#but I fear for my kindle
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darke-faerie · 2 months ago
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Update - we've just got to the start of the Banyue Pass arc, I have almost exhausted my supply of spoilers (the end is very blurry in my mind so that's not helping lol) and Mam (she's in her 60s) keeps telling me how 'the boys in this are prettier than girls'
Also she keeps telling me off when I stop at us 3-4 eps a day (well, yesterday we had a visitor, and today crunchyroll crashed lol)
Please wish me all of Hua Cheng's luck, I am starting Heaven Official's Blessing with Mam... we are about ten mins in and I've paused like 5 times just to explain spoilers to her... (she likes spoilers so this was to be expected)
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domripley · 2 months ago
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I need to get up and get my shit ready for tomorrow and Monday but I don’t wanna get up
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hrina · 9 months ago
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the chokehold that bride by ali hazelwood has on me.............
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bravevolunteer · 11 months ago
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i bought the fucking fnaf movie novel. i apologize in advance!
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fortheloveofred · 2 years ago
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This will never not be my most favorite scene in all of Archie.
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delicatepoets · 2 years ago
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amaz*n is so SICK for giving you the option between next day delivery for $164737374 more or get it a week later w free shipping…. like??? if you have it ???? just gimmie 🤲
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autistic-fuckwad · 1 year ago
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I think I needed to hear that, just from another person's mouth again. To think of it makes me tear up.
i made a little quiz. it has gentle wisdom to take with you. whatever i can give you is yours. love u. take the wisdom & run.
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pseudowho · 1 month ago
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You could have walked to the café to meet Nanami Kento alone; you'd have preferred to, in truth, walking slowly in slow drizzle.
Instead, He walked you there, pushing through the tinkling door that He held for you, begrudgingly, as if you should be grateful. You could not look up to meet Kento's eye.
When you did look up to see Kento, stood waiting for your pre-mission meeting, He pulled your gaze back with a scowl, and a grab of your jaw.
Kento caught whispered berating; mumbled pleas.
"--just a work meeting...please--"
"--you remember to text me. You'll do well to remember you're mine."
You jolted from His pat-slap to your cheek, too sharp to be affectionate but too weak to turn heads. Still, humiliation festered on your face, putrefaction laid by His hand.
Kento remained unmoved, passively unthreatened by His filthy glance before He retreated from the shop. Something dark stirred in Kento's gut. The malice was not meant for you.
You sat at the table, wordless, your cold hands wrapping around a coffee which seemed to be, curiously, your exact order. Already here. Already waiting. Just for you.
Kento pulled his own chair out, sitting opposite you, one long tan-trousered leg crossing over the other. You looked down, your eyes cast in shadow. Kento looked to the insidious, gloomy drizzle outside, his sharp features cast sharper by the midday lamplight.
Eventually, achingly smooth, his voice called you home.
"What does 'mine' mean to you?"
You looked up at him, blinking. Your brain ticked.
"I don't...I don't know."
Kento was quiet again, leaning back in his armchair beneath the arching lamp, regarding the rain as though it watered his thoughts. He spoke again; you hung onto every word.
"When I was a boy, my grandfather left me a diamond."
The coffee shop buzz dimmed, and slowed, and muted. Kento captivated you so easily. The world fell away. Here he was. Already here. Already waiting. Just for you.
"It was...exquisite-- the diamond. The best and the brightest. A beauty amongst beauties." Kento took a deep breath in through his nose, feeling your cold little heart slow. "I didn't deserve it. It was...a privilege, to call it mine. A mantle that I bowed my head to bear."
Your fingers loosened around your coffee as Kento continued. His voice strained, aching for something.
"I could never be enough for the diamond, so I...I would build my life around it. Not in spite of it, but because of it. I hesitate to say I possessed it; it was no painting, or ivory box. Its beauty was far too timeless to be owned, for this diamond's beauty would outlive us all. If not in body, at least in memory."
The air felt light in your lungs, and you with it, as if you floated on helium, high and sweet. You yearned to reach for what was not yours. Your little voice spoke up, braver in Kento's ambient warmth.
"Tell me...tell me more."
Kento obliged. "On days when my diamond was dull, without its shine, I'd polish it more. I'm...gentle. I know it better than my own skin, and by the time I'm done, it sparkles."
Your eyes drifted closed to trap your sorrow. Your head bowed down, as if to be a diamond in daydream.
"On days when it shines-- and, god it does shine-- I can only step back and admire it, while it takes its time in the sun. They...deserve each others' beauty, the sun and she, and I would wither and rot if I kept them from each other. My diamond...my diamond deserves the world, and it deserves her."
Kento leaned forwards, now. His ambient warmth kindled higher until you burned as though he were the sun, and you yearned to blossom.
"I fear its loss; I am only, of course, a man, and I couldn't expect others not to covet such treasure, and so I keep it close. I would bring it to my bed, if only it would let me. I'd hold it in my sheets, if I did not fear I would sully it by my proximity alone."
Your lips parted so briefly, your objections snagging on your teeth to remain upon your tongue. Your heart weighed down with mercury and lead. Kento's voice could not be more than a whisper, and yet, with the steam-arm shrieks and the tamping chatter muted to insignificance, you could hear him.
"I would surround her with other beautiful things; not costly things, not necessarily, as if material goods were needed to enhance her. But rather, those things, and only those things that compliment her as she compliments them, be they wildflower or fairytale or fine wine."
Your coffee salted with the drop of a tear from your bowed face. Kento turned aside from your tears; not to disregard them, but to allow their trails to bloom as if creeping wisteria-- growth, in grief. A handkerchief slid across the table to you in one broad, calloused hand, and Kento sounded physically pained.
"Eventually, as I age, I recognise that all I was, am, and will be, can be traced back to such a diamond; not because I could not live without it-- that wouldn't be accurate. Rather, because, with the diamond removed from the equations which make the sum of me, the equations would unravel-- nothing would make sense, and if I ever tried to replace it, I would always come up short. I would never find the answer again. If I were to lose it...I could only surmise that I did not deserve it, like...like a prophecy fulfilled. It is not mine, and it will never be, if I seek to possess it."
As you fought the urge to gasp for air, Kento's voice grew bitter, snide. You caught the sharp edge of a blade; the darkness that reminded you that he could be a dangerous man.
"Men who use 'mine' for their partners are less than a stone's throw from boys who would use 'mine' for a toy car or a set of dominoes. As if...as if they are a thing to be played with, and jealously possessed, until they are discarded and forgotten."
Your coffees cooled in the chilly aftermath of Kento's monologue. Your purpose for meeting was forgotten. You were numb-footed as you stood, and followed Kento outside to the rain in the shelter of his great umbrella. He offered you an arm, and you took it, tucked close to his body.
It was curious, you thought, as Kento walked you to the train station. Arm in arm was less intimate in the eyes of society than hand in hand, but the hold was so much more intimate upon the body of the receiver.
Kento closed his fingers around yours, gently refusing, as you offered him back his handkerchief. He waited until you were beneath shelter, and did not turn to walk away until you did. Your heart pounded. Your body and mind were alive with sweet botanicals and promise. You turned on a pinhead, calling back up the subway steps.
"Kento! Did you...do you really have a...a diamond like that?"
A pause in wet footsteps. Fine needles of rain upon his umbrella. Kento called back.
"Sadly, no. It's only a dream. But if I did have that diamond...well. I would be proud to call her mine."
Your heart would surely burst. You couldn't breathe. Your cold little hand clasped the handrail on the stairs, and you sought to deny Kento's morbid prophecy.
"You could...you could steal it. A...a diamond. Your diamond."
A smile, and a hum.
"I could. Perhaps I shall. Perhaps...soon."
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archerinventive · 2 months ago
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“And one day she discovered that she was fierce, and strong, and full of fire, and that not even she could hold herself back because her passion burned brighter than her fears.” -Mark Anthony
Starting off this week with another photo from Kindle NW where I discovered my new love of doing fire in a long, wooshy coat. ^^
Still can't get over how fun it was to be on the beach, with so many empowering people.
Wishing you all a bad@ss week. Stay fierce my friends. 🖤
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myjetpack · 4 months ago
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Two more cartoons about my fear of taking too few books on holiday. (Yes, I could get a kindle: but I still prefer to read, and draw, paper books).
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br0kenangel · 3 months ago
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lady lannister especial shot: a look at Aegon's future and his relationship with his father.
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The throne room was empty, save for the towering figure seated on the Iron Throne and the young man who strode purposefully down the long aisle, his boots echoing off the cold stone floor. The braziers lining the walls flickered weakly, casting long shadows that danced eerily around the room, giving the ancient seat of power an even more foreboding presence.
King Viserys, looked diminished atop the Iron Throne. His once-silver hair had been gone, and his flesh had taken on a sickly pallor. He coughed into a handkerchief, the sound wet and rattling, before he managed to lift his weary gaze to his eldest son.
“Aegon,” Viserys greeted, his voice strained. “You wished to speak with me?”
Aegon was a young man, but there was nothing soft about him. His face was a mask of cold calculation, his eyes sharp and unforgiving, as if he was already measuring the weight of the crown that would soon be his. His golden hair, streaked with the faintest hints of silver, fell neatly over his shoulders, and he wore his Targaryen heritage with pride, the black and red of his house draped elegantly over his strong frame.
“Yes, Father,” Aegon said, his voice steady, controlled. He approached the throne but did not kneel. Instead, he stood tall, his gaze never wavering from his father’s. “We need to discuss the succession.”
Viserys sighed, a deep and weary sound, as though the very mention of the word drained the life from him. “Aegon, we have spoken of this before. Rhaenyra is my heir. The realm has accepted it, and she is—”
“The realm,” Aegon interrupted, his tone sharp but respectful, “has accepted it because you command them to. But command is not the same as loyalty, Father. And loyalty is fleeting when the crown sits on a head they do not respect.”
Viserys’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of the old king’s fire kindling in their depths. “You speak of your sister, your future queen, your blood.”
Aegon’s lips curled into a thin smile, but it was devoid of warmth. “I speak of the future of our house, of the Targaryen legacy. Rhaenyra is… a fool, a disgrace. She is ruled by her emotions, not by her mind. And she is surrounded by weak men who whisper in her ear, feeding her delusions of grandeur.”
Viserys shifted on the throne, discomfort evident in his aging features. “Daemon is no weak man. He is her husband and a seasoned warrior. He would protect her claim.”
“Daemon is a loose sword,” Aegon countered swiftly, stepping closer to the throne. “Unpredictable. Dangerous. And too proud to bend the knee to anyone—even his own wife. He would rather see the realm burn than bow to a throne he believes should be his.”
Viserys opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat as another fit of coughing wracked his body. Aegon waited, impassive, watching his father’s struggle with an almost clinical detachment.
When Viserys finally regained control, his breath came in shallow gasps. “Rhaenyra… is my chosen heir. She has always been.”
“And yet, many in the realm do not see it that way,” Aegon replied coolly. “They see her sons—bastards born of Harwin Strong, and they question her virtue. They question her sons’ legitimacy. They question your judgment, Father.”
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, silence reigned between them. Viserys’s grip on the arms of the Iron Throne tightened, the sharp edges of the swords that made up the chair biting into his flesh, drawing thin lines of blood.
Aegon’s eyes flickered to the blood, and his expression hardened. “The realm needs strength. It needs a king who commands respect, not through decrees and titles, but through action, through fear if necessary. A king who will not hesitate to do what must be done to secure the future of our house and family.”
Viserys studied his son, the stern lines of his face revealing nothing. “And you believe you are that king?”
“I know I am,” Aegon said without hesitation. “Rhaenyra’s rule would only lead to division, to bloodshed. The realm would tear itself apart, and House Targaryen would fall. But under my rule… the realm will be united. They will follow me because they know there is no other choice.”
The silence that followed was suffocating, the weight of the conversation pressing down on both men. Viserys closed his eyes, as if trying to summon the strength to stand against the tide that was his son. But he was old, and the years had worn him down. His once-clear vision of the future now seemed clouded, uncertain.
“Aegon…” Viserys’s voice was softer now, tinged with the sadness of a man who had lived long enough to see the end of his dreams. “I have always sought peace for this realm. I wanted to leave behind a legacy of unity, not of division.”
“Peace is the dream of the weak,” Aegon said, his tone almost pitying. “Peace is a lie that men tell themselves when they are too afraid to do what must be done. We are dragons, Father. We are not meant for peace. We are meant to rule.”
Viserys’s eyes opened, and for a moment, the king who had sat the Iron Throne with the might of his house behind him, seemed to return. He looked at Aegon with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.
“It is not for you to decide. It is for me, as your king, to command.”
“And what happens when you are no longer here to command?”
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Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3 ♡ Part 4 ♡ Part 6
@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃��𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.
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solkara · 5 months ago
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❛ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 , benjicot blackwood ❜
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⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , you were the apple of your family's eye a rare gem they would do anything to protect but sometimes even the purest doves crave something bloody
⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , benjicot blackwood x fem! velaryon / strong! reader
⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , benji with the 10 seconds of screen time ateee tbh or wait is it not benji cuz I've heard some people say it's not so plz explain cuz I'm so confused lmfao !!
house of the dragon masterlist
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⌗ you were a bastard. born from a night of passion shared between you mother and father. rhaenyra and daemon. but no one would ever call you a bastard. as you bore all the features of a targaryen unlike your siblings. white hair purple eyes. the seven kingdoms called you aemma reborn. as your striking resemblance to your late grand mother was uncanny.
⌗ growing up life was easy. your mother and grandsire doted on you. your siblings would go to the ends of the known world for you. ser harwin and leanor though not your real fathers stepped up and were there for you whenever you needed them. and though you had never met your real father your mother told you that he would love you.
⌗ truth be told there was nothing that daemon more than to be with you. his daughter. his oldest. but he settled for watching from afar for now. hearing about all of your achievements in pentos. how you had claimed the creeping death amaris. a dragon that had never been claimed and was rumored to be from balerion's final clutch. and it showed. as amaris was the largest dragon around. making vaghar look petite. and while daemon couldn't help but be the proudest man in the known world. part of him breathed a sigh of relief that his daughter didn't get hurt.
⌗ life was good. as you grew older tales of your beauty spread far and wide. from winterfell to dorne. you had suitors from all over flock to offer their hand. from dresses to castles. they offered it all. but were ultimately shut down by either your mother or grandsire. even the queen alicent tried offering the hand of one of her sons. but that idea fizzled out after diftmark. though it was still obvious that both of the queen's son's still bore a certain mixture of fondness and lust for you.
⌗ the deaths of harwin and laenor broke you. and after the the harrowing night of having to watch aemond lose an eye. you were exhausted. your eyes red and with no tears left to cry. you walked off to find your mother after having just finished packing. only to find her with an unfamiliar man. "mother?" you asked approaching with caution.
⌗ "my darling girl I want you to meet someone this is daemon your father" and for a moment your heart stopped as you looked at the man before you. you had dreamed for so long for the day that you would finally meet your father. and now it was here you didn't know what to do. but fear not as daemon took matters into his own hands. pulling you into his embrace which you gladly accepted. finally you left complete.
⌗ after that time seemed to fly by. your mother and father got married. your brother got betrothed to your half-sisters. and all of you lived happily on dragonstone together. with you and your siblings going for frequent dragon rides together. teaching them high valyrian. listen to your father's many stories he gained from his travels. and letting your mother braid your hair while the two of you giggled about the newest gossip.
⌗ though there was one topic she would never touch. and there were suitors. as princess rhaenyra had received hundreds if not thousands of offers for her daughter's hand. which she all denied. at one point there were so many that daemon restored to using a large chunk of them as kindle for the fire in their room. claiming "none of those vile pig's are good enough for my daughter" to which the heir agreed. the last thing she wanted was for her beloved daughter to be used by some lord as a broodmare.
⌗ but rhaenyra knew that she would have to wed her daughter off at some point. and that scared her. though her eldest was the blood of a dragon. you were gentle and soft. the apple of her eye and the thought of you being hurt. by a man nonetheless made her heart clench. and daemon agreed swearing he would rip any man. regardless of who. if they tried anything with their daughter. which was easy to say as the royal couple were under the impression their daughter's interest hadn't been caught by anyone. but oh how wrong they were.
⌗ see you had indeed had your eyes set on someone. who's name happened to be ben. the first time you saw him was at your name day tourney. where he jousted against a lannister. and won much to your joy. before going on to win the tournament. after asking for your favour. which you gladly gave. and you couldn't help but blush. as you couldn't deny he was attractive. even if he was covered in someone else's blood.
