and how much she cared about appearances and judgment, and how she contextualized her own disease as a punishment from God, so how could he not do the same about his own? When overdoses on pills, and his mother tells him not to be in a rush to die, I wonder if the hospital successfully did not disclose his HIV status to her during that period.

Seeing the T-aras there and so worried about him must have been healing even if they still don’t know about this major part of him; he knows they love and care for him and want him alive. Yeong not telling the T-aras about his application to the company because he’s afraid of being rejected for his HIV status tells me that he still hasn’t told the T-aras about Kylie through Part 3; I’m not sure he ever will. But there are people in our lives who we love and who love us in return who we keep secrets from; it means there will always be a level of distance, but it does not mean we aren’t important to each other. 

His mother dying at the beginning of Part 3 is a significant detail that we don’t get in the book, and it made me rethink why Parts 1 and 2 did not mention Kylie at all. In the series, we have Yeong writing Part 1 in episodes 1-2, Part 2 in episodes 3-4, and Part 3 in episodes 5-6. We know he wanted his mother to never know about Kylie, and we know that she followed his literary career and kept copies of his work even if she won’t read them. So it makes sense that he could only write about having HIV and incorporating that into his narrative after her death. I also wonder if Yeong being willing to open up to Gyu-Ho about Kylie has to do with his mother’s death: One of his reasons for keeping the secret so carefully is no longer present.

This isn't recontextualized because by the time we see this we know about Kylie, but how much of Yeong's fixation on Gyu-Ho's silent sleeping and needing to check he's still breathing has to do with his fear that Gyu-Ho still hasn't settled into the relationship and is tip-toeing around him, and how much of it has to do with his fear of giving Gyu-Ho HIV and making him ill? They're barely having sex so it's a pretty irrational fear but that's not how fear works. We know he's thinking about Kylie all the time through this section because he asks Gyu-Ho about how he feels abut Yeong being "dirty" more than once.

One last moment of painful reflection: The first two parts of this series had clear relationship pairings and parallels: Mi Ae and Nam Gyu in Part 1, and Yeong Su and Yeong's mother in Part 2. I was thinking about whether Kylie and Gyu-Ho are our pairing in Part 3, and while I don't think we get enough reflection about Kylie to make this case strongly, I'm struck by how Yeong characterizes Kylie as something he is "stuck with forever", and how he is determined to let Gyu-Ho go.

[dramashutup]

My 2024 dramas rating

I wanted to do 10 of these but it turns out that I've only watched 8 of 2024 dramas lol

Rewatched a few of my faves but I'm not rating those.

These will have spoilers. So here goes

1. Flex x Cop 10/10 !!

✅ This drama has a special place in my heart. It's crime, action-hero and it made me fall in love all over again with non-romance drama

✅ Park Ji Hyun as Lee Gang Hyun 🫡. (in another news I'm gonna go look up her latest work) I've only seen her as the annoying 2nd fl before this and she was great in this one. She broke the mold of annoying 2nd fl and is an independent, capable and cool-headed detective

✅ There's no dark past whatsoever. She just loves her job. And she may seem judgemental and prejudiced towards I Soo at first but she learned that I Soo is not just another arrogant chaebol as they work together; it's that he's actually an arrogant, smart, caring and resourceful chaebol lol

✅ Jin I Soo? I love him. Arrogant chaebol with a golden heart who has a clumsy way of showing he's not heartless definitely will have my heart. He's smart, he's funny and he's shameless 100/100 😂

✅ What makes a story much more interesting for me is banters. Yessss banters. Their relationship is fun even w/o romance. They trusted each other, even tho it all started on the wrong feet

✅ Gang Hyun's parents is also a highlight for this drama :))

Second season is coming !!! 🫡🙂‍↕️📢💕💕💕

Excited!!!

2. Eye Love You 3/10 (dropped)

I'm sorry. I tried to love this.

❌ I do watch jdramas and jmovies but this was just simply wasn't it for me.

❌ I wanted to love it because of Chae Jeong Hyeop, but bulldozer sunshine is not my vibe. I dropped it like halfway thru?

✅ The fl's office is really nice tho. And the fl is really funny, that, I remember well.

The suspension of disbelief simply wouldn't suspend the disbelief for me for this one :||

3. Serendipity's Embrace 6/10

�� This could've been shorter. There I said it. XD. Yes shorter than 8

✅ I love love Hye Ji, Hong Joo's best friend.

✅Hoo Yeong's uncle was relatable, sad and single,

❌ tho I wish he didn't have that weird first love line thing with Hong Joo's boss too. That was just uncomfortable

❌ And what about Hoo Yeong, you ask? Well..... tbh..... I don't really like broody mls. I'm not a fan of those 'he treats her specially nice because he loves her but to everyone else he's just cold'. I'm not a fan of that because I am an anxiety-driven gal and this trait simply doesn't vibe with me

✅ It's funny that Hong Joo's ex was Kim So Hyun's rival in her previous drama tho (My Lovely Liar) Mr. Yoon Ji On 👀

Which leads me to....

4. Love Next Door 4/10

Ha ha ha hahaha

❌ As you can probably guess from the poster of this drama I used which is of the side character Jeong Mo Eum, I simply couldn't stand the main couple

❌ Actually I did loved the main couple initially. I even defended the ml after the first 4 episodes, but then... I took a step back metaphorically and realized that his behavior and the fl's family behavior grated my teeth so much

❌ They kept nagging at the fl. Everything the fl did was wrong to them. She was not allowed to have her own views or that they didn't want to see things from her perspective

❌ Personally, I've met these kind of people irl and the suspension of disbelief and rose colored glasses couldn't do their jobs for this drama for me

❌ I dislike both the family and the ml until the end. The ml is whiny and entitled. That's it.

I hope she divorces him and run away from the neighborhood in the future lol

✅ Kang Dan Ho and Jung Mo Eum were so cute tho. And as all the other side couples ever, they deserved more screen time and development.

I'm looking forward to future works of Yoon Ji On. He's the reason I started this drama initially lol

5. What Comes After Love 7/10

After the disappointment that was the previous drama, I watched this.

Ok, here's what I learned. I can read melodrama (?) novels, but I need to use 1.25/1.5x speed when I'm watching slow dramas. Is it the adhd? Probably

Anyway

✅ This drama is so pretty. The contrast between the flashbacks when the couple was younger in Japan and the grayer aesthetic in Korea after their breakup is ✨✨✨

✅ I envy Lee Se Young for being able to speak Japanese so well for the drama lol. She really made me believe she spent her younger days in Japan.

✅ i love the side characters at the shop she worked at. The boss? So tall 👀

👀 I'm just surprised the ending implies that they're back together. After all that pain and those sad lingering looks

6. Fangs of Fortune 8/10

I know I was basically rambling about this drama for weeks and therefore you'd think it'd get full marks

Okay

✅ It's a fantastic story.

✅ Costume? 💯 So effin beautiful. So beautiful.

✅ Humor? 💯

✅ Characters? 💯 I love the characters to pieces, you don't even know. This is my Six of Crows cdrama version

✅ OST? 💯

❌ But then it relies sm on dramatics. And tears. Oh so much tears.

❌ And I may also be side eyeing the ending. Some people say it's a good ending, but I will agree to disagree. 🙂‍↕️

Edit : yes I've watched the extra episode and I don't like it still. Death is a very permanent thing imo lol and while his soul does come back, it's no replacement for the real person to me. I've never liked the death trope.

It's a bit traumatizing tbh lol 😂

7. Family By Choice 9.5/10

Edit :

❌ I'm also dissatisfied with the development of the m/f main ship. I love them, they had the potential to be The OTP for me but then the didn't really get developed, possibly because they were kinda already established before the event of the story, in a way, and so the storyline focused more on ZYC and ZYZ flip flopping relationship....so yh. It's fantasy with a dash of romance

And I went into the drama after seeing cute spoiler scenes of Wen Xiao and ZYZ so yeah... I was on the Train bound for Disappointment Terminal

✅ This drama welcomed me like a loaf of warm bread, blanket and warm chocoa after the pain of FoF

✅ Yoon-sajang is the best dad in kdrama land. He's the president of Good Dads of Kdrama. 💐 💐 🫡

✅ Glad that Kim Sanha's mum was not redeemed at the end. She just backed away after being a complete and utter bitch with no self-awareness. Thank you for not redeeming her.

✅ plsssss I love Hwang in Yeop as this gentle boyfriend 👀🤗

✅ This is such a warm drama, a family drama of the year for me. I know I'll rewatch this a lot

My issues are only that

❌ I need more episodes 😔😔 xD

❌ Kim Sanha's issues didn't really have their own proper build up closure. The focus was too much on Hae Jun's 😔 when Sanha is also one of the main characters. Not to mention Juwon as one of the trio? ://

8. The Story of Pearl Girl 9/10

(my sister is obsessed with both Liu Yuning and Zhang Linghe and tried to get me to watch their dramas; Princess Royal, and My Journey to You and Story of Pearl Girl,

I can't watch another Edward Guo's drama for the time being so I chose Princess Royal which I haven't finished but I'm loving, and The Story of Pearl Girl which I have!)

What is it about cdramas and death of the main lead idek smh

✅ Ik this drama let a lot of people down for some reasons but I'm guessing it didn't let me down partly because I started it after it ended lol. So the binging was great!

✅ I think it fits that it's the story of pearl girl; that is Duanwu, we watch her grow from this hotheaded determined girl into a capable smart businesswoman Su Muzhe

✅ while Zhijing's story began with him being at the top of his game, hunting down the people who killed his family as a merchant, then he learned to love and learned that his actions have consequences to his loved one

✅ It's not his story, but it's the story of the pearl girl, so I guess goodbye was in due time. Poetic or something something

✅ The way they fell in love with Duanwu being the only person who questioned him and then kind of got under his skin. 🤌🏻🤌🏻

✅ I love how Kang Ju implied a couple times that Duanwu was growing more and more like Zhijing; calculating, resourceful, and smart, that by the end I think it's poetic that she becomes the successful businesswoman. Apart from her own very capable brains, she also learned from a lot of people who were basically not very good, who were good to her, and Zhijing himself; the strategist

✅ That 1.9m guy and the 1.6ish gal. Love the height difference 🤌🏻

✅ Kang Ju, the best not third wheel 😆

I was informed that in the novel Zhijing dies and afterwards Duanwu marries Zhang Jinran and they have a child. They didn't go down this route in the drama

And ngl, I quite like the novel ending. Zhang Jinran is a good guy and he's not an annoying 2ndml

Moving on is not a bad thing imo, it simply means the character found love again. It doesn't mean they've forgotten their previous love

And I'm quite partial to the idea that for the drama, Zhijing didn't die, but went on a journey to find an antidote with Kang Ju.

Pls... If they're not gonna straight up show him being buried or stabbed like ZYZ in FoF, I'm not gonna believe that he dies 😆 let me die on this hill.

____________________

I'm currently watching

1. Princess Royal

2. More rewatching of Story of Pearl Girl until the serotonin runs out

3. Brewing Love. Love this! Kim Sejeong! <3

4. I might go look for A Journey to Love next after finishing 1. and 3.

5. Light Shop!! So creepy!! So intriguing!!

If you're wondering why most of these don't have extensive explanation, that's because I have the memory of a mayfly. After some time I only remember the vibe 😀 unless it really gave me a lasting impression

[satureja13]

Saiwa and Jeb agreed to start their new relationship 3.5 by spending more couple time together. So they went to the beach to go jogging. We already learned that it does Sai good to run off his anger and that it calms him down. And Jeb goes jogging almost every morning anyway. (And Sai stretches (again) in front of Jeb to show off, to accellerate things a bit, lol. After reading all those gay romance books and seeing Jeb in his hot goth outfit, Sai can't wait to get physical again with Jeb.) And it seems Sai is successful, by the way Jeb looks at him <3

Later, they all gathered to do the homework Leander assigned to them. Collecting all their abilities and weaknesses. Poor Ji Ho has to watch how Vlad and Jack are chatting and laughing together... The Bond is silent since they arrived here to study beyond the Veil. And Vlad barely looks Ji Ho's way. Let alone says a word to him. Is Vlad really convinced that their love was just caused by a spell to get a grip on Vlad's powers? To avert the prophecy?

Skully has joined them. He brought Vlad's logs and the notes from the Little Goats to help the Boys remember all the occasions they used their magic and unique abilities. Which only caused Jack and Vlad to chat and laugh more together, as they remembered the exciting times they had together. Ji Ho is boiling. Now, that he finally got his feelings back and discovered his true, deep love for Vlad, Jack got struck by lightning and spreads his pheromones on Vlad! (The painting behind Ji Ho matches his anger ö.Ö')

A few hours later, Ms Coombes arrived for their Defense against the Dark Arts lesson. She divided them into two groups. Sai, Jack and Ji Ho started. They were supposed to use their (magic) abilities to hit the jugs, and if that turned out successful, try to hit the mannequin as well. Sai failed and Jack, as the strongest of them, could easily shatter the jugs and the mannquin to dust, but he has none of the magic abilities to do any harm from a distance. Ms Coombes: "That was to be expected. But don't worry, you have other ways to attack. Now you, Ji Ho." Usually Ji Ho also doesn't have any ranged attack powers. But Ms Coombes encouraged him to use his new found feelings and scan through himself to fathom unknown powers hiding in the dephts deep inside of him.

The only way he knows to influence someone are his Siren's Songs. But he doesn't know if this could also work with things that lack feelings he can influence... Ms Coombes told him not to hold back. It's only some old jugs and a mannequin... And so Ji Ho unleashed all his anger in a powerful song.

'There is no escape and that's for sure This is the end, we won't take anymore Say goodbye to the world you live in You've always been taking and now you're giving

Running, on our way Hiding, you will pay Dying one thousand deaths

Searching, seek and destroy

Our brains are on fire with the feeling to kill And it won't go away until our dreams are fulfilled There is only one thing on our minds Don't try running away 'cause you're the one we will find'

And really, all the three jugs burst from Ji Ho's voice alone! No one expected this. Not even Ms Coombes. Ji Ho felt powerful! He channeled all his anger and jealousy and helplessness - and let it all out. And it felt good!

Ms Coombes seemed a bit shocked, but she - hesistantly - told Ji Ho to proceed with the mannequin. And Ji Ho couldn't wait to feel the power run through him again! It felt even better than doing bond magic with Vlad. Now that he has his feelings back, everything felt so much more intense! Ji Ho hit the statue with all his anger. But it didn't burst - just lit up. Maybe he's already spent?

Ms Coombes: "Eh. Very well done, Ji Ho!" She looked at Jack: "My time here is limited, as you know. So quickly leave and let the other group enter." Jack: "Yes, Ms Coombes. Come on. Let's not waste their time." If Ji Ho weren't so excited about his new found powers, he might have found this very weird. Ms Coombes puzzled, her and Jack not quarreling and Saiwa utterly silent... And did the mannequin just tremble?

Sai, Ji Ho and Jack left the building and Jack hurried them down to the Screaming Mandrake to prepare dinner while the others are supposed to have their lesson. They didn't see Vlad, Jeb and Kiyoshi around, though...

Meanwhile, Jeb and Kiyoshi ran down to the Dark Arts classroom. Just where the mannequin stood just a few seconds ago, Vlad fell to the ground. Jeb: "Gods, Vlad!" Ms Coombes was near to tears, Vlad is her favourite: "Quick, help him get up and bring him to the hospital wing! Ji Ho was stronger than expected. Oh I shouldn't have allowed this!" Oh no! They hid Vlad in the mannequin to test if Ji Ho has the power to influence or hurt him! They knew Ji Ho would never attack Vlad purposely with all his power. No matter how angry he was at him ö.ö And that's why Ms Coombes had sent Wesley the other day - to prepare everything!

Kiyoshi and Jeb are excellent healers. Kiyoshi helped Vlad get up while Jeb reassured Ms Coombes. Vlad moaned. He wasn't able to get up by himself. Kiyoshi: "Don't move. Let me help you."

Is this the evidence that Ji Ho is under a spell from his grandfather and a danger for Vlad? We'll try to find out in the next episode!

The song Ji Ho sang shouted out was Seek and Destroy by Metallica MV is from a live concert from 1983! Still with bassist Cliff Burton (he died 1986 in an accident). TMI: I remember back in the days, my then-boyfriend and I discussed who was good looking in the metal scene, and he was utterly convinced that James Hetfield was the, by far, hottest of them all and all the girls were after him ^^' I surely wasn't! But maybe he was ;)

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

[nanowrimo]

10 Ways to Turn Revision Into an Adventure

For some of us, revision may be your next big challenge during Camp. Sounds a little intimidating, doesn’t it? Well, have no fear! NaNo participant Madison Vaughn-Parra is here to make revision fun! So… you’ve got yourself a first draft. Perhaps it’s years worth of work, or perhaps it was the product of the frenzied rush that is National Novel Writing Month. Either way, you’ve deemed it a complete work, which means only one thing: it’s ready for revision.

Did you picture lightning striking on a dark and stormy night when reading the big “R” word? If so, you’re not alone! For many, revision is even more intimidating than dreaming up a novel from scratch. If writing a first draft was an adventure of epic proportions, then revising that same draft is a slog through already-explored terrain, right?

Wrong! I’ve found that revision can be just as grand of an adventure as writing 50K in 30 days! To prove it, I’d like to share ten ways you can turn your revision journey from a dreaded duty into an exciting adventure:

1. First things first: make a copy of your first draft, and then don’t touch the original! You don’t want your adventure bogged down by regrets, after all, and having an untouched first draft will ensure that if you’re unhappy with any changes, you’ll always have the original to fall back on.

2. Be prepared! Just as you wouldn’t want to forget your socks and undies, you’re going to want to pack everything you need to help you on your revision adventure. NaNoWriMo’s “Now What?” revision guide should come in handy, for starters!

3. Take a trip off the beaten path and explore all of the “What If’s”, no matter how wild they might seem. What if you added to the chemistry of your main characters and turned your action-adventure novel into a full-blown romance? What if the murder mystery mastermind was the other guy? The possibilities are endless!

4. Go on a hunt to find the most hilarious typos born from the fever-induced ramblings of the NaNo mind, and share them with your writing group for laughs!

5. Make it a game! For example, does your novel have a character who keeps disappearing from scenes they’re supposed to be in? (Mine was a tiny dragon named Mouse…) Every time you write that character back into a scene, reward yourself with a treat for “finding” them!

6. Gleefully chop away at tangents, plot twists, and descriptions you included in your first draft simply for word count. No one can stop you from backspacing now!

7. Try new tools! Is there any better feeling than using a brand new travel accessory for the first time? That’s how I felt when I first tried Scrivener’s split-screen feature and discovered just how fun it made revision. Why not check out NaNoWriMo’s offers page to see if any new tools spark your excitement?

