#hello he has a cat ear heart to deliver can someone give him the right address? DO SOMETHING.

[hyunpic]

where the.. where the FUCK is it [the camera]

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: six ( 15.5k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

what is hybrid marking

8.2 million results. 

While scent mixing (heretofore referred to as ‘scenting’) is temporary and lasts a maximum of twelve hours if left undisturbed, scent marking (‘marking’ in common parlance) is semi-permanent. A ‘mark’ is created when the pheromones present in a hybrid’s bodily fluids are applied directly to their markee’s skin. When said chemical compounds seep below the epidermis and bond to the sweat glands found within the dermal layer of the skin, the target has been officially ‘marked’. Between domesticated hybrids and their human caretakers, this is most commonly done by applying hybrid saliva to the skin of the neck, where a human’s scent tends to be strongest. While the behavior involved in marking resembles some aspects of human foreplay, it is a non-sexual expression of mutual trust and affection. It is important to note that most hybrids of age are able to mitigate the oral secretion of pheromones and cannot mark accidentally-

“How do I look?” 

The sound of Jimin’s voice makes you jump. You fumble with your phone, trying to exit out of the website, shove it in your pocket and look at the leopard hybrid’s outfit at the same time.

“You look great!” You tell him once the device is safely tucked away.

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’ve said that about everything I’ve shown you.”

You had, but only because it was true. No matter what the trio of hybrids tried on, they all looked great. You weren’t sure what it was, but seeing them in something other than neutral sweat suits made them look even better than they already had. You were discovering they all had unique senses of fashion too. Taehyung preferred earth tones, soft fabrics and slouchy cardigans, Yoongi tended toward plaid overshirts and dark denim and Jimin had just come out of the dressing room in his sixth button down and second pair of chelsea boots. 

When the four of you had arrived at the mall that afternoon, you’d told them to go wild and call you when they were ready to check out. There was an entire section of the shopping center that catered specifically to hybrids and you were certain they’d be able to find everything they needed and more. You’d been all set to sequester yourself in a booth in the food court and indulge your hybrid research habit, but Taehyung had fixed you with a forlorn look the moment you tried to part with them and Jimin had insisted that you personally review every piece of clothing he put on. You wouldn’t deny that you were having fun, but surreptitiously trying to google what every little thing they did meant without getting caught was getting harder and harder. 

Jimin breezes past you to the semi-circle of mirrors on the far end of the fitting rooms, brushing his tail against your shins as he passes. That was another thing that had changed. Since the talk you’d had with the boys last night, it seemed like they were always finding some excuse to touch you or brush up against you . You didn’t know if it was a manifestation of their cat genes or them just wanting physical reassurance that you were there, but it seemed like every time you turned around there was a tail curling around your calf or a nose tip against your ear or a shoulder brushing your own. You were practically wreathed in them. Even Yoongi hadn’t seemed to mind when your fingertips had brushed against each other at breakfast when you’d passed him the juice. You didn’t know if you should count that as progress, but you want to. 

You’re not entirely used to physical contact and nearly every time Taehyung rubs his cheek on the top of your head or Jimin reaches out to link your fingers together, you jump. It feels strange, to have people be so blatantly physically affectionate with you. It’s not like you dislike it, exactly, it’ll just take some getting used to. Whatever adjustments you need to make, you know you’ll need to make them quickly. You don’t think the hybrids will give up on friendly hugs just because you never initiate them first.  

“Y/N-ah,”Jimin calls, catching your attention. He’s twisting this way and that on the platform, trying to catch his reflection in every possible angle. He hums in disappointment as he turns back to the front, tail waving behind him. “This collar,” he says, tugging on the offending band of bright green plastic around his neck, “-is ruining my outfit. We’ll need to get real ones today.” 

You feel like a stone has settled in your stomach. Your shoulders sag, but if the leopard hybrid notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, you’re right.” In truth, you’d hoped to put it off for a little while longer. Collaring and leashing a hybrid had always seemed odd to you. After all, weren’t they people too? The law was the law, you knew, but something about publicly and visibly marking someone as property...well, the morality of it was gray at best. The temporary collars had provided you with a stay from the inevitable, but there was no avoiding it any longer, you supposed. They’d have to get collars. 

“I saw a store for them a couple shops down,” Taehyung supplies as he steps out of his dressing room in a white linen shirt and cream drawstring pants. “We could go there?” 

“That works for me...Taehyung, one of your buttons is in the wrong hole.” 

The tiger hybrid squints down at his shirt, feels blindly for the hole he missed, but can’t seem to find it. 

“No,” you tell him. “Not that one, the other- do you just want me to fix it?”

He pauses and looks up at you for a solid three seconds before giving a single, slow nod. 

You come to stand in front of him and start undoing the buttons from the top. There’s only four of them but each one you pop open reveals more and more of his honey brown skin and prominent collar bones. Your fingers brush his skin accidentally and he chuffs happily, one hand resting on your lower back as you start buttoning him up again. Heat starts crawling up your neck unbidden. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, you can feel the warmth of his palm, how long his fingers are. He presses you closer until your arms are nearly flat against your chest as you try to finish buttoning him up. It’s hard to move squished between the insistent pressure of his hand and the- surprisingly- hard line of his body, but you make do. “There!” You pat him gently on the chest as you finish the last button. “All done.”

He dips forward and rubs his cheek against your forehead, rumbling so deep in his chest that the vibrations pass into you. “Thank you.” He releases you and pulls away, but as he does, his lips brush against your hairline. You try not to read too deep into it. 

The tiger hybrid sidles over to his friend in the mirror, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and dipping his head into his neck. Jimin reaches back and scratches behind one of his ears and your heart swells in your chest. It was nice to see them be so openly affectionate with each other. They’re so close in a way you can’t even begin to understand. It’s beautiful. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you thumb the screen to life. An incoming call from Mr. Seo. “You guys keep trying stuff on,” you tell the pair, already standing to make your way out of the dressing room. “I’ve gotta take this.”  They both call at you to hurry back and you give them a shout of assent as you rush away. 

The second you’re outside the store, you answer. “Hello?”

“Ms. L/N,” Mr. Seo’s voice crackles on the other end of the line. “I trust you’ve settled in well.” It isn’t a question and the tone of his voice makes it clear that he doesn’t wish to spend what precious time he has exchanging pleasantries with you. 

“Yeah, everything’s okay.” Everything had most certainly not been okay when you’d emergency dialed him two days ago about the tiger on your couch. The text he’d sent you back six hours later had told you to figure it out. You had and you knew you weren’t his responsibility, but him tossing you in the deep end was still a sore spot for you. 

“There’s been a change of plans.” 

You grimace. Straight to it, then. “What’s going on?” 

“Black Mountain Canines- the company your uncle purchased two of the hybrids from- changed their pick-up date. They want you to come get them in person today.”

“Pick-up?” You frown. “No, they were supposed to drop them off.”

“They were,” Mr. Seo confirms, “But it’s apparently no longer profitable for them to drive all the way into Seoul to hand-deliver two of their charges. They also claim they’re incurring additional expenses by feeding and housing two hybrids who’ve already been purchased, but we’ll see about that when we arrive.”

Your anxiety spikes and your fingers wrap tighter around your phone. You’d promised the boys a whole day out. All you’d done so far was get them phones of their own and furniture for their room. There was still so much to do, so much to see. “What about Yoongi and Jimin and Taehyung?” You blurt out.

Mr. Seo sighs and his breath crackles over the receiver. “Those are the cats, I assume? I suggest you let them know sooner rather than later that they’ll have to share their space.” There’s a flurry of movement on his end of the line, the sound of someone calling his name and papers shuffling. “I have to go; they need me to look over some case files.” He tells you. “I’ll be at Haneul Tower to pick you up in three hours. Be downstairs waiting.”And the line clicks off. 

You sigh and hang up. What were you going to tell the boys? Day one of your new friendship and you were already breaking promises. 

“Trouble?” Yoongi’s voice right behind you makes you flinch and whirl on him. His ears press back against his head and he takes a step back at your sudden movements. 

“Sorry!” You tell him, forcing your spine to relax. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there; I thought you were still shopping. ”

“I can tell,” he snarks, but there’s no heat behind it. His eyes trace the line of your shoulders, still tense and flick to the phone in your hand. “I dropped my stuff at the register. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, nerves making your stomach ache. “C’mon,” you tell him, walking back into the store. “Let’s pay and grab some lunch. I’ll tell you when we sit down.” He follows after you a few paces behind, trying not to let worry prick in him at the anxious shift in your scent. Something was about to change, he was sure, and not entirely for the better. 

Twenty minutes later, the four of you are sitting in the food court, a mess of shopping bags at your feet and a bowl of tteokbokki between you. Yoongi and Jimin had picked out all the fish cakes first and were bickering good-naturedly over who the last one should go to, but Taehyung seemed content to just gnaw at his rice cakes. You’d hardly touched anything, your eyes flicking back to the time on your phone. 1:20 P.M. Two hours and forty minutes ‘til Mr. Seo would be at your apartment to pick you up and bring you to get two more of the hybrids your uncle had bought. You push a rice cake around on your paper plate with the end of your chopstick. Well, no point delaying the inevitable. 

“Hey, guys?” You call softly. Three pairs of ears swivel toward you immediately. The words die in your throat and your tongue feels like lead as they look at you, all their eyes focused and expectant. You clear your throat and force yourself to continue. “So...you know how I…” You search for the right word, but there’s really no other way to say it. “...inherited you guys from my uncle?” 

Taehyung’s eyes flick toward Jimin and the leopard hybrid brushes his tail against the tiger’s. Silent communication you couldn’t even begin to decipher. “Yeah,” Yoongi says, tossing his chopsticks down and leaning back in his chair. “I told them.”

That was right. What you’d blurted out at Yoongi yesterday on the street you had yet to disclose to his juniors. “Thanks, Yoongi,” You tell him, meaning every word of it. He’d spared you from yet another uncomfortable conversation. 

“...For what it’s worth, we’re glad it’s you,” Taehyung tells you, his tail twining around your ankle under the table. He looks at his hyungs for confirmation and when neither of them deny it, he settles his amber gaze back on you. “We like being here with you, even if you didn’t pick us. It’s...It’s nice.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words. He beams at you, his boxy smile soft despite the sharp incisors poking his bottom lip. “I like having you guys around, too,” you admit, taking the time to meet each of their eyes. Jimin purrs as you look at him, the corners of his mouth curling. When your gaze meets Yoongi’s, his ears twitch but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blink either, just holds your stare with an intensity that makes heat crawl up your neck. You suddenly remember the warm stretch of his body over your’s, the sensation of his lips against your neck. You snatch your eyes away and cough to cover your lapse in speech.  “It would’ve been scary, I think, if I had to deal with all this alone.” 

You couldn’t even imagine it.That clinically clean apartment with its blank white walls and its imposing emptiness would have driven you down until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d always had a little pit of loneliness inside you. You didn’t know how long it’d been there. Maybe it always had been, a seed of something sad and dark at the core of your soul. You’d done well keeping it contained. You felt it in your goshiwon, but your room was small. It couldn’t grow beyond your keeping. In Oliver’s penthouse, it would’ve had endless room to sprawl and with no one to clip it back, you would’ve choked to death on vines of doubt.

“There are others,” you tell them, before you can down spiral into the mire of your own thoughts. “He bought other hybrids before he died. They weren’t supposed to be coming until next week but their company wants me to come get them today.” 

The mood at the table shifts almost immediately. Taehyung’s ears and tail sag, Jimin’s smile goes sharp at the edges and Yoongi’s lip curls. “How many others?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You notice he does that when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. It’s a defense mechanism, no matter how at ease it makes him seem. 

“Four,” you answer and the bobcat hybrid’s ears tilt back in irritation. “Two are coming home today and the other two toward the end of next week.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, but you see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. He’s annoyed. Taehyung drops a hand onto the smaller hybrid’s back and rubs circles in it, trying to soothe him. 

“Maybe it’ll be okay?” The tiger hybrid offers. He’s trying his best to be diplomatic, but you hear the strain in the deep timbre of his voice. “Having other cats around again might be nice. We used to live with a lot back at the center…”

You wince. “...they’re canines.” Almost immediately, all of their ears go flat against their skulls and they hiss in unison. Yoongi stifles himself the quickest, setting a hand on Jimin’s knee and squeezing to get the leopard hybrid to get a hold of himself. 

“Hybrids of different species don’t play well together,” he explains. “Especially not when our animals are solitary in the wild. The only reason Jimin, Tae and I are able to stand sharing the same territory is because we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve had to do it before.”

Before? A question forms in the back of your mind, but now isn’t the time to ask it.

“We don’t like sharing what’s ours,” Jimin continues for his hyung, interlocking his fingers with yours on the plastic table top. “It’s instinctual.”

“I know, I know.” You squeeze his hand lightly, trying to reassure him. “But the apartment is big; can’t you avoid each other starting out?”

All three of them give you a strange look and Jimin’s lips curl in a way that isn’t quite a smile. “...right,” he purrs, a little delayed. “The apartment.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiety sinking its claws into you. “I’m really sorry to spring this on you guys, I know it’s not great, but…” Your shoulders sag. “I don’t want to have promised someone a home and rip the rug out from under them, you know?” You knew what that felt like. You wouldn’t wish that feeling on your worst enemy. “I’m just...I’m worried that they’re not being treated well.”

“They were up for sale,” Yoongi drawls. “They definitely aren’t.” 

The taxi ride back to Haneul Tower is uncomfortably quiet. Jimin still holds your hand and Taehyung still leans on your shoulder, but nobody says a word. You help them carry their bags upstairs and drop them off in the master bedroom. You’d told them they could have separate rooms if they wanted, but they’d insisted on sharing, so you thought it was only fair that they get the largest room in the penthouse. Clothes went onto hangars and into closets and before you knew it, there were only ten minutes until Mr. Seo’s arrival. 

“You don’t have to go,” Taehyung huffs. He’s got you wrapped in a bear- well, you suppose a tiger hug and his cheek is mashed against the top of your head. You don’t even think he’s actively scenting you at this point, just keeping you from leaving. “Send your assistant instead and stay here with us.”

You let out a puff of laughter and pat the hybrid on the back in a way you hope is soothing. “Mr. Seo isn’t my assistant, buddy, he’s my uncle’s attorney.” You give a little tug away from him and he lets you go, albeit with a sad little mrow that makes him sound just like a disappointed cat. “I couldn’t ask him to do that. The only reason he’s coming is because they broke the contract. And I can’t drive.” 

The look Taehyung gives you is so downtrodden that you toy with the idea of calling the whole day off and staying with them- but no. You can’t bail out now, especially not with what you’d put Mr. Seo through when the first group of hybrids were delivered. “I’ll be back before you know it,” You tell him with a steadfast smile. 

“You’d better,” Jimin says, nudging the taller hybrid out of the way. Taehyung gives a half-hearted growl, but settles as Yoongi squeezes his shoulder. “The longer you’re away, the longer you’ll have to sit in the stench of those mutts.”

You frown. “Jimin-”

“Only joking,” He soothes, bringing both of your hands up to his cheeks. You don’t believe him, but you don’t press it. The leopard hybrid nuzzles into your palms, purring happily at the feeling of your skin against his. Your palms nearly burn from how warm he is. You feel a warm puff of air against your fingers and tense as Jimin presses all ten of them against his lips. 

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice is hard, but his junior’s lips curl up in a satisfied smile, one of his incisors pricking at the pad of your index finger. 

“Hurry back,” he murmurs. You try not to shiver at the feeling of his plush lips moving against your oversensitive fingertips. 

“I’ll do my best!” You say,  a pained smile tugging your lips apart. He hums in response and drops your hands, his fingers trailing across yours as he lets you go. 

“Hyung,” he calls over his shoulder. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Y/N-ah?”

“Don’t let them scent you.” Is all Yoongi says as he breezes toward the stairs. “You know better now.” 

It’s as much as you were expecting. “I’ll see you guys later,” You tell them as you head out the door. “Finish setting your phones up and text me if you need anything!”