⌗ and so began the beautiful friendship between the two of you. as you went from secret love letters sent by ravens. to flying to see him whenever you could. truth is you were head over heels for him. just as he was for you. you were two half's that made a whole. twin flames if you will. and ben had made it clear that he would give you the world and that all you had to do was ask for it. a sentiment which you reverberated. the two of you had talked about a life together. married and with kids. now all you had to do was tell your parents.
⌗ but oh boy when you decided to tell them. was that an interesting conversation. your father nearly unsheathed dark sister. your mother nearly passed out in horror. your brothers were either confused or looking at benjicot like he was dragon food. and your sisters were smiling from ear to ear. but after they had all settled down you spoke. and the two of you made it very clear that you were madly in love. and after a few more threats from your father and brothers. a couple more happy tears and hugs from your mother and sisters. everyone had made peace with the fact and were overjoyed for the both of you.
⌗ and within the week news had spread to every corner of the seven kingdom's of your betrothal to the blackwood. and with was also said that the men of the kingdom's morned the loss of the chance to marry you by descending on brothels to drink and lay with whores. your uncles included. but you paid little mind. as you enjoyed life within your little bubble. spending your days with your family and benji. life was perfect. and you couldn't wait for the wedding.
⌗ and once the day finally arrived. you were jittery with nerves. dressed head to toe in white. you looked the spitting image of duty. as you walked arm in arm with your father towards the alter. the eyes of hundreds of highborns fixed on you in awe. but all you could focus on was. ben. your ben. as the two of you recited your vows with joy you sealed it with a kiss. and after the celebrations of the night. and your new husband threatening to behead anyone who dares mention a bedding ceremony. the two of you joined select family. from both side. to join for another ceremony. a traditional valyrian wedding. and as you sealed your love once more with a bloody kiss. you now truly had it all.
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anon , May I please have a targaryen! reader, daughter of daemon and rhaenyra, born after jace like she looks so much like Aemma, and the kingdom would speak of her as Aemma reborn, being favored by Viserys and her people. Can imagine her claiming a dragon that was rumored to be from the late Balerion’s clutch, a stark contrast to the other she-dragons, with her own being a ferocious creature of black scales and fire of black and red. While she is loved in her kingdom, she is also loved in her family. Much like Helaena, the reader is the apple of the kingdom’s eyes and dearer to her family more than anything. And when the topic of suitors comes, all of them are horrified when the one that catches her eye is the Bloody Ben himself, Benjicot Blackwood. ps. I’m a sucker for a beloved character whom loves someone that is the exact opposite of her 😭💖 Requesting for more familial and platonic fic with the Benjicot romance just maybe being small 😩☝️
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eratosmusings · 4 months ago
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Loyalty (II)
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!reader
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summary: your husband returns to consummate your marriage
warnings: adults only, all characters over 18, smut, oral (fem receiving), piv, arranged marriage, manipulation, abortion allusion (moon tea), lot of religious references
word count: 2.4k
previous chapter / dividers
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Daemon takes more than an hour to return. Handmaids came in his absence. They take the pins from your hair, bring fresh water and fragranced soap for a quick wash before leaving you in a single shift made of silk. You pace the stone floor as it grows cold from the dying fire. Why has he not returned?
The fire dims and dims until it is no more than a low red glow in the hearth. The silk is frigid against your skin. It chafes against your breasts in a way that has you squirming. Your husband finally returns. It appears he too has bathed and changed. Gone is his embroidered jacket and red sleeves, replaced with a simple white shirt and a simple robe hanging off his shoulders. His hair is damp and a floral scent wafts from him as he approaches.
“I’d thought you’d be in bed,” he says. 
You attempt a smile, though you fear it appears more as a grimace. Guilt weighs too heavy on the corners of your lips. The wait was intolerable but as is knowing how imminent the act is. Knowing what you must do on the morrow. “Is that where you wish me to be, my prince?”
He frowns. “I had only meant I’d thought you’d be asleep.” His eyes dart over you, only to return to and linger where the peaks of your breasts stab into the shift. "Is that all they gave you to wear, jaesa?" He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “You must be freezing.” He pulls the robe from his shoulders and comes to drape it over your own. 
More kindness that you do not deserve. You bow your head. “Thank you, my prince.”
He tisks and turns his attention to the dying fire. “Such formality.” He lowers and begins to arrange new logs over the embers. “We are married now, you must call me something more fitting. Daemon would do well.” He takes a piece of kindling and allows it to catch fire before placing it on top. “Or dear husband, perhaps.” He looks back at you. “Valzȳrys if you’d like to truly capture my heart.”
“Valzȳrys?” It slips out before the rest of his words register as you meet his lilac gaze.
“Wonderful pronunciation,” he murmurs approvingly, standing. “It means husband in Valyrian.” The fire spreads, growing brighter and casting him in its warm glow. It strikes you, rather harshly, that Daemon Targaryen is unparalleled in his beauty. You've always thought him handsome, but in the light of a blaze he is breathtaking.
“I shall try to remember,” you say through the lump in your throat. If you can never allow him children, at least you will give him the allusion of a good, dutiful wife.
His head cocks appraisingly to the side. “Come.” Your feet obey. The warmth of the fire joins the heat beginning to prickle across your skin. His gaze is searching as you come to stand in front of him and you can’t tear your eyes away. “Why wait for me to return?”
Your brows furrow at the question. It’s answer so obvious. “We have yet to consummate our marriage.”
“I did not consummate my last.” His hand comes to toy with the collar of the robe. “I refused the bedding ceremony this evening.” There’s humor in his tone. “Perhaps I did not intend to bed you at all.”
You try to match his easy banter, though there's a tremor in your voice. "Perhaps the sun will rise in the west and set in the east."
He laughs and the sound sends a flutter through your chest. What a beautiful sound. "Do you think I as wanton as a whore?”
"No!" Your hands reach for him, taking hold of his arm. It is solid in your grasp.  "I am sorry, my prince, I did not intend offense."
He laughs again, eyes crinkling. "I merely jest. Your only offense is your continued use of ‘my prince.’”
"Valzȳrys," you offer with relief, letting go of his arm, “I shall do better.”
“My sweet wife,” his other hand comes to hold your face as the first continues to fidget with the robe, “so eager to please.”
Your lips part, but the words die as his fingers follow down the edge of the robe and brush the raised peak of your breast. The sensation, torturous and intoxicating, has you gasping. He takes the distraction as invitation and captures your mouth in a harsh, bruising kiss. Your fingers curl against the cloth of his shirt. Neither to push him away nor pull him closer, but to find a tether in the unfamiliar depths his touch has plunged you into.
He pulls back slowly. Lips plush, pupils blown wide. Hands cupping your breast, thumbs stroking the peaks. Overwhelming, sinful need steals your thoughts. Your eyes squeeze shut. You can't breathe. Your entire focus is on remaining standing. 
"Tell me, jaesa, have you ever touched yourself here before?"
Speech is too difficult. Your head shakes.
"Have you ever dreamt of it?"
Another shake. You had not known it could be used for pleasure. Air greets your lung like a knife when one of his touches disappears.
"How about here?" A hand dips under the hem of your shift, skims along your thighs.
You shake again.
His nose edges along your jaw. "Here? His fingers glide along the apex.
You jolt. No. Never. The words don't make it past your lips. They're trapped somewhere in the shock, the pleasure.
"No?" He speaks for you, his voice low, laced in fond mockery. "What a pure, untouched thing you are, jaesa." His mouth meets yours again. This time his kiss is slower. A whimper leaves you, unbidden, when his tongue sweeps against your bottom lip. His touch continues to move along your most intimate of places. It’s intoxicating.
He draws back, forehead pressing against yours. His breathing is heavy, matching yours. “Now I wish for you to be on the bed.” 
The air feels like ice as he steps away, leaving you bereft of his warmth. You turn, seeking the bed, and stumble forward. Your toe catches on the edge of a table. The pain is sharp and you nearly drop to the floor.
Daemon's arms wrap around you. "Careful."
His touch is maddening. "Yes, valzȳrys."
There's a sound that seems to stick in his throat. Your feet are no longer on the ground. "The bed, jaesa." A surprised giggle leaves as you fall back on the bed. It's plush, more so than your own. And warm. Daemon climbs over you, bracing his weight on his forearms. The firelight casts his features in a soft glow, giving the illusion of gentleness.
He presses his lips against yours, hungry. Your hands cling to his arms. A small moan vibrates from him. There's a firmness pressing into the apex of your thighs. The pressure is nearly as wonderful as his fingers had been. You arch towards him. He presses back.
Then he's gone. Your mouth falls open in protest, a small sound escaping. Daemon sits on the edge of the bed. He’s smug as he tugs off the simple shirt. He stands and drops his trousers, revealing more of his toned physique. Your cheeks burn. His member, juts up proudly. You swallow and avert your gaze. Surely, that cannot fit inside of you.
"Does my cock offend you?"
"No," you say quickly. "It is," your mouth sticks like you'd eaten too much honeyed bread, "large."
He laughs boisterously. "You will find, sweet wife, that it is a gift." He kneels back on the bed, his hands grasping at the hem of your shift. Your eyes snap up. His dance with mischief. "May I remove this?"
Your throat is dry. You nod. The fabric lifts. Your limbs move as they're told. You help him rid you of the silk. The air is cold.
"Beautiful."
Your body trembles under his gaze.
"Lie back."
Your body obeys. His hands slide down your thighs, pushing them apart. Then he is between your legs, kissing his way up your inner thigh. Your mind reels. No one had told you this part. When his mouth finally meets the place his fingers had toyed with earlier, you wonder how anyone could not enjoy this.
A gasp fills the air. Your hands fly to his head, tangling in his hair. Divinity lies between his teeth.
"I have decided," he whispers against your flesh, “that your taste is far better than any berry’s.”
Your hips roll of their own accord. He groans, his grip tightening on your thighs. Then he is back to licking. Your eyes screw shut and your hands grip tighter. There’s a pressure building. The tightness nearly unbearable.
"Valzȳrys," the plea is breathless. You don’t know what you’re asking for, but he must. 
He hums and the vibrations have you bucking. His mouth continues its silent prayers. Your eyes beg to close, but the glow of his lilac gaze refuses such a sin. He watches, equally as enraptured, as he pushes you higher and higher. Ecstasy. You cannot breathe, cannot move. His name, his title, every version of him, is on your tongue, begging. The pressure cracks your walls until they crumble and it is blasphemy that leaves your lips. A moment passes with the wave that follows and then another, your body trembling. The pleasure is slow to subside. His tongue has eased, but continues with languid strokes. Warmth tingles across all of you. His eyes have not given you leave.
Slowly his mouth leaves your sex. A whine leaves you at the loss. "Are you well, sweet wife?" His mouth glistens and the bed shifts as he crawls over you.
"Mhmm," you reply, letting your hands fall from his hair. More than well.
His lips curve, pleased, as they meet yours. They taste nothing near as sweet as a berry. Something presses against you. His member—his cock as he called it. His lips travel down your neck. "Are you ready?"
This is where the pain shall be. Perhaps so terrible it makes all you've done forgettable. There's no other reason you can think of that women would hate it after the pleasure you'd just received. But it is duty. At least, you must keep the appearance of it. You take a deep breath and nod. "Yes, Valzȳrys."
He presses forward and the stretch is uncomfortable. He pushes and a burn begins that makes you squirm. There's a pause."Forgive me," he breathes then his mouth returns to yours. A sharp, awful pain tears through you as his hips slam forward. Your vision blurs with the sting of tears. Your nails dig into his arms.
"The worst is over," he promises
You nod at his falsehood, still unable to see, and attempt to slow your breathing. It is for naught as the pain continues with the movement of his hips. The gods punishment for your sins, even the ones you've yet to truly commit. He whispers something that could be an apology and kisses the tears from your cheeks. You do not say anything. To suffer this for him is your duty.
"Breathe, jaesa. Just breathe."
You force yourself to match his rhythm. Breathing deep, his steady strokes begin to dull the ache. The tenseness in your muscles begin to release. There is some pleasure hidden beneath the discomfort.
"That's it," he encourages, his hand snaking between you.
You cry out as he circles his fingers sending a new wave of ecstasy through you. It spreads like Wildfire. You don't understand. It's supposed to be awful. How can it feel so wonderful?
"I am not a man of patience," he lets his forehead rest against yours, "but these sounds were worth the wait."
"Valzȳrys," your eyes shut and the pleasure builds. It drowns out any lingering discomfort. Only cries of prayers and profanities filling the room as his movements grow more erratic.
His breath stutters. It sounds as if he curses in Valyrian, though you cannot be sure. Then he stops, retreats, and leaves you painfully empty. Something warm and heavy falls across your stomach in thick strings. Your eyes open to his. Breathing ragged. Hair damp with sweat. He presses a kiss against your temple. "I shall bring the basin."
Your brow furrows. "Are we done?" Your body still tingles, tense again. Anticipation rather than pain.
His eyes crinkle but he says nothing, climbing from the bed. Your eyes stay glued to him. It's an enticing view. He returns to the bed with the basin in hand and sits beside where you lay. You know that the seed should sit for a while before it's cleaned away to ensure it takes. That's what the Septa had said. You do not repeat it to Daemon.
The rag is cold and your gasp at the contact leaves your husband issuing a humored apology. He wipes between your legs first, tinging the rag red, before cleaning the seed from your stomach in short, slow swipes. When satisfied, he sets the bowl on the floor and lays beside you. You wonder how you'll be able to sleep when your body still pulses with desire.
"Straddle my face."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Straddle my face," he repeats, "as if you were mounting a horse."
You think you understand the intention, but it seems unnecessarily dangerous. Could he not simply lie between your legs again? "But I will hurt you." Or suffocate him
"You will not."
He helps guide your leg across him, settling your knees on either side of his head. "Lower yourself, do not deny me your taste," he commands. His hands grip your thighs and you obey. He groans. The sound is muffled and then his mouth is back on your sex.
It is different. Not better, not worse, but different. Your body sings and hands fist in his hair. Your husband's tongue is skilled. A blessing instead of the curse you'd been told. For he has you quaking in only a few flicks. Pleasure courses through you like lightning. Yes, his years in pleasure houses were as divinely ordained as your years kneeling in the Sept. Your chest heaves as he coaxes out a final shudder.
When you can breathe again, he grins at you from between your thighs. The image deserves its own depiction in stained glass. "Now, I believe we are done."
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multifandomme · 2 months ago
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Carmine
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Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader
Summary: A lesson learnt?
Genre: Smut, (breathplay, degradation, power dynamics, thigh riding, pet names, praise kink, daddy kink, prentiss in crotchless panties), not suitable for minors.
Word Count: 1.7k.
This piece is for day 6 of kinktober under the 'lingerie' prompt.
More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.
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A carmine silhouette flooded your vision as you entered the bedroom, the distinct scent of smoke fizzling from a cigarette that dangled from her fingers. Emily regarded you with a knowing smirk having instantaneously secured your undivided attention, the intricate lace adornments fixated below your gaze as an air of suspicion cast its shadow. Beneath the subtlety of the surrounding candlelight, Emily was elysian, skin aglow with the gentlest spark of orange. 
On the exterior, the scene oozed romance, her motives unsullied, though you knew that this was merely a distraction tactic of the deliberate kind. No, she was in pursuit of ridding a very particular memory from your mind. 
Emily’s stare was unwavering as she sucked in another mouthful of smoke, wordless temptation suspended in the space between you. Daringly, she widened her thighs, offering a fleeting glimpse of what lay below, purposefully long enough for you to deduce that her panties were crotchless. Subconsciously, your tongue swiped across your lips and for a split second, the upper hand found itself in her possession. 
“You look hungry,” she lured, sexily, her free hand meandering until it settled between her legs, two fingers trailing across her exposed flesh in a valiant attempt at seducing you. “Why don’t you come and have a taste, hm?”
Deviously, she plucked the cigarette from her lips, replacing its absence with her arousal-covered digits, suckling them clean with sounds of zeal, excitement, eyes peeking open to assure your continual supervision of her. And she need not have questioned your observation of her for a second, engrossed in a way so resolute that you were almost tempted to set aside your plans and relinquish to senseless desire. 
“You really think you deserve my mouth on you?” You asked, stoically, a wry chuckle tumbling out of you when you noted the sudden disappearance of her smug little simper. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you did, sweetheart?”