8. Delight in discovering passages that you have absolutely no memory of writing! If you’re anything like me, there will be quite a few of them, and you’ll find you can improve them with the ease of editing someone else’s writing.

9. Capture your favorites! Create a “Snapshots” document or folder and fill it with all the first draft passages that you got right the first time. If you start feeling discouraged during revising, simply pull up these snapshots and remind yourself of your own genius!

10. If you really want to capture the NaNo spirit, try rewriting your novel from start to finish without even glancing at your first draft. This trick terrifies me, personally, but I know folks who swear by it! Congratulations! You’re now ready for your revision adventure! Pack up your bags, be kind to yourself, and have fun exploring your novel again. I’ll be right there with you!

Madison Vaughn-Parra is a lifelong writer and passionate geek, who technically works a corporate job in program management but prefers to spend her time in fantasy and science-fiction worlds of her own creation. She’s happily lost in the woods of her own revision adventure at the moment and hoping to dive into the publishing process next. She rarely posts on Twitter, but you can still follow her @vaughn__boyage if you’d like! Header Photo by Leah Kelley from Pexels

[sixhours]

Chapter 16 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

You haven’t been to the attic in six weeks. The radio stays silent with no transmissions in or out. As each day passes, you feel a cold steel vice inside you begin to loosen its grip. To your superiors, you are a dead woman, and that’s just fine by you.

You can almost imagine coming out of this on the other side.

~*~

You and Ellie are sitting on the floor in the living room playing a game of Boggle when Joel stumbles through the door after patrol.

“Whoa,” Ellie says, jumping to her feet at his entrance, nearly upturning the board in her haste. You turn around and see Joel’s shirt spattered with fresh dark blood, traces running up his neck, threaded through his beard.

“What happened?”

“S’not mine,” he says gruffly. He unbuttons the shirt with trembling fingers, drops it to the floor, shucks off his boots.

“Hate to see the other guy,” Ellie mutters.

“Gonna shower,” he whispers hoarsely, bypassing you without meeting your eyes, socked feet heavy on the stairs. Soon there’s the sound of running water, the pipes groan as the heater kicks on.

You meet Ellie’s eyes, exchanging a silent look of worry.

“Might as well finish,” she sighs, plopping back down on the floor, rubbing at the bandage on her arm. “Your turn to roll.”

“Don’t scratch,” you say absently. She scowls but moves her hand away.

The two of you shake the dice, set the timer, and scribble out the words in a yellowed notebook. Ellie soundly kicks your ass, but you’re both distracted. The shower stays running upstairs, and soon you put the game away.

As you’re cleaning up, she ventures a tentative remark. “Joel seemed weird.”

“He’ll be fine,” you say reflexively. “Just a hard day.”

She snorts, watching as you move to the door and pick up Joel’s shirt, examining the blood stains. You feel her eyes on you as you take it to the sink, running cold water over the fabric.

Ever since the burn, she’s been muted and withdrawn, but Joel’s appearance has shaken her. Part of you thinks you should go to her, try to comfort her, but you know you’re not the one she wants.

When it’s clear you’re not going to be of much help, she huffs a frustrated sigh. “I’m going to bed,” she says flatly. “I have my headphones so I can’t hear you doing anything gross.”

She trudges upstairs, the slam of her bedroom door echoing down the narrow hall.

~*~

Eventually, you find yourself standing in the hallway outside Joel’s bedroom. The door hangs open a crack, an arc of yellow light from the bathroom spilling across the darkened floor.

“Joel?”

No response.

Feeling like an intruder, you approach the bathroom door, easing it open. He’s standing in the shower, back to you, braced on one arm against the wall. The room is damp but not exactly warm. The shower has run cold and he’s shivering under the stream.

“Joel?” Louder this time. He doesn’t stir at the sound of your voice, doesn’t move, save for the shaking of his shoulders.

A dark thought strikes you, makes your heart skip. The blood on his clothes, his face. His unnatural stillness, the jerky motion of his limbs, the sudden lack of awareness. Your mind goes blank with white-hot fear.

He’s infected. He was bit, and he’s infected. Run get out go–gogogo–

You barely hear him over the running water and the sound of your internal panic. He’s turned to you, staring with the same haunted look he brought home. He’s naked; you can see there are no bites, no wounds, just his usual scars, and tired, hopeless eyes.

“Christ, Miller, you’re freezing,” you say dumbly.

You grab a clean towel from the bedroom closet, wrapping it around his shoulders as he steps out of the tub, shivering. He seems to wake up at this, coming back to you as you rub the terrycloth into his shoulders and back, trying to generate heat.

“We got swarmed,” he says through chattering teeth. “Eliot got bit.”

You swallow hard. “Shit.”

He doesn’t have to tell you what he did out there.

“We barely made it out. They’re gonna send a bigger team tomorrow.”

You frown. “How are there so many?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t know. Somethin’s bringing ‘em to the area. Maria says…they’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”

“Will the wall hold?”

“Yeah…yeah, it should,” he sighs, shakily sitting on the bed. “But it’s makin’ patrols a hell of a lot harder. Shit, I can’t…can’t get warm,” he whispers.

“You’re in shock.”

As if to prove the point, his body gives a violent shake. “F-f-fuck.”

“C’mon. Under the covers,” you say. “Doctor’s orders.”

He groans but doesn’t resist when you pull the quilt back and urge him under it, wincing at the iciness of his skin. “Wanna roleplay, d-doc?”

“I don’t need to roleplay,” you say pointedly. “You’ve made yourself a regular patient.”

The bed creaks softly as you lay down next to him, pressing yourself closer to share your body heat over the covers. Slowly his trembling lessens.

“Gotta tell his wife,” he mumbles. “Fuck, we haven’t lost anyone in…f-fuck.”

“Someone from the council will take care of it,” you say, smoothing a damp curl off his forehead. You know the procedures by heart. Even grief is a shared effort in this place.

Joel’s breathing slows, the shaking finally having worked its way out of his limbs. You graze a fingertip over his cheek and find it warm. In the dim light of the bathroom, you can see his eyes are already closed.

~*~

When you wake, the light outside has that dewy, moonlit look of early summer. Joel must have been up, because the room is bathed in darkness and his quilt is pulled up to your shoulders, over your clothes.

You reach out to find him. Your hand reflexively goes to his chest, checking his breathing. It’s steady, but not slow. His hand immediately finds yours and holds it there.

“Sorry…I woke you.”

“S’ok.” You edge toward him sleepily, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in. Your eyes drift shut, threatening to pull you under.

He rolls to face you, large hands cupping the bones of your cheeks, your jaw, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. Asking, wanting. His lips pillowy and sweet under yours, his tongue teasing, stroking, until you’re both breathless.

“Please,” he whispers hoarsely, broken.

He’s gentle in a way you couldn’t have imagined, whispering soft encouragement in your ear as he removes your clothes, peeling off each layer until your skin is pressed to his . The words flow from his lips as he runs them over your body in worship.

He fits himself inside you with practiced ease, one hand splayed at your back, moving with you. His other hand slips between your joined bodies and finds your center, delicious friction coiled low in your abdomen, a sweet release that washes over you like a tide. You moan into his mouth, feeling him grow inside you, pulsing, emptying himself.

Your lovemaking leaves you boneless, sated. You’re drifting in that liminal space when you feel the rumble of his chest, the soft purring of his mouth in your hair, and you become vaguely aware that he’s talking.

“Mmm?”

There’s a deep pause, long enough to convince you you must have dreamed it until he says the words, so soft, so faint.

“She’s immune.”

“...what?”

“She can’t be infected,” he says softly. “It’s…in her brain or somethin’. She was born…with it.”

You pull away, trying to read his face. “Ellie? How do you–”

“You can’t tell anyone,” he breathes, eyes boring into yours. “You can’t…they’ll take her.”

“I won’t,” you say automatically, feeling a dark pit boil in the center of your abdomen as you try to reassure him. “I won’t, but…who will take her?”

“The Fireflies tried to…we thought…thought there might be a cure.”

For a moment you’re so dumbfounded that you don’t even know what he’s referring to. A cure? A cure for what?

“...for the fungus? That’s…not possible,��� you say slowly. “Cordyceps–it doesn’t…die. It’s too widespread at this point, there’s no…”

“Not a cure, then, a…a vaccine.”

Silence, the quiet hum of the house around you as you contemplate this.

“There was a hospital. In Utah. They were going to open her up…her brain–” he breaks off, swallowing hard.

Jesus.

“...and I was supposed to just take her out there, deliver her so they could just…carve her into pieces and…”

His hand finds yours, gripping it tightly.

“An’ I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t…let them…take her…even if it meant we’d never have to do this again,” he whispers. “Never have to worry about a bite…”

Your mind fills in the unspoken words.

Never have to shoot your patrol partner. Never have to watch your loved one’s eyes go empty, their skin crawling with infection. Never have to struggle to make each day mean something as the world crumbles around you.

“I know it makes me a selfish asshole…but I wouldn’t change a goddamned thing,” he whispers fiercely.

“And she doesn’t know,” you say faintly, a statement, not a question.

I think he’s lying to me.

A shuddering in-breath. “She needed it to…to mean something. She was so fuckin’ hopeful …and I just…killed it…

“Now she wakes up screamin’ and I can’t… shoot the nightmares away. I can’t… hurt them the way they hurt her, and I can’t…I can’t…she’s been through too much because of me. And now I can’t take it back, I can’t make it…right...”

You watch a tear slip quietly from the corner of his eye and drop into the tender shell of his ear. 

“I put too much on her, I know that. But if she was gone, I…I couldn’t–”

And here he is, naked, cracked open and bleeding tears, and you don’t think you can stand it. He shudders, pressing his face into the crux of your shoulder like a small child seeking comfort.

Your fingers trail absently through his curls as you try to absorb everything–his words, his tears, his confession.

It makes sense now.

The scars. His fierce protection. Her blinding anger.

FEDRA’s interest.

That last thought lands heavily in your stomach, curdling like spoiled milk. You think of how close you’d come to serving the girl up on a platter to your superiors, who would no doubt find a way to make use of her. You think of how many secrets you’ve told…and how many lies.

You, of all people, have nothing to offer. Who are you to judge the shape of his cowardice? Save the world or save his girl, there was only ever one path. So you hold him, because there are no more words, and you wait for morning to come.

[emoxxzombie]

Winx Club Character Essays: Musa

Quick disclaimer: this is basically me just rambling (so be warned.) While I will present already known canon information, I will also be sharing my own hcs. So pretty much how I see Musa based on canon. Please keep that in mind as you read through, as I'm sure many of your guys' views on Musa are different from mine. Another thing that I'd like to add is that this "essay" specifically discusses Musa in the earlier seasons of Winx, since the writers did change her personality up a lot in the later seasons. Anyways, with that out of the way, let's get into the actual "essay"

So, let's start off with what we already know about Musa, shall we?

Musa is the fairy of music, and was born on the planet Melody. Her birthday is May 30th, and she is 16 years old during the first season of Winx. She is the daughter of Matlin and Ho-Boe, and her on-and off boyfriend being Riven. She is an aspiring singer and musician. Among her friends, Musa scores the best grades in her schoolwork. She's a bit of a loner and is one of the most tomboyish among the other Winx. Musa is very emotionally vulnerable, and offsets this by appearing strong and resilient, often times putting up a strong front.

Now, let's look a bit more into her personality. At times Musa can be quite a snide, as seen with Stella and even Flora in the earlier seasons. She is also short tempered and moody. We see her get quite defensive over herself (as well as her friends.) She's not afraid to get in people's faces if it comes down to it. Musa is a good listener too though. For instance, in s2 when Aisha/Layla had just transferred to Alphea, and felt like she didn't fit in, Musa was right there for her and comforted her when she needed it most.

I want to go over Musa's appearance now. She has a light skin complexion (close to pale), dark blue hair, and dark blue eyes. Clothing wise, in s1 her main civilian outfit consists of a single strapped red tank top, a purple bicep bracelet (that usually appears on her right bicep but you'll sometimes see it on the left), sagged baggy blue jeans that expose her pink underwear slightly, and red sneakers with white soles. I personally, think that Musa likes to dress for herself and doesn't give a shit about what others think of the way she dresses. She dresses for herself, not for the approval of others. Her clothing is another way she expresses herself freely, besides music. Non canonically, I think that Musa also likes to wear a lot of alternative leaning clothes. She mixes components of mall goth, punk, and skater into a sort of streetwear look. She's not that into makeup, and when she does decide to wear some it'll usually just be basic black eyeliner.

For interests, we obviously know that she loves to sing and play instruments, her favorite being a concert flute. She also likes to dance and party. But, let's look into some of my personal interest hcs for her. She likes to skateboard and can do numerous tricks. She may not be as good as Layla might be, but she's definitely good. She loves to watch horror and romance movies. Psychological horror is her favorite but she'll watch almost anything horror. She isn't much into reading and prefers to avoid it (unless it's for studying purposes.) But, she does enjoy graphic novels and comics. She likes to go on late night walks, which help her clear her head and think clearly. When she's not able to go out at night for a walk (for whatever reason), she'll usually stay up until 3 AM playing videogames with Tecna. I have more interest/hobby hcs but I'll stop there.

Now let's talk relationships. We already know who Musa's father and mother are. Her mother, Matlin, died when Musa was a very young child. I've already talked about her relationship with Riven before and have shared a brief bit of my thoughts and views on that so I'm not going to delve into that here (but I'd love to make a separate blog post about it sometime!) When she first met Bloom, she didn't really like her, but not too long after, she started to be able to tolerate her, and then they became friends. In s2, she grew very close to Layla, and they quickly befriended each other. They're best friends (and I will forever be mad about the writers deciding to randomly cut off their friendship in the later seasons.. but I'm going to completely ignore that rn.) Musa is also close to Tecna, but not as much as she is to Layla. She doesn't have many friends outside of the Winx, but that doesn't bother her, she's very happy with the friend group she has.

I could write so much more about Musa, but I think that this post is already long enough as is. To anyone and everyone who actually read all way the way up to this point I literally love you sm omg 😭. Winx is something that I'm really passionate about and it's been one of my biggest hyperfixtations for as long as I can remember.

I plan to write more character essays on some of the other characters from Winx, not sure when, but I'll get to it eventually :).

[ovenstavern]

oh. my. goodness. its like 3am in my area and i just finished a nightlong binge on the manhwa, Secret Alliance by Creator Lero. if i had to put it into a genre, i’d say its a psychological thriller, and…

ho. ly. shit.

i was never a visual novel or “comics” person, but holy fuck. this blew me away. i discovered a tik tok about it, with the nutshell plot of “stalker crossdresses as a girl to stalk his object of attraction, who is afraid of men” and quickly gained an interest. but as i read further into the manhwa, it was so much more than that.

before i get into the details, i warn that the manhwa has dark topics such as stalking, obsession, attempted suicide, assault, sexual harassment, and trauma. the ramble (and spoilers) is gonna be below the cut. stay safe and healthy yall

okay. ho. ly. shit.

so, i don’t even know where to begin. the first few chapters introduce our main characters, eun sian and chae “yuri”. right off the bat, you quickly realize eun sian’s intense fear of men. you can already tell that she has some trauma with men, and as you continue to read, you find that her paranoid mother perpetuates and reinforces that fear; a helicopter parent to the extreme.

not only that, you can immediately detect that something isnt quite right with chae yuri (even before it was revealed he was a guy).

i dont really wanna explain the whole story in its entirety, as i believe its a story best experienced. but what i will go into is the amount of love that was poured into this story. it still astounds me

the characters are complex, and their personalities and actions are deeply rooted in the trauma that they went through. eun sian and chae yuri’s relationship is so toxic and wrought with manipulation and co-dependent, and it was written so well. it beautifully illustrates how two people that come from two different, but toxic households often can find themselves in a toxic relationship for the both of them, as they have no other reference for love.

and speaking of relationships, yujin’s and eun sian’s relationship makes me want to squeal and giggle and they’re just so cute!! i loveee at the beginning, yujin subverts our expectations and ends up being a playboy who loves the feeling of being wanted. it gives him sm room for development, and makes his relationship with eun sian so much sweeter.

yujin and eun sian make a deal that he helps her get over her fear of men, while eun sian helps yunjin get together with chae yuri. in the earliest stages of their relationship, you can tell that yujin was able to ground eun sian and reassure her when needed. even beneath his playboy exterior, his caring nature shone through, especially for her. meanwhile, eun sian makes yujin want to be better for her (and if you seen a very old post, you know how i feel about that). i loved their friendship at the beginning, and i loved their romance at the end. they’re so healthy for each other and im glad they got together in the end

and speaking of the ending?????? sjdkdndkddjjdksjdsknsnz. i loved it so. much. it was just so fulfilling. i won’t spoil it, but it touched my soul to its very core, and i couldnt think of a more satisfying note to leave it off of.

the depiction of trauma felt very realistic and well written too. eun sian’s breakdowns felt so well done, and not once did it feel like the story was calling her “crazy” or “hysterical” even if other characters told her that she was. and actually, all the relationships felt so realistic, its astounding.

and the character development was so… empowering. it was amazing to watch the moments eun sian take back the parts of herself that her abusers took, it was amazing to watch yujin transform from a playboy to a golden retriever boyfriend. i just… love love love!!

i do wish they delved into yujin’s backstory a lil more, gave hyunee (the best friend) a more influential role, and did some more with yunjin’s blackmail when he found out about chae yuri, but all in all, i loved it. i started reading at 11, and kept reading til 3. its an absolute page turner, and extreme kudos to the artist(s) and writer(s)! you have my respect

to those who want to read it, the sites i read the manhwa either has a subscription service, or an insane amount of porn ads and porn pop up browser tabs. just for viewer discretion. if it sounds like yall can deal, please read! you won’t regret it. ill definitely be revisiting this manhwa again and again. its that good

have a wonderful day yall! im finally gonna get some sleep

[mikadosekimura]

Mikado Sekimura SR 「Romance」 TL

「If the times were different, then romance is just beginning!?」

01 PUBLIC LIBRARY

Mikado: I'm sorry, A&R-san for making you wait this long for me.

A&R: No, we were planning to work on the next job together anyway, so it's no problem at all.

Mikado: Thank you for your help, I think my luggage will be heavy today... after all the third time is the charm.

A&R: Third time is the charm?

Mikado: Yes, actually I've come here twice to borrow the book I wanted, but it's always on loan....

A&R: For the third time...... I hope that you can borrow it today.

Mikado: Yes, definitely! ......I would like to say... Unfortunately, it seems that it's still on loan today.

A&R: Eh? Is it really that popular of a book? You had said that it was a reference for your assignment, so I assumed it was a specialised book.

Mikado: That's exactly right! It's not originally a book that is supposed to be borrowed that often.

Hm...this is a bit troublesome.