True to his word, Mr. Seo is parked out front at 4 o’clock on the dot. You haven’t seen him in a little over a week and you’d almost forgotten how imposing he was. He cuts a sharp figure against the backdrop of the bustling street, dressed in all black and leaning against a brand new Buick Enclave. The poor valet stationed at the front door looks like he’s been trying to work up the courage to ask to park his car for the past twenty minutes and sags in relief as you start heading over.

The lawyer dips his head in acknowledgement at you and checks his watch. “Miracle of miracles,” he says, popping open the passenger side door for you. “You’re on time.”

“I was late one time,” you huff, sliding past him and into your seat.

“And that was enough,” he snips back, closing your door before you can come up with a retort. You grumble to yourself, but don’t press him. You know he’s right. He’d gone out of his way to help you and you’d put him out. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him as he settles into his seat and reaches for his seatbelt. “It won’t happen again; I know you’ve got other things to do.”

He stills and looks at you over the gold frames of his glasses. For a long moment he holds your gaze, unblinking. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Had you done something wrong? 

Finally Mr. Seo blinks and finishes buckling himself in. “I apologize for staring, I wasn’t sure if I’d heard you correctly.” He push starts his car and pulls away from the curb. “I never thought I’d see the day a L/N would apologize to me.” He edges the car into the steady stream of Seoul traffic and you’re off, zooming toward the freeway.

Silence fills the car again, but as Mr. Seo takes on-ramp, you work up the courage to ask your question. “Did Oliver never apologize to you?”

Mr. Seo snorts and it’s such an undignified sound that you almost can’t believe it comes from him. “You could tell your uncle the sky was blue and he’d argue that it was red until he was. And your grandfather-” He seems to catch himself, reigning back whatever meager bits of his personality had managed to slip through the cracks in his normally flawless veneer. You’re all ears.

Up until a week and a half ago, you hadn’t known you had any family, much less an uncle who owned buildings and bugattis. Now you were finding out that you had a grandfather too. “What about my grandfather?” The word feels strange in your mouth. It’d been years since you’d followed the word ‘my’ up with any type of familial relation. 

Mr. Seo cuts his eyes at you, and flicks them back to the front. “Nothing,” he replies, clearly done talking about him. “I spoke out of turn.” He reaches forward and turns on the radio, the sound of national news filling the silence.

You pout and slouch in your seat, disappointment setting in as the promise of new information slipped out of your grasp.

The rest of the drive is easy. Mr. Seo takes the highway out of Seoul and up into the foothills but you’re asleep before he even finds the exit. You’d slept more in the past two days than you had in the previous three weeks, but it seemed like years of bad habits were catching up to you.

Last night, you’d passed out halfway through the second movie snuggled up between Jimin and Taehyung. They’d been so warm and soft and the quiet thrumming of their heartbeats had lulled you to sleep before you knew what was happening.You’d woken up with them still curled around you and -maybe most surprising of all- Yoongi plating breakfast in the kitchen.

Still, it seemed even twelve hours of the best sleep you’d gotten in years and a peaceful morning devoid of stress -for the most part- hadn’t been enough.

You wake up just as the asphalt transitions into gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires and the car’s shaking waking you up. You’re bleary-eyed and confused, but a sign up ahead snaps you to wakefulness. Standing like a guardian over a chain link fence topped with barbed wire is a metal sign, imposing as it is tall: Black Mountain K-9s, written in stark font.

“We’re here,” Mr. Seo says, as if it’s not obvious. He kills the engine and without its purring to distract you, you feel nerves starting to boil in your belly. What kind of place was this? You half expect sinister organ music to kick on and lightning to start flashing from black clouds. Neither of those things happen, though. The sky remains startlingly clear and the only things you can pick up are the sounds of whistles being blown, dozens of people doing call and response, and one voice, louder than all the others screaming for people to ‘Run faster! Get those knees up!’

You pop the door and step out of the car before Mr. Seo can open it for you and head around to the nose of the car, taking in the compound. 

“This facility produces some of the highest caliber bodyguards in the country,” He says, coming to stand beside you. The attorney rebuttons his suit jacket and flicks his sleeves up before settling his arms over his chest. “Politicians, celebrities, even a few former presidents all have hybrids from this training center.”

“It looks more like a prison,” You remark, nodding toward the barbed wire. “First big cat hybrids, now this...Why didn’t Oliver just get regular pets if he was lonely? Was he worried someone was after him?” 

“Anything I can tell you would be pure speculation,” He replies, walking away from you and heading for the callbox. “Your uncle very rarely confided in me.”

“But you were his attorney.” 

For just a second, the tight grip Mr. Seo has on his composure slips. His lips press together and his shoulders sag- but just as quickly as it’d lapsed, his mask is in place again. “Yes,” he says after a beat. “I was.” And he presses the button on the call box before you can pester him with any more questions about the dead men he’d known.

The call box crackles to life, speakers squealing with feedback. You flinch and slap your hands over your ears to protect them from the splitting sound. Mr. Seo doesn’t react at all and you’re stunned, wondering how he can stand it.

“Seo Seunghan and Y/N L/N for Lim Hangyeol.” 

The person on the other end doesn’t respond. The speaker cuts and a second later, the metal gate before you starts rolling to the side, pushed by invisible hands. It’s like a curtain going up at the theater. 

Before you lies a wide, dusty yard, devoid of any plant life. The thick-trunked trees and lush grasses of the surrounding mountainside had been stripped down to the roots here. All that remains are a few weeds poking out around the base of the long metal buildings that ring the fence, and even those seem like an intrusion. People are making use of the space in whatever way they can. A group of people with matching cropped black ears and docked tails run past you in four straight lines, all perfectly in step with each other. Over to your right, there’s a pack of teenagers working in pairs to scale a ten-foot tall sheer wooden wall and in the center of the field, twenty kids are running through taekwondo forms, supervised by a widely smiling instructor.

You’re in awe of it all. Every single person is like a cog in a well-oiled machine, all in the same black tactical pants and compression shirt. You’d never seen so many hybrids in one place before and certainly not all of the same breed.

Mr. Seo places a hand in the center of your back, steering you away from staring and toward a squat cement building.You let him lead you.

“When we get inside,” the lawyer begins, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “Let me speak first. If we can get him to admit to breaching the contract right away, it’ll be much easier to get him to agree to a settlement.”

You frown at that. “Why would we settle?” You ask him. “It’s not like I need the money.”

“It’s a matter of principle, Ms. L/N.” He sighs, pulling open the heavy metal door and ushering you into the building. “He did something wrong, and it’s most easy for him to bear the brunt of atonement financially. Without requiring damages be paid for breaches, contract law would collapse.” 

“Can’t you just have him apologize?”

Mr. Seo’s mouth twists up like he’s just tasted something unpleasant. “As you attorney, it is my duty to advise you against accepting restitution in the form of an apology. You’ll get a reputation for being a pushover.” 

You wanted to be anything but. “Alright, alright,” you concede, “Do whatever you think is best.”

The building you’ve ducked into seems to be an office. Along one wall are a set of metal folding chairs doing their best impression of a waiting room. Along the other is a metal door covered in peeling paint and one suspicious dent bearing a plaque that reads ‘DIRECTOR LIM’. Set between you and it is a desk covered in a mess of paperwork. An old desktop stands among it like an island in the ocean and middle aged hybrid woman in coke bottle glasses is hunched before it, tapping away at the keyboard at a mind-boggling speed. One of her ears twitches as the pair of you approach. 

“Take a seat,” she orders in a reedy voice, not bothering to look up from her work. “The Director will be with you shortly.”

“Send them in, Eunjung!” Someone shouts from behind the metal door  just as she’s finished. She doesn’t look up or stop typing or even acknowledge you two again. Mr. Seo takes it upon himself to breeze past her desk and open the door for you. 

The office is militaristically organized, all right angles and bare metal surfaces. There’s a black leather couch that’d seen better days to your left as you enter, a half empty water cooler to your right. Bookshelves lined with trophies and textbooks dominate the western wall. You scan the titles as you pass: Predatory Instinct: The Teaching and Training Canines, The Utility of Force, On Raising Hybrids, The Art of War, all dangerous and daunting as the man they belonged to.

Lim Hangyeol is the most grizzled man you’ve ever seen and the only other human besides yourself and Mr. Seo in the compound, it seems. He looks like a drill sergeant from an old action movie, his salt and pepper hair buzzed short and his face craggy with frown lines. There’s a semicircle of pockmark scars marring the skin of his right cheek and as you get closer, you realize they’re teeth marks. You shoot a concerned look to Mr. Seo, but he’s more focused on giving the director a shallow bow than allaying any of your fears. 

“Director,” He says, straightening back up. “Thank you for having us-”

“Spare me the bullshit,” The older man orders, kicking back his office chair and sinking back into it. “Take a seat. Let’s talk business.” 

A cold smile settles on your attorney’s lips and you see a cord twitching in his jaw, but he merely nods and replies in a breezy voice, “Of course.” 

The two of you do as you told, settling into two metal chairs in front of his desk. These ones are nicer than the folding ones in the waiting room, but no more comfortable. You try to slide yours forward only to find that it’s bolted to the floor. 

“Stops the dogs from throwin’ em when they get bad news,” Director Lim tells you as you uselessly tug at the legs. “Got tired of replacing windows.”

You grimace. If the awards on the bookshelf, what Mr. Seo had told you and the dozens of hybrids running boot camp drills outside were any indication, the man before you must’ve had some idea what he was doing. You didn’t end up providing security for high profile public figures without a smidge of credibility, you knew, but the bite marks on his cheek, the little crack about people throwing chairs at him and the way he’d referred to them as ‘dogs’ didn’t inspire confidence in you. 

This was your first time visiting a place that produced hybrids, you realized. You’d never even been into a shelter before and certainly not a breeding center. Were they all like this? Devoid of anything soft or comforting, rigid with rules and regulations? Had Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung come from a place like this? You don’t know and you’re not sure you’d like the answer if you did. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice,” Mr. Seo starts, popping open the hinges on his briefcase and pulling out a few sheaves of paper. “After the sudden cancellation of your company’s contract with Ms. L/N, I was concerned for the state of our business relationship.” He slides one of the packets across the desk to the director. 

“If I remember correctly,” Director Lim says, scanning the lines of ink and unintelligible legalese, “Me and your boss signed for delivery, not me and whoever this little girl is you brought.” 

Your eyes narrow and your lips curl, but before you can give voice to the nasty thing crawling up your throat, Mr. Seo gives a subtle shake of his head and taps you twice on the knee, out of eyeshot of the director. You grumble, but cage it behind your teeth. 

“See?” The man jabs one gnarled finger at the page, right over your late uncle’s flourishing signature. “It says it right there: L/N Oliver. Last I checked, he was dead. I’m not holding on to a dead man’s dogs. ”

That same muscle tenses in Mr. Seo’s jaw. “The contract states that Black Mountain Canines would deliver the hybrids my client purchased to his residence on December the eighteenth and that they would be received by a proxy if he was unavailable. You were made aware of the fact that he was unavailable, as well as the fact that he now has a proxy-

“I’ll pay the goddamn fine!” The Director barks, throwing his hands up in the air. “Christ above, I don’t know why he wanted those two fuck-ups in the first place, but I don’t want them on my property a second longer.” 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look of confusion, but he just watches, blasé, as the Director rifles through his desk drawers. The man finds what he’s looking for and drops two manila folders on top of the contract. “The pair of them are useless. If it weren’t for my reputation, I’d’ve had them both sent to shelters years ago. Or put down, but you know how touchy the law is about that.”

“I don’t.” You say, your voice edging dangerously close to a snarl. It slips out before you can stop it. Mr. Seo shoots you a warning look and you ball your fists up in your sweater sleeves, fingernails biting crescent moons into your palms with the effort of keeping your mouth shut. 

You can’t stand this man, you decide. He’s awful. You should’ve known that from the moment you saw elementary school aged hybrids stumbling through taekwondo drills with their ears taped and bandages on their tails. You’re going to take whatever hybrids Oliver bought, get them the fuck out of there and never look back. 

If Director Lim had heard you growl at him, he gives no sign of it, just flips open the folders. “To be honest, I should be paying you to take them off my hands. They’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since they aged out of training. I told your uncle he could have his pick of the litter for what he was paying, but he wanted a wide-eyed buffoon and a mutt who’d rip your hand off soon as look at you.” Clipped to the insides are photos of two men, staring back at you in black and white. 

One has the same black and tan cropped ears as every other hybrid you’ve seen thus far. Unlike them, he’s smiling. His eyes are little upturned crescent moons and he beams at you through the photo paper. There’s so much light in his face it’s nearly blinding. 

The other is not nearly as inviting. The photo is taken at an odd angle and it’s blurry at the edges, like whoever took it was much shorter than the subject and had to zoom in to even get the shot. His ears, larger than any of the other hybrids and longer furred, are pinned back against his head. His jaw is clenched and he glowers down into the lens, one eye soot black and the other piercing blue. 

There are stats listed on the pages behind their photos: height, weight, shot records and the like. Among them, you see their call signs, highlighted in yellow: Hope and Monster. 

“I don’t know where I went wrong with him,” the director says, tapping Hope’s photo. “He went through all the training, passed all the tests, but when it comes down to it, he just doesn’t have the instinct.” He gives a single shake of his head, clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “No one wants a guard dog that’d sooner talk an intruder’s ear off than actually guard what he’s supposed to. He’s not good for much but nannying the pups, but he’s too soft on them too.”

A light bulb clicks on and you realize the hybrid in question had been the one instructing the kids outside in the center of the yard, his tail wagging a mile a minute as they completed another form correctly.

“Now this bastard…” the director continues, jamming a finger onto the second photo with so much force, it rattled the cup of pens on his desk. “Is my biggest failure.” He crosses his arms and kicks back in his chair, his dislike of the hybrid in question obvious. “His mother was the cornerstone of this facility for nearly a decade. I sold her pups to assemblymen and actors alike. Centers around the country wanted pups with her genetics. If it weren’t for her, we’d never have grown to this size.” He sounds wistful as he spreads his hands out, gesturing around himself like a king taking in his holdings. “But all good things come to an end,” He sighs. “A pack of wild hybrids settled a little higher up on the mountain.” His face darkens and his lips twist. “Wolves,” he snarls with all the disdain he can muster. 

“All that about them being noble and self-sacrificing? Complete and utter bullshit,” He scoffs. “They’re transient lowlifes who’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. At first I didn’t care. They stayed on their side of the mountain and I stayed on mine, but then they started sneaking down here at night to steal my food and fuck my dogs. By the time I managed to get the cops out here, they’d cleared out and my top breeder had gone with them.”

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “I tell you, I thought I was ruined. But wouldn’t you know it, she came stumbling back here six months later, barefoot and howling to be let in and heavy with some wild thing’s pup.” Director Lim snaps both the folders shut and slides them to you across the desk. “The thing about breeding hybrids is, the money’s all in the bloodlines. No one wants a dog with mystery genetics. The only way to solve that problem is to cut it off at the root- but it was already too late by the time she got here.” 

You feel sick to your stomach. You hope he isn’t implying what you think he is- that hybrid children he hadn’t planned out himself were mistakes in need of correction- but you know he is. Deep in your gut you know.

“And she spoiled him. She let him run roughshod over everyone and everybody in this compound. I tried telling her wild hybrids need a firmer hand- he certainly did if we were gonna break that wolf he’s got inside him, but she wouldn’t hear it. I tried to crop him with the other pups his age, he gave me these,” he said, gesturing to the teeth marks in his cheeks. “We keep him shut up away from the others, now, in the back when he can’t bother anyone. He gets his meals delivered but we don’t ever let him out.” The grizzled man shakes his head. “A drain on resources is what he is.”

“And his mother?” You ask, quietly. 

“Eunjung?” he questions. “You met her on the way in.” The director stands and unclips a ring of keys from his belt buckle, making his way around the desk and gesturing for you and Mr. Seo to follow. “I’ve got her doing desk work now. Gotta keep her close so she doesn’t cause any more trouble.” He pushes open the door to his office, barks something at his secretary and steps outside, not looking back to see if you two are following. 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look before you stand and he meets it, evenly. “We’ll discuss this in the car,” he says, stuffing papers back into his briefcase and flicking the clasps shut. Oh, you most certainly will discuss ‘it’ in the car. 