A conspicuous glimmer of fear, of doubt materialised upon her face and only added to your entrancement of her. She gulped audibly, but the inadvertent display of nervousness was soon dismissed with a slight shake of her head.
“I wish I could help you,” she shrugged, feigning ignorance, her gaze averted as she discarded her cigarette into the ashtray upon the bedside table. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A conceited smile remained bitten behind pursed lips, paled as she crawled to the edge of the bed to gain closer proximities, to rile you further you assumed. 
“I had a very enlightening conversation with Doug Bailey,” you revealed, frankly, stepping forwards to clasp her jaw within your hand and observing as her irises kindled with lust. “He told me all about the clever little stunt you pulled today in the interrogation room.”
The harshened force that you had exerted around her jaw did nothing to deter her biting remarks, a grin activating, sizzling stabs of adrenaline piercing into you in response to her defiance. 
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” she denied, cockily, her attitude beginning to hack away at your self-control. 
“How convenient,” you growled, releasing her abruptly to curl a finger below her chin, drawing her towards you until your lips were just short of making a connection with hers. “Apparently, Mommy put on a hell of a show for one lucky murderer.”
Emily hummed in faux surprise, her eyes widening to garnish the masquerade into believability. It was a game to her, always had been, bumping up against the boundary until you forcibly yanked her away from it. She never won, never had, though it never prevented her from playing, if anything, it only seemed to heighten the appeal. 
“But you didn’t stop there,” you husked, a tinge of anger pricking at your composure. “No, you unbuttoned your shirt for him, didn’t you, baby?” You questioned, hotly, your jaw flexing with intensity. “And bent all the way over that interrogation table so he could take a good, hard look at you.” 
The sound of cachinnation blurted out to hinder the flitting silence, ebbing out once Emily recognised the familiarity of the expression that you were sporting, wrathful, unpredictable. She leaned in, enticingly, her mouth agape and breezing air against your lips with each lengthened exhale, as if she was mustering the courage to do something that was certain to induce a marked response. 
“It worked like a charm,” she admitted, boldly, her words kissing against you. “You should have seen the way he looked at me,” she continued, fixed, unafraid, her eyes falling to a close with a contented sigh, as if she was recalling it with fondness to incite maximal rage. “If Bailey wasn’t behind the glass, I bet he-“
Emily’s sentence was forsaken to be stolen away, her breath held captive by your sturdy hand enfolded around her throat. She spluttered, let out a wavering gasp, her consciousness waning and re-emerging with the varying pressure that you applied. 
“Oh, I’ll bet,” you gnarled, viciously, a maniacal smirk fused to your lips as you basked in her state of incapacitation, admired her in all of her glory. “Did you like it, huh? Whoring yourself out for a criminal?” You probed, intimidatingly, your hand mirroring the force of your words, constricting until an almost undetectable squeak escaped her. “Is that what you are, baby? A whore?"
Emily’s thighs pressed snugly together as she knelt on the edge of the mattress, fixed in position with no way to break free of you. It was only when a reticent groan bled out into the deafening quiet that you realised that she was reaping gratification from her crafty manoeuvres. Her eyes bored into yours, scorching with allure, her mouth open as she gathered the coherency to utter a word.
“Be very careful with your next words,” you warned, thwarting her before she had the opportunity to instigate her own ruin. “Your oxygen is at my disposal, baby,” you cooed, a scoff bursting from you as Emily jolted physically at the prospect. “Wouldn’t want you to pass out now, would we?”
Emily released a pathetic whine, one that only grew in volume when you administered a squeeze of reiteration around her slender neck. She writhed lightly in your grasp, her mind wiped clean of thoughts, dizzied by the oxygen depletion with nothing but nonsensical fragments spilling from her lips.
“No,” she rasped, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes as she tried avidly to will them away. “I’m only yours, Daddy,” she insisted, fervently, despite the fact that she was breathless, weary. 
“There’s my good girl,” you extolled, loosening your hold until it vanished, Emily appearing to float away in the absence of pressure, her head bobbing around gently as its weight restored. “Now, let Daddy take a look at you, hm?”
Softly, you guided her onto her back, her pussy occluded by the arousal that had amassed during your exacerbation of her. She was swollen, desperate, so much that you almost pledged to give in, just once. 
“Please,” she murmured, completely malleable below your hands as her pussy twitched with every painstaking stroke to her clit, her back arching upward from the bed with verve. “Fuck, I need you, Daddy.”
Your sudden retreat saw her scrambling up onto her elbows to discern your whereabouts, creeping over to your newfound position against the pillows. 
“Disobedient sluts don’t get rewards, you know that, sweetheart,” you reminded, softly, your fingers caressing her silver tresses with affection. “But it would be a shame to waste those pretty panties, hm?”
Emily offered a zealous nod, her interest roused as she awaited instruction, eager to obey you. The palm of your hand met your thigh, your eyes flickering in an unspoken demand and Emily was quick to oblige as she settled herself atop it.
“Are you going to let me cum, Daddy?” She questioned, a lilt of hopefulness in her voice, her lip captured between her teeth. 
“If you behave,” you acceded, feasting on the view before you, your thigh soaked with arousal from the way her pussy smothered against your skin. “Maybe you can put on a show for me, hm, sweetheart? Since you are so good at it as you said.”
A testy frown tugged at her face, soon to be transformed into one of utmost enjoyment as she ground her hips down against your thigh, gyrating slowly, sensually with her eyes trained wholly on you. 
“Such a pretty slut,” you cooed, lovingly, taken by the way her hips rolled until her movement had mesmerised you, unable to draw your attention from her, not ever wanting to. “All mine.”
“Do you like it, Daddy?” She moaned, breathily, glazed over as she regarded you, her pupils blown, her jaw slackened until it hung wide to draw in shaky breaths. “Am I being, mhm… good?”
Her aura expelled warmth, her form illuminated at its edges like some kind of deity and you vowed to worship at the altar of her if it meant that you could have her like this for eternity. 
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” you assured, tenderly, your hands springing to grope at her breasts, your thumbs sliding over her lace-clad nipples just to watch her rhythm falter, propelled into sporadic chaos. “So desperate to cum for me, hm?”
Emily rutted with ardor, her clit pushing into your thigh with a rapidly mutating pace, her hands flailing to reach out for you, to attain some stability. 
“Gonna cum,” she blurted, mindlessly, her expression overtaken by the forceful craving to come undone, to find alleviation. “Can I cum, Daddy?”
“Cum for me, sweetheart,” you coaxed, intently, your hands sinking against her hip bones as a means of encouragement, observing with delight as she lost control before you, trembling. 
A guttural sound echoed out into the room, her body lurching forward in lethargy as she battled to settle her breathing. You carefully peeled away the sticky strands that obstructed her beauty, her lips painted in sanguine, swollen from the way she had buried her teeth into them so brutally. 
“Have you learned your lesson, sweetheart?” You asked, curiously, a palpable sense of unrest gnawing at you as Emily raised her head, a sly smile of pearly white greeting you. 
“Yes,” she winked, flopping into your embrace, her body aflame as it melded with yours. “And, I agree with you completely,” she clarified. “Bailey really needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut, right?"
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deepdarkdelights · 1 year ago
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As You Wish | Yoongi x Reader
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Pairing: Werewolf Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 21k
Warnings: 18+, Spice but no Smut, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Grieving, Passive Suicidality, MC experiences major depression, Non-Consensual Touching, Breaking and Entering, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Technically Cannibalism? Loss of Spouse, Loss of Child, Forced Found Family, Hunting, Mass Death, Attempted Burning and the stake, MC is hit by a man (not Yoongi)
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 
Preview: You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it. 
It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye.
A/N: I’m exhausted and grad school sucks but I really wanted to get this out for your guys. I hope you enjoy it, I spent way more time on it than I wanted to. I really thought it was only going to be 8k yet here we are…21k. Anyway, I miss all of you - sorry this is so long lol, this is SUPER UNEDITED. As usual, I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and comments, I love you and hope you enjoy 
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The sweet scent of flowers greeted your nose as you cracked open the window for the first time in months. 
Despite the warmth of sunshine and the bright green strokes of grass outside, it very well could have still been winter. It felt as if no time had passed since that fateful day. In your heart, winter still raged on. There were gnarled, ice-coated branches there and a torrent of never-ending snow. It had frozen over since then. 
You carried this sense of numbness you had never thought you would be capable of, it was as if your very soul had been corroded by frostbite. Any love or passion or warmth had been snuffed out like a match in the dark. 
That was the thing about grief, it could change a person into something that was beyond recognition. And your grief was immeasurable. 
When you got married, you never imagined your husband would die within the first year. 
It truly had been a cruel winter that year. The two of you were making do with what food you had. He had always been so smart, planning out what you could have each day so that it would last until spring. The only problem was the fire wood. No one could have anticipated how cold it was going to be and if you hadn’t burned as much kindling as you did you were certain you would have frozen to death. 
You could still remember that gentle look he had given you before he left. The soft touch of his fingers to your cheek, the gentle kiss he left you with. He still had every ounce of charm he had had as a boy. He had always been kind and sweet to you. He was the gentlest man you had ever known. That was why his death hurt even more. 
You had been worried the minute he left, but as minutes bled into hours and the winter sun quickly disappeared behind the mountains you were frightened to the bone. He had only an ax and a knife with him. He brought no food and no more clothing than what was on his back. He was planning on making a short trip and if he didn’t come back right away the chances of him surviving the night were slim to none. 
His body was found the next day. 
Honestly, you didn’t remember that day all too well. Everything was a blur, you could faintly remember hearing the voices of a few men from the village, the feeling of your raw throat after screaming senselessly, and the surplus of food and supplies that were sent your way with small slips of paper that read: “Our condolences.” 
They wouldn’t let you see his body and that was something you would never forgive them for. You didn’t care how bad it was, you wanted to see him with your own eyes and you were never afforded that closure. But you had heard enough from hushed whispers outside. 
“Pieces,” they had said. 
He had been mauled to pieces. They couldn’t even find all of him and what was left of him had huge teeth marks raked through flesh. It was an animal attack. Just like you and your husband, they were hungry. 
And now you were all alone. You were a pariah, one that people pitied, but a pariah nonetheless. You would never be able to marry again, not that you wanted to, but no one would want a widow as their wife. That was the way of things, you were meant to live out the rest of your days in solitude. Nothing more than a sad story mother’s would tell their children as you passed through the markets in silence. Your story would become a warning for children not to wander off into the woods. Your tragedy would become a lesson. 
The only lesson that you had learned was that love meant pain. You had given yourself to someone entirely, and when they had parted from you, you were left with nothing. That was the danger of love, losing yourself. 
After months of wishing you had followed him out of this world, you were hit with the sudden clarity that you were being selfish. He had left to try and save the both of you, but here you were wasting the life he had given you. He had sacrificed himself in order for you to keep living for the both of you. 
Choosing to live was so much harder than choosing to die. 
You shoved those horrendous thoughts to the back of your mind as you traveled through your small cottage, prying open every stiff window that you passed by. Living meant starting with the little things, like getting your home in order. It didn’t feel the same without him, but at least now that it was warmer out you wouldn’t have to stay inside and constantly be reminded of his absence. 
You stripped your bed, gathered up the used linens, and scooped up piles of worn clothes from the floor before depositing them in the basket. You were distracting yourself, that much you were certain of. But any distraction was welcome, you couldn’t bear the silence filled thoughts of him any longer. 
You heaved the basket up onto your hip and made for the door, pausing as you were faced with the blooming greenery beyond the threshold. The breeze was cool, the air was fresh. The world was starting over once again, why was it so hard for you? 
You shook the troubling thought from your head, squared your shoulders, and took a deep breath. You could at least try. And so, you stepped outside for the first time in months and faced the world. It was almost like nothing changed. The birds still chirped, the insects sang, and the rush of the river called from a distance. 
That was the other thing about grief. While it felt like your world ended, in reality, it still rushed onward. 
The soft grass sunk beneath your feet and sprung back to life as you walked, your body tense as you approached the forest. You weren’t going in too far, it was just the edge where the trees were still spread out and not too thick. You just needed to get to the river. But you couldn’t deny the sense of paranoia that was set in your bones. This was where he died, where he was mauled and consumed by whatever inhabited the forest. It would make sense that whatever animal that had ended his life was still prowling in the shadows, waiting for its next meal. 
“Stop it,” You snapped at yourself, your voice hoarse from lack of use and louder in the soft sounds of nature. 
You weren’t going far, you were going to be safe. There was no reason to be so anxious when you wouldn’t be putting yourself in danger. You weren’t walking into the lion's den, you were doing laundry. 
Despite your scolding, you still snapped your head in every direction when you finally reached the river. You were unsettled by every little noise, hyper aware of everything that was going on around you. For a task that was so mundane, you felt so on edge. 
The rush of icy water against your hands was enough to help you focus on the task at hand. The river had finally unfrozen. While your husband and yourself frequently bathed in the river during the warmer months, you had no plans on doing that anytime soon lest you be chilled to the bone and catch your death. Maybe when you were younger you would have risked it all for a moment of fun. But you were older now, matured by time and tragedy. It was harder to have fun now. 
You threw the shirt you were washing on a rock beside you, the force of the toss resulting in a loud, wet slap. Your body bent forward under an oppressive imaginary weight as your icy fingers braced your face, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips causing your body to sink even further. 
Living for two people was going to be even harder than you thought. Even these simple, menial tasks felt exhausting. It had been a miracle you had been able to drag yourself out of bed, that you had made it outside, that you had even journeyed to the river. But those things should be easy, so why did they feel so hard? 
You felt weak.
Useless. 
Helpless. 
You couldn’t help but think had the roles been reversed, he would have been stronger than you. He would have mourned but he would have been able to survive. He would have been able to find another wife, he would have had the children he always wanted, and he could have been happy. It was hard to not feel like it should have been you, like you were just wasting the life he had given you. It was hard to not crumble beneath the crashing waves of grief that eroded your resolve. 
It was too hard. 
A high pitched whimper broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hands dropping to your lap and your head snapping to attention. You held your breath and pursed your lips, listening closely to try and hear the sound again. 
And there it was again. Although this time it was much louder and much longer. It sounded like something was in pain. And your curiosity got the better of you. 
You shifted your basket to the side and stood, gathering your skirts in one hand as you carefully lept from stone to stone as you crossed the river. Your heart raced as you slipped once then twice, the stones slick from the rushing water, but the cries were becoming louder and closer and you felt as if you had no other choice but to find out what they were coming from. 
Once you crossed the river, you moved slowly through the grass so as to not startle whatever it was that was frightened. Every now and then you would pause and hold your breath, listening intently for the creature's cries before following them once more. You could just barely make out the shape of the animal, its body concealed by a thick underbrush of branches, leaves, and thorns. 
You dropped down to your knees with abandon and blindly reached into the shrubbery. The cries were much louder now as the creature was startled by your invading hands. Thorns raked through your flesh as you grabbed hold of the small furry body and pulled, trying your hardest to gently remove the little animal. A loud cry made you stop, halting all of your progress. It looked like it was tangled up in something. 
You quickly moved on to your second plan and softly placed the animal back down before grabbing thorn laced branches and snapping them with your bare hands. You hissed in pain as blood beaded up from the small cuts that now decorated your palms. You couldn’t fathom where this sudden rush of determination came from or why you felt like you so desperately needed to do this. That same rush that came over you to find the animal was present and even stronger with the desire to free it. You felt it on some deeper level, that you just couldn’t leave it behind. 
There was a generous pile of branches beside you now and you could very clearly see what you were dealing with. It looked like a puppy. It was very small with soft chocolate brown fur, a short nose, and the cutest pointed ears. Its big brown eyes were welled up with tears, its tail tucked between its legs, and its entire body shook in fright. 
Your horror stricken gasp was muffled as you involuntarily covered your mouth in surprise. The poor pup was tangled up in a snare. The wire was cinched tightly around its hind leg, chest, and foreleg, cutting in so tightly that blood was visible on the metal. The poor thing had run right into the trap and was stuck. You could only hope that it wasn’t intended for the puppy, that it had run into some hunter’s trap purely by accident. 
Your already lacerated hands went straight back to work trying as you attempted to untangle the snare as gently as you could. You hissed as it sliced your palms but paused only a moment to wipe the blood off on your pinafore before continuing your work. By the time you had finally managed to undo the trap, beads of sweat clung to your neck and the sun had moved a decent way across the sky. 
“There you go,” You murmured, “you’re free.” 