It's quite old, so it's not available in bookstores anymore. The ones from the university library are also reserved by the students who are also taking the same class......

When I found out it was in this library, it made me want to give thanks to the heavens!

A&R: But it's on loan currently......

Mikado: That's right...... this time it's my fault for not making a reservation because I assumed that it would be back soon.

But, it's okay! Just in-case something like this happens, I've picked out some other books that could replace it!

A&R-san, could you please look for 「 The Complete History of Japanese art 」and I'll look for 「 Illustrated History of Western art」

A&R: Understood.

Mikado: Hm... western art history...western art history...

Hm...it's not here?

A&R: It seems that this one is not available either....

Mikado: T...there's no way they've all been wiped out!? Why!? Is there an art history boom happening in Japan!?

A&R: I wonder...?

But, if you don't have a replacement book, it might be a good idea to make a reservation.

Mikado: Ummu....that's right......

Excuse me, I would like to reserve the books written in this memo.

Librarian: Please wait a moment.

Well, it seems all of these books have been extended in borrow time.

Mikado: Utsu....I'm sorry if that person also has a compelling reason to borrow it.....! Please reserve all 3 books for me!

Librarian: Understood. I believe it will be back in a few days, so I will send you an email as soon as it arrives.

Mikado: Thank you very much!

A&R: Will you be able to reach the deadline for your assessment?

Mikado: Yes, if I can receive it in a few days, it won't be a problem.

Well, now that we've finished our business....

We have some time to spare, so let's spend time here for a while.

02 PUBLIC LIBRARY

Mikado: A&R-san, welcome back. Fufu that looks heavy?

A&R: Yes, they all looked interesting so I ended up bringing a few. Mikado-san……what are you reading?

Mikado: It's a SF (science fiction) short story. The dark humour is effective and makes you laugh, it's quite addictive.

A&R: It looks kind of scary, but it seems interesting.

Mikado: A&R-san is yours a picture book?

A&R: Yes. It's a book I read when I was little, so it makes me feel nostalgic… it's been a while since I could take my time reading like this.

Mikado: Fufu, me too. This is a nice way to spend time.

A&R: Huh? Is this a pocket perhaps….

Mikado: Oh! is this where you put your rental card? That brings back memories…!

A&R: Yes. Now all I have to do is read the barcode…… Sometime ago, you would write your name on a card tucked into the back of the book and borrow it like this.

Mikado: Y..yes, you won't find them in public libraries these days… but some schools still use them.

In terms on management, the current method is definitely easier but there are also issues with personal information.

There's something romantic about feeling the presence of someone who's picked up the same book as you♪

A&R: Looking at the number of names written and using it as an indicator of how popular the book is, or you may be surprised to find an unexpected name…

Mikado: Ah I get that! From there it develops into a fantasy romance like a certain anime film, right?

During summer vacation, the protagonist goes to the library to borrow books…when he looks at the cards he notices that the same person's name is written on every single book and before he realises he begins to wonder about that person!

Tunk! I long for bittersweet youth♪

A&R: I'm sure they would fight at first but somehow they end up with a connection to each other…

Mikado: A mysterious enemy organisation appears in front of them! They stand up to save the world!

A&R: Eh?

Mikado: What brought them together after being torn apart by a fierce conflict was the book that they once shared!

A&R: I..is that what you were talking about!?

Mikado: The second half is my own original♪ Quite dramatic, isn't it?

A&R: Ahaha, it felt like the genre had changed…. But Mikado-san if you were to meet such a person, do you think it would develop into love?

Mikado: Fufu, who knows? At the very least I think I would like to become friends.

There is a high possibility that you will have similar hobbies and you will pick up the same books many times in the same place, at the same time……

I really feel like it must be fate.

03 MOONS APARTMENT

Mikado: I'm home~

Momotaro: Welcome back, Mika.

Mikado: Aahh… it's nice and cool in here! I feel revived…!

Momotaro: That's right…

Mikado: Oh? Momotasu, you seem kind of tired, are you?

Momotaro: Aa..the deadline for my university assignment is coming up, and I have to have it finished soon.

Mikado: I see, actually I'm in the same situation. I went to borrow the materials I needed today, but they were all out.

Momotaro: That's unfortunate. Will you be able to meet the deadline?

Mikado: Eeh….somehow. Having said that, I think it would be better for me to think about the flow of it for now.

Is it okay if I work here with you?

Momotaro: Of course. I'll make space for you.

Mikado: Hm? That book… Eh!? Wait what!? This too… and this one!?

Momotaro: What's wrong?

Mikado: Momotasu, are you taking art-related classes!? Is that the assignment you are currently finishing!?

Momotaro: Ah..uhmn.

Mikado: Me too! These are all the books I was trying to borrow!

Momotaro: …..! By any chance did you make a reservation at the library today?

Mikado: That's right! It was probably me!

Momotaro: Is that so……?

Sorry. I was so busy that I wouldn't make any progress on my assignments so I kept asking for extensions…..

I was caught off guard because it's not a book that gets picked up very often.

Now I think about it, you said the other day that you didn't have any of the books that you wanted to borrow. If I had realised then…Mika, I'm really sorry--

Mikado: This is fate!!

Momotaro: Eh?

Mikado: What are the chances that two people who live under the same roof go to the same library separately and ask for the same books!?

And what's more! Even though we are in different universities and majors, we just happened to take the same class and were given an art history assignment!

If the times were different, then romance is just beginning!?

Momotaro: Romance….?

Mikado: I found Momotasu's name on the rental card…this is Tunk! That was the story of how it almost happened! I can't wait to make this into a movie!

Momotaro: A movie…?

Mikado: As I thought, Momotasu and I are best friends who are bound by 「 Fate 」 and 「 Destiny 」.

Ha, would it be that we had a deep connection in our past lives as well…!? If this happens, let's save the world together! Momotasu!

Momotaro: I don't really understand……if Mika wants to do that I'll go along with it, but let's do that later.

For now, why don't we work on the assignment together? Let's share the books.

Mikado: Yes! Let's work together!

★ Mikado uses both 「 Fate 」and 「 Destiny 」 Fate meaning 運命(Unmei) as in a passing chance happening at the right time in the right place. Destiny meaning さだめ(Sadame) as in the future was already pre-planned and set out. So he is basically saying that no matter what, him and Momotasu were meant to be together.

[itmeblog]

So, like, disclaimer: I don't read dark romance. I just don't, it's not really my cup of tea. But I have been listening to the book summaries because they're fucking wild (particularly the ones that are BookTok famous) and my totally half informed take is that

People want to be into BDSM without actually knowing what BDSM is. Cause like... a lot of this is straight up abuse? But with an added desperation for the narrative to prove that the girl is in power in this situation where power is forcibly taken from her. Like, sure, in her mind (usually the character is a woman) she can construct any narrative she wants but the fact of the matter is power in these narratives is often taken and not given (which I guess is what makes it hot??). I'm sure the closest parallel here has something to do with brats but even then it's supposed to be a game, there's contracts and rules and safety protocols. Communication. I suppose what I'm really saying is that a lot of these pieces are power fantasies that remain fantasies even to the MC who is constructing a narrative for a world in which she is, realistically, given no agency and trying to convince herself that letting this dude ravage her is like #feminism which like, go off? I guess?? You could just be a ho though. Like you don't have to monologue to justify yourself.

Most of these narratives would be more interesting if the guy was submissive or a switch and I'm not joking. These characters are dominating both in and out of the bedroom, they like control so they are exerting it over both the narrative and the MC. The MC needs this dude... for whatever reason. Survival? Because she's hopelessly horny? Stockholm syndrome (yes I know this isn't really a real thing but bear with me)? Whatever. The guy likes the MC because she puts up with his bullshit and finds it sexy. But there is the potential for an actual power play here. What if she actually matches his freak? Both characters can be unhinged in more than a "omg am I wrong to find this hot?" sort of way. What if he's a dangerous stalker and she's well aware, but she thinks she can control him and the whole narrative is the play between whether or not she's right. High stakes, she's bonkers for even trying but it's a challenge, he thinks he's a predator and has no idea he's the one being hunted. Then the softness that comes up in quiet conversations would be more natural because he views her as a place where he can let go of earthly burdens, because she's proved she was capable of handling them. He feels she views him as a person and has accepted all of him (like she doesn't have to reality is subjective after all). And then you have the whole "don't touch her or I'll kill you" take a whole new meaning because now you haven't just taken his sex toy, you've taken someone who he confides in, feels comfortable with, is the only person in the world he's ever felt he could set down his burden beside and be vulnerable to, a person he fundamentally feels safe with (but of course you'd need actual characters with depth for this to work) the amount of emotional manipulation this would require alone. There's something to be said about the dichotomy here. I just think the banter would be better at least... and then the toxicity could be fully reciprocated. Like through the power of imagination they can both be victims.

[wullu]

tis been a while but drama watching update!

I dropped Delivery Man. Yoon Chan Seung's cuteness couldnt save it for me in the end. I did read brief recaps so I do know how it ended, but man, talk about wasted potential.

I finished Missing: The Other Side season 1. Heo Joon Ho and the humbled detective man (who lost his fiancee) really hard carried the drama. For me personally that is. Like, it was not a bad drama but I liked it better when it was focusing on helping people (and their loved ones) find solace/moving on. The overarching mystery thing got a little tedious for me after a while. I did enjoy the concept of Duon Village as inbetween spot for spirits and how despite its idyllic nature, it too was not exempt from serpents in its paradise. I might give s2 a try. I do know Heo Joon Ho is back and goddamn (his character had me feeling all the feels, and bawling my eyes out).

Through the Darkness is presently on hold. Despite the allure of soft, somewhat misunderstood Kim Nam Gil, I do not have it in me to stomach slimey cops and murderyness presently. I think I will come back to it later.

Things I'm gonna attempt to watch:

Black Knight - Despite the so-so reviews I have seen of it, my mum has expressed an interest in watching it and I'm gonna grab this opportunity to take my mum down the drama rabbit hole with me, with all my available limbs and teeth if need me.

My Perfect Stranger - It's an alluring admixture of time travel, murder and romance which could be garbage in the end but the siren song of time travel calls to me, so.

[raccoonspooky]

cocaine bear (2023) in ur inbox with the q's

13, 58, and 64!

HELLO MY DARLING!!!! I cant wait to watch that movie like I refuse to pay for it I have to wait till its yo-ho territory haha 🏴‍☠️ ʕง•ᴥ•ʔง

13. what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

Chuck Palahniuk and Neil Gaiman have some awesome advice for writers that I hold very near and dear to my heart.

One thing I try to force myself into remembering from Palahniuk is that you go into a scene already knowing the purpose, if you can’t nail down the purpose of a scene its best left out. If it builds on nothing and offers nothing insightful then you should think about how to make such a scene offer something to your writing. Like work scenes in YOUR favor not force scenes into submission by sheer will.

Gaiman also has a great thing about how if nothing in your story is laughable then whats the point and its so important to laugh at your own jokes and that your readers are smarter than you’d otherwise assume. Putting jokes and asides in a story breathes a lot of life into it and it makes it easier and more engaging for people to read. Even in dreary and dark stories, Gaiman always keeps me fkn hooked just by his strong narrative voice and you can so hear HIM in his writing yknow?

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

My process is so nonsensical and insane. I rarely have an outline. I also have like 4 notebooks near me and on me at all times for random notes. I guess brainstorming??? on account of my ten million wips?

64. Something you love to see in smut.

I already answered this one in another ask! But imma use this as an excuse to expand. One thing I love is like, yucky vile language lol. If its too explicit for even the smuttiest romance book? Thats my FAV.

Also I like being STRONGLY attached to whatever perspective is there I wanna be stapled into it. Like I dont want any dancing around when it comes to whats happening like tell me abt SCHMEATY MEAT and SLOPPY HOLES hahahahah. I want all the nasty nasty thoughts and feelings. SENSORY DETAILS!!!!!

[critical-quoter]

Last Week's Reviews

Only Rivals - Charity Ferrell ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 🍻 Be sure to check the triggers because this one was rough emotionally.

I'm pretty sure I sobbed through 75% of this book. And the actual hate I felt for a particular character was extraordinary. If you take anything away from this, other than the fact that Jax and Amelia were absolutely perfect characters who were absolutely perfect for each other is that having a mental illness does not give you a free pass to be a piece of shit.

For those that care, Jax groveled some. Was it enough for the cruelest things you can ever say to a woman who is grieving for her deceased fiancé? Probably not. But honestly, they were both pretty shitty to each other so it kind of evens out, and Amelia didn't let Jax slide completely so it worked for me.

I loved it. I cried way too much through it. It felt like an emotional cleanser.

Bull Moon Rising - Ruby Dixon ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 🐮 This was truly one of the best romances I've read for the year of 2024. Hawk and Aspeth were such great characters. The world building was pretty well done for a monster romance/romantasy to be honest. I wasn't confused throughout most of the book. The magic system (or lack thereof) was pretty unique. But ho boy, let me gush about how well the characters were written.

Aspeth was as out of touch with the real world as you would expect a sheltered rich man's daughter to be. She wasn't stuck-up or on a high horse, she was just kind of not aware of how messed up the real (fantasy) world really is. Gwenna was a perfect foil to Aspeth as a loyal friend. She didn't overshadow Aspeth but rather both characters were lifted up by being perfected friends for each other.

And Hawk. You know what makes dealing with a bunch of incels who laugh you out of the artifact guild you had your heart and mind set on joining? A giant, hot minotaur cough Taurian, who just needs a woman to rut when the Conquest Moon comes up. Speaking of perfect characters for Aspeth. Hawk was absolute perfect. He was so well written that if I wasn't happily married in a universe that doesn't have minotaurs (as far as I know), I would be hunting down my own for a marriage of convenience, or you know whatever.

I laughed throughout this entire book. There were some parts that were just so hysterical I needed to run to the other room to read them aloud to my very-not-into-romance-novels husband. And now I feel like I've been sleeping on Ruby Dixon and will thus need to binge all of her Ice Planet Barbarians series as well.

Forgotten Vengeance - Andrea Hagan ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 🔫 So here's the deal… this was pretty good. I'd already read another one in this interconnected series so I knew I was going to enjoy the world, I was just not sure on the couple involved when I started. With that being said, Nicky is annoying. Like I started to rate this at 3 stars because I really disliked her. But after sleeping on it a bit and realizing that I read this entire book in one sitting (staying up until 3 AM to finish it), I knew that those details alone warranted another star.

The story flowed well. There wasn't a drag to it at all. Romeo was all in right away and Nicky was brought alone through everything kicking screaming (much to my chagrin.) When the author describes this as a light dark mafia romance, she really nails the description. Romeo is a mafia underboss. He kills people. He does some underhanded stuff to bring Nicky into his life and have her willingly accept the relationship. But there's no real dark romance stuff that makes it super uncomfortable. Obviously, checking the trigger warnings is a must if you are sensitive to certain topics.

I really enjoyed this. I'll definitely be continuing with the series.

If You Loved Me - Brianna Remus ⭐️⭐️ 🧁 I really wanted to like this and to be fair, it started off pretty strong. Sarah was a great character to start. For a 30-year-old virgin (I know, insert eyeball) she wasn't an absolute prude. She just was super focused on building her bakery business and also holding on a little too long to the hope of pleasing her parents. So the virginity made sense, I guess.

But my goodness, her immediate crumpling to her mom's "deal" and demands gave me the ick instantly. She'd rather string a man along (two men, if you consider that when she agreed to date Jones for her mother, she was also interested and dating Ranger) than admit that her parents were not going to approve of her bakery. And it was such a half-assed effort in writing.

I also wanted to like Ranger. And I did for the most part. But for a guy that spent 10 years in prison for beating the shit out of someone and is now determined not to go back, he sure has no problems assaulting other men who act like drunk men around Sarah. Keep your hands to yourself, Ranger. Did you not learn the first time?

It was just meh. Insta-love, insta-lust. No real relationship building. No trust building. Half-assed characters. Just ugh.

Garnet Flats - Devney Perry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 🩺 Dangit, I love this series. I didn't read the synopsis before jumping into this one. I knew it would be a hit and wanted to go in blind. And you know what? Bless Past Me for that.

Talia was just the best. Her emotional status made total sense when you took into account how badly Foster had hurt her. Why let yourself be vulnerable with anyone when the last time you were, the man stomped all over you? Foster had his reasons but Talia deserved the apologies and the begging. She deserved to be mad and Perry wrote it perfectly.

Don't get me wrong either. I am not bashing Foster. He's a good man, Savannah. He just royally messed up. Like super bad and then kept messing up for the sake of keeping Talia out of it. The apologies, the begging, the explanation… I'll allow the forgiveness.

It was just good, angst romance. I thought I was sick of small town romances but Perry reminded me that small town doesn't need to feel small.

Pretty Monster - Sheridan Anne ⭐️⭐️ 😈 So this could have been really good. And it was pretty decent up until about 75% of the way through. I really felt like I was being gaslit the entire time I was reading, trying to figure out if who I suspected was Reid was correct or if there was actually a 4th guy that was obsessed with Kyah. 

Imagine my disappointment that upon discovery of Reid's identity, it becomes infinitely more blah after that. It was just so lackluster. And after Kyah figures it out, it was like every character had a personality transplant. Nothing they did made sense, if they even did anything at all. I honestly have no other words beyond blah.

Moonlight Drive - A. R. Hadley ⭐️⭐️⭐️ 🎸 Insert yikes face emoji here.

This read like a coked out stream of consciousness which I guess suits the story since Nick (or Nicki) was a coked out drunk that treated everyone, especially Dani, like absolute garbage. None of these characters were likable. Even when they started showing growth, the damage had been done. There was rampant cheating (with both of them) and heavy drug use (by Nick) and it honestly got to the point that I only wished ill upon these characters.

Jim was the only regular cast member that was worth anything.

Hateful Games - Simran ⭐️⭐️⭐️ 💍 I did enjoy this. I just wanted to enjoy it more. Honestly, Rosalie being so hung up on hating Nova and Nova being an absolute POS was what lowered the rating for me. 800 pages? Enemies to lovers took 800 pages and they were married for 600 pages of it? Lord have mercy.

It could have been so much better. But honestly, Rosalie should have groveled just as much as Nova did. Both of them were terrible to each other and just the relationship's dynamic took me out of rooting for them.

Simran's writing is fantastic. At no point was I taken out of the story by mediocre or poor writing. I felt myself become immersed within the world. The problem was, as I sank into the world of Arranged Games, I kept finding myself whispering to these characters, "Find someone nicer. My god."

The Poorly Made and Other Things - Sam Rebelein ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 🏚️ ARC review separate

The Good Boy - Stella Hayward ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 🐕 ARC review separate

Inside Job - Alexis Knightly ⭐️⭐️ 👠 This was okay. Not great, but it was readable. Nothing was really explained. Nothing made any real sense. Damien and Hannah made no real sense together, even their chemistry was non-existent. Honestly, I'm pretty sure the reviews that are rating this highly are those that are just reading for the smut, which to each their own, but keep that in mind before you jump in.