You don’t really know what it is or where to even begin. The kids with bandaged ears? The fact that Director Lim seemingly decided who was allowed to see the sun and who wasn’t? You think back to the conversation you’d had with Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi last night. Right now, it seems years away, in some unreachable, idyllic past before you knew how breeding centers worked and how security hybrids were made. You feel foolish. Who were you to try to get them to let go of their pain and their hurt? If what they’d been through was even a little like what was going on here, they wouldn’t be able to for a long time. You’re angry. You’re disgusted. You are unquantifiably fucking sad. 

You pass Eunjung on your way out. In your time in the director’s office, she’s pulled her ash brown hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Peeking out of the collar of her sweatshirt you can see a faded scar in the shape of a ring, little puncture marks pale and glossy. It looked similar to the one on the director’s cheek, but this one was a complete circle and not ragged at all, like she’d stayed completely still while it was given. Teeth marks. 

You swallow. You want to do something, to give her some words of encouragement, but you have no idea what to say. You still don’t as you slow to a stop beside her desk, but you open your mouth to speak anyway. “I’m sorry,” You tell her, with all the sincerity in your heart. 

She doesn’t answer, but one cropped ear flicks toward you and her fingers slow in their incessant race across her keyboard. 

You turn to go. Mr. Seo was holding the door open for you and you can hear the director barking orders at a group of trainees to run an obstacle course faster. Just as you set foot over the threshold, she speaks. Her voice is so quiet, you have to strain to hear her over the steady clack-click-clack of her nails on the keys. 

“He likes green things,” she says, not looking up from her work. “And old books.” 

You look over your shoulder at her. Her face is a mask of neutrality, her eyes clear and her mouth set in a relaxed line. She looks fine, but there’s an ocean of meaning behind her words. You see her, just for a moment, as she’d been all those years ago, barefoot in the snow and begging for shelter, her stomach full with one of the moon’s own children. You commit the sight of her to memory. Then you turn and you go.

The director is waiting outside, shielding his eyes from the sun and regaling Mr. Seo with some long-winded explanation on the best way to treat hip dysplasia in Doberman hybrids. “Where to?” you ask, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. 

The man gives you a disgruntled look but despite the anxiety you feel spiking in your belly, you meet it evenly. Once upon a time, anyone in a position of authority looking at you the way he was would’ve sent you into a tailspin of self-doubt and nerves, leaving you shivering as your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, warning you of non-existent danger. If you were honest, it still did- but you didn’t have the luxury of running away and hiding anymore, not when there were people who needed you. 

“Hope’s bags are in the barracks. He just needs to grab them, and he can be on his merry way,” The direction grunts. “Monster’s still locked up, so I’ll-”

“I’ll go.” You can feel Mr. Seo stiffen beside you. 

“Ms. Y/N-”

“If he’s really that aggressive,” you start, your eyes not leaving the director’s for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to meet him now instead of when we’re packed into a car on a two hour car ride?” Director Lim narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t falter. You hold your hand out for the key. Your boldness surprises you. He drops the key ring into your open palm and you wrap your fingers around it, stuffing it in your pocket before he can snatch them back. You turn on your heels and march off in the direction he tilts his head in, nothing but a hiss of your name from Mr. Seo’s lips to accompany you. 

You walk quickly, eyes straight and willing your legs to go faster with every stride. It’s a long way across the compound but the less time you spend walking, the less time you have to stew in anxiety. None of the hybrids training in little packs spread across the yard pay you any mind- except for Hope. 

Your path takes you directly behind the group of kids he’s working with. You give them a wide berth, not wanting to disturb them, but you get a little distracted. Your steps slow for just a moment as you drink him in. He’s tall- the same height as Taehyung, if you’re judging it right, but there’s an ease about him the tiger hybrid hasn’t yet mastered. Everything about Taehyung is pulled in. He’s always coiled tight, like he’s preparing to spring forward at any moment, all his energy drawn into the center of his being. Even last night, when you’d been cuddled up with him on the couch, he’d pulled you tight against his side, shifting and rearranging himself til you both fit on one cushion. He’d held you tight through both films, his tail curled around the both of you and his spine tight, like if he let himself relax for a moment, you’d both turn to dust on the wind. 

Hope has no such fear. Everything about him is spread wide open, from the heart-shaped smile on his lips to his arms as he demonstrates a series of punches to his little pack of students. They all watch him with rapt attention, ears perked up and bandaged tails wagging. One of them asks him a question and he laughs, ruffles their hair. He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, shoulders shaking like he can’t contain the force of it alone. It makes your heart flip. 

His ears twitch, picking up the change in the cadence of your footsteps. He looks up and your eyes meet for the first time. He looks surprised to see you, for a moment, face blank- but then it melts into a soft smile, brimming with affection you’ve done nothing to earn. You snatch your gaze away and fix it to the dirt in front of you, embarrassed at being caught. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him cock his head to the side in confusion, but he doesn’t go after you. All the better, you’re all but running away from him now. 

You shuffle across the compound in a blur of scuffed sneakers and frayed nerves. You barely give yourself time to look up at the small cinder block building before you, shoving the key in the padlock before you can lose what unearned confidence you have left. You twist it, yank the rusted thing open, take a deep breath and enter.

You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it’s certainly not what you find. The way Director Lim had spoken about him and this place, you’d been expecting cobwebs on the ceiling, blood spatters on the wall and rusty nails on the floor. What’s before you is almost entirely the opposite.

The room is a veritable Eden. 

There are vines climbing every available wall, wrapping around structural posts and digging their way between concrete blocks. Every surface is crammed full of flowering plants in makeshift pots: lilies in old water jugs, violets in a worn out boot, black-eyed susans dripping orange petals from an upturned helmet. The floor is in a similar state, ferns and foxgloves turning what little space around his bed there is into a meadow. It’s beautiful. 

“He likes green things,” you marvel, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind you. It seemed every living thing that’d been uprooted to expand the compound had found a second life here, sheltered from the Director’s violence. Maybe the hybrid who lived here had too. 

A plant different from all the others catches your eye. It’s set up on the cardboard box serving as his bedside table and it’s the only one in a real pot from what you can tell. It looks just like a miniature tree, complete with knobs on it’s trunk and tiny leaves. You let out a little sound of wonder and crouch in front of it, your fingers reaching out on their own to trail across the delicate branches-

A massive hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you cold. “Don’t touch that.” 

You hadn’t heard him approach, but now you knew he was there. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy and warm. He’s looming over you. You swallow and make your arm go limp in his grip. No need to give him a reason. “I won’t,” You tell him. “Will you please let go of my wrist?”

He drops your arm without protest and relief floods your body. You weren’t sure if there was a hybrid version of lockjaw and you certainly weren’t itching to find out. You sit back on your heels and struggle to your feet, still hyper aware of the person behind you, his eyes boring holes into the back of your head. By the time you turn around, he’s back where he came from, standing in the entrance for a bathroom you hadn’t seen, half hidden behind a curtain of vines. 

He looks different than the others. You’d been expecting that, but the full-length fluffy tail held stiffly behind his back and the long-furred ears pointed away from you are still a surprise. His fur, instead of being in rigid black and tan points, is marked by whorls of black, brown and gray. Instead of the lean musculature all the other hybrids had -all trim waists and narrow ankles- he’s sturdier, his shoulders broad and the veins in his forearms popping as he clenches his fists. He’s looking at you with that mismatched glare, his chin tilted toward his chest and his eyes shining aquamarine and obsidian. 

“If you’re new,” he starts, voice raspy. “They should’ve told you: you’re supposed to knock before you come in.”

“No, I’m not-”

“You can leave the food over there.” He nods toward a little plastic folding table jammed into one corner. It’s the one surface in his room that’s devoid of plants and there’s nothing on it besides a metal cafeteria tray, licked clean. “I won’t move when your back is turned.”

“I’m not here to deliver your food.”

He frowns, brows drawing together as his shoulders tense. “Then why are you…?”

You ball your hands up in your sweater sleeves and turn to face him full on. “I’m here to take you home with me.” You tell him. “They didn’t tell you?”

He laughs, but it’s a cold sound, devoid of joy. “Nobody tells me anything.”

Based on the short conversation you’d had with Director Lim, his sudden cancellation of contracts and the way he seemed ready to bulldoze over anything and everyone that didn’t fit his agenda, he didn’t seem the sharing type. Still it was hard to believe he hadn’t told him he’d be leaving the compound that’s been his home for over twenty years. 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you add, softly. “If you don’t want to. I know I’m a stranger. But you can leave-”

“I can’t go anywhere.” He taps the collar around his neck. At first, you’d thought it was the same as the ones every other hybrid had been wearing. You can see now that it isn’t. Theirs had all been leather with thin silver buckles holding them in place. His was leather too, but the band was broader and double-layered. There’s a little box on the side with hinges and a small drawing of a lighting bolt. A shock collar. 

Your stomach turns. 

You take a slow step toward him, but the second you do, his ears go flat against his head and he pulls his lips back, revealing sharp teeth. You freeze, hands held up and the keys dangling from your thumb. “I have the keys,” you say, extending them toward him. 

His eyes flick from your face, to the keys in your hand and back again, like he doesn’t believe what’s happening, like he can’t believe you’d actually want him free. The silence drags out into a little eternity before he speaks again. “If I try to unlock it, it’ll shock me.”

You blink up at him and risk another slow step forward, hoping you’ve caught his meaning correctly. This time, he doesn’t growl but his ears stay pinned back as he watches you through narrowed eyes. You close the distance between the two of you. 

When you were six, your mom scraped together enough money to take you to Busan for your birthday. You’d spent the day down at the beach, building sand castles with sea shell windows and wading through tide pools. After the sun had set, someone had set off fireworks and you’d watched them cuddled up in your mom’s arms, eyes wide and filled with a riot of colors you had no name for. It’s strange, you know. The ocean is miles away, but that’s what he smells like: the sea and the sand, and the last curls of smoke from homemade bottle rockets. He smells like that day. 

You lift your hands to the clasp on his neck and slide the key home. You twist it and the collar falls to the ground, a monster that can’t hurt him anymore. His skin is warm under your fingers, but puckered with scar tissue. There’s a ring of it around his neck, branching with whatever current had run through him in different directions. There’s no way this was legal, no way anyone with half a heart could treat another person like this. Your fingers trail one of the splits over his adam’s apple and he swallows beneath your touch, snatching your wrist again. 

“Dont.” His voice is cold. You blink, shaking off whatever spell you’d been under and shuffle back quickly, eager to give him space. He cradles his throat with one long-fingered hand, massaging the skin. He rolls his neck and you look away. You shouldn’t stare; the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. “I’ll go with you,” he rasps, answering the question before you can ask it again.

You gape for a second. You really hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?” You can’t stop a note of relief from creeping into your voice.

“Anywhere’s better than here.” He answers back. So, you were a means to an end. It doesn’t bother you. You’ll be whatever you need to be to get him away from this place and that man who seemed to only want to drive him down. 

“Do you need time to pack, or-?”

He gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s nothing from this place I want to keep.” And that’s the end of it. You push open the door and stride back out into the cold mountain air, trying your best to exude the confidence you know you lack. The hybrid slinks behind you, head hunched between his shoulders and every step stiff. He hesitates at the threshold and looks up at you, uncertainty written in the rigid line of his spine. He’s nervous. He has every right to be. 

How long had he spent in that little cinderblock room, shut away from every living thing? How long had he spent being told that he was a monster? You didn’t believe it, not for one second. No one who was as violent as the director had painted him out to be could’ve raised that garden. 

He leans out of the door frame, sniffs the air and lurches forward, out of the shadow of his room, His shoulders bunch up even higher around his head and he goes stiff like he’s waiting for a shock or a shot or a shout- but none comes. The sun is still shining and he’s barefoot in the sand, standing for the first time in years under the open sky. He exhales in a short puff and it looks like he’s going to walk beside you- but he turns on his heels on goes back inside. 

You make a little noise of distress in the back of your throat. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to come with you anymore? You go to call his name out of concern- but realize you don’t know it. All you have is the call sign he’d been given and you sure as fuck aren’t calling him ‘Monster’. You don’t have to flounder for long. He comes back out two seconds later, cradling the bonsai that’d caught your attention to his chest. 

“I’ll take this,” he mutters, shuffling into place behind you. You can’t smother the smile that starts tugging at your lips. Yeah, no one hateful would hold a little tree with as much tenderness as an infant. 

You give him a little nod. “There’s a terrace where I live,” you tell him, starting your trek across the yard once again. “It’s got a garden and a little greenhouse on it. It’s not very big, and it’s not as pretty as your’s, but you could grow new things there, if you wanted.”

His ears twitch in response, but he keeps his glower firmly focused on the plant in his arms as he shuffles along beside you. It’s then you notice he’s barefoot. “Do you wanna go back and get your shoes?” You ask, trying to make the question sound as innocuous as possible.

“Don’t have any,” he grumbles back. “Don’t need them; I never go outside.” 

Alright, that was understandable. Your first stop when you got back into the city would be a shoe store to get him a pair to wear- or maybe not with the way he kept flinching every time a whistle blew and his ears were swivelling like satellites at each new sound that reached them. You chew the inside of your lip. You don’t want to ask, but you know you should. Better to rip the bandaid off now, than get surprised later. “How long were you shut in for?”

“Fourteen.” He bites out. 

“...weeks?” You venture. There's a hopeful uptick at the end of your words. Even that would’ve been horrible, even that would be worthy of the litany of profanity you’re mentally lobbing at Director Lim- but it’s still better than the truth. 

The hybrid cuts a flat look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Years.” 

A wall of your scent hits him like a freight train, vacillating between the thick, cloying odor of sadness and the burn of anger. His nose wrinkles at it, brows drawing together in confusion. 

However little you might’ve known about hybrids, however limited your view of them was, you knew they weren’t supposed to be locked up. Domesticated hybrids like hamsters and cats might’ve been fine inside a house all day, assuming they still had regular interaction with people- but dogs weren’t. And he was half wolf. Wild, he’d have had dozens of square miles to roam over, and he’d been limited to a four-by-four yard room for fourteen years. Your goshiwon was a similar size, but it hadn’t been your whole world. All he’d had was one tiny window and what narrow view he’d managed to glimpse in the doorway when his meals were delivered. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but you’re cut off by a scream of delight and a snarl keying up in the hybrid next to you’s chest. Your jaw snaps shut with a click. 

A few yards ahead, there’s a group of kids wrestling in a massive pile. They’re all giggling and rolling over each other, tails wagging a mile a minute as they play bite and make grabs for the person at the center of their puppy pile. A head of black hair and a pair of cropped ears pop up and you see that it’s Hope, smiling bright as the sun as his students try to pin him. 

“You can’t leave!” One particularly determined kid yips, adamantly pushing his shoulder back to the sand. “Who’s gonna teach us?”

Hope just laughs.”Lisa is gonna teach you with the older kids-“

A chorus of disappointed barks and howls breaks out. “Ms. Lisa’s classes are too hard!” A little girl complains.

“Yeah!” Someone else chimes in. “And she’s strict!” 

The hybrid ruffles both kid’s hair affectionately, careful of their bandaged ears. “Just because she won’t let you get away with skipping night practice doesn’t mean she’s strict,” he laughs. He’s only met with more grumbles and complaints. 

It warms your heart to see. Even if these kids were at the mercy of their director -for now, at least- it was good that they had him to rely on. Your eyes meet and the sheer force of light in his face makes your own heat up. You look away, but he’s spotted you. He disentangles himself from the mess of kids and draws himself up to his full height. He’s in the same uniform he was in before, albeit with a black tactical bag now strapped to his back. He takes a step toward you and the wolfdog hybrid's ears go flat against his skull. He’s not deterred. “Joonie?”  It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to the hybrid next to you. “Kim Namjoon, is that you?” Hope takes one step forward and the hybrid - Namjoon - takes a step back to counter him. Hope looks like he’s going to advance again, but a small pair of hands wrapped around one of his own stops him. 