The puppy, although now free, didn’t move. Its deep brown eyes stared up at you as it continued to whine, its entire body still shaking with unadulterated fright. 
“Can you walk?” You asked, sitting back on your calves to get a better look at the animal.
You were shocked when it responded, in a way. The puppy attempted to stand and then walk, but it only made it two steps with a clear limp before it collapsed flat on its belly with a yipe. 
“Of course you can’t, I’m sorry,” You cooed as you reached out. Your hand paused in midair, hesitating before trying to touch the puppy. It was probably a wild dog, so it was not a good idea to go touching an animal that very well could bite you, no matter how cute it was. 
The puppy, as if it had read your mind, answered for you by leaning forward and sniffing your fingers with a cold, wet nose, before lapping at them with its little tongue. It was like any other puppy then, it wasn’t aggressive yet. 
You chewed your lip in thought as you watched the pup. It wasn’t a good idea to take in stray animals, but it was injured and leaving it in the forest would be like ringing a dinner bell for all the predators in the area. All of the blood the pup and yourself had shed was certainly not helping. And then there was the crippling loneliness of your cottage. A dog would be good for that. It would be something to share the space with, something to break up the cacophonous silence. And, when it grows older, it would be good for protection as well. The benefits outweigh the negatives you selfishly refused to think of. 
With the pup’s approval, you lifted it up and cradled it into your side much like a mother would her child. You giggled in delight from the feeling of a wet nose burrowing its way into your shoulder and neck, sniffing the cloth of your dress and your skin like it was trying to become accustomed to you. 
You crossed the river even slower now on your way back, very aware of the precious animal you were protecting. When you stopped at the river bank, you gathered your abandoned laundry and placed the puppy in the basket. You didn’t really care about the dirt, grass, and blood that would inevitably stain the fabrics - afterall, they still needed to be cleaned and you had much more pressing issues to attend to. 
You walked back with a sudden urgency in your steps, a small trill of excitement buzzing in your being. After months of isolation and misery, something so small had brought you joy, something that had been unimaginable a few hours before. 
The pup was much calmer now, softly panting instead of crying as it laid in your basket of sheets, eyeing the world that passed by as you brought the two of you back to your cottage. When you made it inside, you shut the bottom half of the door, leaving the top half open to allow fresh air in without the risk of the pup wandering out and falling down the stone steps. When you placed the basket on the ground it nosed at the sheets for a moment before limping out of the basket. 
“No, no, no, stay right there,” You chided, gently scooting it back into the sheets, “you’ll hurt yourself worse if you do that.” 
You stayed a moment, locking eyes with the pup to ensure that it would stay and understand. When you were certain that it was calmed you finally turned your back and headed into the kitchen. You rummaged through the cabinets, searching for the healing salves and creams you knew had been there months before along with the strips of makeshift bandages. 
Within mere moments of turning your back on the puppy you were alerted once more by its cries. It had tried following you again but was now laying in a heap on the floor, tangled up in the sheet and crying from the pressure it applied on its wounds. 
You dropped the bandages and rushed to the pup, cooing as you picked it up and cradled it against your chest. The little thing was an escape artist, that was certain. 
You let out a deep sigh as an uncomfortable thought brewed in your mind. It was the only option that you could think of, even though it was terribly unpleasant. Before you could dwell too much you headed towards the back of the cottage where a single door was fixed into the frame. It stuck at your first pull but relented on the second, the hinges creaking in defeat as you entered the room. 
Any furniture that was in the room was coated with a thin layer of dust having gone undisturbed for months. That old wound in your heart was bleeding around the edges now, the pain of avoided thoughts bubbling back up to the surface. 
There was a crib against the far wall of the bedroom. 
You swiftly moved to the back of the room and gently placed the pup inside the crib. The sides were high enough that the injured dog would be unable to climb over and you were confident that this was the safest place for the poor thing. 
But even that knowledge couldn’t stop tears from pricking at the corner of your eyes as your hands subconsciously cradled your belly. Your pregnancy had been short lived. Losing your husband had been the catalyst to losing your child, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. Even though the midwife had promised you it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t see how that could be true. If you had been stronger, if you had taken better care of yourself, you would have been able to save that last piece of him. 
If you hadn’t been pregnant, maybe things would have been different. Your husband would have stayed and you would have figured out how to make it through the rest of the winter. But you had been pregnant, he had left to find more resources because of that, and even though he sacrificed his life for you and your unborn child you hadn’t been able to save them. 
You couldn’t see how any of this wasn’t your fault when you were at the center of it all. 
The feeling of cool tears rolling down your cheeks shocked you back to reality. You weakly wiped the tears away, sniffed, and shook your head. You needed to clean yourself and the pup up, you had priorities. 
You rushed around the cottage, busying yourself with what needed to be done. You ran to the water pump and wet some rags, retrieved the salves and bandages, and grabbed a bowl of poultry meat for the dog. This was a welcome distraction. 
You were greeted by excited, squeaky barks when you returned to the abandoned nursery. The pup eagerly paced back and forth, its little tail wagging so hard its entire backside wiggled. You let out a gentle giggle before releasing it from the crib and sitting the two of you on the floor, pulling the pup into your lap and distracting it with a strip of meat while you assessed its injuries once more. 
You blinked once and then twice in confusion. You could have sworn the wounds had been much worse not more than half an hour ago. The slashes were still bloody and in need of tending to, but they were not the deep, gnarled gashes that had once needed stitching. You were either still out of your mind or this animal had the fastest healing time you had ever seen. 
It was much easier to believe that your mind was failing you. And so, you got to cleaning and wrapping the wounds. The pup was surprisingly well behaved, only whimpering every now and then as you touched a tender spot but it didn’t jerk away and did its best to stay still as it ate. The more time you spent with it, the more you realized it was much smarter and more aware than you had once thought. Everything about the little creature seemed eerily human when you thought about it too much. It was better to not think about it too hard. 
Trapped in your own mind, you hadn’t realized that you had finished your work. Not until you felt the gentle lap of a little tongue against the wounds that decorated your palms, jolting you back into the real world. 
You pulled your hands away with a pained hiss before reprimanding the puppy, “No, no, no, I don’t know where that mouth of yours has been. The last thing we need is an infection.”
The puppy whined in earnest and nosed at your palm once more before you pulled your hands away again and scooped the little thing back up into your arms. This way, it wouldn’t be able to mess with the cuts. 
After you tended to your palms, applying salve and wrapping them securely, you couldn’t help but notice the odd tingling you felt emanating from them. It was warm and fuzzy and completely unexplainable - your salves had never caused that sensation before. 
As time passed and the sun crossed over the sky before dipping beneath the horizon, the feeling became stronger until it was a pulse-like thrum causing your hands to tremble before steadily declining until it was nothing more than a memory. And an odd one at that. 
It was when you began to turn in for the night, that everything fell apart. 
You didn’t notice that the crickets had fallen silent nor that the wildlife of the forest had completely disappeared. You hadn’t noticed the hollow ringing that came from the wind slipping between the trees. It was the calm before the storm, and you had no idea what was coming. 
The candlelight was dim, casting soft ochre colored shadows over the wood and stone of the cottage. The puppy slept soundly in your arms. Everything was calm. 
That was of course until a howl fractured the peace. It was so loud you could have sworn you felt the floorboards shake as a rush of fright went down your spine. The soft lull of sleep was suddenly long forgotten. 
The pup in your arms stirred at the noise, its ears perking up and its head frozen in place as it recognized the sound. It was on high alert. It knew what was out there. 
You shakily stood and approached the door, the top portion of it still unlatched and swung outward.  Outside of the lamp affixed to the stone above the door, the forest was pitch black. You could barely make out the twisted shape of the trees and the brooke that had once been in sight was obscured. But, what was even stranger, was that you were certain that the shadows were moving. 
You tilted your head to the side, squinting your eyes as you tried to make out what exactly you were looking at. And then, it was close enough that the light bounced off of it and you were met with the horrifying sight of a set of bright silver eyes staring back at you from the dark. 
You were frozen in an instant. But once you realized those eyes were steadily coming closer with a hulking form attached, you acted on instinct, slamming the door shut and latching it closed. You could only hope that the door would hold against whatever that thing was. 
Your chest rose and fell with heavy pants as you became more and more unsettled. Why was it so quiet? Why couldn’t you hear something so big moving? Where was it? What direction was it coming from? Your back met the wall and your weak knees had you sliding down to the ground. 
Your entire body was shaking in pure terror. There was something out there, something massive and monstrous. You held the pup in your arms tighter, bringing it to your chest for comfort as well as protection. 
You yelped as a loud bang popped the eerie silence. Whatever it was, it was slamming its body alongside the cottage. But it wasn’t doing it mindlessly, like it thought it could break through the walls. It was purposeful, it was an attempt to frighten you and determine where you were. It was smart. 
You curled into yourself as it came closer. You could hear heavy, sharp pants in between the vicious snarls that it was making. It sounded wild, primal, and predatory. It was hunting. 
The pup in your arms began whining and wriggling around as it tried to escape your grasp and all it was doing for you was frightening you even more. All it was doing was making more noise, drawing more attention to itself. And you knew it had, the creature outside had gone silent. It was listening. 
And then chaos unraveled in seconds. 
You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it. 
It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye. 
Your body slowly began to slump to the ground, falling weak before the wolf. You looked like the perfect prey, like a rabbit that was so frightened its own heart had stopped. It seemed that the wolf thought similarly. It approached you slowly like it was still on the prowl as angry snarls left its gaping maw. You could feel your blood run cold as you caught sight of its enormous teeth, each one long enough that they could be made into daggers. Whatever this creature was, it was no mere wolf, it was something else entirely. 
Your hold on the pup was weakened as your chest and forehead met the ground, bending beneath the invisible weight of the wolf’s presence. From beneath the cover of your hair you could make out its large paws and hooked nails mere inches away from you. It was so close now that you could feel puffs of its hot breath disturb your hair and ghost over your neck. You were breaths away from death. 
You couldn’t decide if you wanted to flee or embrace it as you had once desired. 
A soft whimper involuntarily escaped you as you waited, feeling the tip of its nose brush over your head as its snarls grew louder. A sudden loud yapping broke the tension. 
The pup was frantically barking at the wolf and lunging at it in a playful manner all the while standing in front of you like it was trying to protect you. The sight would have been comical had you not been on the brink of passing out. This tiny puppy was fiercely defending you against this monster. 
And, to your surprise, it was working. 
Once you gained the courage to raise your head you were met with the sight of the wolf’s intense gaze trained on the puppy. More specifically, its gaze was trained on the bandages covering its wounds. The wolf looked back at you, its hauntingly silver eyes making you flinch. It continued to stare at you for a long moment like it was contemplating something, that of which you were unaware of. But then its gaze hardened and its predatory stance relaxed. It had made its decision. 
Without another snarl or howl it nipped the pup by its scruff and began to carry it out of the cottage. It stopped for a moment once it had successfully squeezed out of the broken door frame and looked back at you, this too was a look that you were unable to decipher. It gave you a slow blink and then turned, carrying the pup back to the forest and disappearing into the darkness. 
It was in that moment that you finally realized that it had not been a dog you had rescued, but that wolf’s pup. 
And with that realization you completely collapsed to the floor and were dragged into a dark, dreamless, restless sleep. 
~~~~~~~
Yoongi had come to realize that there wasn’t much that you could do to discipline a two year old, especially a two year old that was a shifter. 
His daughter, Binna, had little control over her form and had a knack for slipping away and getting into trouble. That was something he could blame on his other pack members, specifically the youngest three. 
He huffed out a sigh as he carefully extracted twigs and leaves from her messy hair, flinging them back into the underbrush. She was the very definition of a wild child. And while it wasn’t uncommon for pups her age to be curious and adventurous, it was uncommon that she so readily welcomed and followed humans. 
Humans were dangerous, that was something he had tried his best to get her to understand but she simply couldn’t. She was too young to understand how they could hunt her and hurt her, far too young to realize what that meant, and far too young to understand that it was a human that had taken her mother away from them. 
Then again, she hadn’t known her mother all too well. That was evidenced by her clinging to any female shifter she had found and babbling out “mama” to the wrong mothers. She knew her mother was missing, but she couldn’t match the face to the name. He couldn’t really blame her all that much. Her mother had been amongst the best hunters and was oftentimes absent as she hunted for the pack’s survival. Yoongi was a defender, he was there to ensure the safety of everyone that resided within their territory. He was at the front lines. And because of that, his wife was often gone and he was almost always home. To his daughter, her mother was a faceless being. 
“Let me see,” He demanded firmly, trying to unwind the bandages that were already slipping from her skin. 
She nipped at his fingers playfully, her serrated canines gleaming as she giggled. Yoongi tried his best to suppress his smile, he was supposed to be upset with her. He sighed once more and grabbed the edge of the bandage and began to unwind it. 
“No,” She cried in a drawn out whine, “Mama gave me! Mama gave me!” 
Yoongi froze, startled as he registered her fractured speech. She thought that human in the cottage was her mother. 
He could see why she would think that, you had taken care of her after all. From what he had seen from the wounds he knew they came from a hunter's trap, snares made from silver that were so small they had clearly been designed for pups as no adult shifter would ever be able to be caught in that small a snare. It was clear that you had rescued his daughter and taken care of her in his absence. 
And for some reason, Yoongi could only press his lips together in a firm line and failed to correct his daughter. At the end of the day, she wasn’t necessarily wrong. 
Yoongi knew you.
He had known you for a while now. He had watched you the day you and your husband had moved in. The two of you had chosen a location that was incredibly close to their territory and so he scouted you out for days to ensure that you wouldn’t stumble too far from your home, to ensure that you weren’t a threat. 
He had thought you two were safe, and that was his biggest mistake. 
Yoongi would not say that he was enamored with you, but he was definitely interested in you. He had gone his entire life knowing to never trust a human, but as he observed he couldn’t help but be enthralled by your little human quirks. 
You were so blissfully unaware of his presence as he silently stalked you. Your husband, like his wife, was often gone during the day and you were left to amuse yourself. For someone of your age, you had this odd youthful aura about you. He would watch as you would jump into the brooke, spinning around and splashing with abandon not unlike his child would. 
That version of you that he knew though, that was long gone. Loss has aged you, hardened you. Even though you were completely ensnared by fright he could see the hollowness in your eyes when he had ripped your door from its hinges. 
The both of you had been irreparably changed by loss. 
And then there was the other problem. He was indebted to you and you were now in his care. While he refused to acknowledge any attachment he felt for you, he couldn’t deny the attraction. It was incredibly wrong considering his own disdain for humans, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something else there, this odd discomfort in his chest that demanded to be felt, a sour feeling in his stomach at the thought of your frightened face. 
This was not good. 
Contrary to popular belief, wolves do not mate for life. And as a shifter that was even more true. While many chose to bond to one another, it was not horribly uncommon to find a new mate if one were to leave or die. And, very rarely, there were intense bonds that made it so that you did mate for life. In the case of his wife, it was not that type of bond. Of course he was hurt, of course he missed her, but it was not the debilitating grief that you experienced. It was natural for his kind, evolutionary even.  
The attachment, this bond he felt for you paired with his daughter’s stubborn belief that you could be her mother made him make a decision far faster than he should have. 
You lost a husband, he lost a wife. An even trade. Why could you not fill those roles for each other? 
~~~~~~~
The following days were ones where you lived in a state of fright and confusion. 
When you awoke the next morning you were greeted by the feeling of the floor against your cheek and a stiff ache in your joints. Apparently, you had spent the night collapsed on the floor. 
When you finally mustered up the strength to stand there were several things that were brought to your attention. Firstly, that there was now a gaping hole in the wall from where your door had once stood. Secondly, the events that occurred the night before had not been a grief conjured hallucination. And thirdly, the pain in your hands had completely disappeared. 
Upon unwinding the bandages you were met with completely closed wounds and thin scars that looked years old. Your suspicions had been proven correct, that wolf and its pup were certainly not just animals not with the way a few stray licks had healed your palms. Your fingers trembled in fright at the realization before you grabbed another roll of bandages and wrapped them tightly in a panic. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
You followed the same thought as you gathered up sheets, a cord, and pins with the intention to cover up the missing door to your cottage. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
Unfortunately, that was not possible for you. Before you could even attempt to hang the sheets you were frozen in place a foot away from what was once the threshold. On the cobblestone porch was a carcass. You stared at it, dumb in shock as you tried to understand what you were looking at. It wasn’t a complete animal, it had been skinned and cleaned and left on your porch laying out on a thick piece of brown paper packaging. At first, you considered the possibility that it was another mourning gift from one of your neighbors in town but that was very quickly debunked. For one, they typically cooked the meat or met you at the door. And secondly, there were clear claw marks in the bone and large tooth impressions left behind. You had a sick feeling that you knew where this came from. But it didn’t make any sense, no wolf could clean a carcass like this - this was work done by human hands. 