[houseofhollows]

august

pairing: theo nott x reader

genre: fluff?

notes: i’m so used to writing angst that i don’t even know what genre this is. fluff? romance? something of the sort.

Summer was always too short. It seemed that it only lasted a couple of months out of the whole year, while the rest of the year was filled with cold, windy, rainy days. Of course, Y/N loves those sorts of days; while studying in the Hogwarts library, the only light being from the candles or the too-yellow lamps, the rain falling down the window in a hurry. Despite her admiration for gloomy days, she just wished summer lasted a little bit longer. 

The sun was brighter than it had been all summer, promising a beautiful day. It had rained the night before, and so the earthy smell of the grass was wafting through the open window. The air from outside blew Y/N’s hair in a gentle way, a caress of the wind. The bay window had always been her favorite place to sit. It had a view of the garden, where lush trees and fully bloomed flower bushes stood. She would sit at that window and either admire the planet she got to call home or she would curl up under a blanket and spend her days reading. 

Today, though, her friends were coming over. It had been a while since they all got to be together; strict parents or family vacations always had people busy. But there was only one week before they all had to go back to Hogwarts, so what better way to spend the end of summer than with your friends?

Below her window, Y/N saw her best friend, Pansy, waving her arms above her head, shouting for her to come down. She smiled at her goofiness and headed to the garden.

“Blimey, swear I’ve been doing that for hours. How didn’t you hear me?” Pansy gasped.

“Sorry, I was thinking,” Y/N replied.

“Clearly. You think way too much by the way. All the time. You never stop.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Y/N challenged.

“Just distracts you is all,” Theo interjected. It had been a couple of months since they last saw each other and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he had gotten prettier. 

“It does not. If anything distracts me it’s you or Pansy.”

“Oh? I distract you. Am I just that handsome?” Theo replied, a smirk growing on his lips.

Yes, she wanted to reply. 

“You wish,” she said instead. 

Theo licked his lips. 

“Will you two stop flirting? I’d like to go down to the lake,” Pansy rolled her eyes.

Y/N looked away from Theo and began to follow Pansy towards the lake. 

– 

The quiet lake sat nestled in the forest beyond Y/N’s house. The water was clear, and the reflections of the trees could be seen in the dark water. There was a small wooden deck from which you could jump. 

Pansy and Blaise were quick to remove their clothes, excited to relieve themselves from the summer heat. Draco was mumbling something about them being too childish, but he too undressed.  

Y/N laid out a large green and white plaid blanket onto the ground and sat down. Theo sat down beside her. The damp grass smelled sweet. The wind blew a gentle breeze and the sound of the leaves rustling sent her into a state of calm. Her white sundress billowed up her thighs and she was quick to push it back down, oblivious to Theo’s gaze on her legs. 

“Are you two losers getting in or what?” Pansy yelled from the water.

“I’m good for now, Pans. Maybe later,” Y/N replied. “What about you, Teddy?”

“I think I’ll stay here with you for a while.”

The two looked at each for a moment, their gazes darting from mouth to eyes. Y/N looked away before she got too entranced. Theo always had that effect on her. His beauty never failed to make her eyes linger. 

Pansy and Blaise were embracing each other in the water, Blaise’s lips lingering on Pansy’s forehead. Y/N felt envious when she saw her friends together. The two had been in love since the very beginning, and their feelings had always been obvious; not just to those around them but to each other. It hadn’t been hard for them to admit their love because they had always just known. It was different with Theo, however.

Ever since Year 3, Y/N could not stop falling in love with him. It wasn’t just his looks, but his calming voice, his carefulness, his love for those around him. Everything about him was a reason for her to love him. But there was no way he could love her back. 

Needing a distraction, she removed her dress and began to make her way to the lake. 

“Finally,” Draco said.

“Oh, be quiet,” she replied.

“Come on, Theodore. Don’t be a loner.”

He finally obliged and soon enough, all five of them were splashing each other, Blaise pushing Draco underwater.

– 

The time had passed quickly and the sun was beginning to set. Theo and Y/N lay together in the field of grass, shoulder and thigh touching lightly. Pansy sat in Blaise’s lap beneath a tree, the two whispering to each other and giggling. Theo’s hand had moved towards hers and she felt her heart begin to beat. His fingers brushed over her own until they were entwined. To feel him against her, to be holding his hand. She had always wanted to stretch out her hand and touch the warmth of his skin. She felt herself yearning for more. She wanted his hand to touch her cheek, her waist, her hips. It hurt to know she couldn’t have that. 

Y/N removed her hand from his and turned to lay on her side. It was rude of her, she knew that, but she couldn’t bear the pain of that longing, that feeling of desire. It was too much.

“Are you okay,” Theo whispered to her, leaning on his elbow. His face was right about her ear, and his breathy voice only had her feeling more.

“Never better,” she replied, trying to keep her tone neutral. 

“Come on, Y/N/N, I know you. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, Theo. Stop.”

She rarely ever called him Theo, and she knew immediately that she had said the wrong thing. 

“I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me, you know that.”

“Guess you’re going to have to bother me forever, then.”

“Is this about me holding your hand? Did I cross a boundary? I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to, I swear.”

Her chest suddenly ached. That’s not what she wanted at all. 

She sighed and turned herself around until they were face to face. 

“No, it’s not that,” she whispered, looking into his eyes.

“Okay, so what is it?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“No, not this, Teddy,” she smiled sadly. 

“I don’t understand,” he frowned in response.

She gulped.

“You remember that time you asked me what love was?”

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t respond then, but I have an answer now.”

“And what is it?”

“Love is something that we take with us wherever we go. We take it into the next world and carry it from one life to the next. And I believe that everyone has a certain person that they belong with in every life; whether they find that person or not, whether the person they are with in this life is truly the one for them. And sometimes I hope that the one I love is really the one for me.”

Theo was silent for a moment before he replied, “And who do you love?”

Y/N hesitated. She had already said too much. 

“You, Theo. I’ve only ever loved you.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’ve only ever loved you, too,” he smirked. 

Y/N let out a sigh of relief and tipped her head back. 

“Merlin, I thought I had fucked up,” she laughed. 

Theo’s hand found its way to her cheek, his soft fingers caressing her jaw. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time,” he said. He kissed her cheek slowly, wanting to relish the first moments of confession. It was true; ever said that night he looked into her eyes for the first, he had been addicted to her. 

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her eyes slowly closing. 

He did as he was told. 

It was her first kiss. And it felt different than what everyone had described. People had said it would be wet, quick, awkward. But this felt like fire was erupting within her bones. Like everything around her had slowed to make that moment perfect.

[tsintotwo]

[If you, as a regular human woman, ever were to meet Morpheus in the real world, it could go something like this...

(Wrote earlier but not posted on tumblr before. Thought I would ‘cause why not.)]

‘…which obviously means he was always meant to acquire the stone, from the very moment he was born!’

‘Oh, you, you are all alike! You would do Olympic-level mental gymnastics to draw connections that just aren’t there! Just admit it- your darling author resorted to good old deux-ex-machina to resolve the biggest conflict in his biggest series.’

‘Oh, oh, PUH-LEASE…’

‘Excuse me’, I say, trying to move past the two arguing men. It’s hard, considering they’re both very, uh, physical talkers. Hands are wildly gesticulating, feet are stomping, spittle is flying. Worse- they’re starting to draw a small crowd. No doubt others will start pitching in soon. Then it will become a real shitshow. I sigh. This argument is as old as the popularity of the series, and yet it never stops getting chewed on. This is the downside of coming to these things.

The hotel, while not exactly seedy, is just the bare minimum necessary to hold meetups like this. The hall room is small, the carpet just a step above from threadbare, the chairs uncomfortable, the aircon barely works and when it does it is loud. None of that bothers me when the evening goes nicely though. But tonight’s meetup wasn’t great. The discussion was boring. The two short stories that were read didn’t hold my attention. No one was wearing any interesting costume. The only good thing was the artwork display, and that took only about ten minutes to look at.

I finally get past the arguing crowd and walk towards the flash bar that has been set up along the far wall. That’s going to have to be the other good thing tonight. I shake my head as I go, using the movement of my neck and my hands to bring my hair over my shoulder to one side. As nice as I know the thick waves looked flowing down my back, it’s just too hot in here now. The air on my neck feels wonderful. I walk, snippets of thoughts occurring to me, as they do- the argument hasn’t gotten loud yet, but give it time, that’s just what we need, getting banned from another hotel… this dress was DIY, but it still looks good, right? I think?... what will I order at the bar? Hmm… something has shifted.

My feet slow. ‘Something has shifted?’ What has shifted? Even as I think it, I realize I feel a change in the air. Something. I can’t put my finger on it. Is it the temperature? A new smell? I wonder, and that’s when I see him.

He is sitting on a stool at the bar, looking like every young-adult-romance-novel-emo-boy trope I’d ever read back in the day. Dressed in all black, shoulders hunched in a brood, a moody air around him. I didn’t think in real life people actually thought someone’s hair was ‘as dark as the night’ or their cheekbones were ‘as sharp as knives’, but these occur to me nonetheless as I reach the bar and get a look at his face. Yikes, I may have internalized more of those books that I thought.

I pull up a stool and sit- not exactly next to him, but near. There is no one else between us. But he doesn’t look at me.

‘Hey, Jake’, I smile at the bartender. It’s always his company that brings the portable bar to these meetups, and I’ve met him a few times before.

He smiles back, ‘Hey. What will it be?’

‘Hmm’, I frown, not having decided on anything yet. Then I shrug, and say, ‘Surprise me.’

He nods, ‘I will.’, He looks at the black-clad guy next to me. ‘You?’

He starts to shake his head, then pauses. Then he sits up a little straighter, and says, ‘Surprise me as well.’

Now I sit up a little straighter. Ho-ly-FUCK. That voice. Okay, I know I was thinking ridiculous things about his looks, phrases from cheesy novels getting stuck in my head and whatnot, and I can laugh it off. But his voice- there’s no joke here. It’s insanely… rich. Smokey. With a hint of a rough edge. But still smooth. Like folds of black velvet.

I have this weird thing. When I experience something beautiful- be it art, music, literature, good weather, a voice- I feel like I want to taste it. It’s a yearning, almost. Like my mouth, my tongue wants to feel whatever the other senses are feeling. Yeah, it’s weird. But I’m getting that now. The yearning to taste his voice, in my mouth. But you can’t taste a voice.

You can kiss him, though. That might be something close.

Whoa. WHOA, WHOAAAA! I shake myself slightly. Okay, I need to snap out of whatever this is.

Jake brings me my drink. It’s a light amber color. I take a careful sip. Delicious.

‘Wow.’, I ask Jake, ‘What is it?’

He puts his forefinger on his lips, ‘Knowing too much ruins the surprise, don’t you think?’

I laugh, ‘Yeah. Thanks, anyway. This is great.’

He nods and walks away, leaving me alone with Mr. Broody. I watch him take a small sip of his drink. His face shows nothing- no reaction. He sets down the glass.

Is he going to leave?

‘Not surprised?’, I ask, before I can stop myself. I just want to hear that voice again, I realize.

He looks at me, and this beat of my heart is a thud. Deep blue eyes- not of the sky, but of the bottomless ocean. Clear, sharp, intense- they leave me flustered enough that I feel stupid. Come on, I tell myself, he just looked at you. Stop having reactions to that!

To answer my question, he gives a small shake of his head. ‘No.’

‘Ouch’, I glance over to see if Jake was around to hear that.

He follows my eyes, then says, ‘It is not his fault. I know how he thinks. He could not have surprised me.’

‘You do?’, I frown, looking at him. ‘Do you know Jake?’

‘After a fashion.’ He eyes me. ‘You are dressed unusually for this time period.’ His eyes sweep over the room. Men and women in fantasy, horror, sci-fi costumes milling around, talking, lounging in chairs. In the middle of the argument crowd, someone seems to be giving a speech. ‘Everyone is dressed unusually.’ He looks at me again, ‘What is this place?’

‘I’… I was going to answer, but the full intensity of his stare makes me stumble over my word. This man really is striking, and it’s not just because he has a nice face or gorgeous eyes or good bone structure or whatever. He is deathly pale. His raven-black hair is just a little too wild to be considered artfully mussy. His face is lean and smooth, no lines showing history of a lived time. But still his heavy-lidded blue eyes are alive with a quiet power. Among all this, the soft, pouty lips are unexpected somehow. The whole effect is one of agelessness, as if he exists outside of time. I couldn’t tell if the guy was twenty or thirty or forty or even fifty.

I clear my throat, ‘This, uhm. This is, like, a nerd meetup. You didn’t know? Are you a guest at the hotel?’ I stop myself from saying, ‘You’re not supposed to be here if you are.’, because I… I don’t want him to go. Not yet.

‘A ‘nerd meetup’?’, he says the words slowly, as if unfamiliar with them. ‘What is that?’

I laugh. ‘Like-minded people meet monthly to talk about the nerdy stuff they love. Comic and sci-fi, classic lit and modern fantasies, mythologies and movies. There are discussions, readings, you can display your artwork, sell it even, if you’re good. Trade merch.’

‘Merch?’

‘Merchandise.’ I cock my head, ‘Doesn’t seem to be your crowd, eh? How did you end up here?’

‘Ancient tales are alive here tonight. I felt the pull.’

I stare at him. Doesn’t look like he’s joking. Does he really talk like this? ‘And?’, I ask.

‘And, I have been observing recently. Observing. Mingling.’, he looks like this word leaves a slightly unpleasant taste in his mouth, ‘Learning. I have… I have yet to learn some things. Or re-learn. Remind myself.’

Ooooookay.

So, at these meetups, you meet all sorts. Some of us here have a fuller life outside of our love for this stuff, but others are more immersed. They love fantasies, and they live their lives as if they are in fantasies- closet full of robes and head full of dreamscapes where they are the hero. There are others who come here to escape life. As soon as they’ve walked in here, they’re playing a role, being someone they could never be in the outside world. And still there are others who are just pretentious, desperate to prove themselves different.

Thing is, this man seems like none of the above. There is a particular way he speaks- very precise and deliberate, and it doesn’t sound fake. It sounds… powerful somehow. Powerful, and inevitable. Like he was meant to say these exact words at this exact moment, and it had been decided before even the universe was born.

I take a sip of my drink. I’m not sure if I should be talking to this man anymore. I mean, maybe I only think all these things about his eternal-type quality because he’s sexy (Yeah, he is. I have to admit that to myself). Maybe if this was a sweaty middle-aged guy with a balding head in a thigh-length toga, I would be walking away right now, deciding that he’s insane. But I can’t shake what I feel, that there’s something about this man. And I’m intrigued.

I’m about to introduce myself when he says, ‘Who are you?’ He has slightly angled his body towards me, and I am distracted for a moment by the pale, smooth sliver of his throat between the high coat collars. That yearning in my mouth, my tongue, again.

Blinking, I open my mouth to tell him my name, then realize he’s eyeing my flowy white dress slashed semi-daringly at the thighs, my tiara and waistband made in an intricate gold leaves-and-branches pattern, my golden boots.

‘I’m supposed to be Athene’, I say, ‘The Greek goddess of war strategy and wisdom? I guess you can’t really tell without the props.’ I gesture to the general direction of the chair I was sitting on earlier, where I’d set down the spear and the shield with an etched owl on it. ‘But they’re too clunky to carry around all evening.’

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a small smile as he takes in my look. ‘I believe she would be… amused by your rendition.’

Amused? It stings a little bit. ‘Why?’, I ask.

A very slight shrug of one slim shoulder, ‘Just humankinds’ ability to see one story, one character, in a thousand of ways, throughout centuries.’

Huh. That’s an interesting way of looking at it, actually.

‘Who are you?’, I ask.

‘I am Dream.’, he says simply.

I stare. ‘Is that your name?’

‘Yes.’

I mean, okay, I guess? Names are names, and I know a girl called Envy, a boy called Trigger, and my friend who is a kindergarten teacher just told me the other day there are not one, but two Daenerys’ in her class, so who am I to question anything?

‘Nice to meet you’ is what I’m about to say, but his attention has shifted. The crowd has finally broken into the loud argument I was fearing. The voices are rising and so is the frustration- it doesn’t seem like anyone can even tell what the others are saying anymore. A couple of people are trying to break it off, but most who are not taking part are just standing around and watching.

‘Why do human beings get so attached?’, Dream asks. It sounds like a rhetorical question that was not asked to me, but I answer anyway- ‘That’s what makes us human, don’t you think?’

He turns to me. ‘I understand that. Human society could not function without attachment to each other. But this-‘ he gestures, ‘attachment to stories? Stories are mirrors for humans to see themselves. To get this attached is so… narcissistic. Do you not see that?’

His blue gaze bores into mine, and my throat dries. This is the first time he has said so many sentences in one go. He is quiet now, but the deep voice still feels coiled in the air around us, making it thrum with an unknown energy. I can tell when a man is interested in me like most women can, and I can also tell Dream is not, not that way, not right now. He is not trying anything, he’s just talking. But this man… this man can’t ‘just talk’, I realize. He is not capable of that. Every time he looks at me it feels like he’s seeing me more intimately that any other person ever has, every word he speaks to me feels seductive.

I swallow, then try to answer his question, to match his eloquence. ‘Yes, I suppose you could say that. But stories are not just mirrors. They’re umbrellas, too. Or blankets.’ Jake reappears, and I am thankful. ‘Can I have some water?’ I ask him. He brings me a glass, and I take a long drink.

Dream is looking at me. ‘Explain’, he says. It sounds like a command in a strange way. I can imagine feeling patronized if this was any other person here. But with him, it fits seamlessly. Feels inevitable. And I oblige.

‘We relate to stories, yes. We want to see ourselves in them. But don’t you see, we also want to see everyone else? Stories and ideas are bigger than one person, one human individual. They bring us together. And I’m not even talking about religions, and institutions, and such- that these systems work just because everyone has subscribed to believing in them, these ideas about God existing and money being valuable and whatnot. I’m talking about feelings.’

‘Feelings?’ Dream asks, and this time I almost don’t get distracted by him, having found my footing in the conversation. The argument in the room can be no longer called that, it’s pretty much a group of people fighting now. At least it seems like things haven’t gotten physical yet, but it is loud. I don’t want to keep shouting over it, so I hop off my stool, pull it closer to Dream, and hop on again. Maybe I didn’t need to be this close. Maybe I don’t care.