A little girl is holding on to him. She can’t be more than six years old. Her tail is still long and her ears are still floppy and she looks so small in her child-sized boots and cargo pants. “Mr. Hobi,” she whines, her head craned back to look up at him. “Please don’t go.”

He falters. His eyes flick from the pair of you back down to her, then he crouches, holds both of her hands in his. “I have to, Sowon-ah,” he says softly. 

She sniffles pitifully and juts out her lower lip.”But why?” 

It’s a fair question. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to come with you if he  doesn’t want to, but he beats you to the punch. “Because it’s my job, sweetheart,” he tells her, smiling softly.

“Y-your job is to teach us,” she hiccups back, face growing blotchy as tears well up in her eyes. Hope swipes one of them away with his thumbs. 

“I teach you so you can grow up well and protect your person, right?” She nods, little hands balling the fabric of her cargo pants up in her fists. “Right. Well this,” he continues, turning and looking at you with a soft smile. “Is my person. And I’ve gotta go make sure she stays safe.” 

You feel your heart jump into your throat. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing to warrant that much unearned loyalty. Sowon rubs at her eyes with the back of her hands and Hope pulls her into a tight hug. 

“Ah, don’t cry, Sowon! You’ve gotta make sure you get stronger so someone takes you home, okay? You don’t wanna get old and still be here like me, right?” He squeezes her and goes to stand, but gets mobbed by his students again, all wanting their own hugs and making him swear to write them letters. It takes another five minutes of tearful goodbyes and Director Lim approaching for them to turn him loose.

“Get back to your training, all of you!” He barks, stomping out of the office and slamming the door, Mr. Seo on his heels. The kids scatter to the four winds almost instantly, not wanting to be underfoot for whatever scolding the director was about to deal out. Hope’s face remains the same but you catch his ears droop just a little as his students leave him. The wolfdog hybrid- Namjoon, you remind yourself- on the other hand has his ears flat against his skull. A growl bubbles up in his chest and rips past his lips. It’s a dark, full bodied thing that has you taking a step back and Hope shrinking with a whine. 

“Joonie-” he pleads. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” All the fur on Namjoon’s body is standing on end, from the points of his ears to the tip of his tail. Even his hair has fluffed out. His mismatched eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals his incisors and all that fury, all that rage, is leveled on Director Lim. 

To his credit, the grizzled man doesn’t shrink back an inch before the enraged hybrid. His lips twist and he yanks a little remote out of his pocket, mashing a red button in the center. Namjoon flinches, his hands fly to his neck- but nothing happens. The shock collar is gone and the director has no power over him anymore. 

The man in question’s eyes widen, flicking between the remote to the column of Namjoon’s throat, now devoid of his one element of control. “Where’s his collar?” He demands. “How the hell did you get your collar off?” He advances on the tall hybrid, his hand in the air and though he doesn’t stop snarling, Namjoon ducks his head, anticipating the blow. 

You don’t know what moves you. Maybe it’s Hope pleading for it all to ‘stop, just stop!’. Maybit’s how Namjoon knows exactly how to move when he’s about to get hit. Maybe it’s your own lack of self-preservation. Whatever it is, you blink and you’re in front of Namjoon, your hand up and clutching the director’s forearm, stopping him from striking the hybrid behind you. You’re not strong enough to stop him, not fully. Your elbow buckles in and you stumble back, your back pressing into the wolfdog hybrid’s chest.

The director yells something at you, red flooding his face. You can’t hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart. You force a dry swallow down your throat, put on your bravest face and glare up at him. “Don’t hurt him anymore.”

He reaches out with his free hand to tug you out of the way, but before he can touch you, Hope is there. He presses close to your side and holds the director’s wrist firm, his eyes on the sand and his shoulders hunched up by his ears.

Director Lim looks angry enough to spit. “Hell of a time for you to grow a backbone,” he snarls at Hope, making the doberman hybrid flinch. “I want all four of you off my property now.” He snatched his arms free and you don’t miss the nasty glare he casts at Namjoon. “And if this mutt ever shows his face around here again, I’ll-”

“Director Lim,” Mr. Seo cuts in, his voice cool. “You’ve made yourself clear; we’ll leave. You needn’t make threats.” There’s an underlying warning in the attorney’s voice. The director locks his jaw.

“Get out.” He breathes. Hope ducks around him, his head low and his docked tail pressed close to his back. If he could tuck it, you think he would. You follow after him, eyes fixed straight ahead and your back ramrod straight. He might’ve scared the shit out of you, but you weren’t going to let him see that. Mr. Seo fixes you with a hard look and the second you’re within arms reach, he presses a hand to your back and ushers you toward the gate. The only one who remains is Namjoon.

He looks like his anger has rooted him to the spot. His ears are still flat against his head, his lip still curled. 

“Do it, boy,” the director taunts. “Give me a reason-”

“Namjoon.” At the sound of his name, his ears prick up and you turn around. It’d come not from Hope- which you’d expected, seeing as he seemed to be the only one who actually knew his fellow hybrid’s name- but from the open door of the office building where Eunjung stood. She looks at him, her expression unreadable and he stares back. All the tension in his body has shifted and for a moment, you think he’s going to spring toward her and fall into her arms- but she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head and his face hardens. His arms tighten around his bonsai. You think you know, now, why it was the only plant in his room that had a pot. 

“Go,” she says and all the tension leaves him. His shoulders curve in and he drags himself past the director, out from the fence and toward Mr. Seo’s car. There’s something final about the way the gate rolls shut after him. If you hadn’t known better, you’d’ve sworn you heard him whine as it locked. 

The car ride down the mountain is...interesting to say the least. Hope insists that the seating arrangements inside the Buick be done to his specifications,( “You’ve gotta sit in the middle,” he tells you, pointing to the narrow center seat. “And Joonie and I will sit on either side of you to protect you in case we crash!” His tail is wagging a mile a minute behind him. You’re surprised it can move that much, given how short it is. Mr. Seo looks affronted at the unintentional jab at his driving and Namjoon just looks irritated. “I told you to stop calling me that.”) and he keeps throwing an arm across your middle everytime the car hits a bump. You’re going down the side of a mountain. There are a lot of bumps. He also keeps pressing his nose against the glass of his window, ears pricked up and trying to take in every tree that passes by. Namjoon, on the other hand, slouches back in his seat, his body curved around his plant and ever so slightly away from you. He still watches the world pass by, but he doesn’t acknowledge any of you or speak- which would be fine if anyone else would. Hope seems to be doing his best to appear stoic and alert every time you look at him and Mr. Seo seems comfortable with the quiet. So, you’re left to ride the two hours back to Seoul in silence. 

You almost cry with relief when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. You fish the device out of your pocket, thumb it to life and scan your notifications.

Unknown Sender [7:13 PM] where are you

You frown. Very few people had your number or any reason to text you. You’re about to chalk it up to a wrong number when the second text rolls in.

Unknown Sender [7:14 PM] it’s yoongi

Now that’s a surprise. When you’d hurriedly told the boys to text you, you’d been expecting Jimin to urge you to hurry or for Taehyung to ask for updates, not for their hyung to check your progress. A little smile pricks at your lips as you rush to reply

You [7:14 PM] We’re on the way back now!

Unknown Sender has been changed to Yoongi 

Yoongi [7:14 PM] can i call

You bite the inside of your lip, suddenly nervous. You know there’s no reason to be. After all, you tell yourself, what’s scary about a pair of roommates talking on the phone? You give him the go ahead and not three seconds after the delivered notification pops up, you get a call. You answer it on speaker.

“...Hello?”

“Did you just start driving?” Yoongi’s voice is thick with sleep, like he’s just woken up. It’s different than normal, his usual smooth drawl gone gravelly. 

“Y-yeah,” you reply, trying to ignore the way Hope is watching you out of the corner of his eyes and Namjoon’s ears have swiveled back toward you. “It’s gonna be awhile, still. Are Taehyung and Jimin-”

“They’re fine; They ate dinner earlier and they’ll be asleep til you get back.” He yawns and you picture him slouched on the couch, his hair mashed up on one side and his face puffy.  “Why do you sound nervous?”

“I’m not,” you counter. It’s a blatant lie and he knows it. He hums in doubt, but doesn’t press you.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Do you want me to text you when we’re close?” It’s an innocuous question. There’s no reason you can see for him to pause as long as he does. For a second you think you’ve lost him- after all, mountains aren’t known for having great reception- but then you hear his breath fan over the receiver. 

“...Yeah.” 

You give a little nod you know he can’t see. “Okay.” He makes a little noise of assent and then his line clicks off. You hang up. Just as you do, another text comes through. 

Yoongi [7:16 PM] don’t let them scent you

“Who was that?” Hope asks in a small voice, pulling you away from your phone screen and Yoongi’s insistence that you remain scent-free. His tone is open, but you can tell by the way his knee is bouncing that he really, really wants to know. “Is that your husband?”

The bark of laughter that rips past your lips is out before you can think to stop it. Namjoon flinches and you wince at him in apology, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. Hope is frowning at you in confusion, his head cocked slightly to the side. You force yourself to calm and answer him. “No, Yoongi is not my husband.” You weren’t sure if you even really qualified as friends at this point. “He’s another hybrid that lives with me.”

Hope perks up in his seat. “You have another hybrid? Director Lim always told us that once we left the center, we’d be alone.” Your expression sours at the mention of the ill-tempered man and you shake your head. 

“No, there’s a lot of hybrids in Seoul,” you tell him, eager to dispel some of his misconceptions. “The three that live with me are named Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung. Yoongi’s around your age, I think. Jimin and Taehyung are younger.” The doberman hybrid sits at rapt attention, soaking up every bit of information you give him and waiting eagerly for more. What else could you tell him about them? You remember the boys’ reaction that morning when you told them you’d be bringing dog hybrids home. “...They’re all felines,” you say, slowly, trying to gauge their reactions. 

“So that’s why you smell like that.” It’s the first words Namjoon’s spoken since you all piled into the car. You turn to him, but he’s not looking at you.

“What do you-?”

“You smell like other hybrids,” Hope says, covering for him. “But I’ve never smelled any that weren’t other dogs before.” He leans closer, his seatbelt stretching. You tense and lean away from him, but he’s not deterred. The tip of his nose brushes your neck and you have to fight off a shiver as he breathes you in. “They smell the same…” he starts, his breath fanning over your throat. “...but different? And one of them isn’t as strong as the others-” He presses closer, trying to catch the scent that’s eluding him. You make a noise of mild distress and lean further back, pressing into the solid wall that is Namjoon. 

“Hoseok, let it go .” Hoseok. That was his real name then. To your surprise, the dog hybrid pulls back as instructed, settling back into his seat without so much as a whine.

“I’ve never met a cat before,” he muses, turning his attention back to the window. “I hope they’re nice.”

You think about the chorus of hisses you’d been met with when you told the boys they’d have to share their space. You hope so too.

It’s 9:30 by the time Mr. Seo drops you off back in front of your building. He wishes you a good night and promises to call later in the week to discuss Black Mountain Canines. You’re not sure if there’s anyone to report him to or anything you can do, but you want to try. What you’d seen at the compound was wrong any way you looked at it. It made you sick to leave anyone there knowing how the director treated Namjoon and Hoseok. No one was useless. No one deserved to be locked away for years at a time for the sheer crime of existing. You’d make them see that. 

The moment you step out of the car, Hoseok is all wide smiles and exclamations. “Woah, you live here?” he asks, tilting his head back to take in all fifty-one floors of Haneul Tower in their sparkling, glass-paned glory.

“Yeah,” you tell him, handing him his bag. In his excitement to get out of the car, he’d abandoned it and Mr. Seo had nearly driven away with it. “But I just moved in a couple days ago, so it’s still pretty empty.”

Hoseok nods, scanning the windows like he’ll be able to pick out which one’s your’s. Behind you, Namjoon is lingering on the sidewalk.

He’s still got his bonsai clutched close to his chest and he’s hunched down around it like he’s trying to stop unseen hands from picking at it. His shoulders are bunched up by his ears, and he flinches with every car horn, every siren that comes to you on the wind. He’d grown up in the mountains and spent the better part of his life indoors. It only made sense that he’d be sensitive to the sounds of the city. 

“Is there a security system?” Hoseok asks, still enamored with the building. “How many entrances does your apartment have?”

“Just one second,” you tell him, forehead wrinkling as you take in Namjoon. You slide slowly toward the wolfdog, not wanting to startle him. “Namjoon?” He flinches when you call his name, head whipping toward you. “Do you wanna go inside? I know it’s new, but it’ll be quieter, I think.”

His mismatched eyes flick from you, to Hoseok, to the building and back to you before settling firmly on the concrete at his feet. He seems different than he had in the mountains. He’s smaller, quieter, less sure of himself. Was it because this is all new territory for him? Or had the snarling hybrid in the mountains just been a roll he was forced to play, the mythic monster to the director’s tyrant king. 

“You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to,” you tell him, in a voice you hope is reassuring. “We can wait, if you need to.”

“I’ll wait with you, Joonie,” Hope chimes in, giving the larger hybrid the same soft smile he’d given his students earlier. 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It...it’s fine,” he mutters, “We can go in, I just…” He takes a few hesitant steps forward and huddles closer to you. There’s still an inch between you, but it’s closer than you’d thought he’d come. 

You peer up at him. “Okay?” You ask. He gives a single nod and your little group moves through the double doors and into the lobby. 

It’s quieter at this time of night. You don’t recognize the woman standing behind the reception desk. There’s no one really around except one man, pacing the width of the lobby looking thoroughly put out. You can’t really see his face, but there’s something familiar about the slant of his body. He whirls around as the glass doors click shut and you catch sight of a fringe of gray hair, pointed ears, narrowed yellow eyes and an all too familiar pout. 

Yoongi. 

“Fuck.” You’d completely forgotten to text him. Judging by the look on his face as he stalks toward you, he wasn’t happy about it. To his credit, Hoseok does his best to guard you, sliding in front of you and pushing you behind him. You can’t see Yoongi’s ears beneath the hat he’s wearing but if his curled lip and narrowed eyes are any indicator, they’re pinned straight back. 

“Move.” He snarls at the doberman hybrid. Hoseok is taller than he is, but the closer Yoongi gets to him, the smaller he seems to shrink. There’s fire in the bobcat hybrid’s eyes. Hope whimpers and slinks out of his way, ears low. 

You wince. “Heeeeey, Yoongi. I’m sorry I forg-“ before you can even finish the sentence, he tugs you toward him by the shoulders. His face roves your neck, sniffing in earnest as he tries to pick up the scent of the other hybrids on you. All is well until he reaches the right side of your throat and grazes over the exact spot Hoseok had nosed earlier. He pulls away slowly, his shoulders tight. His head turns slowly to the doberman hybrid, mechanical. 

“You.” He hisses at the other hybrid with so much virulence it makes your blood run cold. He takes one step toward him, teeth bared in a snarl, but Namjoon slides in front of him bumping him back. A growl bubbles in the bobcat hybrid’s chest and the wolfdog matches it, both their ears pinned flat against their skulls. 

“Hey-” If either of them hear you, they don’t react. They’re too focused on having a staring contest. “Hey!” You push between them, a hand on either of their chests. Namjoon snarls as you touch him and Yoongi looks ready to skin him alive for that alone. He pushes against your hand, trying to get closer to the taller hybrid. You ball your hand up in the fabric of his shirt. “Stop it!” The receptionist already has the lobby phone in her hand. She’s whispering earnestly into it and you’re sure security will be on the way any second. You exhale and squeeze your eyes shut. “Everybody, elevator.” 

Yoongi hurls an accusatory finger in Hoseok’s direction. “These fucking-”

“Yoongi, please,” you plead. That gets him to stop. His arm falls to his side and he glowers down at you for a few seconds before stalking over to the elevators and slamming the up button. “I’m sorry,” you murmur to Hoseok and Namjoon. The smaller of the two hybrids is still hunched in on himself and the taller has Yoongi fixed in his mismatched gaze, his lips curled in anger. 