Despite your conclusion, when you raised your head you were once more greeted by the sight of the wolf. He was much closer than he had been the first time you saw him the night before. He laid right by the end of the treeline - half of his body submerged in shade and the other half bathing in the golden glow of the early morning light. Those silver eyes were watching you intently, waiting to see what you would do next. 
That only confirmed your suspicions, he had brought it for you. It was a peace offering of sorts, a truce. In spite of that knowledge your hands still trembled when you grabbed a corner of the parchment and dragged the carcass past the threshold. The wolf’s alert and tense body almost immediately relaxed. It was like it was relieved. 
It stared after you for a moment longer, gave you a slow blink, and then rose and melted back into the forest - vanishing as if it hadn’t even been there in the first place. 
And so you hung your sheet, peeled the flesh from the bone of the carcass, and disposed of the remains. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
~~~~~~~
When you woke the next day, the makeshift curtain was pulled to the side and wrapped around a bent hinge that was still mounted to the wall. Another thing you were certain wolves were incapable of. 
And there, on the stoop, laid a pile of wild berries and fruit on a small, clean cloth. And, not far away, the wolf was there once more. Although this time it was much closer, so close in fact that you could visibly make out the twisted scar around its eye. It was laying down, much like a dog would, with its large head raised in alert. Those silver eyes flicked slowly from the present and back to you three times, a clear signal that it was waiting for you to take them. It only relaxed when you brought them inside just like the day before. 
This pattern between the two of you persisted for several days to follow. And, no matter how you tried to forget what had happened that night, this creature was making it virtually impossible. It was ironic how you had once longed for company and were willing to settle for it from a dog but now that you had someone, well something, watching over you you were incredibly unnerved by the ordeal. But you couldn’t exactly shoo the hulking creature away. 
And so each day passed and more presents followed. One day it was bunches of wildflowers, another it was game of varying sizes, and another was a thick pelt that had been handcrafted into a blanket for the cold spring nights. You didn’t know how to exactly decline a gift from a mythical creature. Wouldn’t there be horrible repercussions for that? 
The urgency to put a stop to this odd arrangement became even more apparent when a gold pendant was left at your door and the wolf had crept so close that it was less than fifteen feet away. It was beginning to make your home its territory and now it was somehow stealing items you had only dreamed of affording when you were young. It was all too much. 
You wound the chain of the pendant around your fingers as you hesitantly crept down the stone steps. The creature perked up in interest, elevating its head again as you slowly approached it, your body shaking in fright in spite of your attempts to school yourself into a false confidence. 
“I-” You paused to clear your throat, “I can’t accept this. You’ve done more than enough for me, you’re forgiven.” 
It only cocked its head to the side in response. You were just a crazy woman talking to an animal, weren’t you?
“Here, take it,” You tried again, reaching out your palm to it as the chain caught the sun and glistened in the morning light. 
It was looking at you like you were dumb. 
“Fine,” You sighed, “I’ll just leave it here then and you can take it back to wherever you got it from.” 
You lightly tossed it onto the grass and turned your back on the creature before briskly walking back to your cottage. And, despite the haste in which you walked, you were no match for the massive wolf. 
A startled shriek left your lips as you felt a large, warm body bump against your side and thick fur rub up against your skin. Another shriek was forced past your lips when its tail wacked you on the backside like it had a mind of its own. 
Gold glinted in its teeth before the pendant was unceremoniously dropped on your stone steps, the placement much more haphazard than it had been that morning.
If this had happened a few days before, you were certain you would have been more frightened, but now your patience was far too thin and you were in desperate need for your privacy and a sense of normalcy. 
“If you’re going to keep bringing me things, at least let them be useful! Like a door, for instance. You know, that thing you ripped off of my home!” 
The wolf huffed in what almost sounded like an amused chuckle before rising and stalking towards you, crowding you up against the side of the cottage. Your heart pounded as you realized you had made a grave error, you were not the one in charge here. 
You clenched your eyes shut as you felt a warm puff of air over your face and a wet nose prod your cheek. You shook as you remembered the creature's giant fangs and huge body. You were certain now that it was going to eat you now that you had denied it, these were the repercussions that you feared.
What you hadn’t anticipated though, was the feeling of it pressing its head on top of yours and whining like an overgrown puppy. It was acting like you had hurt its feelings. You hesitantly cracked an eye open only to see this huge, scarred, wolf nuzzling your head and then your hands like it was begging for affection. 
A surprised laugh came straight from your chest as you shakily began to pet the wolf. The wolf that had previously been ready to kill you after you had accidentally kidnapped its child. 
“Alright, alright, cut it out!” You squealed, laughing hysterically as it began to lick you. You quickly froze when you realized that that was the first time you had laughed in months. It was the first time you had laughed since your husband had died. 
You gently pushed against the wolf’s large head as you side stepped around it, a frown now tugging down the corners of your mouth. It felt so wrong to be happy. 
Your companion noticed your swift shift in behavior. It ducked its head down and nosed at your back not all that gently as you stumbled forward. 
“Don’t you have a child you need to get back to?” You hissed, a sudden wave of irritation rushing over you. 
This wasn’t all that uncommon for you. The rapid changes in your emotions. It was easy to feel joy wither away to apathy, to frustration, to anger. Oftentimes you felt like you had no control over how you felt and it left you grasping at straws as you tried to hold yourself together. It was just so hard. 
“Go on, go home,” You sighed, flicking your hand in the general direction of the trees, “I don’t doubt that you’ll be back tomorrow anyways.” 
The wolf stared at you again, as it tended to, before purposefully bumping its large body against you once more and making for the forest. It hesitated for a moment, looking back over its shoulder to give you one last look, and then it was gone again. 
That was what you wanted, wasn't it? But if that were true then why did you hate the loneliness that you were left with so much? 
~~~~~~~
That morning, early in the morning, you were awoken by the sound of a hacksaw. 
For a brief moment, in the hazy grasp of sleep, you allowed yourself to settle back down when you realized it was just your husband getting an early start on the daily chores. 
But your husband was dead. 
With that sobering thought you jolted fully awake, gripping your blanket tightly in your hands and pulling it up over your mouth as you struggled to control your breathing. Your neighbors were out of the way and they rarely came to visit anymore outside of the kind supply drops they had provided you with throughout the rest of the winter. So, if it wasn’t them, then who was it? 
You rose and with the blanket still wrapped around you, you made for the door as quietly as you could. Once again, the curtain was pulled and fixed to the side like it usually was whenever your companion came to visit you. But the person that stood outside, mere steps away, was very clearly not the massive wolf you had come to know. 
You could only see him from the back, but he was very clearly a man. He was a decent height with longer, thick, raven hair that began to curl at the ends. From what you could see of him, you could make out stretches of porcelain skin. He was wearing a loose fit white top and he had rolled the sleeves up past his elbows exposing pale forearms with impressive veins and hands that looked like they had been carved from marble. 
Your cheeks grew warm as you realized you were spending far too much time appreciating his appearance rather than worrying about what this stranger's intentions with you and your home were. “What are you doing here?”
The man continued his work, sawing at the wood until the cut was complete before he responded. You then realized that he had been very aware of your presence the entire time, he had not been startled at all. 
“You asked for a door, did you not?” He replied, sarcasm tainting his words, as he brushed the sawdust from his hands and turned to look at you. 
His face was just as lovely as the rest of him. Dark brows, doll-like lips, and deep brown eyes that had the gentlest slope to them. He was beautiful, that was undeniable. 
But what was most apparent and most worrying, was the long scar that ran over his right eye. A scar that you had most definitely seen before. Your body stumbled backwards on instinct, trying its hardest to create more distance between the two of you. 
The man raised an eyebrow, a look of pure amusement etched into his features, “You weren’t afraid of me yesterday but you are now? You are a confusing little human, you know that?”
“You - that’s, that’s not possible!” You gasped, tightening your hold on your blanket. “What you’re insinuating is not possible!” 
He chuckled to himself, leaning his weight back on his hands as he dropped his chin down, “You want me to prove it to you? I could if you really wanted me to, I do like these clothes though so I’ll only do it if you give me a reason.” 
The thought of watching this man, creature, wolf, whatever he was burst out of his flesh and take on a different form was horrifying enough that you were certain you would faint at the very sight. Already you were shaken by the thought of this being possible, you didn’t know if you would be able to handle the sight. Not to mention that subtle innuendo that whenever he decided to take the form of a man again he would be as bare as the day he was born. It was all too much. 
“Please don’t!” You cried, “Don’t do that!”
“As you wish,” He nodded with a teasing smile as he turned back to the door in progress. “Perhaps some other time.”
“What is it exactly that you want from me, if you are who you say you are?” You asked. 
“I am responsible for you.” He said with a shrug, picking up the saw once more and continuing his work as if what he said made any sense at all. 
“No, you are not. No one is responsible for me, you owe me nothing.”
“I don’t? I would think I at least owe you a door, that is what you said after all, remember?” 
Heat rushed to your face in pure frustration and embarrassment. He was just as infuriating and insufferable as he was when he was an overgrown dog…that is of course if you were truly willing to believe in that sort of thing.  But how else could he have known about your request for the door? Why else would he believe he was responsible for you had you not saved his child’s life? Unless he were some creepy, stalking stranger, he would have no knowledge of these events. This man was the very thing your town hunted and was frightened of. 
“Just the door then? That’s all? You will leave after you’ve finished it and your debt will be repaid. You will leave me alone?” You asked. 
He paused for a moment, a confused expression taking over his face. He looked at you as if he realized he couldn’t comprehend what you were asking of him. “You confuse me.”
“I confuse you?” You laughed, “I woke up this morning to a strange man outside my home claiming to be something that up until this morning I didn’t believe in, who claims he is responsible for me and owes me when all I want is peace and privacy!”
“That, that confuses me.” He admitted. 
“What?!” You cried in exasperation. 
“How can someone who so clearly hates being alone also want to keep it that way?”
You wrapped your blanket around yourself tighter, as if that would somehow shield you from the sudden sense of exposure that washed over you. You were feeling vulnerable. You were feeling seen. 
“You humans are social creatures, not unlike my kind, yet when you need help, when you’re in distress, you push your pack away. It goes against every natural instinct that you have, it doesn’t make any sense.” He laughed with a shake of his head. 
“You are alone here, you have no one to protect you. I can keep you safe in every meaning of the word. Whether that means building you a door, forgive me by the way, or guarding your land. I want to protect you.” 
There was a gentle flutter in your heart, one that you desperately wanted to stomp out but were failing to do so. You hadn’t been affected by someone like this since your husband and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about that. He was supposed to be the one allowed to move on, not you. These feelings weren’t supposed to be for you, they were supposed to pass. It was your job to mourn his loss; he was supposed to be your one and only love. These feelings were supposed to be wrong. So why, deep down, did you enjoy them? 
Instead of telling him to leave, to abandon his work and yourself, you made the mistake of giving him a chance. You made the mistake of entertaining him. 
“I don’t even know who you are,” You said with a laugh of disbelief. 
“Yoongi,” He smiled, a wolfish smile, “And you do know me, I’ve been here longer than you know.” 
That wasn’t the comforting sentiment that he was trying to make it be. Just how long had he been watching you? You were reluctant to linger on that thought much longer, so you moved on. 
“How long will this take you?” You asked, shuffling closer to his work. 
“Not long. Lucky you, you happened to pick a shifter whose trade is in woodworking.”
“A shifter? So, that’s what you are?” 
Yoongi pursed his lips, his brows furrowed, he was thinking. It was like he was still deciding if he could trust you or not. He was deciding just how much information he was willing to give up to you despite the fact that you had seen him in his other form. 
He nodded. 
“Are there…are there more of you?”
“Yes,” He reluctantly admitted, you had already seen his daughter after all. 
“Why is it that I have only met one of your kind now?”
“Because, we’re discreet. We have to be. You found my daughter in that hunter’s snare, remember?”
“Your daughter,” You echoed, “is she alright?” 
Yoongi practically preened at your concern. All you were doing was giving him validation, you could and would be a good mother to her. You could be a good mate for him. 
“Our kind heals fast, she’s already running around causing more trouble,” He chuckled, “but don’t be mistaken, I am grateful for what you did for her. You saved her life and you helped heal her. I owe you much more than you know.”
“I saved her life? You couldn’t mean…”
A grim look descended over his pretty features, a dark gaze settling in his eyes as he paused his work once more, his hands tightly gripping the tools they were holding. “That’s exactly what I mean. We have been hunted since the dawn of time. Woman, man, child, it makes no difference to them. Their entire goal is to eradicate us, they think we are abominations. It wasn’t enough that they took my wife, they tried to take my daughter as well.” 
Your heart ached in sympathy for him. You knew that feeling, the overwhelming wave of grief and pain that attempted to drown you in your suffering. You had lost your husband and a child, Yoongi was just as familiar with loss as you were. 
You crept closer to him, so close that you could feel the warmth that radiated off of his body like a stove. Hesitantly, you reached out to him and rested your hand on top of his. You could feel his grip go lax, his hand relaxing beneath your touch. 
“I know how terrible it can be to hear someone apologize and tell you that they know what you're going through, but I think this is one of those rare moments where it’s true.” You said. 
You could feel his gaze on you and the scarred skin of his hands beneath yours. He felt so incredibly close, this was the closest you had been to anyone in a while. You swallowed uncomfortably as you felt his hand turn over and the skin of his palm meet yours as his fingers laced their way in between yours. 
“My husband…he was killed this winter. I’ll never know what happened to him, or why it happened, but knowing that he’ll never be here again is the most painful thing I have ever felt. It’s indescribable.”
Yoongi tried his best to suppress the inappropriate smile that wanted to make its appearance known on his lips. You two truly did complete one another. You were two pieces of a puzzle that had not been intended to fit together, but had been carved up and forced together. You were altered, created for one another. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, stroking his thumb down the curve where your palm met your finger in rhythmic swipes. 
“I know that feeling, I understand it well.”
I understand you, he wanted to say. 
“People like us, we should stick together. We can trust one another like no one else can.” He murmured, gently brushing up against your side. 
That was enough to wake you up from the dreamlike haze he had put you in. You stepped back, breaking your fingers away from his and holding your hand up to your chest. 
It was too soon, too much, you couldn’t be that close to someone, to a man nonetheless. You couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. 
Yoongi took a step forward and you took three back, retreating from the momentary comfort you had felt. But instead of looking dejected like you assumed he would, he looked determined, he looked sure of himself. And that only made you stumble back even more, stepping up your stone steps and into the house.
“I’ll leave you to your work.” 
This is what you did. Despite the entrapment you felt by your loneliness, it was familiar, it was right. The loneliness was easier. 
It was the only thing you knew you could hold on to for certain. 
~~~~~~~
In the days that followed, you became antsy to get out from beneath your visitor’s presence. 
You hurried past your uninvited guest, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you with his back turned to you. Your hopes were quickly dashed. 
“Where are you going?” He called over his shoulder. 
You came to a halt with an exasperated sigh, “Am I answering to you now?”
He only hummed in response and for a reason that you could not conceive, it lit you alight with agitation. “Where I go, is none of your concern!”
That caught his attention, his head slightly jerking to the side as he watched you from the corner of his eye. “It’s not safe out there, not when you’re alone.” 
“I was fully capable of finding my way through the forest before you got here, I seriously doubt that I have lost all sense of direction.”
“It’s not your sense of direction I’m worried about,” He sighed, “There’s more of my kind out there and more of your hunters - both of which would not bat an eye at a human getting caught in the crossfire.”
“It’s never been a problem before,”
“No, but it is now.” He said with a stern glare, his eyes not meeting your curious gaze, but instead staring into the distance. His shoulders were tense, his forearms flexed, he looked as if he was burdened with knowledge that he could not share. 
“Yoongi, what is that supposed to mean?” 
“Don’t wander off too far,” He deflected. 
You stayed for a moment, suddenly unsure as to what you should do. Moments before you were ready to get out from underneath his oppressive stare, but now you were intrigued. Yoongi had told you about the shared hatred between your species. The humans hunted the shifters and the shifters were reactionary killers. They followed an honor code closely and truly believed in an eye for an eye. So what had happened that now made it unsafe for you to traverse the woods when before it had never been a problem. Why would Yoongi’s kind attack you unprovoked?