‘You know, I went to see a very popular film last year, very hyped. I wasn’t into it, had never been into that fandom, but I did go with my friends. It was the finale of the franchise, lots of excitement, and I was just like, ‘Eh, I don’t get it, these films are not that good.’ But then I sat in the cinema and saw the film, but I also felt the other people in there, you know? The gasps, the laughs, the groans and yells in tandem. The excited breathing of the girl beside me, the scream of the man in front of me. I went into this as a grumbly cynic, but by the time the final battle on the screen rolled around, with music swelling in the dark hall, everyone rooting for the Good Guys, I was one of them, every one person who came to see this story unfold. I felt one with them. It really was no longer about just the film. It was a human experience, sharing something bigger, feeling something bigger, being part of something larger, together. The story was a fake fantasy, but the feelings were real.’

I stop, gulping in some more water. Huh, that got way more elaborate than I thought it would. But I still want to finish making my point. ‘We exited the cinema hall, and these strangers who watched the film with me, they felt like less than strangers. The tears I saw as I walked away, the laughter, the excited babbling, and the heated complaints. All of that I related to. I felt a kinship to my fellow humans. And I went home a little happier, with a heart a little fuller. That’s what stories are about. That’s what gets us attached.’

Dream is quiet, looking at me. I really did pull too close. Our knees are almost touching. But the subtle change I feel in the air between us is not because of that. I feel like he’s looking at me now, for the first time. Not just a person who sat down beside him and started talking tonight. Me.

It can’t have been for more than a few seconds we made direct, unwavering eye contact, but it feels longer. And it does something to me. Traces of an electric hum in my nerves, a heaviness in my breathing, a pull like gravity in my heart. I feel part of another world suddenly, like I’m not even here, in this hotel, in this room, in my ridiculous white dress and golden boots, with men and women shouting just twelve feet away. I feel like I’m with Dream, and that’s where the matter begins, and that’s where the matter ends.

What is happening to me?

Dream says, ‘I have always known about stories. They form part of my realm. But this is…’, he nods slightly, as if acknowledging some contribution I made, ‘something to think about.’

‘Realm?’, my voice sounds to weak to me, ‘Is that, like, your formal synonym for 'expertise' or something?’

He doesn’t answer. It looks like he has settled down to think immediately, looking at the fake-wood bar counter, small lines on his forehead, dark brows furrowed. There's something lonely about the way of it all, something just a tiny bit sad and lost. I feel an unexpected surge of affection for him. 

Someone from the hotel has finally arrived, thank God. The man looks small and harried, but he apparently knows how to exert his authority because I see the fight beginning to break up. The bar is about to get crowded, no doubt.

I look at Dream. He hasn’t dressed polished, talked smooth, or done anything remotely edgy, but he feels incredibly sexy, and dangerous. Normally, I am not attracted to that- the dangerous part anyway. And I’m way more wary with strangers. But he doesn’t fall into a type, he’s not anything anyone could’ve planned for. I just know these things, just as I know what the warmth in my heart, the knot gathering low in my abdomen mean. My palm tingles as I imagine running it over his smooth cheek, sharp jaw, pressing onto his swollen bottom lip with my thumb. I imagine tracing my fingers on his throat, touching my lips on the soft flesh there. I feel my breath catch.

Oh, God. That got real intense real fast.

I don’t have anyone permanent in my life right now, but I date. I know my way around the scene. I know how to talk to a guy, how to build that chemistry if the seed is there. And if this was just any guy, I might have made a move. Lean in more, touch his arm, chew on my full lips as I listened to him. But I don’t even consider any of it. Even his aloof air aside, this is not just any guy, and I know I can do none of those superficial things with him and expect him to respond. A yearning blooms inside my chest, almost instantly morphing into something painful.

I want him, and badly.

More people are sitting down at the bar. I hear chattering all around. I know quite a lot of people who are here right now, and soon anyone might walk up and start a chat. I don’t want that. I want to be with Dream.

‘Do you want to get out of here?’, I ask him.

This is a stranger, I tell myself. You know nothing about him. What are you doing?

Dream turns his head towards me, ‘Yes.’ He stands up. ‘You have made your argument, but I have found the flaw in it. Nonetheless, it has been an interesting conversation, and made me contemplate. Thank you.’

He begins to walk away.

My jaw drops.

What?

‘Wait!’, I call, my voice just a little strangled. ‘What flaw? And,’ my eyes fall on his unfinished drink, ‘what, you aren’t even going to pay for that?’

He stops and looks at the drink, frowning. ‘Money?’

‘Yes, money!’, I say, incredulous. ‘And you were really just going to walk away and not tell me what you mean by quote unquote ‘the flaw in my argument’?’ I hop off my stool, pull out some cash from the small golden purse attached to my belt, and set it on the counter. ‘Okay, the drink is on me. The explanation on you.’ I meet his eyes, one hand on my waist, challenging him to leave, willing him not to.

He doesn’t take any more steps, so I go collect my props, and stand in front of him. ‘Okay, where are we going?’

‘We’, he says, ‘are not going anywhere…’, he trails off. He’s checking me out, I realize with a small jolt. We were both sitting down or moving until now, this is the first time we’re standing to our full heights before each other. And just as I take in his slender frame, lithe limbs and how strangely imposing he is despite not being very big or very tall, I feel him glancing over my face, my exposed collarbones, narrow waist (well, narrow-ish), and long (sigh, -ish) legs. It doesn’t make me feel icky, the way he does it. Just appreciated. And I can tell he’s not fixating on my body parts. He’s taking in the whole effect.

I can also tell that it pleases him somehow.

‘Why did you choose Athene?’, he asks me.

‘She seemed badass.’

He frowns. ‘What does that mean?’

It really sounds like he doesn’t know what ‘badass’ means, but I try not to take it literally. ‘You know, smart, hands-on or hands-off at exactly the right times, fearless. Never bothering with drama, or men.’

That hint of a smile again, slightly mocking now. ‘You do not bother with men?’

Oh, shit. We’re doing this now? Right here? We’re in the middle of the hotel hall room. There are people all around. Strangely, though, no one seems to notice him, or by extension, me.

So be it. I close the gap between us until my breasts are almost touching his chest.

‘Sometimes they’re worth it.’, I say.

Dream doesn’t move, and I feel my heartrate spike. Not taking my eyes off his, I let go of the Athene shield in my right hand, letting it fall on the carpet. Then I reach out and lightly brush his hand with my fingers.

So far this evening, nothing I've said or done has had any visible effect on him. But this immediately does. His eyelids flicker, and I can hear his faint intake of a sharper breath. I move my thumb to his wrist, brushing gently. This- just touching, but it's electric for both of us. I feel the charge with my whole body, and I can see that he feels it too. For the first time, there's tension in him- the kind I’ve been feeling. His eyes darken, lips parting slightly. For an insane millisecond, I think I would give my life to taste those lips.

Dream's eyes close for a moment, giving me a breathtaking view of thick, dark eyelashes over pale skin. Then he opens them, and takes a couple of steps back. He looks mad, and slightly confused.

‘This has continued for more than is advisable. I must leave.’

He turns around and walks away. Impossibly, I hear him murmur something like 'a human woman...' as he goes. My jaw hangs open. What? What has continued? Whose advise? I’ve met moody people, even bipolar people, but this is on a whole different level. What’s worse, I instinctively know that he’s not playing games or being difficult on purpose. He’s actually torn.

Which is why I do what I wouldn’t do for a random man playing hard to get- I decide to chase after him. This feels bigger than me, bigger than just an everyday chance encounter. And I want to see it through.

But by the time I pick up my shield and look up, he has disappeared. I run out of the hall, look around. He’s nowhere to be seen. This is not my first time in this hotel, and I know there is a side door from the hall leading to a back alley. He seemed headed that way, so that’s where I go too.

The cool night air is a shock on my exposed neck and arms, but I don’t pay attention. Looking both ways in the alley, taking a few steps in both directions, I can’t see Dream. It feels like a physical blow, this absence. ‘Dream!’ I call, half desperate, ‘Are you here?’

‘Why did you come after me?’, he says right behind my ear, and I jump, whirling around.

‘Where the hell did you come from?’

‘Not Hell', he says, deadpan. ‘What do you want?’

Seriously, where did he pop up from like that? I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, to practice some semblance of control in this bewildering situation.

‘I want to know’, I say, ‘what the flaw in my argument is.’

‘Do you.’ It’s a comment, not a question.

‘Yes’, I square my shoulders, surprised at the undercurrent of antagonism in his words.

‘Listen, then.’ He is close to me, his eyes look hooded and dark in the dim orange glow of the single hotel bulb outside the door, only two pupils glinting. ‘Humans would hide behind stories, and let everything fall to ruin. You talk of sharing a bigger thing, sharing experiences, but you do not, do you? Share? Your people go hungry, thirsty, get killed, go through planet-level crisis, but do you come together? Show compassion? Lift each other? No. Everything burns, and you bury your face in the sand, obsessing over made-up worlds, seeking connections through there. You cannot connect with each other where it matters, where it is honest, necessary. You want to see other people in stories, but they only matter when it makes you feel good, and no more past that. That is the flaw. Stories are blankets, but not to gather you together, but for you to hide under there.’

A minute ago, I could not imagine this getting so brutal. But it just did, and I am speechless. What do you say to that?

He moves slightly. I know he is about to do it again- walk away- and I feel a sudden spike of anger. ‘That’s not fair.’ I say, setting my props down near my feet.

‘What isn’t?’, he sounds bored.

‘Everything you just said. You… you would have humans, like, all of humanity, being picture perfect, would you? I perfectly harmonious collective organism, or whatever? Well, guess what? It’s not possible. That’s not how we evolved. We multiplied fast, spreading all over the earth, and for so long we didn’t know what we were doing, maybe we still don’t know. There is good, and there is bad. There will always be mistakes, violence, evil. But you can’t judge us only on that scale. Did you look around today? All these people came to talk about stories they love. In doing so, they made each other happy. Made this evening mean something. They’re not talking about their dead father, abusive partner, son in a war, lost dog in there, but when they deal with those things, this extra bit of meaning, of happiness, will help. They’re not solving for world peace, but every single soul in there might have a lighter heart after sharing whatever they came to share today.’

I stop, realizing I raised my voice quite a bit. Dream is looking at me intently.

‘You were passionate.’, he notes, not saying I was right. But I can also hear a hint of respect in his voice.

‘No shit.’, I give out a half-laugh, absorbing the unreality of this situation. Me in a dark downtown alley, standing with a stranger who’s got me heated in every sense of the word, defending humankind, of all things. ‘You never felt this?’

‘What?’, he asks.

‘The connection? Forget stories, you never sat down with a friend and had an honest conversation that makes you feel like even though nothing is solved, everything might just turn out okay?’

He hesitates. ‘I suppose I have. Had conversations with a friend.’

‘What did you think then?’

‘I thought... I thought if you appreciate it, life will be endlessly giving to a human.’

‘Exactly! And it’s in the small things that it gives. You don’t always have to beeline to the large-scale-disaster-species aspect of us.’

He sighs softly. ‘Maybe’. Then something occurs to him, and he says, ‘But honest conversations, even in small scales, are rarer, as I understand.’

He’s not wrong about that. Everywhere I see people getting more cynical, and isolated, and divided. I can’t argue with that, and I don’t. Instead, I say, ‘I haven’t spoken to my mother in a decade.’

I register the surprise on his face. He didn’t expect me to spit out personal information just to prove a point. But that’s not what I am doing, not really.

‘She is an alcoholic. She was passed out on the couch when my father had his heart attack upstairs, calling for her, for help. He died. She drank more. I didn’t even exist. I guess I still don’t. She’s never reached out. Not that I want her to.’

I swallow. ‘I don’t have money. Had to put myself through hell to finish my degree- three part-time jobs and schoolwork... I’m almost done. You’d think maybe Literature, from all my talk about stories, but Business, actually. I am good at it. But I don’t particularly like it. I don’t know what I will do, what I really want. I have to decide on something soon, because I’m still barely making ends meet, loans aside. For this dress, I pretty much cut-and-pasted a thrift store bedsheet together, can you believe that? And I still feel guilty about the money I splurged on renting the props. A splurge for me anyway. But it makes me happy, dressing up.’ I laugh under my breath. ‘I have friends, but I don’t know if we’re going to be friends five years from now. Everyone and everything in my life has been so… temporary.’

I take a step towards Dream, take one of his hands between two of mine. He goes slightly rigid, looking at me touching him, palms on palms, fingers entangled. I see something in him then, a startling and rare flash of vulnerability, from this man who looks so incapable of it. It gives me the courage to go on. 

‘Listen.’, I say evenly. ‘I don’t know who you are, where you came from. And you don’t need to know any of those things about me. But you talked about honest conversations, and you are right, we don’t have them too much. We don’t say what we feel. But then sometimes you meet someone, someone rare, and suddenly you want to. You want to open up. So, I am.’ I take a deep breath. ‘When I first saw you tonight, I felt intrigued. You are mesmerizing, the whole of you. Maybe you have this effect on everyone, I don’t know. But I have never felt this way before. And now, a couple hours later, I feel more.’ I edge closer to him. ‘You make me want to know you. Make me see images in my head, like a… a dream, but sharp and vivid. Thunder, lightning, wind, rain, storm outside, warmth and flickering flames inside. Shadows dancing on the wall, the smell of the hardwood floor. Uh..us on the fireside. Silk sheets. Tangled limbs.’

I hear my own voice, and I can’t believe it, the things I am saying. All of it is absolutely insane. All of it is absolutely true.

Dream is still like a statue before me, and in his eyes, in his face, I see- Longing? Confusion? Regret? It’s all in a flicker, there and gone. He takes an audible breath, shuddering slightly- the most visceral he has been the whole evening. It's like he’s pushing something deep down. He pulls his hand away, and takes a step back. 

‘This’, his voice, wrapped in its rich timbre, is low and just a bit hoarse, and it sends shivers down my spine, ‘is admirable of you. You have been very honest. And you have surprised me.’ It sounds like he’s not just believed me, he actually knows that I have been honest. ‘For this, I will…’

I can’t take it anymore. I know what I want, and I’m not someone who waits for things to happen to them. So, I walk up to Dream, pull him by the collars of his coat, and kiss him.

I immediately feel his shock. His whole body stiffens, his hands jerking up in surprise. I take his lips between mine, a groan getting stuck in the back of my throat- impossibly, they’re even softer than they look. I suck on them, trace my tongue over them, one of my hands around his shoulder, the other finding its way into his hair. His lips part just slightly, and I kiss each of those in turn- brushing, tasting, biting. I feel one of his hands round my waist now- loose, yet not letting go. I snake my arm tighter around his neck, and move my wet mouth along his jaw. His head falls back slightly. I trace kisses along his throat. When I bite there, I feel his body shiver in my arms. One small reaction, but it drives me crazier than it has any right to do. My lips are brushing up on his cheek, all the way up to his ear, and clutching the hair on the back of his head in my fist, trying to catch my breath, I half-gasp his name- 'Dream...' Like a call, like a secret, like a prayer. 

And he loses control. 

I feel his hand snaking stronger around my waist, the other one drowning in my hair as he pulls my mouth back to his, kissing me with a sudden desperate hunger that makes fireworks explode on all my nerve endings. I gasp, slipping my hands under his coat. His chest is smooth, hard and sinewy, and one of my palms find its way under the t-shirt, touching, exploring, going to his back. His mouth devours mine, then goes all over my cheeks, chin, jaw, as if trying to taste every inch of skin. I feel like I'm melting, disintegrating, yet I am acutely aware of the sensation of every single one of his touches, kisses on my body. One of his hands cups my breast over the dress, presses a thumb on the nipple. I moan, frustrated, layers of clothes getting in the way. My stomach is turning to jelly, a fire gathering underneath that. Against my skin there, I feel him, hardening. I press onto the bulge, moving one of my thighs to brush against it.

A low growl escapes from deep within him as he shoves me against the wall. His lips are on my throat, my shoulder, leaving a trail of fire on my skin. He pulls down the side of my dress, my bra, and then my nipple in his hot mouth. An entire galaxy of stars explode behind my eyes. His teeth, his tongue, his lips, nipping, sucking, grazing, brushing, pressing. My back arches. Oh, fuck. Oh, FUCK. I can’t take it for too long, and I pull his face up to mine again, kissing him.

This is not like any touch, any kiss, any passionate exchange I've ever had. Every sensation seems to be searing into my body and mind. Images bloom in my head, images I could never dream up before, tangled and confusing, lusty and sinful. Too many feelings burst inside my chest. Pure pain and endless pleasure. Desperate heat and exquisite deliberation. I almost can't hold it in.

We stop, come up for air. Our eyes meet. And he goes still.

We’re looking at each other, his fiery blue eyes into my hazel, and I feel him struggling right now, I clearly feel it. He roughly pushes me away, takes steps back, closes his eyes. Breathes. Once, twice. Three and four times. He opens his eyes again. His body is shaking imperceptibly with held-in tension, and I can only imagine the effort this sudden bottling is taking him. But his face is now calm.

‘We cannot do this.’, he says. Just like that. 

I still feel there isn’t enough air in my lungs. I stand, unsteady, adjusting my dress, my whole body on fire. ‘We did’, I say, voice trembling.

His jaw muscles tighten, ‘We should not have. I should not have.�� He sighs, but is also calmer every second. ‘I cannot.’

At this moment, it’s impossible to think I’ll ever feel calm again. I look at him, every instinct in my body telling me to run to him, wrap myself around him, take his mouth into mine again. But when your partner, in crystal clear terms, is telling you ‘no’, there is only one right thing to do.

Stop.

I don’t ask why. No one can fake what we just did, and I know he wanted it as much as I did. If he's still stopping, he must have his reasons, and he’d tell me already if he could. It’s not usual, but nothing about this was. I take deep breaths, relaxing my shoulders, straightening my clothes, untangling my hair. ‘Well’, I say, ‘That was nice anyway. Thank you.’

Dream laughs, actually laughs, and I laugh too, because, after all that, after my thigh on his dick and my nipple in his mouth, am I really saying ‘thank you’ right now? God, that’s dumb!

But dumb is good. Uncomplicated.

‘Athene would also be flattered that you are portraying her’, Dream says quietly, with a slight emphasis on ‘you’.

I smile. ‘Okay, this ‘thank you’ is real.’

‘And your mother, every day and night, she dreams of forgiveness. You can give her that, if you want.’

I almost get whiplash from the turn of the conversation. ‘Wh…what? How would you know?’

‘I know’, he puts his hands in his coat pocket, jutting his chin just a bit upwards like I'm realizing he often does. ‘I must go. And you, you will soon know what you want,-', he calls me by my name, 'Good fortune be with you.'

I know he’s talking about my life, career, and those other stuff that sounds so insignificant at this moment, and I still say, simply, ‘I want you.’

Dream goes still for a fraction of a moment, but says nothing except, ‘Goodbye.’ He begins to turn away, then stops. A wicked gleam comes into his eyes. That’s new, I think.

‘Everybody dreams.’, he whispers.

‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘And?’

He smiles suddenly, only this time it looks like he knows something that I don’t.

‘Well, then. I shall find a way to make one for you.’

‘’Make one for me’? What does that mean?’

‘Goodbye’, Dream walks away, and this time I know this is final. I take a step towards him almost involuntarily, but even without turning his head he knows somehow, and holds up a hand. I stop, and watch him disappear into the night. I stand there, realizing somewhere in the back of my mind that he called me by my name which I never told him. But that doesn't matter now, nothing does. All I feel is him all over me. The thunder, the storm, the miserable ruin left behind. 

After a while I sigh, and turn back. I'll have to figure out a way to be okay. Don't I always? But I won't forget him.

I couldn't forget him if I wanted to.

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: seven ( 12.3k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from sleep. You sit bolt upright, confusion and panic dousing you like twin buckets of ice water. You’d been having a nightmare about something, but you can’t remember what. The tattered ends of it are already slipping away, just out of reach. You don’t chase after them.

You fumble for your phone in the dark, fingers groping uselessly at your blankets until they close around it. The bright white light from your screen blinds you as you flip it over and you blink blearily, rubbing at your eyes with one hand and trying to answer with the other.

“Hello?” you rasp, mashing the speaker button. “Who is this?”

“Apologies for disturbing your sleep, ma’am.” A woman’s voice crackles over the other end of the line. You can hear exhaustion dripping off every word. “This is Officer Kwon from the Namhyeon-dong precinct of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Force.”

You squint into the dark expanse of your bedroom, a little frown on your face as you struggle to process what she’s saying. “....okay?”

“I’m calling because we’ve got two of your hybrids in custody.”

You blink slowly. “Hmmmm, I don’t think so...” you mumble through a yawn. “They’re all in bed.”

“We ran their numbers through the registry and you were pinged as the owner of both.” You hear papers shuffling and her voice get distant as she transfers the receiver to her shoulder to free up a hand. “We’ve got a rabbit calling himself Jeongguk and a Seokjin who the rabbit says is a deer-” She sighs. “Listen, I’m at the end of my rope here. They won’t tell me where they came from and the phone number of the business they were registered to before you is out of service. They’re hurt pretty bad, worse than what we can take care of here at the station. We can’t get them any sort of medical care without their guardian’s permission, so-”

Your eyes glaze over as you groggily connect the dots.

A deer and a rabbit.

Not canine, not feline.

Other.

Other.

You shove the covers down your legs and kick them over the side of the bed. “I’m on the way,” you tell her, already adding up the distance between your building and Namhyeon-dong. It’d take an hour to get all the bus transfers you needed- your eyes narrow as you squint at the time on your phone. 3:27 AM. You’d have to get a cab. Your stomach twists at the thought of the fare, but you shove the feeling down. This was no time to be thrifty. “Do whatever you need to.”

The officer exhales in relief. You can practically hear the tension leave her shoulders. “There’s a little hybrid clinic in the neighborhood. I’ll see if I can get the vet up and convince them to go.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. She gives you the address and you type it into your notes app, reading it back to her twice to make sure you got it right. She hangs up with a promise to see you soon and your phone locks, leaving you alone in the blue-black gloom of an early morning.

This wasn’t great. This wasn’t great any way you sliced it. You’d thought you’d have an extra two weeks to get the canines settled and all five hybrids to at least not want to kill each other. That’d been the plan, at least, when you’d sequestered yourself in your bedroom without telling Jimin and Taehyung goodnight or doing any introductions. Now the others were coming and you were on borrowed time. You drag your hands down over your face. “What are we gonna do?” Nothing but silence answers you.

When you were a kid and you’d had anything big before you- a massive school project you’d waited til the last moment to start, having to walk yourself to the market because your mom was too sick to go, a hard conversation with a friend- your mom had always told you to break it down into smaller pieces. Make the big thing small; do what you can for now. So, that’s what you do.

You shove your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, tug your backpack out from under your bed and grab a pair of socks. You slide them on as quickly as you can and head for the door. You tug it open and try to rush through, already on the way to your next small thing- but you stumble over a shoulder and go down.

You let out a yelp of surprise that quickly morphs into one of pain as your forehead knocks against the other person’s. Your hands slam down on either side of their head and their own fly up to your waist to steady you. You blink down at them, willing your eyes to adjust to the dark.

Hoseok is beneath you. He’s squinting up at you, his hair in disarray and his cheeks puffy with sleep. “Ow,” he croaks.

You wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing the spot on his forehead your own knocked against on autopilot. He seems to wake up a little at that, eyebrows inching up his forehead. You snatch your hand back. “Ah, sorry. I was worried I hurt you-”

“I’m okay,” he rasps, his voice still thick with sleep. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay.” You disentangle yourself from him and rise back to your feet. He struggles to get up too, mirroring you. The blankets pooled around his hips fall to his feet. You frown at the picture he makes, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion and indents on his cheek from the hardwood. “Did you...did you sleep out here?”

His ears fall and he lowers his head a bit between his shoulders. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did…”

You wrote off a lot of the behavior the boys exhibited that you didn’t understand as just a part of them being hybrids. When Taehyung affectionately headbutted you, or Jimin always hopped up on counters or Yoongi lapped from glasses instead of sipping, you just accepted it and stashed it away to google later- but this was a little more concerning. Did he not feel safe in his room? You’d tried to put him and Namjoon as far away from the felines as you could, but you also knew the cats weren’t thrilled about sharing their space. You hoped they hadn’t made him feel too unwelcome after you’d collapsed into bed.

“Is everything okay?” His ears twitch as the smell of your worry fills his nose. He leans forward and for a moment you think he’s gonna close the distance between you- but he pulls back.

“No,” he answers. You feel your heart sink. “I just...your room is closest to the front door.” You blink at him slowly, not following. You don’t know how his sight is in the dark, but he must see the confusion furrowing your brow,because he continues. “Your room is the only one on the first floor and it’s close to the living room and front door. We all sleep upstairs. If someone broke in, they’d get you first.” He tosses a finger down at the blankets. “I was sleeping here so that wouldn’t happen.”

“Nobody’s gonna get me, Hoseok,” You soothe, trying to assuage his fears. “I’m nobody-”

“You don’t know that,” he argues back. “And you’re not ‘nobody’ to me. I waited my whole life for you. I’ve gotta keep you safe.”

You don’t know what to make of that. You’d known Hoseok had been trained specifically to protect the person he’d eventually be sent to, but you hadn’t expected him to be so adamant about it. After all Namjoon grew up in the same place- No. Your expression sours as the thought stops you. No he didn’t. The wolfdog hybrid had been locked away for most of his life and interaction with others had come only in the form of meal delivery. He wouldn’t have had the director’s lessons drilled into his head everyday in the same way Hope had.

Still, no one has expressed this level of care for you since your mom died. You’re not entirely sure you deserve it.

“I was gonna wake up before you did and go back to my room,” he mumbles, kicking gently at the blanket and not meeting your eyes. “I promise, I was. I didn’t expect you to be up this early.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, his ears drooping more and more the longer you look at him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Hoseok,” You tell him and his ears perk up a little. It was true, he hadn’t. His actions were sweet, if a bit misguided but you were more worried about him than anything. “I don’t know what the director told you or what you’ve heard, but I promise there’s no one after me.” He frowns at that, lips twisting into a little pout. He goes to interject, but you speak again before he can. “If you’re worried about anything, just tell me okay? If there’s anything you need to do to make yourself feel more at ease here, just tell me.” You implore him softly.

Hoseok nods slowly and you see his tail give one small wag. You nod back, and turn to go, but his voice stops you. “I think it would help a lot if I could sleep down here.” Your brow furrows at that.

“This is the only bedroom on this floor, though?”

He whines and looks like he’s about to explain- but a soft voice purring in your ear cuts him off. “He could sleep on the couch,” Jimin supplies, his arms entwining around your middle as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “It’s quite comfortable...Y/N-ah, do you mind dogs on the furniture?” His tone is light, free of the haze of sleep and a little teasing. From the way Hoseok’s ears droop and the way his shoulders curve in, you could tell Jimin hadn’t crept down here for a bit of good-natured ribbing. Your scent sours as your expression does, irritation with the leopard hybrid pricking at you. He lets out a little disgruntled murr in protest as he noses at your neck, trying to get you to soften for him. You tilt your head away from him and disentangle yourself from his arms. It’s three in the morning, you have to cross the city to deal with the fallout from God only knows what, and your neck still aches from the bruise Yoongi had left on it. You have too much on your plate to deal with Jimin needling his new housemate.

“Leave him alone, Jimin,” You exhale, side-stepping the leopard hybrid and heading down the corridor for the door. “Hoseok, you can sleep where you want. I’ve gotta go.”

The doberman takes a step forward. “I’ll come with you-” the icy look Jimin shoots him has him slowing but it’s not until the leopard hybrid bares his teeth at him that he stalls entirely. The sound of his whimper has you whirling around, but when you do, you find Jimin looking at you, blasé and Hoseok eyeing him with uncertainty

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise,” you toss back over your shoulder as you slide your feet into a pair of shoes. “Please, just...if you can’t be friendly, just do your own thing ‘til I get back.” You lace up your sneakers as quickly as you can and duck out the door. “Text me if you need anything; I’ll call on the way back.” And you’re gone, leaving the leopard and the doberman in the dark.

You are not at all confident in their ability to maintain a truce while you’re gone. You’re almost certain that if you hadn’t shoved your way between Namjoon and Yoongi last night, they’d have come to blows right there in the lobby last night. You punch the button for the ground floor and slump back against the railing of the elevator, exhaustion settling heavy on you now that you were alone again. You’d known Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung weren’t thrilled about sharing their space, but you hadn’t expected this kind of fallout from bringing new hybrids home. You don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make things a little easier, but you want to. Sighing, you resign yourself to more research. You pull out your phone and start typing.

why are my hybrids freaking the fuck out

You backspace. Venting at google wasn’t going to help you figure out what the sharp looks Jimin kept throwing Hoseok while he thought your back was turned meant or why Yoongi had been so furious the other hybrids’ scent was on you.

why don’t my hybrids like each other

Just like all your other searches, this one turns up millions of results. You thumb over the links but none of them are helpful. They’re dealing with puppy hybrids bickering and cat hybrids hissing at each other. None of them cover cross-species beef. None of them deal with exotics. You sigh, lock your phone and tilt your head back to stare at the soft yellow lights in the elevator’s ceiling. You were out of your depth. You’d known that from the moment Mr. Seo turned you into an heiress with a wave of his fountain pen. You get the urge to run, that old niggling feeling that settled like a stone in your mind and made your palms itch.

It’s been years since you last felt the need to pull a disappearing act. You don’t think you’ve done it since the one year anniversary of your mom’s death. The foster home you’d been sent to was a shit show. You found out the woman in charge had been pocketing the money you gave her every month for your mother’s columbarium fees and her urn was in danger of being thrown out. You’d shoved everything you owned into your school bag and walked across the city to get her. When the police found you, you were striding down the side of the highway, her urn clutched to your chest, determined to go anywhere but there.

You hadn’t known where you were going then; you still didn’t now. All you’d had was the urge to flee and fire under your feet. All you’d had was a singular focus on the road ahead.

The elevator reaches the ground floor with a soft ding, the automated voice letting you know you’ve reached the lobby. You step out and shuffle across it with your head down, careful to avoid eye contact with the receptionist watching you warily from behind her desk.

It’s a cold night. A blast of frigid air hits your face the second you’re out the door. You curse under your and fold your arms around yourself in a futile effort to keep warm. You should go back upstairs and get the coat Yoongi made you buy. You shift from one foot to the other, weighing your options- and decide against it. If the conversation you’d had with Hoseok was enough to wake Jimin and send him slinking toward you, you running in and out of the penthouse would almost certainly wake Yoongi up. Memories flash in your mind: his hands gripping your hips tight, his rough tongue laving over your neck, that self-satisfied smirk he’d let spread over his mouth. You pinch yourself, trying to stem the heat you can feel crawling out the neck of your sweatshirt. It had upset you, there was no denying that. The warm feeling that’d bubbled up in your stomach at being touched didn’t wash away the fact that him marking you had nothing to do with your friendship and everything to do with warding off the canine hybrids.

Yeah, you decide, quickening your pace down the ice-slicked sidewalk. You’d much rather face the cold than him.

You make quick work of the walk from Haneul Tower to the streets of the club district. It’s only two blocks up and one over, but by the time you get there, you feel like a giant icicle. You’re out of place in a sweatshirt and scuffed up sneakers among the glitz and glamor of the club-goers, but you don’t have time to deal with your imposter syndrome. You duck into the first taxi you find, pass the old man the address Officer Kwon had given you and settle back.

He complains nearly the entire time about how far out of the way you’re making him go. You apologize as much as you’re able and promise him return fair back to Gangnam if he waits for you. He huffs and puffs, but he still takes you. Forty minutes later, you’re standing on the sidewalk outside of Happy Tails Hybrid Clinic, rapping urgently at the glass. After two minutes that feel like twenty, someone finally answers you.

You think she’s in her late twenties but the dark circles under her eyes she keeps rubbing at make her look older. She’s dressed in the typical winter police uniform, minus her jacket. The pale blue sleeves of her dress shirt are rolled up above her elbows and are blotchy with pale red marks she’d tried to scrub out. Blood. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

She unlocks the door and pokes her headout. “Y/N L/N?” She asks, eyes narrowed against the glare of the street lamps.

“Yeah,” you answer, giving one short nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Officer Kwon; we spoke on the phone.” She opens the door for you fully, stepping back and ushering you in urgently. “I’ll be honest,” she says once you’re safely inside and the door is locked back tight again. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show.”

You frown at that. “Why wouldn’t I have shown?”

“Most of the time when hybrids run, it’s an abuse case.” She drops into one of the plastic chairs lining the waiting room. Her head falls back with a thunk against the yellow plaster. If it hurts, she shows no signs of it, just stares up at the fluorescent lights. You settle on the lip of the chair next to her, feeling awkward and anxious. “The rabbit broke into an Olive Young to steal antiseptic and bandages,” she supplies without you having to ask. “He said he did it for the deer. When he showed me he was…” Officer Kwon exhales sharply and tips forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood.”

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” you insist softly. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know,” she answers, voice muffled against her palms. “I pulled your name and ID picture from the national database and the rabbit didn’t recognize you. Even if you didn’t do it, I didn’t think you’d wanna deal with it.”

Your anxiety spikes at her words. What had happened to the hybrids before she found them? Who’d want to hurt them that badly? Your mouth feels dry, but you force it to move. “Do you know who they were running from?”

Officer Kwon shakes her head and drags her hands down her face. She lets her arms fall to her knees as she hunches over in her chair, back bowed with exhaustion. “Whatever the rabbit knows, he’s not sharing,” she exhales. “-And the deer’s in no position to speak up. He’s been unconscious since I found him.” As if sensing you tense, she adds, “He’s on the table now. I think Dr. Cheon put him under sedation.”

You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure if there’s anything you even can. You have a million questions buzzing around in your mind, but so heavy is the weight of them on your tongue that you can’t find the strength to ask a single one. You’re saved by the doctor coming out from the back.

The door right next to the counter that reads STAFF + PATIENTS ONLY swings open and a middle aged woman in cat print scrubs comes out, shoulders hunched in like she’s got the weight of the world on her back. You can’t blame her; she looks every bit as tired as you feel. She stops just short of you and Officer Kwon, peels off a pair of blue medical gloves, dyed sticky red, and tosses them into the garbage can behind the reception desk. “Well,” she huffs, dragging her fingers through the greying wisps of hair that’d escaped from her braid. “It’s done.”

“How is he?” The police officer asks before you can. Dr. Cheon grimaces and leans against the counter.

“If you hadn’t found him in time, it could’ve been much worse.” You think she’s trying to put you at ease, but you don’t want compromising optimism. You want the truth. “An hour or two later and we’d be dealing with a very different situation, medically.”

You swallow and force yourself to speak. “Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened?”

Dr. Cheon turns her attention to you and blinks slowly, like she’d just noticed you were there. “...this is the guardian?” The police officer nods. The doctor takes you in, eyes roving from the mess of your hair twisted into a bun atop your head, to the scuffed rubber toes of your sneakers. She’s judging you, you know, trying to find something that’d mark you as the reason for the pain and suffering of the hybrids she’d helped. She finds none. “It didn’t happen to them,” she sighs. “Someone did this to them on purpose, likely over the course of several hours.” She tugs the office chair out from behind the desk and sinks into it, her limbs going to jelly the second she’s seated.

“Jeongguk won’t tell me what happened, but I know the signs. Puncture wounds around the entirety of Seokjin’s ankle, remnants of both sedatives and epinephrine in both of their blood, what looks like a bullet graze wound on Jeongguk’s side and he’s got a broken arm,” she rattles off symptom after symptom, each of them making the knot in your belly wind tighter and tighter. “The worst of it is Seokjin’s head. Hairline fractures all along the top of his skull and lacerations on his pedicles. They took his antlers from him.”

You feel sick to your stomach. You knew there were people who hurt hybrids, just like there were people that hurt animals and other people. You just hadn’t expected to ever have to deal with the fallout of one such incident. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll survive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Cheon allows. “But he’ll need to be monitored closely during these next few weeks. They were hunted. If they decide to come with you instead of going to the shelter with Officer Kwon, you’ll need to be cognisant of the fact that the trauma from that could manifest in unexpected ways.”

Hunted. They’d been hunted.

You knew hunting was illegal in South Korea, you had that little tidbit tucked away in the recesses of your grade school memory along with the list of provinces and their capitals and the names of all the sailor scouts. It’d been outlawed in the fifties with the rash of hybrid centered legislation after a hunter up in Chungcheongbuk-do had shot a black bear hybrid he’d mistaken for a real bear. It was determined that since humans couldn’t distinguish between regular animals and hybrids shifted down into animal form, hunting had to be outlawed to prevent any accidental killings.

“Were they shifted down?” You ask. “Did someone not realize-”

“No.” Dr. Cheon’s answer is swift and final. “They knew. This was a choice.” The disgust in her voice is palpable.

“There are places that...Some centers cater to people that want to hunt.” Officer Kwon cuts in. “They have hybrids as employees and they let people rent airsoft or paintball guns to come hunt them. It’s supposed to be more ethical than actual hunting. No matter how distasteful I might personally find it, if they have a permit, there’s not really much the police can do unless a law has been broken. ”

“And without any information on where they came from, we can’t prove that one has,” Dr. Cheon finishes. “The most I can do as a vet is submit a report to the police about a possible abuse case and hope it makes its way to the hybrid crimes unit.” You hear the words she doesn’t speak, the meaning behind them. There’s nothing more we can do. They’ll get away with it. This is the end of the line.