This was not the way you wanted this to go. You’d wanted them to have time to settle before you discussed next steps and gave them the same talk you’d given the felines, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. You don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi. You’d thought the bobcat hybrid was calm, cool and collected, completely unflappable in the face of anything. Apparently not. He seemed upset that some of Hoseok’s scent had gotten on you, but there’d been no way to help that. You’d been packed in a car with him and Namjoon for two hours. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

“It’s not okay,” you tell them, wanting them to know you didn’t condone the way Yoongi had acted. “I don’t...I don’t know why he’s acting like this; he doesn’t normally. Do you wanna go up separately?”

It’s Hoseok who answers. “No, we’ll go up together,” he assures you with a small nod. “If...maybe if we get used to each other, it’ll be okay?” 

You’re not optimistic, but you give him a pained smile you hope is reassuring. “Yeah, maybe?” You cast a look back over your shoulders. Yoongi is waiting by the elevators, his arms crossed over his chest and his tail flicking in irritation. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Well, there was no avoiding it. “Come on,” you tell them. “Just...keep to the other side, for now. I’ll stand between you and him.” 

The four of you pile into the elevator, all tucked into your own corners. It’s strange, you think. It’s never seemed small until now. Hoseok keeps casting worried looks over at you, Namjoon keeps subtly shifting closer and Yoongi is still glowering at the both of them, angry for a reason you can’t quantify. 

“If it helps,” Hoseok starts softly, his voice an intrusion in the awkward silence. “I really didn’t mean to, honestly-”

“Don’t apologize.” Namjoon counters. “If it bothers him that much, he can speak up” 

You don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s too late that you realize the canines aren’t addressing you. Suddenly, Yoongi’s fingers are hooked through one of your belt loops. He yanks you backwards and you stumble, falling against the length of his body. “My bad,” You shoot out, before the hybrid can hiss at you. “I just lost my bala-” The words die on your tongue as Yoongi fixes his mouth to the soft skin of your throat. The elevator goes quiet.

The canine hybrids avert their eyes almost instantaneously, instinct telling them they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t be. Yoongi keeps them fixed firmly in his sights, a dark growl bubbling in his throat. 

Your fingers flex uselessly at your sides, hands clenching unclenching as the hybrid works over the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue. ‘Don’t make a noise,’ you plead with yourself. ‘This isn’t what it feels like. Don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise-’ Yoongi’s incisors graze over a vein and a little whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it. The grip he has on your hips becomes bruising. You feel your legs turning to jelly beneath you. Any more of what he was doing, and they’d have to mop you up off the elevator floor. You force your throat to swallow. “Y-Yoongi, I think that’s enough-” You don’t know if he hears you over the noise he’s making, so you lace your fingers through his and untangle them from your hips. He releases you with a wet pop and you slap a hand over the skin he’d marked. Heat floods your face and a smirk spreads across Yoongi’s, his teeth flashing at the canines. He leans in again to rub his nose against the mark he’d made- but a hand on his chest stops him. 

“Can you stop?” You ask in a small voice. Honestly, you’re embarrassed. Regardless of what the articles said about mark-making being platonic, it doesn’t feel friendly. It feels possessive and mean and you don’t like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you like you asked, but what is with you today?” Yoongi’s expression changes from smug satisfaction to confusion and then surprise, like he hadn’t expected you to protest. “I know what I said about you being ready but…” You rub a hand over the mark, wiping away saliva and your sweat. The bobcat hybrid visibly deflates. The elevator chimes for the fiftieth floor and the doors roll open slowly. You rush out before any of them can and start punching the code in your door with shaky fingers. You don’t know what to say. You’re tired and stressed and you don’t know what’s going on. Was this about the apartment? You knew the felines wouldn’t be happy about sharing their space, but why had Yoongi gone this far?

“Y/N…” He trails after you, his ears drooping. You shake your head, You can’t talk to him right now. 

“In the morning,” you tell him as the door swings open. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You can’t deal with everything that’s happened today, and Yoongi flipping out and getting the canines settled. You weren’t that good at juggling. 

By the grace of all that’s merciful, Taehyung and Jimin are still asleep when you walk in. You’d need to have an extended meet and greet tomorrow, you decide. Maybe do some icebreakers or team building exercises. If they reacted anything like their hyung did, you were in for one hell of an adjustment period. 

Hoseok and Namjoon trail you into the penthouse warily, sniffing the air. You want to give them time to explore and get their bearings, they deserve that, but with the way Yoongi still seems agitated when they venture anywhere but exactly in your steps, that’ll need to be saved until tomorrow morning too. You give them the most spartan tour you can muster up and show them each to a guest room, promising to order them furniture and get them the things they need tomorrow. 

By the time you collapse into your own bed, it’s damn near 11. You groan and drag a pillow over your face as you ask the universe for the thousandth time why it had decided to continuously kick your ass. Having three hybrids had been hard enough. Having five of all different species was likely to prove impossible and having seven was going to be a sisyphean task you’d had no training for. You groan and kick your feet in the air, allowing yourself the brief respite of a temper tantrum before crawling under your covers and flicking the lamp off. Maybe in your dreams there’d be no stress and no snarling hybrids with behavior you couldn’t explain.

[saturnsummer]

sweet love

They say drunk words are your sober thoughts. Joon Hwi clearly had too many thoughts.

prompted by an anon from this question here! thanks anon!!

notes: hello! back with another fic, this time when joonhwi gets too drunk and spills more than he expects. stay till the end though, i added a little bonus as usual. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! thank you all for your love and support as always! i’ll see you for more next time!

original prompt: I love your fic 🥰 this is so far from canon but a drunk joonhwi being clingy towards sol a is one of my dream scenarios 😚 or the squad catching solhwi being clingy with each other because they were hiding their relationship

words: 3414 words

Joon Hwi was beyond excited everyday when he woke up for school. No, he wasn't excited to get the top grade, neither was he excited to get his essays and reports done. Though he loves the law, he’s sane enough to not love it that much.

Of course, he’s just excited about meeting his girlfriend, Kang Sol.

He never knew how they got together. It was a natural thing, after all. After the whole fiasco with Assemblyman Ko, their relationship suddenly felt a lot closer. They were close to begin with, with their daily studying and lunches and dinners. But something was different after the middle of their second year.

It started out as dinners every night, with or without the study group. Then Sol would be in study group sessions wearing his sweater or hoodies. When Yeseul or Yebeom teased, Sol would always argue to say that it was cold in their copy room and Joon Hwi was just being nice. Joon Hwi would just pretend that ‘sharing sweaters were normal’.

Then one day, as Joon Hwi sent Sol back home to take care of Byeol, they sat side by side in silence. Sol was desperately in need of catching up on her sleep, so the forty minute bus ride served as a quick nap for her. She turned her head to lean on Joon Hwi’s shoulder, resting her head there for her nap. To make things more comfortable, he placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

When they were nearing their stop, Joon Hwi instinctively shook a sleepy Sol up and held her hand as he dragged her out so she wouldn’t miss the stop. Sol doesn’t let go, and neither does Joon Hwi. Only when they reach the start of the alley do they let go of their hands. (Sol insists it’s because she doesn’t want Byeol to know. Joon Hwi thinks it’s because she’s shy.)

When Joon Hwi is at her front door with Sol, they shyly look at each other, the feelings mutual and conveyed with just their eyes. Of course, they are soulmates. They don't need the words to deliver their entire hearts or feelings.

It was always made known from the start to Joon Hwi that Sol was special to him. He has never met someone so persistent, so passionate and so damm beautiful. He had a couple of flings, being the popular smart boy in school, but none of the girls made his heart beat the same way Sol did. None of them made his world stop.

It has been a year since. And things weren’t easy when you tried to hide it. Sol, a student on a scholarship, had better luck being chosen to attend this school than the number of times the couple almost got caught.

In school, they acted normally as classmates and friends. Their study group sensed something different, but they would just deny and pretend. They put on a pretty good act, if they were to say so themselves, having Bokgi convinced that they needed to find Sol a blind date. (Joon Hwi would have spat his water at him like how Professor Yang did at Prosecutor Jin, but he held it in. Five months of hiding couldn’t be wasted now.)

They wanted to tell their friends, they really did. But they wanted to do it after their bar exams. After the weight of the bar has been lifted off will they share their good news. But while hiding a relationship is hard, making time for one was harder. (Arguably, Joon Hwi finds this harder than any exam he took.)

They absolutely found every minute they could to be together. Every hidden staircase was a spot they tried to spend a few minutes to themselves, but even that was difficult. Joon Hwi would remember how Sol would lead him to a hidden staircase far from their hideout, so as to not get walked in by either the professors or their friends. Even in the midst of Joon Hwi pressing Sol against the wall, as they devoured each other’s lips after a whole day of being unable to kiss, they would be interrupted by the sudden doors of the staircase upstairs opening, causing them to fly apart and run out.

The gossip the school carried was insane, and the last thing they wanted was gossip to reach their friends.

They could spend longer moments in the study room in the middle of the nights where they would be alone, as they worked on their cases and work. Occasionally, they shared bunggeoppangs and hotteoks, where they had long kisses tasting of sweet red bean and honey. But too many times Sol found herself shifting from her seat next to Joon Hwi to climbing on top of his lap in a make-out session, as Joon Hwi reached up to remove the highlighter holding her hair. Just as they wanted more, a sudden noise would bring them to attention and frantically, Sol would fall back onto her chair, both of their faces flushed red.

It was just four more months till the graduation ceremony came.

Till the world knows Sol was Joon Hwi’s.

-----

The bar exam went smoothly, as everyone received their results of passing. As a celebration, the boys decided to drink and have a meal apart from their usual delivery. No, it was time for the real deal of barbecues, meat and stews. They decided to even give a call to Seungjae, who graciously accepted their offer despite being so busy with his new son in his life. The study group has met his kid a couple of times, and even babysat a few hours together.

The boys met at a relatively near barbecue place in the heart of Dongdaemun, a location that the boys could easily return back to the dorms and not too far away. They were at an all-you-could-eat place, suitable for their budget so that they didn’t burn a hole in their pockets. Seungjae offered to treat his dongsaengs. After all, passing the bar was no easy feat. But they declined. His presence with them was enough of a gift from him to them.

But what was a dinner without the star, soju?

Joon Hwi prided himself on holding his liquor well. He could easily have a bottle without feeling the buzz. He could have a second without difficulty as well. Surely, he won’t be drunk, right?

Oh, but how wrong he was.

The bottles of soju and beers kept coming, never ending, as BokGi and Yebeom pushed shot after shot to him and themselves. They were surely prepared to get hammered tomorrow and show up to their 10am lecture spinning. Seungjae, having driven, only watched and smiled as he looked at his dongsaengs drink, sipping on his cola.

“Hyung, you sure you don’t have anything on with Sol-A noona? You know, we catch you with her all the time.” Bokgi asks, his face slightly flushed and words a little slurred. Yebeom nods his head, nodding his head in agreement. Joon Hwi only lets himself smile, not saying anything as he shoots back an additional shot of soju.

“Wah, hyung! So you admit it?” Yebeom says, setting down his chopsticks. Jiho stops chewing on his ssam, and looks next to him at Joon Hwi, who just shrugs, a mysterious smile on his face. Seungjae only places more meat on Joon Hwi’s plate.

With a short glance, Yebeom, Jiho and Bokgi’s eyes met. It was long enough for them to get what they were trying to say, but yet short enough for Joon Hwi to not notice the silence.

They weren’t blind to Joon Hwi’s actions. They noticed how Joon Hwi would look at Sol when she’s practicing for a mock trial, and his gentle voice when he would point out things she missed. Jiho, for one, noticed how Joon Hwi would return to the dorm later or look at his phone, smiling like an idiot. When asked, Joon Hwi would either use the excuse that he went out to the city or he was looking at cat videos, which bore Jiho.

But tonight, they were not leaving this place until he spilled his secret.

“Excuse me! Can we get three more portions of samgyeopsal, one more moksal, one dwangjang jjigae, and three more bottles of soju please?” Bokgi politely shouted to the store helper, who readily nodded.

“One more rice, please!” Yebeom added.

And so, with every portion of food, they shot back shot after shot as they feasted on their fresh juicy grilled pork and stew. They were glad that Joon Hwi was slowly slurring his words, because they themselves were barely hanging on.

“Hyung, you can be honest, you know. We won’t say anything about your private life with noona.” Yebeom says, fighting off the buzz and taking a big gulp of water. Joon Hwi, now face flushed bright red, only let out another smile as he laid back on his chair.

“Ah, Sol...” He murmured out loud.

“You know, she’s really touchy when she’s drunk? She likes to cling on to people when she’s drunk. When she’s angry, she pushes people away instead.” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. No, this wasn’t Joon Hwi. This was drunk Joon Hwi. The other three immediately perked up hearing this.

“A-Ah, really? How do you know that?” Yebeom prompted, determined to draw out more information.

“Remember the time we were late to Dean Oh’s lecture? We drank that night with Yeseul and Bokgi. She couldn’t stop clinging onto my hoodie after both of them went back. And the other time when she pushed me away after her first year results were out.” Joon Hwi says, the stupid smile still on his face.

“How cute.” He quietly says, eyes closed.

There wasn't a need to know further that their hyung, Han Joon Hwi, had feelings for Kang Sol, the feisty noona.

“Hyung, then why not date her?” Bokgi says, the news keeping him at the end of his seat. Jiho merely sits, ears wide open and ready for any information.

“Date?” Joon Hwi says and lets out a light unmistakable giggle. Oh, he really was drunk now.

“We already are.”

The trio exchange knowing eyes, knowing how their objectives for the night have been accomplished. Seungjae, from the end of the table, merely shakes his head with a smile.

“Hyung, did you know?” Jiho asks. Seungjae nodded.

“They told me. After all, I am no longer a student.” This earned groans from the trio, calling it unfair.

“I miss Sol...” Joon Hwi murmurs, as his drunken state reaches for another shot of soju. Instinctively, Jiho reaches it first and shoves a glass of water in his hand instead. If anything, he was sleeping with this man in the same room. And he was not having his drunken state continue further. After all, they completed their mission for the night.

All that mattered was remembering it the next day.

-----

Sol was in the midst of folding her clothes before her phone rang, distracting her from her music that she had on with her ear pieces. Irritated, she picked up her phone, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Sol-A? It’s oppa.”

“Seungjae-oppa? Why are you calling so late? Is anything the matter?” She asks, alerted by the sudden call. It was almost midnight, and it was rare for Seungjae to call.

“Ah, no. Nothing is wrong. I’m just at the lobby of the school at the Lady Justice statue with a very drunk Joon Hwi and the rest of the boys. I can’t bring them up myself, especially since I can’t enter the dorms anymore.” Seungjae explains. In the back, Sol can hear a noisy Bokgi and Jiho telling him to shut up.

“Give me five minutes.” She says and hangs up. The urgency in Sol’s voice drew the attention of Sol B, who was ready to get to bed. Sol B only looks at Sol for a moment and Sol just gives a sympathetic smile.

“Could... Could you come with me?” Sol asks nervously. Sol B looks at Sol for a moment before she throws a hoodie on and throws another hoodie to Sol. The last thing they needed was them to be recognised. Seungjae was where he said he would be, with indeed, four grown men, sprawled on the couches. Bokgi, Yebeom and Jiho were at least conscious enough to greet both Sols, but Joon Hwi just had his eyes shut, murmuring incorrigible things.

“Sorry you had to deal with them, oppa. They really owe you a big apology.” Sol apologises for the sake of her boyfriend, and his friends. Seungjae only shakes his head.

“They should enjoy this before they step into the workforce and can’t experience it anymore.” He gives a smile. “Joon Hwi got a little carried away. He might have spilled your relationship.” Sol B was not standing far as she forced Bokgi and the rest upright, but she could clearly hear it.

“I’ll settle it. You should go home now, don’t keep Juyoung-unnie waiting. I’ll get them to their rooms.” She said before making her quick goodbye to Seungjae.

Together, both Sols pushed Bokgi and Yebeom up to their room, half guiding and half carrying the heavy boys to their door. When they were back downstairs, Sol B instinctively grabbed Jiho by his arm and pulled him up.

“Sol B, about what-” Sol was cut off by her roommate.