Despite your stare, Yoongi was blatantly ignoring you, pretending that he didn’t notice you hadn’t left. That was enough to let you know that the conversation was over no matter how much you poked and prodded. 
Without another word, you left. Contrary to what Yoongi had believed, you wouldn’t be traveling too far. Your cottage and the shifter would not be in view, but you knew the way like the back of your hand. It was past the brook, and a good walk through the evergreens. What you were searching for was a small clearing. 
The trees lined the space in almost a perfect circle, something that appeared somewhat unnatural amidst the organic shapes of the woods. In the middle, there stood one weeping willow - completely out of place and the only one of its kind. And at the base of its gnarled roots was a simple stone with your husband's name carved into it. The earth was still turned, a reminder of just how fresh his death and the wounds they left behind on your heart were. 
You gently lowered yourself to the ground, your skirts folding beneath your knees as your fingers pressed into the dirt. You had often thought about crawling back to him, you had dreamed of being wrapped up in his warm embrace again, the two of you entwined and buried beneath a comforter of soil and flowers. In your dreams you were intertwined so tightly that years from now if anyone were to find you they wouldn’t be able to tell where you began and he ended. 
“Hello my love,” You whispered despite no one else being in the clearing. And of course, you were met with the silence, the ever present reminder that he had left you and that he was never coming back. 
You sniffled as your fingers smoothed down the fluffed dirt before digging into your basket and pulling out the prettiest wildflowers you could find with which you then began to arrange around the stone. You knew it wasn’t right to spend so much time here, you were holding on so dearly to someone that was gone and no matter how much love you held for him it would never be enough to revive him. 
When you were satisfied with your arrangement you allowed yourself to empty your eyes of the last of their tears before patting your cheeks dry with the edge of your pinafore. With clear eyes, you were now able to see a few things that you had missed before. 
Hanging from the boughs of the tree were several things. There were colored glass stars and moons that were strung up on several branches all of which varied in color and reflected the sun through them, casting brilliant shards of light over the earth. And, amongst those, were small wolves carved masterfully from wood. You slowly stood, your brows furrowed in confusion as you tapped one of the stars with a shaky finger. It swung back and an ethereal ringing sounded from within it. 
What were these doing here? At your husband’s grave? 
You looked back at the wooden wolves before you began to piece it together. Yoongi, he had a wife. Was this for her? Was this their version of funeral rites? But if that were true then she would have died recently, but why would she be buried here, where your husband had been killed and laid to rest? 
Your heart thumped, your palms began to sweat. 
No. No, you refused to believe it. 
Their words began to rush back to the forefront of your mind, “pieces,” and “consumed.” Your husband had been ripped apart and eaten, there was barely anything of him left behind. 
It was her, it had to have been her, she had been the one to kill him. But if that were true, then who had killed her? 
“I am responsible for you,” Yoongi’s words echoed through your mind. 
They had a code of honor, they believed in an eye for an eye. Or, a spouse for a spouse. 
You turned your back on the burial sight and balled your fists up before pressing them against your eyes. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind.
Yoongi wouldn’t, Yoongi couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t take someone’s spouse from them, he wouldn’t make you feel the same pain that he did.
A rumble pulled you from your panicked thoughts, your breaths still fast and shallow. But what you thought had been the earth shaking, was something far more menacing. Across the clearing stood a wolf, a wolf that was not Yoongi. It was too small to be him and the fur was the wrong color. But the size alone told you that it was clearly a shifter and by the way it was looking at you, you were certain that you were in danger. 
You stood still, hoping that if you didn’t make any sudden movements he wouldn’t be provoked but you were sorely mistaken. You could see its muscles tensing up as it crouched low and shifted its weight back towards its hind legs like it was preparing to lunge. No matter what you did, it had already made its decision to kill you right where you stood. 
You hadn’t realized you were screaming until you felt the raw pain in your throat, your body acting on its own will to survive as you reeled backwards and hastily began to climb up the tree. If you were lucky, it couldn’t climb, but there was still a human inside of that creature - it was smart, you had seen Yoongi hunt you down before, after all. 
You shrieked in fright as you heard the mangy wolf approach, its large paws ripping through the ground as it raced towards you while all you could do was try and climb higher. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The wolf leaped and its massive teeth tore into your skirt and ripped you from the tree. For a moment, you were completely weightless - you were airborne. And in that brief moment of freedom, you were quickly grounded by reality when you came crashing down to the ground, your forehead just clipping the top of your husband’s headstone as you went rolling down into the grass. 
You knew what would come next. This time, the embrace of death would wrap around you. There was no getting around this. But what confused your shock ridden body even more was the pure dread you felt from the realization that you were going to die. You had once welcomed death, begged for her, prayed for her even, but now when you felt her looming over you you realized that you weren’t ready. 
You missed your husband, but you weren’t ready to join him. 
And, just as you felt the hot breath of the shifter mist over the back of your neck, it was just as quickly ripped away. 
There was a symphony of snarls that followed, the sound of flesh being torn, booming growls, then a pitiful whimper, and a loud snap. And then, all fell quiet. 
You were still dazed as you felt warm arms slip beneath your own, pulling you up into someone’s lap and pressing your body back against an even warmer, bare chest. Long fingers prodded at the warm blood that slid down your temple and a deep, frantic voice echoed in your ears - the words were unintelligible. 
“I told you not to wander off,” Yoongi said, his lips just beside the shell of your ear, the first words he had said that you could finally understand. 
“I told you,” He repeated, his voice wavering and full of emotion as he trailed off. 
You looked at him wearily, your head feeling much heavier than it had earlier. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. The look on his face could only be described as haunting. He was cradling your face with both hands. His thumb stroked your cheek, but his eyes were trained on the weeping willow. He looked just as shaken as you had been before. 
That sinking feeling was back in your gut. The suspicions you had were coming back to your rattled brain. But still, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, collapsing your body against his completely as you felt yourself slipping away. 
He was calling your name, his voice panicked as he held you against him even tighter. You rested your chin on the pale stretch of skin of his shoulder and started back into the treeline. You were finding comfort in the man that you were almost certain was involved in your husband’s death. You were embracing the suspected killer of your husband. 
And in your delirium you caught sight of something out there, something you weren’t sure was even real. It looked like one of the clerics from town, his white robes reflecting the sun as he hastily retreated back into the cover of the trees. 
A bloodied, naked corpse laid where the mangy wolf once stood. 
You found comfort in a killer as a man of god ran away from the sight of the worst sin, murder. 
~~~~~~~
Yoongi’s watchful gaze never left you, even when you thought that you were away from prying eyes. When he said he wanted to protect you, that you were his responsibility, he meant it. 
It wasn’t safe for you to be alone this close to the woods and this far from town. Even though you chose to ignore this, he knew that he was right. He was oftentimes put on edge when he would think about the possibility of someone wandering through the woods and stumbling upon your cottage. And, even worse, he could imagine what someone would do when they found a beautiful woman, alone, in the middle of nowhere with help miles away. His paranoid suspicions had proven to be true with what happened days before. 
“Who was he?” You had asked when you had woken up. 
When you had slipped into unconsciousness he shifted once more, swinging you onto his back and racing back to your cottage. It would have been comical to try and watch his massive wolf form squeeze into your home while dragging your body inside, but in that moment Yoongi had trouble finding anything remotely amusing. He had been too frantic to switch back into his human skin and it took him several moments of concentration before he was able to do it. 
“He was no one,” He plainly said, his brows drawing together as he dabbed at the wound that split open your forehead. 
“You didn’t know him?”
“No,” He sighed, “He was just a nomad, a packless wolf. He must have caught your scent and tracked you down.”
“Was he going to eat me?”
You were met with a sickening silence as Yoongi pursed his lips and bandaged your cut. His silence was a clear answer. 
“But, I’m not an animal. There’s plenty of deer and rabbits…” You trailed off. 
Yoongi set down the roll of gauze and leaned towards you, cradling your face once more in his hands. “Humans and animals are not all that different, you eat, you sleep, you mate, and you both give chase. Many of my kind see yours and animals as one in the same. What only matters is the hunt.” 
Human, shifter, or hunter it didn’t matter, he had grown to trust no one outside of his pack. There were nefarious creatures at every corner, whether he was one of them was still to be decided. His behavior certainly appeared to be nefarious, to an outsider. 
He could hear the thrum of your heart in your chest and the quickening of your pulse as you digested his words. 
“Don’t be afraid of me, I would never hurt you. I just want to take care of you.” He murmured as he leaned in closer to you and pressed his lips to your forehead is a soft kiss that pulled a sharp breath into your chest. 
Since that day, Yoongi’s behavior has drastically changed. 
During the day he worked, far slower than what was normal or necessary, and he watched you fulfill your mundane tasks for the day. While they should have bored him, they did quite the opposite. Everything you did seemed so curious, enthralling even. He couldn’t explain this odd tether he had to you. The only thing that he did know, was that he had to be near you. Whatever this was, it had become far more than just a sense of duty he felt towards you. 
During the night, when the moon emerged, he would shift and watch from the shadows. He would watch you pull your curtain closed and float from room to room. He would sit as still as he possibly could and listen to your heart beat slow and your breathing even out as you fell asleep. He would sit in front of the gaping hole where your door once sat and he would keep watch, pride stirring in his chest as he protected you. 
It was during the night when his daughter would come to visit. Some nights he could hear four paws ripping through the earth as she excitedly ran up to him, other nights he would be greeted by the sound of two little human feet running through the grass. And sometimes, she would morph between the two forms, flickering between the two states like the unsteady wave of a flame. 
But, there was one constant with her. 
“Mama,” She would whisper, crawling on all fours up the steps. 
And every time he would nip her by her clothes and settle her back down in between his massive paws. 
It was a silent “not yet.” 
You were his responsibility, but his daughter wasn’t yours. Not yet at least. 
The three of you had unknowingly settled into a routine. And on the day that the door was finished, that pattern was finally disrupted. 
You had grown accustomed to Yoongi’s presence. If you were being truly honest, you would admit that you had grown to like him. You would never admit it to anyone but his presence had filled that hole in your heart that your husband had left behind. You knew that his saving you had caused this pivot in your emotions and in all honesty you were incredibly confused by them. 
Yoongi was kind and incredibly gentle in spite of how your initial meeting had gone. His voice was soft when he spoke to you, his smile reassuring, and the gentle touches calming. It was hard not to like him, and it was even harder to remember that he wasn’t human. 
But the reminders were there. The odd glow in the depths of his eyes, the wolfish smile, the predatory gaze you had caught sight of whenever he thought you weren’t looking and the looming suspicions you had about his implications in your husband’s untimely death. He was still a wolf, there was no denying that. But you approached it all with the same logic you tended to fall back on: out of sight, out of mind. It was simply easier to not think about it. That, as well as your traitorous feelings for him. 
The clouds came out of nowhere the day the door was finished. 
“No, no, no, no, no!” You cried as you frantically ran outside and towards your clothesline where you had hung all of your linens. 
Yoongi watched you dart in between the fluttering clothes and sheets as the rain slowly began to descend and the wind threatened to whip everything away. 
“Yoongi!” You called. 
The shiver that sent down his spine was strong. That was all it took for you to rattle him, just the mere sound of his name on your lips was world shattering. You didn’t know just how easily you could ruin him. 
“Yoongi, help me!” You called again, your voice stern this time. He thought it was cute when you tried to be in charge. 
There had been a definite shift in your relationship after he had killed that wolf for you. You had started inviting him inside for dinner, watching him work, and even spending the evenings with him outside, leaning up against the warm side of his wolf form. And in turn he would accompany you wherever you needed to go, keeping a close eye on you, and a firm hand on the small of your back. 
You had grown impossibly closer than you had ever thought you would be capable of. Hell, you hadn’t even questioned why he was wearing your husband’s clothes when you woke up - you weren’t even upset. You were beginning to feel alive again. 
The two of your hurriedly gathered the linens. Yoongi had turned it into a game, ripping items off of the line right before you could touch it like it was a race. In all honesty, he made you feel like a kid again. The both of you were laughing, stumbling over the laundry and bumping into each other as you raced inside. 
“You were supposed to help me, not compete with me!” You scolded him, dropping the sopping wet pile of laundry into your basket. 
“I can do both, dearest.”
Dearest. That had been a recent occurrence. It slipped from his lips one day, it had caused your heart to stutter and your blood to rush and ever since then he had not gone a single day without letting the term of endearment grace your ears. He loved seeing how flustered it would make you, the way he practically purred around the word. 
“Or, you could just be kind to me for once.”
“I’m always kind to you, have you not enjoyed the gifts I’ve brought you?” He asked, a faux pout on his pretty lips as he slowly stalked towards you. You could almost see the wolf in him when he did that, you could visualize the swing of his tail and the way his massive head would tip down as his glowing eyes locked in on you. It was there, in the swing of his walk and the taunt muscle of his shoulders. It was an ever present reminder that he was not like you. 
You backed up, almost coyly, as he approached. His broader steps quickly gain on your short, shuffled ones. The cold, spring breeze rushed over the exposed skin of your neck, the open doorway was now behind you. But, before you could rush outside and back into the rain and allow him to give chase, he reached behind you and jerked his arm back. In that instant you felt solid wood press against your back, the new door settling perfectly into the once empty frame and blocking off your exit. 
You let out a shaky breath as he leaned into you, his chest against yours as he raised his arm above your head. With one swift movement there was a click and then his arm settled by your waist and another click followed. He had locked the door behind you. You were trapped in your own home with the wolf. 
The silence that followed was deafening. 
Short breaths were passed between the two of you, both of you waiting for the other to make a move. Your lashes fluttered as your gaze traced the contours of his face. You often wondered if he knew just how lovely he was, scar and all. 
You swallowed harshly as you raised your hand to his face, your fingers trembling with desire before softly grazing the bottom of the scar. Yoongi’s eyes slipped shut as he moved forward allowing his face to lean into your touch, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours. 
“Yoongi,” You whispered. 
And with that one simple call of his name, he lunged and went in for the kill. His pretty lips collided with your own as his hand moved to cradle your jaw and tilt your head back with the force of his kiss. With your back against the door there was nowhere for you to go, but there was nowhere else that you wanted to be. 
You gasped as you felt his free hand slowly trail up your leg and over your hip before settling on your lower back and sharply pulling your hips against his. A pitiful whimper was passed from your lips to his from the sudden desire that was pooling in your lower abdomen. 
A moment of clarity came to you, your mind pushing past the haze of desire when you felt your feet leave the ground. Yoongi buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his lips and teeth making quick work of the skin there, as he walked. It was when you felt the soft cover of your bed beneath you that you realized what was happening. 
“Yoongi, wait -” You tried, but his movements did not falter. His fingers were making quick work of the laces at the back of your dress and he showed no sign of stopping any time soon. 
He looked desperate, like he was going to die if he could not have you and the only way to relieve himself of his pain was to unveil every inch of skin that you were concealing from him and each stretch that was exposed was just as quickly covered by kisses and nipped by sharp teeth. 
You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him or the lust you were practically dripping with from his touch. But it felt like you were laying on a bed of needles when you were reminded of your late husband’s death as you were willingly laid down in your marriage bed with a man who was not your husband. 
“Please,” You gasped, gripping his shoulders, “not here.” 
That seemed to catch his attention as he finally stilled himself. From your position it looked like he was trying to gain some control over himself. His breathing was still heavy, but he had stopped touching you. He looked up at you slowly, his chin just barely brushing over your bare sternum. When he finally looked at you, you stopped breathing. His eyes were lit with moonlight, a silver glow emanating from their depths. 
He was more wolf than human in that moment, a creature that was acting purely on instinct. 
You cupped his cheek once more and while he flinched at first, he slowly relaxed beneath your touch. He was still eerily silent, and in that moment his behavior reminded you almost entirely of the first time you had met him when he was in his other skin, fully shifted into his wolf counterpart. It was those watchful eyes again, those eyes that held so much depth and awareness that it was startling. 
“I can’t, not here.” You repeated. 
He blinked slowly, once, twice, and then a third time as he cocked his head to the side. You felt a twinge of fear at that gaze and, shamefully, the rush of lust in your veins. Your body went lax as you allowed him to gather you in his arms once more. He was calmer now, his pace slower as he unlocked the front door and carried you into the night. You could see flickers of your Yoongi in him, his touch much softer as he laid you down in a bed of grass that has been permanently laid flat by the giant wolf that guarded your home. 