Dr. Cheon drops her palms against her knees and forces herself to stand “Jeongguk’s injuries should heal just fine outside of the clinic,” She sighs. “But Seokjin-” she clicks her tongue against her teeth and gives a single shake of her head. “Cervine hybrids don’t shed their antlers like real deer do. There’s no telling if his will grow back or what they’ll look like when they do. All we can do is keep the wounds clean and pray.”

You nod numbly. She gestures for you to follow her and you do, making your way around the reception desk and through the staff door with her.

It’s dim in the back. The overhead lights are off and your path ahead is illuminated only by what light spills over from the reception room and an exam room up ahead. There’s only four of them, but the door to this one is slightly ajar. “Wait here for a second,” Dr. Cheon instructs, slipping through the door and leaving you alone in the corridor. You can hear her speaking softly to someone inside and them answering in even quieter tones. You have to strain to pick up the edge of their voice and even then, you can’t understand what they’re saying. “Would you like her to come in here, or would you like her to stay outside?” You hear her ask. The response is too soft for you to catch but a second later the door swings open.

Dr. Cheon steps out and gestures for the shadowy figure behind her to follow. “It’s alright,” she assures them. “No one here is going to hurt you.” Slowly, they shuffle out from the back.

It’s Jeongguk. There’s no denying what he is, not with the black velvet ears you see poking up out of his mop of wavy, dark hair. They’re alert; they prick toward you when your breath hitches. His eyes are dark and wide and the tip of his nose twitches when he looks at you. You muster up a smile you hope is reassuring and this right foot taps once against the linoleum. Yes, he’s a rabbit- but he’s also fucking huge.

What little research you’d managed to do in between apologizing to your taxi driver and keeping an eye on the fare had been straightforward: rabbit hybrids were naturally timid, needed a lot of attention and were small. Most sources you’d checked seemed to concur that they very rarely cleared 5’5. Jeongguk is pushing 6 feet and he’s built like a professional athlete. You suppose that’s what happens when you’ve spent your whole life running for it.

He’s wearing a teeshirt that’s too tight on his chest, the logo of the Seoul police force stretched thin, and a pair of grey sweatpants that are too short for him, both obviously on loan from Officer Kwon. His feet are bare, but there are bandages wrapped around both of them. True to what Dr. Cheon told you, his arms in a cast and wrapped in a sling. There’s scrapes on his knuckles and bruises blooming on the right side of his face. He looks like he’s been through the wringer. Still, he doesn’t slouch or shrink before you.

“Jeongguk, this is the woman we talked about,” Dr. Cheon tells him. He nods, but doesn’t move his gaze from your face once. “You’ll be going home with her-”

“Only if he wants,” You interject and she nods in agreement, quickly adding that caveat in.

“-only if you want.” He nods again and swallows, his bare foot giving another little tap against the floor.

“What about Seokjin?” He asks you.

“If he wants to come too, he’s welcome to, but neither of you have to if you don’t want to.” There’s a little frown on his face as you answer and he finally looks away. You can’t help but think that’s a bad sign, that he thinks he and his friend would be safer in a shelter that they ever could be with you- but then he asks another question.

“Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?” You frown at that. Why was it that every hybrid in the city was suddenly so concerned with your marital status? Hoseok had asked you in the car last night and now Jeongguk seemed worried about it as well. Sensing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you live with any men?”

You wince. “Oh! Yeah, I live with five.” You see his expression darken as his ears sag. “They’re mostly predator-”

“If they’re hybrids, it’s fine.” He interjects, a little tension leaving his shoulders. “I can live with them.”

You relax too. From what you’d seen, most shelters weren’t nice places. They were overcrowded and underfunded. If the news was any indication, some of the worse ones got treated like grab bags by fighting rings, who’d shell out a couple thousand won for a canine hybrid and turn him into a prize fighter. You didn’t want that for them, not if you could provide an alternative.

But was it one though? He said he could live with them, but could they live with him? You think back to Yoongi and Namjoon snarling at each other last night, about Jimin’s little jabs at Hoseok. Yeah, you’d need to have another house meeting when you got home if this was ever going to work. Jeongguk had just been through hell and back; the last thing he needed was a territorial bobcat trying him.

“You can change your mind any time,” You tell him softly. “If you get there and feel like it’s not a good fit for you and Seokjin, you can go, okay?”

He dips his head. “Okay.”

“I think Seokjin can decide for himself.”

Your eyes rocket just over Jeongguk’s shoulder. There’s a man leaning heavily against the doorframe of the room the rabbit hybrid had come out of. He’s in a blue exam gown, his feet bare except for a plain white cast on his left leg. Every part of his head from his eyebrows up is bandaged, but you see soft tufts of red-brown hair poking out from between the layers. He looks human. You’d almost think he was if it weren’t for the oblong pupils in his hazel eyes and supple ears you see twitching as he observes you.

“What are you doing up?!” The alarm in Dr. Cheon’s voice is palpable. “Those sedatives should’ve kept you out ‘til morning.” She takes a step like she’s going to rush to his side- but stops short when he tenses and tilts his chin to his chest. Just for a second, it looked like he was preparing himself to square off against her- like he was brandishing something that wasn’t really there. His antlers, you think. He was trying to protect himself with his antlers.

Seokjin forces himself upright, his knees wobbling as he tries to stand on his own. He looks off-balance, and it’s not just because of the cast. He looks like he’s trying to figure out how to stand now that a piece of him is missing. His legs are trembling. “What can I say?” He huffs, sounding like he just ran a marathon. “I like to surprise people.” And then his legs buckle underneath him.

He hits the floor with a heavy thud. Jeongguk and Dr. Cheon rush to his side but he waves them off, eyes closed and brow knit in frustration. “I’m fine,” he insists, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to struggle back to his feet. “I’m fine, I just…I just need a moment-”

“You need bed rest.” Dr. Cheon goes to latch on to his arm to help him stand but Jeongguk catches her wrist, gives a single shake of his head and she drops it back to her side.

Seokjin manages to get himself back standing, but he sways precariously. “If this were a hunt, I’d already be dead.” He swallows and inhales shakily through his nose, doing his best not to gulp down air. “You should have left me, Jeongguk. You know the rules. One falls, but the herd rises-”

“The herd is gone, Seokjin.” The bitterness in the younger hybrid’s voice takes you aback. It’s a black wave, threatening to drown all four of you right there in the corridor. Seokjin stares at him, his jaw slack and pretty brown eyes wide.

“What do you-”

“They’re gone.” The rabbit hybrid’s bruised fingers clench into a fist and he fixes his glare on the tile. “All of them.”

Silence rings in the corridor. Dr. Cheon’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, but she doesn’t press for details and neither do you. She’d been right. They’d been hunted. The thought of it turns your stomach. Seokjin closes his eyes, long lashes fanning out over his cheeks as a muscle tenses in his jaw. He’s thinking. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is settled on you. Your heart jumps as your nerves get the better of you, and one of his ears flicks back.

“You’re taking us?” He asks. You swallow.

“Only if you want me to.” An unreadable look passes between him and Jeongguk, the younger’s nose twitching.

“Speaking strictly as your doctor,” Dr. Cheon speaks up, interrupting the hybrids’ telepathy. “You need time to rest and recuperate-”

“Is there any special reason I have to rest and recuperate here?” He asks. You can’t help but notice the slight challenge in his voice. The corner of the doctor’s mouth twitches.

“No, I suppose not,” she acquiesces. She doesn’t look particularly pleased about the prospect of letting her patient go when he was still in the danger zone, but if the look of determination in Seokjin’s eyes is any indication, she doesn’t have much choice.

“Then, we’ll go.” The tone of his voice is final, letting everyone present know that he’s done talking about it.

That's the last that’s said to you or anyone else about it. Jeongguk falls in line with his orders easily and so doesDr. Cheon after she manages to get him to accept a pair of crutches she’d foisted upon him and passes off a prescription for pain meds and both of their check up schedules to you.

“It’s important that they don’t miss these dates,” she tells you at the reception counter, tapping the sheath of papers with one clean, blunted nail. “A single one of them. And make sure they don’t shift ‘til I’ve given them the all clear. Hybrid injuries are tricky, but they’re aggravated by the shift.” You nod, hanging onto every word she says, forcing your tired brain to take mental notes. “And-” she cuts her eyes at Jeongguk and Jin, both of whom are lingering in various extremes in the room, the deer hybrid sitting ramrod straight in a chair in the far right corner and the rabbit pretending to browse informational pamphlets. Once Dr. Cheon’s deemed it safe, she leans closer to you across the counter and gestures for you to come closer as well. You blink in confusion but acquiesce. “It’s important that your current hybrids be made to feel secure with the new additions coming.” She tells you, voice gravely serious. “Do you know about scenting order?”

After a beat, you nod. “Yeah. I mean, I read about it online but-”

Dr. Cheon tuts her tongue against the back of her teeth. “Online sources are shaky at best, wildly inaccurate at worst- particularly forums.” Your stomach flips. Had all your research been for nothing? “What did they tell you?”

“Um…” your brain boots up slowly as you try to recall the hours of research you’d done. “Uh, dominant hybrid first, then in age order?”

The corner of Dr. Cheon’s mouth quirks in an odd way. “That’s certainly a simplified way of looking at it.”

You wince.

“Hybrid group dynamics can be…” She searches for the right word. “Messy to start out with, especially with hybrids who don’t know each other who find themselves with an inexperienced handler. They’re all going to be trying to figure out where they fit in the pecking order as well as how their relationship with you works. There’s likely to be a lot of posturing, not just in order to impress you, but to solidify their place as well.” Dr. Cheon drags a hand down over her face. “Seven male hybrids under one roof...It’d be a miracle if no one’s missing fingers by the time the week’s out.”

“Is there any way I can stop them from being mean to each other?”

“I’m not a behaviorist,” The doctor sighs. “But I’d suggest you start with a conversation.”

You slide into the back of the taxi a little after 5:30 AM and pull out your phone. You’d promised to call on the way back and you don’t want a repeat of what’d happened the last time you’d forgotten. You scroll down your contacts, thumb hovering over Yoongi’s name and you hesitate. You remember warm lips, a rough tongue. You remember hands gripping your hips tight and a possessive growl in your ear. You press Taehyung’s name instead.

The tiger hybrid picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice is slow and scratchy, still thick with sleep.

“Hey, it’s Y/N-” Almost immediately a happy rumbling starts from his end of the line. You can hear the sleepy joy in it and it makes your face warm.”A-and I just wanted to let you guys know I’m on the way home.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, a low, musical sound. “Where’d you go?”

You bite your lip as nerves spark up in you. Well, all things considered, it was probably better for him to find out now rather than later. “The last two hybrids my uncle got…they were hurt and I had to come get them.”

The line is quiet for a moment and you gnaw at the bottom of your lip. Finally, Taehyung speaks. “Ah.” That’s all he says. Somehow, that’s worse than whatever Yoongi growling at the new hybrids or Jimin icing them out.

“I’ll be home in about another forty-five minutes, okay? Could you have everyone get together in the living room for me? We need to have a conversation.”

“Yeah, I can.”

You wince. There’s an almost imperceptible change in his voice. You swallow. “Taehyung, are you upset?”

He hums again like he’s considering it. “No,” he answers after a moment. “I don’t think i am. At least, not with you.”

That does little to allay your fears, but you force yourself to sound upbeat when you tell him, “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you when you get home.”

The line clicks off and you drop your head against the headrest. A conversation. It should be a simple thing, but you spend the entirety of your taxi ride back to Gangnam with your stomach in knots. If the thought of introducing your two (very injured, very vulnerable) new hybrids to a house full of predators wasn’t enough, you have to try to allay Jeongguk’s inexplicable fear of the taxi driver. The middle aged man isn’t thrilled about ferrying hybrids across the city anyway, but between Seokjin swooning and Jeongguk thumping his foot so hard the whole car rattles whenever the man so much as looks in his rearview mirror, he’s almost ready to put all three of you out on the side of the highway. You have to promise him a 50,000 won tip just to get him to relent. He rolls up the partition, but even that doesn’t put Jeongguk at ease.

The rabbit hybrid is curled up in the corner of the backseat, his back against the door, his injured arm cradled close and his knees pulled up to his chin. His ears are on high alert, twitching at every passing car or stray siren. His whole body is tensed up like there’s a current running through it, like if he lets himself relax for a second, he’ll disperse into nothing. He’s glaring daggers at the partition, but you know he can’t see the driver. The car rolls over a speed bump a bit too fast and he flinches, hand shooting out for the door handle.

You watch him, concern coloring your scent. It’s not your place to ask, you know, and you feel almost stupid doing it, but the words slip out of their own accord. “Are you okay?” It’s a ridiculous question. You can still see the bruises blooming on his cheekbone, see the angry red of his split lip in the stray light of street lamps. His dark eyes flick toward you, round nose twitching.

“How do you know he’s taking us somewhere safe?” His gaze shifts from you, to the partition, to Seokjin, dozing fitfully on your otherside. The deer hybrid had finally surrendered to his pain meds not a second after you’d helped buckle him in. He’d been out cold before the driver had pulled away from the curb.

“Because that’s what I paid him to do,” you tell him, truthfully. You’d never given much thought to how much trust you placed in taxi and bus drivers to not kidnap you before. You certainly had to now, especially when Jeongguk seemed hyperaware of the fact that you’d entrusted all of your lives to a stranger. The rabbit hybrid swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his throat. He gives a little shake of his head.

“He could take your money and still take us somewhere bad. He could take us up into the mountains and Seokjin and I wouldn’t be able to do anything because we’re hurt and-”

“That’s not going to happen, Jeongguk,” you say in as soothing a voice as you can manage to muster up. “It’s really unlikely that that’ll happen, but even if it did, I’d do my best to protect you.”

He snorts, ears tilting back. They brush the roof of the car as they do and he shrinks himself, shoulders hunching forward. “What can you do?” His tone is derisive. “You’re only human. You’re not as fast as us or as strong-”

“I’d try,” you insist, some strong, unnameable emotion tightening your chest at the thought of them in danger. “If if came down to it, I’d still try to protect the pair of you-”

“You don’t even know me.” Jeongguk’s voice is edging somewhere between disgust and disbelief. You look away from him then and at your hands, gripping your knees.

“I don’t,” you agree easily. “But I’d like to. Even if I don’t- even if I didn’t, people should still help each other when they can. We owe each other that much.” The taxi is quiet for a moment, only the sound of tires rushing over the slick pavement and other cars zooming by filling the empty air between the two of you. Finally, the rabbit hybrid exhales shakily.

“I’m not a person.” He sounds resigned to that fact, like he’s accepted a burden far too heavy for him. “I’m not even an animal. I’m a-”

“Just because you aren’t human…” you start off hesitantly, very much aware that you might be crossing several invisible lines. “...doesn’t mean you’re not a person. You have your own thoughts and feelings and emotions. You deserve to have them heard. I know I’m not as fast as you or as strong, but the least I can do is listen to you, right?” The car is silent again. You’re too nervous to look at Jeongguk, worried that you’d gone too far- but then there’s a warm weight against your side. It starts slow at first, just your shoulders brushing against each other, but before you know it, Jeongguk’s leaning his whole body against yours. He’s slumped over with his head tucked beneath your chin like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Jeongguk-”

“I’m afraid.” He admits in a whisper, like it’s the worst thing in the world. “Everything in me tells me to run all the time, but I can’t anymore.” His ears droop and his pretty dark eyes slip shut. This close, you can hear his heart beating at breakneck speed in his chest, feel how he shudders with every shaky inhale. “I’m so tired of running.” He’s terrified. You wouldn’t have guessed from his posture. Maybe the reason he held himself so tight was to stop himself from shaking apart.

You watch in surprise as the rabbit hybrid links his fingers with yours and drops your hand on top of his head, right between his velvety ears. “Help me like this.” You’re frozen, unsure what to do with a six foot tall man practically crawling into your sweatshirt with you. Was this really okay? He’d just been through something traumatic, the details of which you know nothing about. You hadn’t thought he’d want anyone to touch him, much less you, a virtual stranger. You don’t know what to do. The car jerks to a quick stop and the taxi driver leans on his horn, curses jaywalkers. Jeongguk’s grip on you tightens and he flinches so hard you’re surprised he didn’t knock his head into your teeth. He exhales shakily, tilts his head up and brushes his nose along the underside of your jaw. “Please,” he asks in a voice so small you know it’s killing him. “Just ‘til we get there, please just let me be weak.”

That breaks something inside you. Despite how awkward you might feel, he’s sure to be feeling worse. You wrap your arms fully around him, hesitant until you feel him go lax in your arms. You slowly stroke the back of his head and he buries his face in your clavicle, his eyes squeezed shut. “We’re almost there,” you assure him gently as he fists his good hand in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re almost home.”

By the time the three of you arrive back at Haneul tower, the sky is lightening in the east and the first wave of office workers are making their way from your building into the streets of Gangnam. It’s not even 6 AM yet, but the city is stirring.

It takes you a good ten minutes to rouse both the boys and get them out of the taxi. After you’d let Jeongguk cling to you, the rabbit hybrid had fallen asleep quickly, the exhaustion from his turbulent day finally catching up to him. Even in sleep he was latched on to you, a small crease between his brows and his nose wrinkled up. Seokjin hadn’t fared much better. The cocktail of meds Dr. Cheon had given him had rendered him dead to the world for the entirety of the drive back. Even now you were having trouble rousing him.

“Seokjin…” You shake the sleeping stag’s shoulders but the only response you get is a slight hitch in his snoring. “Seokjin, please wake up, we have to go…” You can practically feel the glare the taxi driver is giving you in his rearview mirror. Yeah, the meter is still running, but you’ve taken up enough of his time as it is. “Seokjin, come on…” Jeongguk is standing behind you, staring bleary-eyed up at the apartment building, his free hand fisted in the fabric of your sweatshirt. If he’s cold in his thin tee-shirt and bare feet, he makes no mention of it.

Without warning, the taxi driver leans on the horn. Seokjin’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, fear making his body tight. Jeongguk jerks so violently you think he’s going to rip a hole in your sweatshirt. You stumble back a few paces, trying to steady the rabbit and stop the pair of you from tumbling into the street. When you manage to right yourself, you slam a palm against the roof of the car and glare in the window at the driver. “Yo, what the fuck?”

The man glares back at you and waves you off. “I don’t have all day!” He shouts. “Get your animal and get out!”