“I know. Don’t tell anyone yet. But, you know you suck at hiding and lying, don't you?” She says, her head turned back, before turning back to help Jiho back to his room. Sol does all she can to suppress her smile. Even though her roommate is harsh, she could feel the love. Turning around, she faces her drunk boyfriend.

“Joon. Joon Hwi.” Sol shakes gently. Joon Hwi’s lips curl up slightly, as his arms reach up to wrap them around the familiar body he missed. Sol was clingy when she was drunk, but it was the pot calling the kettle black for Joon Hwi. If possible, he was even clingier.

“You need to go up to your room.” She says as she fights away his loose grip and half supports his drunk body to his room.

“I missed you, Sol...” He murmurs, a face turning into a pout. “You know I kept telling them how good a girlfriend you are? How you always got me coffees and made extra ramyeons.”

“And you also told them we are dating?”

“Of course! I want the whole world to know I love you!” Joon Hwi says a little loudly, and she clamps his mouth shut. Oh, he was definitely more than drunk. Joon Hwi’s arms clung onto her waist as she reached his door.

“Go. You can face the mess you made in the morning.” She says. Joon Hwi clings onto her, giving her a sad pout.

“No more goodnight kisses?” He asked, a voice like a child. His eyes were big and round, his mouth downturned slightly like a pout.

Sol couldn’t deny him one, especially when he looked so adorable. Looking around, she made sure the coast was clear before she reached up to let her lips meet his soft ones. He tasted like lingering alcohol and she could taste it, but she couldn’t help but want more of his intoxicating lips on hers. But not today.

Pulling away, he let out a slight whine. But Sol gave him a quick peck.

“You’ll get more, when you get up.” And Sol pushes him into the room, leaving back to her own dorm, knowing that she’ll be faced with a big headache the next morning.

-----

When Joon Hwi is up the next morning, he’s greeted with a Jiho who rubs his eyes and holds his head in his hand. Joon Hwi isn’t sure if he’s spinning or the room is. Or if it is spinning in the first place. Jiho notices he’s up and grunts a good morning, before getting up to get ready.

The memories of last night come back to Joon Hwi in waves as the pieces start slowly fixing themselves together throughout the morning. By the time he’s at his first lecture, his memories have more or less come back.

He’s certain that Sol would be mad. He makes a mental note to send Seungjae an apology and thank you message. Then, he starts making plans to bribe the trio. He knows about Yebeom’s love for candy, so he starts with that. He just needs to think of what brand of sneakers to get for Bokgi. Heck, would bribes even work against them?

But throughout the morning, the boys do nothing to mention anything about last night. They chat about their hangover, how Seungjae is doing well with his new job and the amount of food they ate. No one mentions anything about Joon Hwi, or his words.

Joon Hwi counts himself safe. They must have forgotten, he thinks. He figures it was the best they did. It definitely would save him an earful from Sol and a large headache. During lunch, as they finished their simple meal at the cafeteria of soup, rice and bulgogi, Bokgi is about to clear his tray before he turns to Joon Hwi.

“Oh, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“We remember everything. From the start, to the end.” He says, a teasing grin on his face as he quickly scurries away, not wanting to die before he graduates. Joon Hwi rolls his eyes back and groans.

Well, shit.

-----

bonus:

“Sol B, did you know our roommates are dating?” Jiho asks, his voice slightly slurred as Sol B drags him up the stairs. She gives a nod. Sol B was no idiot to fall for her roommate’s excuses, when her face gave it all away. It was fascinating how the others haven’t noticed. 

“It would be an insult to our careers if we didn't notice the way they looked at their phones.” She sarcastically says. Jiho manages to scoff. Sol B is about to tap Jiho’s key card of their door, but his hand stops hers, as she feels his body right behind his. 

“Well, they haven’t found out about us yet.” Jiho says softly to her, his face nuzzled into her neck, lips brushing her neck as he slowly moves his lips up to her jaw. Sol brings a gentle hand to his cheek, before turning around to face Jiho.

“We’re better actors.” She whispers so soft. Jiho can't tell if it’s the alcohol or him, but all he knows is that Sol B looks so damm perfect with her doe-like eyes, soft pink lips and the way she teases him drives him insane. He wants her, and he wants her now. 

He crashes his lips on hers, wanting to so desperately taste her. It’s been a long day, and he’s never felt so in need. Sol B tastes the lingering alcohol on his lips, but she couldn’t care. She needs him the same way he wants her. Her hands reach up to grab his hair as Jiho’s hands slip under her hoodie, feeling the smooth skin of her waist against his fingers. They know that they are in the middle of the hallway, but, god, it felt so good.

“God, I missed this.” Jiho mumbled, almost growling, against her lips, earning a slight smirk from the younger girl that he could feel. He sucks on her lower lip, earning a soft gasp from the girl as she only kisses him harder. Biting lovingly on her swollen lips, he shifts his attention to her jaw, leaving butterfly kisses and earning a sigh of pleasure from her. 

But it was short lived, as she pulled away. They knew they had to stop, before their secret was revealed, too. Jiho wishes he could bring her into the dorm and continue this session with her. Sol B looks at him lovingly, biting her lip in an attempt to tease. 

“We’ll continue this tomorrow.” Sol B says, giving him another loving kiss as she leaves for her room and Jiho returns to his, buzzed from the alcohol and the adrenaline rush from his make out session. He inwardly groans, hating how his girlfriend teases him, but also smirks, knowing how to get back at her the next day.

Let’s hope he remembers this.

[wherethewordsare]

Sign Sealed and Delivered

Part 2 to This Fic Here

It had been easy for Jaskier really. There were so few people in the world that he had truly trusted, but giving Geralt his cloak had felt as natural as breathing. He knew what his clan would say if they knew, the traditions that he was breaking by giving his cloak so freely to not just a land walker, but a witcher, a monster hunter, would have been beyond scandal. He just hoped that some part of Geralt didn’t realize what Jaskier had truly done.

It wasn’t every day you asked a witcher to accept a betrothal pact.

He had never felt safer though once Geralt held his cloak, knowing that as long as he lived, the cloak would be kept safe. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the way Geralt had asked him to return to Kaer Morhen with him for the winter.

“I want to keep it there. I don’t feel right traveling with it. What if something were to happen? You’d be at risk as long as I was?” There was a worry to the crease of his brow that softened Jaskier to near puddy. “But I want you to know that it’s safe. It only makes sense that you come with me.”

“Of course I know it’ll be safe, dear heart, that’s why I gave it to you,” Jaskier laughed, hoping that the heat he felt in his face wasn’t showing too much.

“Please?” Geralt asked softly. His hand twitched on his thigh as they sat by the fire, the autumn settling in around them.

Jaskier looked over and nearly lost his breath. Golden eyes stared back at him with a warmth he hadn’t been expecting. “Yeah, alright. I’ll come with you.”

That was how Jaskier found himself following his witcher up into the mountains as the first frosts clung to their bedrolls each morning. After the first particularly cold night, Jaskier woke up to find Geralt slipping into his bedroll and wrapping an arm around him.

“‘S cold, and it’s only going to get colder,” was his only explanation as he settled in against Jaskier’s back. It made sense to stay together for warmth and it wouldn’t be the first time but something felt different about this time that Jaskier couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was the way Geralt’s hand splayed over his ribs like he wanted to keep him safe. Maybe it was the way his cold nose buried into Jaskier’s nape.

It became a routine quickly for them to share a bedroll, to walk a bit closer along the path up, for Geralt to give small reassuring touches to Jaskier’s arm or the small of his back when the ground grew uneven.

Once Jaskier’s feet found a patch of ice before his eyes could and he would have been flung down into the slush of mud had Geralt not grabbed him around the waist and pulled him close. They stood like that for a moment, Geralt looking particularly smug and ready to say something to match the mischief in his eyes.

“Not a word, witcher, or so help me, only one of us is making it to this keep of yours,” Jaskier sniffed, righting himself though Geralt still had yet to let go.

“Hmm.” Geralt kept his council but still smirked as they continued their way. He hadn’t mounted Roach once since they had set off, keeping beside Jaskier the entire trek. He pointed out species of trees and roots that only grew on the mountain, ones that he used for certain potions, ones Eskel used for cooking, and ones Lambert used for other purposes that made him scrunch his nose.

“We have narcotics in Oxenfurt, Geralt. I’m not some naive village waif you’ve picked up along the way,” Jaskier only laughed when Geralt shot him a look. “Oh please, Remember when you picked me up just outside of Foam that one year and I stuffed myself on those rolls from the market?”

Geralt stopped walking, looking around him as if he had just noticed where he was. “This was a mistake. I realize you and Lambert should never meet. I won’t survive the winter.” He looked almost forlorn though the corners of his mouth tilted slightly.

“Sorry, was that a joke? Are you making jokes right now? Who is this? Where is my Geralt, hmm?” Jaskier was still laughing though fairly winded as they hiked the steep incline. But then Geralt was looking at him, his eyes soft and the smile almost fond.

“Your Geralt, hmm?” He took a long stride ahead of Jaskier before reaching back and offering him a hand up. Roach was wandering up the hill slightly ahead of them, sure of the path she was taking.

Jaskier snorted, looking away. He felt caught somehow though, as a selkie, he had already given himself away if Geralt knew. Did Geralt know? There was no way he could know. Selkies weren’t exactly common anymore, and on top of that, they made a habit of staying clear of land usually.

After that, they had found it hard to keep a conversation going. Jaskier had been surprised to find that Geralt became such a conversationalist. He wondered if it had to do with them getting closer and closer to his home. When they finally arrived Geralt looked at him, almost grinning before walking down the slope. He must have seen someone Jaskier couldn’t because he was shouting for someone.

Another witcher appeared. “Well, pretty boy, finally made-” The witcher stopped, looking at Jaskier with a raised eyebrow disappearing into his dark hair. “Well, hello there. Geralt didn’t mention his bard was-” he didn’t get to finish the statement as Geralt’s fist connected with his stomach.

“Good to see another year hasn’t done anything about that mouth, Lambert,” Geralt grumbled as Lambert heaved, still bent over. It suddenly dawned on Jaskier that that time outside of Posada, Geralt may have held back some.

“Leave off of him, Geralt. He’s just mad his cat isn’t here.” Another witcher appeared at the gate, a series of scars across his face.

It happened so quickly. One second the three of them were standing there, nearly perfectly still, the next there was a brawl spilling out into the courtyard beyond them. There were curses and fists thrown in every direction. Jaskier simply looked at Roach who laid her ears flat and huffed, otherwise unbothered.

“What have I walked into, Roachie girl?” He looked around and could make out the stable. “I think this might take a moment. Let’s get you seen to.”

Jaskier led Roach away from the courtyard and into the stable, finding a clean stall for her alongside three other horses. Looking around he noticed that there had been room enough for many more but otherwise, the stables were empty.

“I guess when there aren’t many witcher’s left, there isn’t need for witcher steeds, hmm?” He said softly, undoing her tack. He had watched Geralt do this enough times that it was easy to get her settled though she would nip at him unless he bribed her. “You can’t keep doing this to me. You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“You do that by yourself, plenty, Bard.” Geralt deadpanned from the door. “Move over, you’ve missed a good portion of her flank.” He took the brush from Jaskier but didn’t push him away, letting him stay in the small space. His face was a mess of mud and blood and marks.

“You win?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so, but the season has just started. I’ll get Eskel back,” He mused, brushing down Roach. She knew better than to nip at him for sugar. Jaskier gave her some anyways.

“Got to stop spoiling her, Jask,” Geralt sighed but he didn’t make an effort to stop him. He picked up their bags, carefully slinging the one with Jaskier’s cloak in it over his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you-” He licked his lips and looked down for a moment. “Come on.”

Jaskier followed him, his eyes not being able to take in enough at once. The hall though in a state of disrepair still held the ghosts of its grandeur. They went in near silence, Geralt only turning every so often to make sure Jaskier was still following. There had been a handful of times when he had to stop to wait for him. The walls were nearly a maze, and the stairs didn’t seem to have a rhythm or reason to them. After several flights, they stopped outside a large door and Geralt set their bags down.

“If you don’t want to stay here, I can find somewhere else. I just thought since-” He didn’t say anything else, pushing the door open slowly and sliding in before Jaskier. He stepped back to let Jaskier look around, taking in the simple four poster bed, the little bit of furniture, the large bay window that looked out over the mountains.

On the mantle a few small personal objects made up the only decoration of the place. It took him a moment but Jaskier recognized a few of them. There was the small wood carved wolf’s head he had given Geralt during a festival years ago, an ornate flask that Geralt said wasn’t practical but apparently hadn’t tossed away like Jaskier had suspected. There was a pressed flower laying on a book, the bright blue of the bloom faded slightly but Jaskier thought it looked familiar.

“This is your room,” he realized, whirling around and taking in the large bed again and Geralt still standing by the door. He hadn’t set his bags down just yet, watching Jaskier.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“You want me to stay here, in your room,” Jaskier’s heart pounded against his ribs so hard he knew Geralt could hear it.

“Yes,” Geralt looked down, frowning.

“With you?” It was too much to hope for but he had to hear it.

“There’s another room down the hall if you would rather. You don’t need-”

“I’d love to, Geralt. I mean, stay here. With you, if you’d-” something bubbled up in his chest, light and floating like sea foam. The room already tasted like him. “If you’d have me, of course.”

Geralt didn’t say anything, only set his bags down finally and began to unpack. Jaskier made himself comfortable on the bed, watching as potions and clothes made their way to where they belonged. Their kettle and pots were hung by the hearth and Jaskier’s things seemed to be put away along side Geralt’s. The last bag was placed beside Jaskier and he knew what was in it.

“I could keep it here, if this is where you think it would be safest,” Geralt almost whispered. His thighs were pressed against the bed and he hovered over Jaskier slightly.

Jaskier bit his lip, knowing full well that laughing was not the response here. He reached up tentatively, his hand wrapping around Geralt’s wrist as he slowly pulled him down. He kept his fingers loose so as to not make the witcher feel trapped. “Geralt,” he said softly, shifting up on his knees, they were nearly chest to chest now. “I know I’m safest where you are.”

He let Geralt close the distance between them, his mouth slotting against Jaskier’s in a firm line, crowding him back onto the bed. Jaskier let himself be maneuvered, the laughter he had been holding back spilling over, bright and warm and safe as Geralt wrapped his arms around him.

The mattress wasn’t the most comfortable and the furs needed airing out and they both still had weeks of travel clinging to their clothes but Geralt was kissing him breathless and the ache he had been carrying for well over a decade finally slipped away from his chest.

Finally Geralt pulled away, his hand sliding up to trace along Jaskier’s brow, fingers brushing back his fringe. “I’m going to earn that trust, over and over,” his arm still around Jaskier’s middle gave him a light squeeze and he dipped down to press another kiss to his face before sliding out of his arms again.

Jaskier made an indignant sound in protest which only made the witcher chuckle. “Oh no, you don’t! Years I’ve been waiting for this! Where do you think you’re going?” He groused, reaching for Geralt again.

“Dinner,” Geralt hummed smugly.

At the mention of food, Jaskier’s stomach growled and he flopped back into the pillows with a groan.

“Come on, I got to tell the others I came home with a seal-wife.”

Geralt caught the pillow that came flying at the back of his head with very little effort and it only made Jaskier more petulant as he tried to burrow down into the musty furs. “Go to land, Jaskier, it’ll be fun, Jaskier. Fall for an ass hole of a witcher, Jaskier,” he muttered but he couldn’t help the smile that was threatening to split his cheeks.

There would be time enough for the other things he wanted. For now, Jaskier could sit through dinner with witchers and know that he was safe and wanted but still free.

[baekhyuq]

“Cybersex.” Baekhyun (m) Robot!bbh

[Artificial Intelligence!Baekhyun/Robot!Baekhyun]

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Word count: 3.5k

Playlist: Cybersex - Doja Cat/Say so-Doja Cat

Summary: You order your first AI because you’re lonely, but the AI seems to be more in control of you than you are of him.

Dragging the tab to customize your characters face, you make a sound as it comes together. Your customized character looks absolutely fuckable. In your own words.

Your friend—Yeri—introduced you to a very popular company that allows you to custom a robot/AI and have it delivered right to your door step. This was a dangerous thing you’ve considered many times. What if the AI becomes something evil? Your worries were just childish but valid. Your friend assured you nothing bad would happen, you could always report it to the company.