That night the sky was completely open, not a single cloud obscured the stars or the body of the full moon. It was utterly beautiful. Just as beautiful as the feeling of fresh dew on your back and just as beautiful as the sight of your breath crystalizing in the cold, spring air. But nothing was quite as beautiful as Yoongi. The way that his bitten lips parted with soft gasps and deep moans, the way that his porcelain skin shone beneath the moonlight, and the way that he struggled to part from your lips. It was the way that he would rather kiss you than breathe. Everything about him was beautiful. 
You had many regrets in your life, but this would never be one of them. Not when he held you like this, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Everything about this was supposed to be wrong, unholy even, but that was what made it that more enjoyable. That was what made you tense your legs around his waist, curve your hips against his, and wrap your arms around the back of his neck - drawing him towards your pulse point where he had been nosing at, sucking, and kissing almost obsessively. 
When your body shook with pleasure, a rush of warmth and tingles spread beneath your skin, your back arched and your neck was bared. And before you could even realize what was to come, his teeth had already sunk into your neck and shoulder without hesitation accompanied by an almost animalistic growl. The pain was there, it forced a scream past your lips, but it mingled deliciously with the rush of pleasure that emanated from your very core. You gasped and shook, your vision blurring as you were assaulted by your senses, your nails digging into his shoulders. 
There it was again. 
There was a flash of white in the treeline. It was there for a moment before flickering out of sight as you felt yourself barely clinging to consciousness. 
You were being watched again, there was something or someone out there that was following you - watching you in your most vulnerable moments. 
You tried to get Yoongi’s attention but he was in a similar state, the both of you lazily holding onto one another and barely moving as you began to drift. Your lips moved but no words were spoken, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, unable to form words.
Yoongi’s lips were stained with your blood, his eyes heavy lidded but now returned to their dark color that you knew and loved. You tried again to speak but found yourself unable to as he pressed his forehead against your own, his fingers brushing back your messy hair. 
The heavy lure of sleep was steadily pulling you under. You supposed it could wait until tomorrow. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
~~~~~~~
When you woke up you were back in your bed and you were alone. 
The cottage was dark, the windows all closed and the curtains drawn tight. When your eyes fluttered open you had almost believed that it was still night, that you were still outside with Yoongi and you had only momentarily dozed off. But the familiar comfort of your blankets and pillows quickly dismissed those thoughts. 
Now wide awake with your sheets pooled around your waist, you could only wonder about where your wolf had gone. Had he left you already? Had he taken your words to heart when you told him that he was to leave when his service was finished? Had he abandoned you after you had shared your most intimate moments with him? What had you done?
You felt a sense of shame wash over you as you stumbled from your bed, dull aches throbbing at various points of your body that only reminded you of what had transpired the night before. Once you collected yourself you made your way to the door your wolf had crafted for you and when you grasped the handle and pulled, you were met with a locked door. 
Your face scrunched in confusion as you turned the lock the opposite way and moved the bar at the top of the door but when you tried it again it still would not budge. 
You had been locked in your own home like a canary in a cage. 
Your heart dropped into your stomach and your throat felt impossibly tight as tears began to brim in your eyes. You had trusted him and in turn he had trapped you. How foolish you were to think that you could trust another man and here you were, a betrayer of your husband’s memory.
You sat on the floor curled up by the foot of your bed with a weak grasp on your blanket around your shoulders. There was an unexpected heartbreak that demanded to be felt in your chest, how could you mourn someone who you never really truly knew? Yoongi wouldn’t even tell you about his family, where he came from, or his people. Your relationship, whatever it was, had been an uneven exchange and you had clung to him so quickly because you had been so lonely. It was unfair. 
You quickly swept away the tears from beneath your eyes when you heard a lock turn and light began to permeate the darkness as the door swung open. He came back. 
The gentle smile he had entered with melted away, a look of concern taking over his face. He crossed the room and you rushed to stand, your arms crossing over your chest to protect and soothe yourself. You flinched away from his touch as he attempted to cup your jaw, the look of hurt and confusion on his face only inspired anger. 
“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to bridge the distance between the two of you as he moved closer while you took to stepping around the bed. You needed to keep him away, you couldn’t be swayed by those gentle touches and kind looks. 
“You locked me up, Yoongi. Why would you do that?” You sniffled as you attempted to keep your voice strong and firm. 
“I didn’t lock you up-”
“Then why was the door locked? Why couldn’t I get out?” You asked, before leaning forward and grasping a cord that was strung around his neck and nestled beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you have this?”
When you pulled the necklace out his hand shot out to grip your wrist in warning, but the damage had already been done. There was a key on his necklace, the key to your cage. 
“I’m protecting you.” He whispered, his tone deadly and his gaze dark with warning. “You saw what happened, it’s dangerous out there - I can’t trust anyone with you.”
“No, you can’t trust me,” You corrected him before jerking your hand out of his hold, “This is my home, Yoongi, my home! You have no right!”
“I have every right, you are mine!” 
“I am not!” 
His eyes were burning again, he was having trouble keeping his anger in check and you weren’t helping in the slightest. His chest was heaving with every breath and his jaw was tense. You watched him take one long breath in and then out before his arm shot out as he grabbed you by the wound on your neck forcing a pained gasp from your throat. 
“I told you, I am responsible for you, I need to protect you. This means that you’re mine and that I’m yours, this is a bond that goes deeper than marriage, do you understand that?” 
Your lips trembled as emotion welled in your chest, that told you everything that you needed to know. 
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
The silence you were met with and the empty look in his eyes was more than enough to confirm. Yoongi had been your husband’s killer. You stumbled back and heaved, waving away his hands that tried to steady you as you felt sickness stir in your stomach. 
“How could you? Why? Why did you do it?!” You cried, your fingers shaking as they grazed your lips in pure shock. 
His hands were raised as he tried to step closer to you, it wasn’t a defensive position, it looked more like he was trying to calm a startled animal. 
“He killed my wife,” He said, his voice much gentler than you expected in your state. 
“He wouldn’t!”
“No, but he would kill an animal, wouldn’t he?” 
He stopped approaching you and you had stopped moving away, your body having locked up in a state of pure shock.Your silence was enough for him to continue. 
“By the time I got there he was already taking her pelt, she wasn’t even able to shift back.”
He had skinned her. He didn’t know there was a person inside of the wolf that he had killed, and he had skinned her. 
“I took what was owed to me, he killed her so I killed him and I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret is what that did to you and your child, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I tried my best to give back to you what was taken. I can protect you, I can take care of you, I can give you children, and I can love you.”
His pupils were blown out, there was a look of pure desperation in his eyes. It was a look that made your heart shudder in your chest. 
There was a horrible ache in behind your ribs, it felt like it was on the verge of collapsing. It was undeniable that you cared for him, but the sickness that churned in your stomach was rivaling those feelings. You had never felt so betrayed before by anyone. You thought that he would have been different. 
You couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at him in the moment, it hurt too much and you knew how powerful those eyes of his were. You refused to be swayed at that moment. 
You knew that no amount of words you could say would force him to leave, so you did the next best thing and sprinted for the door. You barely made it a few steps before he lunged and grabbed you by your waist, picking you up with ease as you writhed in his hold. You turned into a feral animal, throwing yourself around wildly and scratching at any available skin you could find as you cried in shrill screams. 
“Stop fighting me!” He grunted, throwing you down on the mattress and pinning your wrists down at your sides as he pressed his knees into your kicking legs. “Calm down.” 
A scream of frustration burned your throat as your muscles strained under his firm grip. There was no use in fighting him, he was far stronger than you could ever hope to be. And so your body eventually tired itself out, your limbs going limp as you shook from a mixture of fatigue, fright, and dimming embers of anger. The skin beneath your eyes felt tight from all the crying you had done and the skin around your nails throbbed from the scratches you had carved into Yoongi’s forearms. But of course, those flesh wounds had already healed. 
You flinched as he released one of your wrists and stroked your face, indirectly drying your cheeks of their lingering tears. 
“You’re scared, now. Confused. But that’s alright, you’ll learn that I am the only one who can take care of you.”
You stayed silent and stubbornly turned your head to the side when he leant in to kiss you, but your actions did not deter him, he only laid a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth with a contented hum. 
“I’ll prove it to you, I can give you everything that you want.” He whispered beside your ear before he finally stood and the blood rushed back to your arms and legs. 
You scuttled backwards up the bed as he gave you one last lingering gaze and then he slipped out of the cottage and locked the door shut behind him. 
He had trapped you once again. 
~~~~~~~
You had laid there for a long time, frozen after what had transpired. Everything you thought that you knew has been completely and utterly wrong. It had all been a lie.
You slowly sat up and slid your palms into your lap. Your nails were stained with dark blood, you had hurt Yoongi afterall, not that it had mattered. To him, it had probably been no more irritating than a kitten’s scratch. You were once again reminded of his incredible inhuman nature.  
You needed to leave, now was your chance to escape him. It was an odd feeling that stirred in the back of your mind. The night before, there was nowhere else that you would rather be, and now you wanted to get as far away as possible. You wanted to run. 
With that thought in your mind you lept to your feet and made for the window. You knew that Yoongi would be able to find you, tracking you would be more of a game than a challenge. But if you left now, you would give yourself a head start. You would make for town and when you entered its boundaries it would be too risky for him to come after you. He wouldn’t be able to get you in either skin, the hulking form of that wolf far too obvious and the flesh of his human skin far too vulnerable when outnumbered. 
You pried open the shutters and undid the latch. You hiked up the skirt of your night dress, baring your skin to the cool breeze, and swung your legs out of the window and allowed your body to drop down. You needed to go, there was no more time for hesitation. 
Your dress was held tight in each fist as you began to run, the light fabric brushing over your legs as you moved. In that moment you had wished for a pair of shears to shorten it. 
A pitched howl echoed through the trees and your heart thrummed even harder in your chest. Your limbs froze on instinct and your ears rang with the sound of your blood rushing. It was too high of a tone to be him, you had heard the sounds he had made when he tore that other shifter to shreds. It wasn’t him but it was someone else. 
A small, dark, furry form shot out from the cover of the trees and darted through the clearing. Its pace was sure yet frantic, like it still didn't have control of its four limbs nor its speed. As it came closer you began to take cautious steps backward. You knew who that was, it was the pup. 
You watched in horror as the creature’s gait became wild and the pup began to trip over itself before the fur exploded from its skin and in its place was a little girl sprinting through the grass. 
There was no denying the impossibility of what you had seen, after all you had seen it with your own eyes. There was no forgetting this. 
“Mama!” She cried as she collided with your legs and displayed an impressive strength that was disproportionate to the size of her body, sending the both of you to the ground. The world turned sideways for a moment, and there it was once more. That flash of white that you had been seeing for weeks now. But it was closer this time, close enough that you recognized what it was. From the shape of the clothes on the fleeing form, you knew it was one of the clerics from the town. Has he been watching you all this time? 
“I missed you, mama,” She said, pulling your attention to her as she stared down at you with a pair of dark brown eyes that sent chills through your veins. She looked so much like her father. 
“Binna,” His voice shot through the air, “Remember what I said? Be gentle, you don’t want to hurt your mother.”
“Sorry!” She giggled as she pressed her cheek against your collarbone, her eyes fluttering shut and her long lashes casting shadows over the skin beneath her eyes. She wrapped her arms around your neck and hummed, the warmth from her body seeping into your skin. 
“Sorry, mama.” She repeated. 
You gently laid your hand over her back, your breaths still uneven as you pulled the two of you into a sitting position. “Sweetheart, I’m not your-“
“Binna, do you want to go see your room?” Yoongi asked, dropping down into a squat behind his daughter, his eyes on you as he spoke. 
Binna let out an excited hum of agreement, scrambling up onto two legs that still wobbled unsurely beneath her weight. You noticed that she was never completely stable in either skin she wore, it was like she was still trying to figure out how four legs and two legs worked. 
“Come on, dearest,” He said, holding his hand out to you. You sat there for a moment, stubbornly, but his gaze was unwavering and his body was as still as a statue. You knew there was no fighting him and he had played dirty by bringing his daughter into the equation. He knew that you wouldn’t want to start anything in front of her, the last thing that you wanted to do was frighten her. 
You let out an angry huff and rushed to stand without his help, storming past him and walking a few paces behind his small daughter who would toddle every now and then before bending over and trying to walk on all fours instead. 
As frustrated, frightened, and irritated as you were, you couldn’t deny the tug at your heart when you watched Binna crawl up the front steps of your home and scamper inside. You could hear the sound of her bare feet tapping against the wood floors and you couldn’t stop the resulting burn in your eyes. You had always wanted to hear that sound, you had always wanted a daughter of your own. 
But Binna wasn’t yours. 
But it was hard to long for that when you watched her disappear into the once empty nursery. You didn’t like what Yoongi was doing, he was messing with your head. He knew how badly you had wanted your child, how you had tirelessly grieved your husband, and now he was trying to patch everything together and force your lives to fit with one another. 
You knew that he could understand your loss, he had lost a wife after all. He would do anything to avoid that happening again, and if that meant locking you up while he was gone, then he would do that. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You had locked yourself up for months on end, turning your home into a mausoleum as you grieved the loss of the life you had once had. You refused to do that again. 
The door shut and the lock clicked. 
You heard him approach and then you felt his warmth as your back and his breath disturb the hair on your head. It wasn’t all that different from the first time that you had met. 
His fingers grazed your own and your hand twitched in response but you didn’t move. He intertwined your hands and pressed his forehead against the back of your head, breathing in your scent. 
“You have to let me go, Yoongi.” You whispered. 
He froze and a low, warning growl thrummed in his chest causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise. It didn’t matter what skin he was in, your body recognized him as the predator that he was. 
“No.” He simply said. 
“You’re not being fair -”
“I’ve been nothing but fair. I broke your door so I fixed it, I killed your husband and I gave you myself, you lost your child and I gave you Binna. I have been more than fair, so much so that I even gave you my love when you did not want it.” 
You ignored that last part, the love you felt for him causing a stabbing pain of betrayal in your heart. It wasn’t fair that you still felt the way you did about him after everything that he had done. After he had tricked you. 
“I am not Binna’s mother.”
He quickly hushed you, spinning you around by your shoulders and staring into your eyes, “She can hear you, she has very sensitive ears and a gentle heart, you don’t want to hurt her do you?”
You bit your lip in frustration, “It’s not fair to her mother.”
“You are her mother.” 
And that conversation was over, he wouldn’t hear any of your protests and you feared hurting Binna too much to continue to broach the subject. You were caught in between a rock and a hard place. And the worst thing was that it was hard not to love Binna. 
She was curious, mischievous, and sweet. She had been the same way when you discovered her as a pup, but you adored her even more this way. All she wanted was your attention, she was a little girl that was desperate to be loved by a mother. 
“Why did you leave?” She stumbled over the words, her little fingers twisted in the fabric of your skirt as you had started dinner, the light of the sunset cast over her eyes and bursts of silver shined in their reflection. 
You didn’t know how to respond. 
“Mama’s back now, you don’t have to worry about that baby.” Yoongi answered for you with a gentle smile as he pulled her onto his lap. 
“Forever?” She asked, staring at him with wide eyes full of wonder that only a child could possess.
“Forever,” He repeated, his eyes tracing over the profile of your face. 
The questions didn’t stop there. It was a full moon that night and Binna demanded to be outside. Yoongi had briefly told you before about their connection with the moon. It was almost religious, but even that wasn’t a good comparison. It was a part of them. 
“Shift.” Binna had commanded, tugging at your skirt again as she had quickly grown accustomed to. 
“I can’t Binna,” You explained, lowering yourself into the grass so that you were more level with her height. “I’m not like you, or your daddy.” 
Yoongi had stayed close to you all day, keeping a watchful eye on you to make sure that you wouldn’t try to leave them. 
“But…” She said, her words trailing off as her face furrowed in confusion, “It was white.”
You were confused but a quick look at Yoongi cleared that up. His gaze was glassy like he was remembering something, something that he didn’t want to think about. Binna must have meant her mother, she must have seen her before she left. Her pelt must have been white. 
Yoongi cleared his throat after a moment, “I think it’s time for bed.” 
Binna, even though she was a shifter, was still a child. She whined in protest and went limp as Yoongi scooped her up in his arms and held onto your hand, guiding the two of you back into the house. 