You want to argue with him, you want to make him apologize- but the sight of Seokjin disoriented and afraid stops you. He’s looking at you with hazy eyes, his whole body stiff and his chest heaving. It’s for his sake alone that you hold your tongue. You reach a hand out to him. “Come on, buddy.” You say. “I got you.” He looks from your face to your hand and finally, slowly, places his own in it. His fingers are long and elegant and his hand dwarfs your’s. You tug him from the backseat and he leans heavily on you, hopping awkwardly to avoid walking on his broken foot. You pass him his crutches and he takes them, wobbling awkwardly as he tries to set himself to rights. “Can you stand?” You ask him. He nods and starts limping for the glass doors of Haneul Tower. He’s doing his best to look strong. His back is straight and his head is high, but you don’t miss the tremble in his fingers or the way he winces whenever the wind blows over the top of his head. You shove some bills at the taxi driver with a final, disapproving look, usher Jeongguk up onto the sidewalk and head inside after Seokjin.

The moment the three of you breach the double doors, Jeongguk drops his hand from your sweatshirt. His eyes rove over the glass and granite, round nose twitching at all the scents and his ears standing at attention on top of his head. He pauses, a little furrow between his brows. You’re halfway to the elevators, hovering a foot behind Seokjin in case he falls, before you notice the rabbit hybrid isn’t following you.

You cast a look back over his shoulder and find him gawking up at the hanging lights, mouth slightly ajar and starry-eyed. The corner of your mouth twitches. He’s cute, you decide. The thought leaves you almost instantly when you see Mr. Park powerwalking over to him, a sunny smile on his face. Jeongguk takes notice of him only a split second after you do and his eyes wide. You see him tense up, watch the fingers on his uninjured hand curl into a ball.

“You need to get him,” Seokjin says, sounding like he’s out of breath. You turn your attention back to the deer hybrid. He’s leaning heavily on his crutches and his face is pale. “You need to get him,” he repeats, nodding at Jeongguk. “That man gets any closer and Jeongguk will kick him.”

You whip back around. Mr. Park is closing the distance between them, seemingly unconcerned by the look of distress on the rabbit hybrids face or how his foot seems to be tapping a mile a minute.

“Excuse me!” The older man says, reaching out to put a hand on the rabbit hybrid’s shoulder. “Where’s your-”

“Mr. Park!” You practically sprint over as fast as you can, sliding between the receptionist and the hybrid just as he’d started winding his leg back. Mr. Park blinks, surprised to find you so suddenly in front of him. You offer him a tight smile. “He’s with me.”

“Oh! Ms. L/N, I apologize. He didn’t have a collar, so I assumed he was a stray.” The statement pricks at you, but you know he means nothing by it, so you try to stamp down your irritation. “It’s rare but we do occasionally have them come in in the hope someone will take them in.” He clucks his tongue against his teeth. “Such a shame really.”

You feel Jeongguk’s hand fist in the fabric of your sweatshirt. He wants to go. You nod emphatically at what Mr. Park says, already heading back to the elevators. “Yeah, totally,” you agree, shuffling the rabbit hybrid in front of you and putting some distance between him and the elderly man. “Well, have a good morning! I’ll see you later!”

“Ms. L/N, I actually need to speak with you-”

You wave him off and duck into the elevator Seokjin had called in your brief absence. “We’ll talk later!” You tell him, pressing the close door buttons as quickly as you can and willing them to shut before he can catch up.

“But it’s about your-!”

The doors click shut and you’re blessed with silence. You exhale in a short puff, press the button for the penthouse and slump against the cool metal wall, finally letting yourself relax for a moment. The elevator starts rolling and Jeongguk flinches beside you. He duck his head like he’s going to crouch down- but he stops himself, grips the railing instead.

“It’s okay,” You soothe. “It’s just-”

“I’m fine,” he insists, forcing himself to stand up straight and release the death grip he has on your sweatshirt. “I’m fine; my time’s up.”

It’s just like he’d said in the car. Just ‘til we get there, let me be weak.

The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence outside of the automated bell dinging as you pass each new floor and Seokjin panting quietly. He’s in a bad way. He’ll need another dose of pain meds soon. You arrive on the top floor, punching in the key code and pull the door open. “Let me get Seokjin settled, Jeongguk and I-” You run directly into someone.

Their arms wrap around you, covered in a brown cable knit sweater. It’s soft and they smell of vanilla. They press their cheek against the top of your head and exhale, a little rumble kicking up in their chest. “You’re back.” Taehyung.

“Hey, buddy.” You pat him on the back gently and peer around him. Yoongi and Jimin are both sprawled on the couch, legs kicked out so there isn’t room for anyone else to join them. Namjoon is sitting on the stairs shooting daggers at the back of Yoongi’s head and his arms crossed over his chest.Hoseok is lingering in the no man’s land between the living room and kitchen looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else. The atmosphere is tense to say the least.

Taehyung dips his head down. “I got them, like you said,” he whispers, lips brushing against the tip of your ear and his breath warm. You have fight off a little shiver, but if he notices it, he doesn’t react. “I don’t think Hyung and Jiminie like the others very much.”

You give a little nod of acknowledgement. “That’s okay,” you tell him. “We all just need to get to know each other a little better.”

Seokjin hobbles through the door, past the tiger hybrid and drops himself onto a stool on the kitchen with a heavy exhale. “Well, I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes at most before these meds catch a second wind, so let’s get this over with.” He’s doing his best to sound cavalier but he’s pallid. You don’t miss the thin sheen of cold sweat on his face and neck. “Seokjin. Twenty-eight. Red stag.”

All the other hybrids are staring at him in a mix of confusion, irritation and, in some cases, open dislike. It seems like they don’t know what to make of him. It’s Yoongi who speaks first. “If you’re a stag,” he drawls and you already feel dread welling up in you at what you know is going to follow. “Where are your antlers?”

Seokjin fixes him with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I only put them on for special occasions.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands together trying to diffuse the tension you can feel building. “New house rule: let’s not ask each other about injuries past or present unless we’re asking how to help.” Yoongi looks miffed, but he settles. It’s weird. Normally, you’d have expected him to say something snarky back to you. He’s trying not to push his luck after last night, you think. “Yoongi, why don’t you go next?”

His ears flick in annoyance, but he does as you ask. “I’m Yoongi, I’m twenty-seven and I’m a bobcat-”

“I’m Jimin,” his junior pipes up before he’s hardly had time to finish. “I’m an amur leopard and I came here with Yoongi-hyung and Tae. We’ve been with Y/N the longest.” He says it like it’s an important piece of information for everyone to know.

Beside you, Taehyung lifts one hand, palm up. “Hi,” he says calmly. “I’m Taehyung. I like the color purple.” Everyone watches him to see what else he’s going to say, but the tiger hybrid is finished. You give him a little nudge with your shoulder.

“Tell them how old you are and what your hybrid is,” you suggest.

“Oh,” he lifts his eyebrows like the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m twenty-four and I’m a tiger.” Suddenly remembering something, he tilts his head forward in a little bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” A sour look takes over Yoongi’s face and Jimin rolls his eyes, gestures for the youngest of their group to come sit beside him.

Hoseok is the next one to pipe up. “I’m Hoseok!” He seems to perk up a little when you turn your eyes to him, his docked tail giving as much of a wag as it’s able. “I’m a Doberman, I’m twenty-six and Joonie and I came from the same pla-”

“My name is Namjoon.” The wolfdog cuts off the other canine with a growl. All the wind goes out of Hoseok’s sails and you don’t miss the way Seokjin freezes up at the dark sound, suddenly alert. You weren’t sure if prey hybrids still avoided predator hybrids like their animal counterparts did, but you’d need to learn and fast. Namjoon leans back on the stairs, his jaw clenched. “I’m the same age as him-” he jerks his head at the Doberman hybrid. “-so I guess I’m twenty-six too.” He makes no mention of his hybrid and you don’t press. You don’t know how sensitive a subject it is for him yet, but you don’t want to find out the hard way.

Hoseok looks back at you and cocks his head to the side, his gaze fixed on a spot just over your shoulder. “Who’s he?”

Five pairs of eyes follow his. You turn around. Outside the apartment, still in the corridor, is Jeongguk, his back pressed against the wall and his eyes wide as he surveys the mixed bag of hybrids spread out in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Do you wanna come in?”

His gaze flicks from you, to the cats, then to Hoseok and finally to Namjoon. It’s only when he sees the wolfdog hybrid that he moves from the wall. He takes halting, jittery steps one after the other until he’s planted by your side, his eyes on his bare feet. Every move he makes makes it look like he’s fighting against his own body, forcing himself to tamp down his instinct and move.

“Can you introduce yourself?” You ask him softly. “Or do you want me to?”

His good hand clenches into a fist and forces himself to look up. He meets each of the other hybrid’s eyes evenly. “My name is Jeongguk.” When he speaks, there’s no shake in his voice. “I’m twenty-three years old. I came from the same place as Seokjin but we don’t know each other that well. I’m a Flemish Giant Rabbit.” So that was why he was so big. You’d never seen a Flemish Giant in real life, but you’d happened across the odd youtube video of them once or twice in your suggestions. They were huge.

With introductions out of the way, you feel a little tension melt out of your shoulders. That was the biggest hurdle. Maybe now that they all at least knew each other, they’d be a little more open to being around each other. You let out a little exhale. “And I’m Y/N. I’m also twenty-three and this is my uncle’s apartment. He’s the only that bought all of you but I only found out you were coming a little over a week ago, so please forgive me for being unprepared.” You rub your palms against your eyes, trying to combat the exhaustion you can feel crawling over you. “I don’t know that much about hybrids, but I’m trying to learn. A lot of things you’re gonna have to help me with. I’m not expecting you guys to be pets or best friends or anything, but if we could all try to get along I’d appreciate it.” You offer all seven them a weary smile. “Thanks for getting up early to do this, guys, I appreciate it. If there’s anything you need, literally anything, please don’t be scared to ask-”

“Um, Y/N?” Hoseok is looking at you like he’s been dying to say something for the past five minutes. You turn your attention to him and squint as you try to focus on what he’s saying. “I did a sweep of the apartment earlier-” That was concerning. You make a mental note to tell him he doesn’t have to do security sweeps anymore. “-and there’s only four bedrooms.”

You blink at him in confusion.

“There’s eight of us.”

Oh. Oh. You drag your hands down over your face. You hadn’t accounted for lack of space being an issue. When you first moved in, Oliver’s penthouse seemed like it went on forever. “Okay,” you start, crunching some quick numbers. “Some of us are gonna have to double up.” There’s a disgruntled mrow from the couch and without looking, you know it’s Jimin. “Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung are already sharing so they’re exempt, but Seokjin needs his own room- at least until he recovers.”

“That’s fine by me,” the stag chimes in. “But that leaves Jeongguk without a-”

“Hyung, can I stay with you?” The room goes quiet.

“Seokjin really needs his own room-” You pull your face out of your hands to address the rabbit hybrid, but he isn’t looking at the stag. His eyes are fixed on Namjoon who’s looking at him in a mix of confusion and alarm. The wolfdog looks from the rabbit to you.

“I saw a camp bed out in the greenhouse while you were showing us around last night.” He says, standing to go. “I’ll sleep out there.”

“Namjoon, you don’t have to sleep outside-”

“I like it out there.” He calls back over his shoulder as he climbs the stairs. “I can see the sky.” Then he’s gone and the six of you are left.

“Well,” Jimin purrs, rising and crossing the living room to you. “Best of luck.” He rubs his cheek against yours, folding you into a loose hug. You think he’s about to pull away, but he whispers in your ear, “If you want to share with us, you know where we sleep.” And then he’s gone, sauntering up the stairs with Taehyung and Yoongi in tow. The bobcat tosses a look at you, but you look away quickly, missing the way his ears sage when you do.

Now, the only ones left are you, Jeongguk, Hoseok and Seokjin who’s rapidly fading. “I’ll take the couch,” you volunteer. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world, but right now, the stark white cushions look like heaven to your sleep-deprived mind. “Seokjin can have my room-”

“He can have mine,” Hoseok interjects. “And, if it’s okay, could I stay with you?” There’s a light whine on the end of his words and you don’t miss the way his ears prick up in anticipation of your answer. “It’s what I wanted to ask you earlier.”

Oh. When Jimin interrupted him, that’s what he’d been trying to say: he wanted to sleep in your room to be closer to you. To protect you.

“Yeah,” you agree easily. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Sharing beds wasn’t a big deal for you. You’d grown up in a flat with your mom and had shared a bed with her til she’d been taken from you. Then in foster homes with too many kids and not enough resources, you’d had to double- and sometimes even triple- up. It was a matter of convenience and space.

Hoseok’s tail gives a little wag and he nods, happy with your decision.

“Great!” Seokjin cheers weakly. “Now can someone please help me lie down.”

It’s Hoseok that helps the stag hybrid up the stairs and into bed. He’s stronger than you and taller, so it only makes sense. You show Jeongguk to his new room and stay with him for a few minutes while he feels it out, making sure it’s safe. It’s only once he’s sequestered himself under the covers and dismissed you that you leave, closing the door quietly behind you as the rabbit hybrid settles down for some much needed sleep. You turn to head back for the stairs- but you find Yoongi at the other end of the corridor, staring you down. You stare back. He swallows.

“Can we talk?” He asks, his voice quieter than you ever remember hearing it.

You give a little nod. “Yeah,” you assent. “We need to.”

He meets you halfway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers and his gaze anywhere but on your face. The seconds stretch out and you exhale, closing your eyes. “Yoongi, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interjects. “About what happened in the elevator. It was disrespectful and immature. I won’t do it again.”

You balk at him. You’d honestly expected him to tell you you were being childish for reacting so strongly to it when you’d told him he could mark you whenever he was ready. But he hadn’t. He shuffles back a few steps, his head still low.

“Well, that was all I wanted to say to you, so-”

“Do you understand?” You ask him. He stops short. “Do you understand why I was upset?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you see a little furrow between his gray eyebrows. “Because I marked you.”

“No,” you insist, emphatically. “I was upset because it didn’t feel like you were doing it for me.” He does look up at you then, yellow eyes unreadable. “It didn’t feel like you were marking me because we’re friends or you wanted me to be a part of your group. It felt like you were doing it to show off in front of Namjoon and Hoseok.” You swallow. “And that hurt my feelings.” It feels good to say. It feels good to talk about.

He lets out a little chirp of distress. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he rasps. “I just-” He rakes a hand back through his hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, I just felt like if I didn’t do something right then you’d get bored of me and send me away. I thought you’d replace me with them.”

Your heart twists. You know the feeling more intimately than you’d like to admit. You reach out, hesitantly and squeeze Yoongi’s arm. “Yoongi, I’m not gonna send you away. Ever. It’s important to me that you know that. Unless you wanna go, you can stay. There’s room enough for all of you.”

“No there’s not, that’s why we’re sharing rooms,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes and let out a little chuckle. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The corner of his mouth curls up at the playful insult. After a moment, he speaks. “I don’t, for the record,” he says. “Wanna go, I mean.” He stares down into your face, yellow eyes intense. The seconds drag on and something between the two of you grows tight. He leans down, face nuzzling the soft spot between your ear and your jaw. He huffs. “Bunny scented you,” he mutters, tail flicking in annoyance, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re relieved.

“He was afraid in the car,” you answer softly. “I think it helped.” Your hands slip from his arms around his back and he purrs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him make that sound. It sends warm vibrations through your whole body and you giggle. Yoongi smiles against your skin and your heart leaps. He’s never smiled around you before. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You know it’s there. “Do you want to try again?”

Yoongi exhales, his breath warm on your neck. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to the side for him. “You can.”

This time is different, you can feel that from the onset. His fingers wrap gently around your hips and he nuzzles into your skin. He nips lightly at the skin below your ear, the corner of your jaw, all down the column of your neck until he reaches the spot where it joins your shoulder. He hums, wraps his arms around you fully and pulls you flush against the hard line of his body. Your breath hatches and you can practically hear your heart thudding traitorously in your chest.

It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself as he laves his rough tongue against your feverish skin. It’s not a big deal; marking isn’t sexual. This isn’t a big deal, there’s no need to be nervous or get- the points of his teeth scrape over the mark before he laps at again and you have to bite back a whimper. Your knees feel a little weak- that is, until Yoongi slots his thigh between them, keeping you up while he finishes his work. Your hands ball up into fists in the fabric of his t shirt and you grit your teeth together with the effort of keeping quiet. He pulls off your neck with a wet pop and you swear you’re imagining it when he presses a final kiss to his mark. He noses your ear, still purring and you think he’s gonna mark you more- but then his warmth is gone and his standing before you, eyes a little hazier but no worse for wear.

He reaches up and flicks you in the forehead. You grumble at him, covering the spot up with your hands before he can do it again. A lazy smirk spreads out on his face. “Welcome to the family,” he drawls. Then he’s turning on his heel and heading back to his shared bedroom. “Don’t wipe this one off this time, okay?”

You nod mutely after him as he disappears, your hand cupping your mark. “What was that?” You wonder. You descend the stairs in a daze, your mind whirling. None of your research had told you creating a mark would be like that. You’d thought it was a quick thing and Yoongi had just been showboating for the canines. Even in the videos you watched, the hybrid had leaned in close to the human, given then a few quick swipes with their tongue and moved on. Then again, those hybrids had all been domesticated dog or cat breeds. “Are exotics different?” You muse, turning the handle to your bedroom- and promptly tripping over someone.

This time, you don’t go all the way down. You make it halfway before Hoseok catches you. “Ah, I’m sorry, Y/N!” The dog hybrid whines, fussing over you as he sets you back to rights. “I’ll do better about staying out of your way, I promise-”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, trying to stop him from fretting. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” You survey the floor of your bedroom. It seemed like in his security sweep earlier, Hoseok had found the linen cabinet and made use of the spare blankets. His pillow and a comforter are set up in a little pallet on the floor in front of your door. It seems he’d been putting the final touches on it when you’d stumbled over him. “Hoseok…” you start slowly. The Doberman looks at you, ears pricked up. “Hoseok, I wasn’t expecting you to sleep on the floor.”

He cocks his head to the side, doglike even in his confusion. “Then where…?”

“The bed is big enough,” you say, gesturing to the queen sized bed dominating the center of the room. “I don’t mind sharing if you’re comfortable with it.”

His adam’s apple bob’s in his throat as he swallows, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Yeah, I’m comfortable with it.”

You nod and pat him on the shoulder, passing him as you head to bed. “Come on, then.” You collapse onto your bed face-first and slip back under the covers with a groan. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap before I’ve gotta get up and deal with stuff…”

The room is quiet, but somewhere in it, you can hear Hoseok shuffling around. “Maybe I should check to make sure everything is safe one more time?”

You exhale, your eyes slipping shut. “Hoseok…”

“Did you lock the front door after you came in? I think the rabbit...Jeongguk was the last one in? I don’t remember him locking-”

“Hope, bed. Now.” He doesn’t say anything else, but a few seconds later, you feel the far side of the bed dip with his weight. You sigh as he shifts to get under the blankets and you snuggle down further into your pillow. “Sleep well, Hobi.”

He mumbles something under his breath about security being a serious issue, but you don’t catch it. You’re already halfway to dreamland.