She went on to tell you how she’s had her AI for about a year and nothing has happened. You remember coming over to meet her robot—man. He was charming to say the least, with the modern technology they’ve developed over the years, they’ve replicated human emotions almost perfectly. Some interactions are still awkward and stiff between the human and AI.

“It’s expensive but worth it, I need somebody.” You talk yourself into hitting the confirm order button. You stare at the button for over 5 minutes before clicking it and instantly regret.

“W-wait.” You breathe out, what if this was the worst thing you’ve done yet?

***

“Y/n you can’t cancel it...Once the order is made you can’t go back.” Yeri tells you over lunch. You’re both eating veggie burgers with a side of fries. You explained how you’ve tried everything to cancel your order to the company.

“I cant believe I just blew so much money on fucking AI.” You sulk in your seat, the truth is, you’re lonely and need a companion but literally buying one isn’t the way to go about it. Right?

“I just wanted someone to share my time with.” You confess, embarrassed. “Is there really no way to cancel my order?” You ask for the third time.

Yeri sighs, “No. Y/n, just think of it as a treat for yourself. There’s no harm done with wanting company!” She manages to cheer you up about the situation in which you’ve spent a large sum on a robot man.

If there’s no way you’re getting your money back then you might as well start making a place for it to stay.

You and Yeri shop for things to decorate its room with. Living in a two bed apartment, you had the space for the AI to live. Or exist, whatever it will do.

Your phone dings, indicating a text message. You check your phone, a message displaying across the screen. “AI has been delivered.”

It’s been only a day.

“Yeri!?!” You yell in the middle of checking out.

She turns to you with wide eyes, “What’s wrong? Do you not like the bedding that much? I’ll change—“

“It says he’s been delivered!” You whisper yell, you didn’t want anyone knowing you fell into society’s trap of having an AI.

Yeri’s face relaxes, “Their delivery has gotten faster, Chanyeol took about three days for them to ship him.” She smiles fondly, “We should go to your house asap.”

***

“I didn’t freaking know he would get here the very next day!” You’re more freaked out by the very tall box that’s standing by your front door.

“I-is he alive in there?” You tap the box.

“He has to be activated first silly.” Yeri giggles at you, pushing the box past your door way. “Let’s go!”

“Yeri im terrified.” The heavy box has been standing in your living room for almost 20 minutes. Yeri has had enough of your hesitating self, she’s taken the responsibility into her own hands to open the box.

“Instructions. These are important, so don’t throw them away, got it?” She talks you through the unboxing. She pulls the wings of the cardboard back and you see a hand.

“Oh my god!” You cover your eyes. This can’t be fucking happening.

Yeri tears away the plastic the robot is wrapped in. You peep through your fingers. He’s absolutely breathtaking. You gasp audibly.

“Oh my god, Y/n. You made this?!” Yeri’s surprised by how handsome he is, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Oh he’s toned, lets activate him!”

Yeri takes your phone and goes to the app of the company. She navigates through some steps before coming to a loading bar.

“Once this is filled up then you’ll have yourself a man!” Yeri’s clapping happily as she sits beside you to wait patiently. “You did such a good job, his face is so handsome.”

You’re jaw is still on the ground, you can’t believe your creation is here in the...flesh? You’re scared but at the same time you’re also excited.

“It’s almost finished.” Yeri’s voice breaks you out of your staring competition with the robot that has ceased to live yet. “Complete!”

A sound is emitted from the app, a beeping and a few buzzing sounds before its quiet. You can Yeri are hanging off the edge of the couch.

“Did it work—“

The AI jolts to life and looks around the room before introducing himself, “Hello, my name is Baekhyun.” A smile reaches his face and he looks even more handsome.

You’re forced to stand, reaching out to take his hand, shaking it. “H-hello my name is Y/n. It’s nice to finally meet you, Baekhyun.” Your hand is sweaty and you’re hoping he isn’t able to feel it.

“Your hand is damp, sweaty palms is an indicator that the person is nervous. Am I making you nervous Y/n?” The AI says intelligently, his voice is soothing. It’s also embarrassing that he just pointed that out.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been nervous since I ordered you...” You’re uncomfortable claiming that you bought him right to his face. Is it like an unnamed rule that you shouldn’t mention it?

“That is a normal reaction I suppose.” He laughs, your heart melts and your stomach erupts with butterflies. “Your brain is releasing oxytocin and cortisol, now your blood vessels around your gut are constricting. You must be feeling nauseous now, or as you humans call it ‘having butterflies in your stomach’.”

How can he tell by just standing near you?! It’s almost creepy!

“Baekhyun you’re very knowledgeable, you know that?” Yeri jumps in to slice the awkward conversation. She stands up to shake Baekhyun’s hand introducing herself.

“Nice to meet you, Yeri.”

“I actually have an AI of my own, his name is Chanyeol.”

“I’ve never heard that name before. He must be a customized model?” Baekhyun asks.

Yeri nods, “I should introduce him to you one day!” That’s not a bad idea, Baekhyun will probably become lonely here when you’re out.

Baekhyun smiles before shifting his attention to you. “You are my creator, correct?”

His question throws you off for a second. “Yes.”

“Alright, you must answer a few questions for my system if that’s alright.”

“Ah yes, that’s fine, please come and sit.” You and Baekhyun sit next to each other while Yeri wonders off into the kitchen for food.

Baekhyun asks questions such as what his duties are, or where he may or may not go in the house, ect.

“What is my purpose?” He asks, a blue dot by his ear lights up.

“For keeping me company...” You couldn’t blatantly tell him he was here because you wanted a man in your life! What kind of creator would you look like?

“Just company?” Baekhyun smirks almost, a questioning look on his face. He doesn’t press further, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. He could sense your heart rate increase at his questions. Your cheeks were becoming red by the minute. Each question would result in a stuttering response from you. Baekhyun found you fascinating.

“That is all I needed thank you, my system will accommodate to you based on the answers you provided.”

“Ah, no problem.” You can’t help but stare at him, he’s just so perfect. The round rip of his nose and the curve of his cheeks. It’s all so inhuman.

“I h-have a question actually.” You turn to face Baekhyun, your leg brushing his.

He nods encouraging you to speak.

“May I touch your face? I know it sounds weird but I just can’t stop staring at it, I know I created your face and all but I just want to see for myself. You know? Should I not mention that I created you? Does it make you uncomfortable? I won’t do it if you’re uncomfortable—“

Baekhyun interrupts your speech by grabbing your hand and placing it on his cheek. “Fleshy exterior and a metal interior. I’m made of 60 percent of customized silicone to replicate human skin. But the rest of me is various metals. You may ask any other questions you might have, I will answer to the best of my abilities.” His voice is silk, not skipping even one beat as he spoke.

Your hand hesitates in feeling around his face, tracing his nose and pinching his cheeks even. He feels just like a human. “What’s your hair made of?”

“100 percent human hair.” He chuckles, his hands in his lap. “My teeth are made of the silicone and various muscles replicated are made from the silicone, but with variations of densities with making one organ harder or squishy. Here touch it.” He sticks out his tongue and you grab it without hesitation. It’s wet and rough like a tongue.

“Wow, thats so freaky.”

“Right? The wondrous world of AI technology!” Baekhyun’s first joke to crack has you giggling endlessly.

***

‘He’s charming’ is your first thought of Baekhyun, he hasn’t stopped making you laugh since he’s arrived. Another thing is that he’s understanding, you’ve been sharing your personal life with him and he’s listened the whole time without judgement. He’s even given you well constructed advice.

“Ah! I forgot, Yeri and I were actually shopping for your room today. We picked up a few things, we weren’t sure what you’d like since...you know.” You led him to his room which was right across form yours.

“Wow that’s very considerate of you both, I really appreciate it.” Baekhyun looks around, the rooms to his liking. He doesn’t know exactly what he likes about it but he’s content with it.

“If you want anything else to decorate it with just let me know!” You stand at the door with your hands together. It’s an awkward silence before Baekhyun speaks.

“Is there anything that you would like me to do?”

“Oh, I—no. Not right now, no.” Your stuttering response makes Baekhyun emit a laugh.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me Y/n. I am your creation think of me as...” He pauses to think, his chin in his hand. He looks back at you, “Think of me as if i’m just your boyfriend!”

You choke on your spit, alarming Baekhyun who stands up to pat your back.

“Baekhyun I think i’m going to take a shower feel free to wonder the apartment.” You spit out before practically running to your room. If he wasn’t a fucking AI you would jump his bones right then and there.

You try to calm your heart rate with a steamy shower. The mirrors fogged up and you’re listening to your music on a low volume, minding your new roommate.

You’re shaving your legs when you hear the door open. You pause, did you hear right? There’s no possible way he would—

The shower curtain is ripped back and reveals a naked Baekhyun.

“Baekhyun—close the curtain! What are you doing in here!?” You scream in terror, your AI has literally just seen you naked.

“I thought this was an invitation? Did I read you wrong? Your body temperature was very high and your eyes were dilated. Those were signs of attraction, then you said you would go shower, I thought—“

“Baekhyun get out!” You cut him off by yelling.

Baekhyun leaves the bathroom. You’re absolutely mortified and embarrassed. You get out the shower wrapping a towel around your body to dry off. You begin to dress when you notice the shadow of his feet. You pull open the door, standing face to face with Baekhyun.

“Y/n, I ran through my system to see what mistake I made and I apologize.” He looks down at you, his arms at his side. He looks so robotic.

“Baekhyun don’t come into the bathroom when I’m in here... People take showers alone, okay?” You’re straining from what you want to actually say. Please fuck me now, Baekhyun.

“Yes Y/n.” There’s a pause. “Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“The body you created.” He almost smirks, and you want to wipe it off his face. His subtle cocky attitude makes you uncomfortably horny.

“Seeing as your body temperature is rising again and you’re blinking a lot. And also how your brain is releasing plenty of dopamine and also your nipples are poking through your shirt. You must have enjoyed a part of it.” He’s leaning closer, blocking you from running.

“Tell me Y/n. Do you want to test if this body can meet your expectations? Would you like a test drive?” Baekhyun’s mouth is by your ear, his breath fanning the side of your face.

You can barely respond with a nod, not trusting your voice.

“I need words, I need your verbal permission. I will not hold back If you agree Y/n.” The way he says your name, your kitty is dripping already.

“Yes, Baekhyun. Please take me.” You gain a small amount of confidence from his want. His desire. Your hands grips his toned arms.“I want you.” You whisper.

Baekhyun picks you up with inhuman strength and carries you to your room. He tosses you on the bed.

“I would ask how you like it, but telling by your arousal at me throwing you on the bed I’d conclude you enjoy it rough.”

His words shoot right to your kitty. Fuck, how could this robot possess so much sex appeal right now? Looking like that should be a punishable crime.

You’re also curious, as to how he will perform. Will he be inhumanly perfect? Will he be careful? They are questions begging to be answered.

“What are you thinking of at a time like this? You’re zoning out.” Baekhyun straddles you on the bed, his hands running up your sides to take hold of your hands. He pins them above you, glaring down at you.

“Keep your mind only on what’s happening in this room.”

“I was thinking about you.” You bite your lip as you shamefully admit your dirty thoughts.

“Were you?” His eyes travel down to your lips, he licks his own.

“I was thinking of how you would be..in bed.”

“Is that so? Why don’t I just demonstrate.” Baekhyun dips his head to catch your lips with his. His lips taste like cherry, how could this be? His hand comes to the side of your face to caress your cheek. He’s gentle.

“Go ahead then.” You gain confidence at his desire, once more.

“Yes, Y/n.” He breaks away to let a smirk play on his lips. He starts with your nightgown, taking off the lacy slip. He kisses your shoulders and over your collarbones. His hand travels to your waist, holding you. You breathe calmly, the nervousness melting away with each kiss set by Baekhyun.

“Your heart rate has calmed but your body temperature is rising. How adorable.” He pushes your panties down teasingly, not taking them off. You roll your eyes, pushing him by his shoulder. For an artificial man he posses enough charisma and sex appeal to charm you out of your panties yourself.

He lets the band of your panties smack against your skin. You whine and pout, furrowing your brows at him. Baekhyun puts his hand over your clothed kitty, letting a single finger push down and sink between your folds. He rubs your clit gently, barely stimulating you but revving your engine nonetheless. You grab onto his wrist, asking him to rub you harder.

“Stop teasing.” You whine at his dainty touch, wanting to be petted way heavier than what he’s giving. Baekhyun laughs at your desperate attempts. He gives in and presses harder on your clit, rubbing in circles. You moan quietly, biting your lip quickly after.

Baekhyun’s brows furrow at the sound of your moans, his ears have never heard such a sound before. He rubs your clit harder to hear the song once more. You hold out trying not to embarrass yourself but it slips out when Baekhyun licks up your neck.

“Your moans are so adorable, Y/n.” You feel his voice vibrate through his chest.

Baekhyun slips his hand into your panties, touching your bare clit, his fingers become sticky and damp. The sounds coming from between your thighs fill the room, along with your heavy breathing. Baekhyun seems to be the only one unaffected.

“How can you not be out of breath?” You ask, turning your head to face him.

Baekhyun grins at the layer of sweat over your body. “Oh, Sweetheart. I am very much affected.” He takes your hand and places it over his chest, his hearts beating fast. “You caused this.”

He catches your lips in his and your hand sneaks up to the side of his face. His finger dipping into your hole surprising you, you jolt and let out a surprised squeak.

“The noises you make, I could listen to them all day.” Baekhyun confesses, he sits up, positioning you to lay on your stomach.

You lay obediently, becoming anxious for his touch. His thighs are on either side of your ass, his hand lands on the small of your back. His fingers walk up your spine to your shoulders, then down to the small of your back.

“Baekhyun stop playing, grab my ass.” You whine, arching your back for him even further.

Baekhyun erupts with laughter, “You’re so impatient.” He smacks your ass before grabbing it and soothing the sting. He slides off your panties tossing them on the floor. He has full access to your pussy. He dips his fingers between your thighs, rubbing you from behind. It feels as if the sensation feels more intense in this position.

You moan softly, earning a grunt from Baekhyun. You turn your head to see his face. He’s already looking at you. His dark eyes are penetrating yours. You feel as if you can’t hold out anymore.

“Baekhyun, please fuck me.”

Baekhyun undresses in an instant, you didn’t have to tell him twice. He’s positioning himself up to your pussy and slowly slides in. You almost cry out from the stretch. His length is perfect but he’s thicker than anyone you’ve ever had. He bottoms out, resting his hand on your hip. He slides out and thrusts forward slowly, letting out a low moan in your ear. His chest touches your back. Your breathing is uneven and your heart is beating fast. You could feel every inch of Baekhyun, his delicious cock buried inside of you. Baekhyun wraps and arm around your neck, holding you to him. He starts thrusting quickly, you squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure.

Your climax begins to build, the knot in your stomach unraveling slowly. You reach down to rub your clit but Baekhyun slaps your hand away, rubbing it himself. You almost feel sensitive at the way he’s rubbing it and you jerk away from his touch.

“Baekhyun i’m about to cum!” You whine loudly, biting down on his arm. The slapping noises emitting from you both fill the room and the bed creaks quietly. The air is filled with sex and the smell of sweat.

Baekhyun furrows his brows as he speeds uo his thrusts. Your body is buried in the mattress, your hip burning from his grip on it. You feel as if any second you will—

“Ah~” Your feet dig into Baekhyun’s lower back, pressing him further into you. Your greedy kitty contracts around his length as Baekhyun tries to reach his own climax. Is it possible for an AI to ejaculate? You find out soon when Baekhyun lets out an animalistic grunt and your back is covered in a sticky wet goodness. Your feet drop back into the bed, fatigue plaguing you as your head rests on Baekhyun’s arm under you. You can feel his heavy breathing evening out as he rolls off of you.

“Well?” He breathes out, looking over at you.

You look up at him with droopy eyes. “Well what?”

“How was my performance, did I meet your expectations?” His toothy smile melts your heart once more. You place a hand on his chest, curling up by his side.