The door shut, the lock clicked. 
The both of you cleaned Binna up together, her feet and hands dirty from struggling to crawl in her human form and her hair a mess of twigs and leaves. She had laughed as she watched the pile of leaves grow beside the basin and attempted to jump into it like it were a much bigger leaf pile than it really was. 
And when she was clean, fed, and tired, she crawled into the center of the bed and reached her arms out for you. Your heart ached again. As soon as you laid down she was curled into your side, her little arms curled into her chest as she pressed her nose against the bite mark on your shoulder, taking in deep breaths.
The lamps in the room were snuffed out one by one, the room becoming progressively darker until it was completely plunged in darkness and only the gleam of silver eyes at the foot of the bed were visible. The bed dipped beneath Yoongi’s weight as he climbed in, laying on the other side of the bed behind his daughter. When he laid down he rolled over, wrapping his arm around the two of you and pulling you in closer to him. 
Binna hummed a happy noise, burrowing deeper into your shoulder and burying herself beneath your blankets. 
“What is she doing?” You asked, the first time you had spoken a direct question to Yoongi since that morning. 
“You smell like me, it’s how we identify each other. She feels safe with you.” He explained. 
“So that’s why you did it.” You said, a bitter edge to your words as you smoothed your hand over Binna’s freshly washed hair. “She doesn’t know any better.”
“That’s not true. She chose you, and so did I. She knew you were safe, that’s why she let you take her that day. And this,” His fingers ghosted over the mark sending chills down your spine, “was purely for my own selfish benefit. I wanted everyone to know that you’re mine.” 
“You didn’t even give me the choice.”
“I love you, and I know that you love me.” 
You remained quiet, not willing to agree or disagree with him. It was hard to make sense of madness, whether that be Yoongi’s or your own. 
“You’ll see it eventually, this is what you wanted.”
~~~~~~~
When you woke the next morning, you immediately knew that something was wrong. 
Firstly, Yoongi was gone. The spot on the bed that used to be your husband’s was cold, he had been gone for a while. Secondly, Binna was curled into the corner of the room, hiding beneath a blanket as she shook. And when you looked closer, you could see the tip of a snout and a still tail peeking out from beneath the blanket. She was frightened. Thirdly, there was smoke in the air, something was burning. 
You stumbled out of bed when there was a pounding on the door. 
“Open the door!” A man yelled, the door knob shaking as he tried to open it himself. Your instincts were screaming at you that something was wrong. 
“Open up, and pay for your crimes!” He yelled again, this time throwing his weight against the door. 
That couldn’t be right? Crimes?
You crept closer to the front window, the wood shutters were pulled shut but there was a crack that you had peered through, unnoticed, many times before. This time, the sight that you were met with was horrific. There was a large, angry crowd with torches outside - illuminating the pitch black field around your home. 
You had heard of these events before, but never had you considered that you would become the victim of one, not when you were so isolated from the town. But it was happening now and you needed to act fast. 
You rushed to the corner where Binna hid and scooped her up into your arms blanket and all. Her snout sniffed at your bite wound before she began to settle down. You ran to the nursery and to the very back of the room where the crib sat. You gripped it with one hand and with a strength you didn’t know that you possessed you pulled it aside. Your heart pounded and your breath was coming in harsh pants as you moved to the window. 
“Binna,” You whispered, forcing yourself to make your voice as soft and soothing as you could. You had one priority right now and that was to get her safe. You had seen what those hunters were capable of before. “I need you to run as fast as you can, and I need you to find your daddy. Don’t stop running until you're safe, don’t stop no matter what you hear.”
Binna stared back at you, her ears perked up as her glossy silver eyes poured into your very soul. Binna was a little girl, but she was smarter than any human child. You trusted her. 
A loud thwack sounded from the front door, a sound that you weren’t all that unfamiliar with - it was the sound of an ax striking the door. Your motions became faster and more panicked than before, your nails ripping at the bottom of the window that groaned as you forced it open. You grunted and with one more hard push, it popped and raised and there was enough room that Binna could slide through. 
“Don’t stop running, be very brave.” You whispered before pressing a quick kiss to the space between her ears and lowering her as close to the ground as you could. And then, her body left your hand and her dark fur disappeared into the night. You could only hope that she could find help on time. 
You had a terrible feeling that you weren’t going to make it out of this. 
A loud crack and sharp splintering sounded from the front door and then the thud of boots entered the kitchen. You stayed as quiet as you could but you knew there was no hiding and you needed to buy Binna time. 
You slid an oil lamp off of the dresser and hid by the door, waiting for it to open. The boots approached quickly, they didn’t want to give you time to get away and they were hunting you down. This was nothing like the way Yoongi had hunted you, it was un-practiced, frantic, amateur. 
When the door to the nursery slammed open you brought the lamp down on the back of the man’s head and sent him crashing to the ground as blood pooled onto the wood. But when you darted out into the hallway, there was already someone else waiting for you. 
You swung the lamp towards him with a scream but he dodged, grabbing your wrists and bending them in such a way that a sharp scream echoed through the cottage as you lost your grip and the lamp shattered upon impact with the ground. 
The man from the nursery was up and moving and now he was behind you, pulling rope from his belt. 
“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, and before you could move he had punched you clean across your face, sending you sprawling on the ground. 
You could taste blood in your mouth as he straddled you from behind, wrapping the rope around your hands. 
“Get off of me!” You screamed, wriggling desperately but to no avail. All it earned you was another strike to your head that made your vision blurry and spotted. 
When you came to, you were being dragged out of your house. The door that Yoongi had painstakingly crafted was shattered. 
And, as soon as the three of you were outside, torches were thrown and the house was lit aflame. 
“No!” You screamed, guttural sounds that ripped through your throat. “No, no, no!”
Your husband had built that house. It was the only thing that you had left of him. It was yours, it was where you were supposed to make a family and grow old together. And now that dream, that life, was being burned to the ground. 
It was absolute chaos. 
The smell of smoke burned in your nose and made your eyes tear up on reflex. When you had thought of all the ways that you could possibly die, you had never considered this as an option. You wriggled violently in your bonds like a wild animal trapped in a snare. The rope was digging into your wrists leaving behind raw, bloody wounds. There was no escape, but you couldn’t help but try. If you didn’t free yourself, then this would be it. 
There had been a time where you craved nothing more than to be reunited with your deceased lover, but when faced with the frightening reality of death you wanted nothing more than to live. 
Violent, raw screams tore through your throat as you were held down to the ground. There were hands everywhere, gripping your shoulders, your legs, and one in particular that was knotted in your hair. 
“Silence, witch!” A man yelled, pressing down on your neck and forcing your face into the dirt. 
“Witch? Witch?!” You shrieked, another manic scream breaking up your words as you writhed against the ground. 
You could hear the murmurs of the crowd that surrounded you and with a strained eye you could see nearly the entire town gathered around you and the men that held you captive. It was clear what this was, but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that your own kind would turn on you like this. But that seemed to be your plight, those you tried to trust always turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 
The hand that was wound in your hair tightened its grasp spurring a pained gasp from you as they began to drag you. You could only desperately writhe in the dirt as you were pulled closer to the crowd. You were certainly a sight, your hair a deranged mess, filled with leaves and twigs with dirt smeared down your cheeks and staining the tips of your fingers. Their rough treatment of you had only served to make you appear as the very thing they feared. The thing they were accusing you of being. 
You finally came to a stop in front of the town elder, the men behind you forcing you into an upright position on your knees, your arms still painfully stretched behind your back. 
The elder looked at you in what could only be described as disgust. 
“Behold, the witch who has brought a curse upon our village,” He spoke, his voice raspy and low, causing silence to descend over the group in order to hear him. 
“I am no witch-“
“Quiet!” The man behind you yelled before delivering a harsh smack to the side of your head, forcing it to snap to the side as you cried in pain. 
“The accused has brought death to all of your doors. She who murdered her unborn child in a covenant with the devil and brought those beasts to our home, and she who slayed her husband to feed those wretched demons and seal their bond to her will continue to slaughter us where we stand. What say you, shall we stand by and allow this to happen?” The elder said, opening his arms to the crowd who voiced their agreement.
This was the man who had known you since you were a child, the very man who had approved your courtship with your husband, the same man that married the both of you. This was the man that would ultimately kill you. 
Yoongi was right, humans were horrible creatures.
Your body had gone limp, your head rolling forward as if your neck could no longer bear the weight of it. Desperate, wounded cries burst from your lips. You had not killed your baby, you had not killed your husband, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. They had already made their decision. 
“The punishment for these crimes shall be paid by that of which you are familiar,” The elder said, gesturing to a horrifying sight looming behind him, “Hellfire.” 
You couldn’t hear the screams that burned your throat, you could only feel them. There was a loud ringing in your ears and the feeling of your feet and shoulders digging into the ground as you were dragged toward the stake and unlit pyre before you. 
They were going to burn you alive. 
Your cries for help were left unanswered, there was not a single look of empathy on anyone in the crowd. He had truly convinced them all that the deaths that had plagued the town were because of you. They believed you were the one that had brought the shifters upon them even though that didn’t make sense, they had been there long before you and longer than they realized. But there was no getting through to them. What the elder spoke was considered divine nature.
You sounded like a wounded animal, horrific sobs and screams shaking your body as you were tied to the stake. Nausea swirled in your stomach and your heart pounded, the fear that you felt was indescribable. 
Vaguely, you understood that you were mumbling something repeatedly under your breath which was not helping your perception with the crowd. It looked like you were trying to cast a curse upon them. And if you could, you would. 
But what you were saying was far from that. All you could brokenly whisper was, “I did not kill my baby.” 
The scent of smoke became even stronger and from in between layers of your hair, you could see a torch flickering. The flames wavered, almost teasingly in nature, like it was deciding whether or not it would engulf you in its fiery embrace. Ultimately, that would not be its decision. 
“Return from whence you came, witch,” The man before you spoke, and with the crook of the elder’s finger, he lit the pyre.
Heat licked at your feet and ankles as the fire slowly but surely crept up the logs and branches piled around you. This would be a long, slow, tortuous end to your life and that was what they wanted. They wanted to put all of their rage, pain, and hatred onto you and they would make certain you experienced the full extent of their wrath. 
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you accepted your fate. You cried as you watched the flames lap at the edges of your skirt - eating away at the hem. In a matter of seconds it would eat the fabric away and begin charing flesh and bone. 
But it was when you lost all hope, that fate decided to play yet another trick on you. 
Frantic cries were coming from the crowd and when you raised your head you were shocked by the sight of six massive wolves emerging from the trees. It took no time for you to realize that they were just like Yoongi. Binna had made it back to them, she had gotten them to come and help you and thankfully she was nowhere in sight. 
The crowd pressed in closer to the elder, who’s face had gone gray at the sight of the wolves, as the six shifters surrounded them, corralling them all into one place. 
In the midst of the madness, you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you until you felt your ropes loosening. 
It was Yoongi. 
The fire was searing both of your clothes yet he remained, slicing through your bonds with deft hands. He had come for you, he had saved you. 
The moment your bonds slid from your hands he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the stake and pyre, the two of you sinking down to the ground in each other’s embrace. 
“Yoongi,” You choked, your lungs thick with smoke and ash. 
“Shh,” he hushed you, “just breathe, breathe for me sweetheart, just like that.” 
His hand came to rest on your chest while he guided yours to his, taking in exaggerated breaths so that you could follow him. 
Yoongi was many things: your husband's killer, your captor, your protector, and lastly - your savior. It was impossible for you to describe what you felt for him as it was no longer black and white. If there was anything you did believe, it was that nothing was ever that simple. There are many truths and many lies, it all was dependent on what you wanted to believe. 
You coughed again, the force of it shaking your entire body as Yoongi pulled you into himself tighter. You were in his lap, chest to chest, with his nose buried in your hair. You could feel him breathing in your scent, a growl radiating through his chest when he realized it had been tainted by smoke and other men. 
“I thought I lost you too,” he sighed before pressing a desperate kiss to your temple and then your cheek. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 
“Help us!” That raspy voice called out to you again. 
You slowly turned your head to face the elder who had placed himself in the middle of the crowd, using the bodies of his people to shield him from the wolves that were steadily circling them.
Help them. 
Help them? 
Help them?!
You cocked your head to the side, a look of bewilderment and rage taking over your features. Why should you help them? After what they had done to you? After what they had accused you of? 
Humans were horrible. You didn’t need them, after all, you much preferred to be alone. 
You didn’t need other humans. 
“Yoongi?” You whispered, maintaining eye contact with the elder. 
“Yes?” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 
“Kill them all.”
You felt his warm finger trace the curve of your jaw before turning your face in his direction. He looked down at you in a mix of adoration and excitement before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss. 
“As you wish,” He murmured before setting you down on the ground and joining his brothers. 
In a matter of seconds he burst free from his skin, a giant wolf in his place alongside the tattered remains of his clothes. The crowd screamed in fright from the sight of his transformation and then from the massive fangs of seven wolves. 
You sat there, knees drawn into your chest as you watched Yoongi carve his way through the crowd and toward the elder. And, with great ease, he forced the man to the ground and ripped his head clean from his shoulders. A large spurt of blood soared through the smoggy air, painting the grass a vibrant color. 
You watched on as several more people were felled by the shifters, their gruesome screams quieted by large jaws and hooked claws. 
You were numb, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about their lives that were swiftly ended - their souls ripped from their bodies.
You craned your neck back and stared up at the full moon, eyes dull, red, and finally dry as more gurgled screams were silenced. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
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diejager · 6 months ago
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could you maybe do more of the Phoenix series or is that discontinued? But if you're still working on it can you maybe do something like monster TF 141 use hunter as a heater? Ik if it doesn't make any sense but like monster TF 141 are on a mission and its horribly cold and they're actually cold so hunter just walks up and turns into a phoenix? and just starts heating up the room 141 is in. idk I just have had this idea in my head for a while
Cw: human heating, tell me if I missed any. Note: Nope! It’s still on going, well, at least the original Au of the Phoenix hybrid!reader spinoff.
“I’ll have a bloody word with the tosser who sent us here,” Soap hissed, body wracked with tremors as he breathed into his mittened hands, hoping that the small bit of heat would warm him just a bit more than the failing heating system of their Siberian  safehouse.
They had planed to rest and warm up their temporary residence while Price took Ghost and you to survey the area, all warmly covered but mostly immune to such cold temperature. A dragon rarely needed anything other than the beating fire in their heart, kindled and powerful; a wraith, long since dead, had no worry about feeling cold or warm, only hunger and anger; and a phoenix, whose body was stuck in a perpetual cycle of life and death, had no fear of being cold when they were an embodiment of life’s fire. 
It was only natural that Price took the only people who could withstand the harshness of Siberia for a long and careful inspection when the others would freeze and shake in their thick boots and warm coats. They safehouse looked old, surfaces covered in a thin layer of dust, shelves filled with canned food - both expired and unexpired- and walls and floors as frozen as the loud winds blowing against the thick windows. It wasn’t much of a surprise that something would malfunction, the soviet era building left to appear rotten and forgotten to fit it’s intended use, and it seemed to lack any sort of upkeep. 
“We’re freezing our arses off in here!” Soap growled out, leaning closer to Gaz’s side to steal more warmth from under his wing, the soft feathers all ruffled, “Can’t even-”
Crunch
The two perked up, hands immediately reaching for their weapons, bodies tense and ready for a fire fight until your head popped in, huffing about the melted snow soaking your clothes. They jumped to their feet, running to your side for a lick of warmth that oozed off your skin. You froze at the grabbing hands, pulling you to the cold sofa and pushed under a mass of groaning and moaning bodies, happily soaking in your fire.
“Let me- ” you squirmed between them, shuffling out from under them to stretch your arms and back.
The four watched your neck crack with a wince, flames erupting from your feet, wild and bright embers licking at your skin until it engulfed you in a fiery blaze. It was both too hot to touch and too strong to approach, a fire that would threaten to burn if they touched you. It worked to protect you from an early death while you shifted into the majestic bird you were, a gentle flame in the form of orange and yellow feathers, softer than any silk and warmer than any suns. 
In your place stood a phoenix, lashes fluttering while your flapped your wings, stretched backwards to scratch the itch from the lack of use. You cooed, preening under their awed expressions before you flew back in your prior position, body heat growing hotter and hotter, strong enough to warm up the entire room. 
“Thank you, Hunter,” Gaz smiled at you, a sweet and grateful grin that made your feathers shyly ruffle up.
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