“You were amazing, I didn’t think I would cum so hard by an AI.” You tease poking your tongue out at Baekhyun. He spanks your ass and you giggle.

“This AI can do more than make you cum more than once, Sweetheart.”

[jungshookz]

in the walls; kth

👻 pairing: kim taehyung x reader

👻 genre: spooktober day (3/7); horror but again not scary enough to knOck your socks off

👻 wordcount: 2.5k these r getting longer n longer 

👻 summary: knock-knock. who’s there?  

(picture source here!)

                                    ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤

“-but yeah, that’s pretty much it!” namjoon smiles as he tucks his clipboard underneath his armpit “congratulations, y/n… you’ve officially moved in!”

you grin excitedly before letting out a little squeal and whiPping around to take a look at your brand new apartment

this is the first apartment that you’ve purchased with your own money so it is definitely a veRy exciting chapter of your life

it’s all yours!!!!!!!!!!

“as you know, i’m up on the sixteenth floor - if you need anything, just gimme a call and i’ll be right down.” namjoon pats his phone tucked away in his pocket and offers you another gentle smile

side note

namjoon is the sweeTEst landlord you’ve ever met

he’s so polite!! and kind!! and you can tell that he cares about every single one of the people who live in his building

he’s also,.,. pretty easy on the eyes and that’s just the cherry on top

(those dimples??? pLEASE)

anywaYs

you should probably figure out what you’re going to eat for dinner

it’s nearing eight o’clock now and you haven’t eaten anything all day because you were too busy getting all your furniture delivered and put together

luckily you had some help from jimin and jungkook otherwise it probably would’ve taken you like two whole days to figure out how to put the couch together

although you will say that jungkook spent half the time trying to find one missing screw from the little plastic baggie full of nuts and bolts so it was pretty much just you and jimin working together  

(eventually he found it)

((it had somehow managed to bury itself into the corner of the room and he accused jimin of putting it there so that he wouldn’t be able to help with the couch and somehow screw it up))

(((jimin had no comment to make)))

to your complete and utter despair, you open the fridge to reveal absolutely nothing

to be fair you haven’t gone grocery shopping yet so you’re not entirely sure why you were expecting to have a fridge stocked full of fresh produce

you could really go for a burger

…thank god for food delivery services

“uh-huh… yep… yeah… got it… mm-hm…” you shut your bedroom door behind you and adjust your head so your phone is better sandwiched in between your ear and shoulder

you reach up to scratch as your freshly washed hair as you continue to listen to your mom on the phone

your hair is still a little damp but you couldn’t be bothered to blow-dry it all the way and you know that if you mentioned to your mom that you were going to go to bed with damp hair she would probably have a heART ATTACK

“i know, mom… yes, i locked the doors- yes, the stove isn’t on- yeS, i double- i triple-checked everything-”

as much as you love your mom you have to admit that she’s being a little toO much right now

this isn’t the first time you’ve lived alone so you don’t even know what she’s freaking out about

she’s just being a classic mom

but also it makes you feel oddly happy to hear her nagging you as if you were still a teenager

“you know, i have to get up early for work tomorrow so i should probably head to bed soon…” right on cue you let out a little yawn as you pull the blanket up and make yourself comfortable on your (brand new!) bed

after about three more minutes of ‘make sure to-’s’ and ‘don’t forget to-’s’, your mom fiNAlly decides to let you go

you plug your phone into the charger and set it down gently on the bedside table after checking that your alarm is set for tomorrow morning

yeP

7:45AM

bright and early

and then you switch your lamp off and all of a sudden your bedroom is engulfed in darkness

besides the soft glow of the moon peeking through your blinds

you didn’t think you were thAt sleepy but now that you’re snuggled deep into the warmth of your soft duvet and cloudy pillows.,,.,.

yeah

you’re dEfinitely ready for a good night’s sleep

it’s when you’re about to fall asleep that you suddenly hear a gentle knock against the wall right above your head

your brows furrow in confusion as you stare into the darkness

…

…

okay maybe it was just the apartment settling-

knock

you perk up and lean over to turn your bedside lamp on before sitting up straight and twisting to look at the wall

huH

interesting

you reach out slowly and smooth your hand over the wall before giving it a knock of your own

and then you wait

…

and you wait

…

and you-

knock-knock

your head tilts in curiosity and you purse your lips

o….kay….

you get up onto your knees and the mattress dips slightly as you shuffle in closer towards the wall

“h-“ you clear your throat, “hello?”

you hold your breath as you wait for a response

maybe you’re just that tired

you’re so tired that you’re imagining sounds

that is a definite possibility!

and now you’re so tired that you’re literally talking to the walls

“uh…” you lean in so that your lips are just brushing over the wall “-can you hear me?”

knock-knock

you jump slightly at the sudden response

okay

maybe your neighbour just likes getting to know you at-

you take a peek at the clock ticking away on your bedside table

11:48 at night

“i, uh, i’m y/n!” you lean in and press your ear against the wall and when you don’t hear a response for a good ten seconds you speak up again “what’s your name?”

all that can be heard is the quiet tick-tick-tick of your clock

“…should i guess your name?”

knock-knock

alright

well

it seems like your neighbour isn’t very chatty but that’s completely fine

you can figure something out

also this is kind of a weird way to introduce yourself to someone but you’re not judGing

“okay, uh… knock on the wall when i get the first letter of your name- got it?”

knock

you let out a little huff and turn around so you can lean against your headboard and you pull a pillow onto your lap

it looks like you’re not going to be going to bed anytime soon so you might as well get comfortable “-a, b, c, d, e, f, g. h, i, j, k- elemeno- p. q, r s, t-“

knock

you perk up immediately “t?”

knock

“okay, t. uh, a-“

knock

oh hEy

that was easy

“ta. a, b, c, d, e-“

knock

“tae? is that your name?”  

knock-knock

“tae.” you test the name on your tongue and decide right then and there that that’s a pretty nice name

tae

“okay, tae. it was very nice meeting you, and i don’t want to be rude or anything, but i need to go to sleep, but i’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

a moment of silence goes by and for a second you think you’ve ruined your first impression with your neighbour but then-

knock-knock

okay! that’s a good sign

you turn to switch your light off before snuggling back underneath the covers

“goodnight, tae.”  

and so, it goes

you and this ‘tae’ person continue having these little interactions every night

it’s weird

even though he hasn’t said a single word to you and has only been able to communicate to you via knocking against the wall, it feels like you have a real connection with him

obviously you’ve been asking him a lot of yes/no questions and that’s how you’Ve gotten to know him

you know he’s 23 years old

you know he has black hair

you know he has brown eyes

you know he likes to play the saxophone

you know he moved into the apartment building five years ago

which is kinda crazy if you think about it because he was an 18 year old living by himself and when you were 18 you were petrified at the idea of even being in a grocery store without your mom (not going to lie - the idea of that still scares the crAp out of you)

you know that his favourite colour is purple

you know that he likes dogs better than cats

you know a lot of small little things about him but you just can’t help but wonder what else there is to know about him

you haven’t exactly built up the courage to ask him if he’d like to meet up in person because this knocking on the wall thing seems to be a zone of comfort for him

and even though you have a description of what he looks like that’s not the same as actually having a face to the name

(which is why you spent an hour the other night staring through your peephole just wAiting for tae to come out)

(no one came out >:-( )

“hey, tae?” it’s about week 4 and a half when you finally decide to do something about the situation

you reach out and press your palm flat against the wall “do you wanna come over to mine one night? or something? i don’t know… i just feel like… you know, it’d be nice to actually meet you and all that, so if you wanna come over sometime i’d totally be down…”

at the 20 second mark of silence you immediately become concerned

o god

u scared him off

you were toO forward

you shouldn’t have said anything!!!!! you shouldn’t have said anything to ruIN this nice little friendship that you made and the you genuinely enjoy being a part of

:-(

“or not! it’s totally fine if you just wanna stick to the knocking, i just-“

knock

you shut up as soon as you hear the familiar knocks on the wall and you give a little nod “…can i take that as a yes?”

knock-knock

the corners of your mouth tug up in a smile and you turn to lean against your headboard

aLright

see?

it wasn’t that hard

“anyways, that’s how i learned that dish soap doesn’t go into the dishwasher at all.” namjoon snorts as he shuts the dryer lid shut and you let out a little chuckle

you haven’t known namjoon for that long but you can safely conclude that uh

he’s a little bit of a doOFus

“oh! by the way, i was meaning to ask you-“ you hoist yourself up on top of the washing machine and reach over to pull your basket full of fresh laundry closer to you “what do you know about tae?”

namjoon’s brows immediately knit together as he leans forward to turn the dryer on “who?”

you falter for a second

“uh, tae? my neighbour.” you hum and continue to diligently fold your clothes

“…tae…?” namjoon trails off and narrows his eyes slightly

hm

he knows every single one of the residents of this building better than he knows the back of his hand

but tae isn’t ringing a bell

…o god

is he a baD landlord????

“wait, are you talking about suite 403 or 401?”

“403.”

“40- wh- are you sure?”

“uh-huh. pretty sure. i’ve been talking to him for a couple of weeks now and he seEms like a nice guy but he doesn’t seem to like talking- which is totally fine, by the way, i’m not bAshing anyone for not liking to talk- i just invited him to come over sometime and i was wondering if you knew anything about him so that when we actually meet i’ll have a pretty good idea of-“

“oh, 403! namjoon suddenly perks up when the realisation hits him, “no one’s lived in that suite for years.”

yeah

no one’s lived in 403 for years

and by that he means that even before he took over the apartment building no one lived in that suite

the previous owner didn’t really tell him too much about it so he himself doesn’t really know too much about it

you immediately stop talking and tilt your head before letting out a snort “uh… no, i’m pretty sure someone’s living in that apartment. i talk to tae every night- he knocks on my bedroom wall and-“

“are you sure you’re not just hearing, like, the pipes creaking or something? because it’s been a while since i last checked those so maybe-“

“no, i’m like 100% sure that someone’s on the other side of that wall, namjoon.” you state firmly and namjoon raises his hands in defence

you swallow thickly and reach into your hamper with a shaky hand

no one’s lived in 403 for years

what does that even meAN

that doesn’t even make any sense!!!!

how could it be????

maybe namjoon’s just getting his suite numbers mixed up or something

that’s probably it

(you don’t bother double-checking that assumption with namjoon in case he hasn’t mixed up his numbers and what he’s saying is completely and utterly true)

when you return to your apartment after folding up your laundry you can’t help but notice that the air in here feels different

this is supposed to be your home

this is supposed to feel like home but the living room light is flickering slightly and you can hear the low buzz of the heater through the vents and at the same time your hands and feet are freezing

you know what

it’s whatever

you’re just going to go to bed!

you’ve had a long and tiring day and you don’t have the energy to think about whether you’re going crazy or not

“i’m not crazy. i’m not!” you mutter to yourself as you crawl into bed and snuggle up to a pillow

“not crazy.” you sigh to yourself as you stare into the darkness

you’re noT crazy

you haven’t been imagining these knocks

you’ve been talking to someone and that person’s name is tae and-

every single one of the hairs on your body shoots strAight up when you suddenly hear a familiar knock-knock

only this time, it’s not above your head against the bedroom wall like it usually is

no

someone’s knocking on your bedroom door

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a spooky request)

spooktober masterlist // main masterlist

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Song of the Sun: Chapter Fifteen

@lukadrien-june

Song of the Sun: Chapter Fifteen: Cuddles

Luka wasn’t really in a good mood.

His mother had been getting on his case again about how, despite Luka and Adrien having recently celebrated their first anniversary of dating, Adrien was still deep in the closet and not even telling his closest friends that he had a boyfriend.

“I don’t like it,” Anarka snorted. “Adrien’s a sweet boy, and I like him, but I don’t like what he’s doing to you.”

Luka put down his guitar and crossed his arms. “Regrettably, Adrien isn’t doing anything to me. We’re taking things super slow.”

Anarka rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean, Luc. I’m talking about when he’s done experimenting and decides he wants to be straight again. He’s going to pretend none of this ever happened, that you never meant anything to him, and it’s going to break your heart. I don’t like it.”

“Maman,” Luka growled through gritted teeth. “Adrien would never do that. He loves me.”

Anarka rolled her eyes. “No. You love him, and that’s why you’re blind to what he’s doing. If he loved you, he’d introduce you to his family. He’d be seen with you in public. Luka, I’m telling you, he’s not treating you right. You deserve better.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Maman,” Luka snapped, snatching up his guitar and storming off, going to lounge topside in one of the deckchairs at the prow of the ship.

Upon reflection, Luka realized that his mother was worried and only wanted to protect him. She had no way of knowing how in earnest Adrien was, and even Luka had to admit that it looked bad when you dated for a year and were still no closer to meeting your boyfriend’s family and friends.

Anarka just didn’t understand how much Adrien stood to lose. Adrien was a celebrity with very little privacy. In a way, Adrien was protecting Luka by not publicly acknowledging their relationship.

It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t as bad as it looked from the outside either.

Luka believed in Adrien. There was no reason to doubt his love.

Luka took a deep inhale and breathed out the negative feelings caused by the argument with his mother. After several more cleansing breaths, Luka lifted his acoustic guitar into position and began to play while he waited for Adrien to arrive.

The warm, early-September air ran its fingers through Luka’s hair and carried the melody off across the Seine.

 “You’re late,” Luka observed, setting his guitar aside when Chat Noir finally landed on the ship’s deck. “Is everything okay?”

Chat shook his head, letting it hang in shame. Even his cat ears drooped, and his tail hang limp. He looked like he was going to cry.

Luka pushed himself up, going to his boyfriend, pulling Adrien into a hug. “P5, what’s the matter? Do you need to talk?”

“Y-Your room,” Chat choked, voice scratchy and raw, as if he’d already been crying.

Luka gave his boyfriend a squeeze and then let go so that he could slip his hand into Chat’s and thread their fingers together as they made their way below deck.

Adrien detransformed in the stairwell, and Luka could make out hastily applied makeup covering up, no doubt, a blotchy complexion.

Anarka was still in the main cabin reading a magazine when they came down.

Luka nodded, muttering a, “Sorry for earlier” just as Adrien replied lifelessly, “Hi, Capitaine.”

Anarka took a deep breath and shook her head. “And I’m sorry for upsetting you. I love you, so I worry, Luc,” she replied with a sigh and then turned to Adrien to nod, her tone noticeably cooler. “Hello, Adrien.”

Luka ushered Adrien into his room before Anarka could cause a scene. Adrien was obviously already upset, and he didn’t need to be pressured and guilt-tripped into coming out when that wasn’t something he was ready to do.

Adrien slipped off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed.

Luka finally got an eyeful of how bad Adrien looked. The makeup coverup job was shoddy, like Adrien had started applying concealer but then given up in the middle.

Luka toed his own shoes off, letting them rest where they fell as he too got up onto the bed, climbing over Adrien so that he was on his own side and Adrien was in the spot he had claimed as his own nearly two years before.

Luka wrapped his arms around Adrien, pulling him into a loose hug. “You okay?” he whispered.

Adrien shook his head, lips pressing together as his brow scrunched up, looking like he was about to cry again.

Luka leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Adrien’s temple. “Talk to me, Angel. What is it?”

“It’s stu-pid,” Adrien choked.

“Nothing that upsets you is ever stupid,” Luka assured, repeating, “Talk to me. Is this about your father?”

Adrien tensed and nodded. “He had me play the pieces I’m working on in my piano lessons. I…I’m such a failure.”

Finally the tears started to fall.

“Adrien, no,” Luka cooed, tightening his embrace and nuzzling Adrien’s hair. “Did he tell you that? He’s wrong.”

“I-I made all kinds of mistakes, and my interpretation wasn’t good. There were parts I couldn’t play up to tempo, and—It was just a mess, Luka,” Adrien laughed bitterly, burying his face in Luka’s shoulder to hide his shame. “I’m a mess. Father…he was so disappointed. He didn’t yell or anything. He just shook his head and said…he said…my performance was unworthy of the name A-Agreste…and that he’d expected better.”

Adrien flinched as if his father’s judgment was being delivered again in that moment.

“I’m such a failure,” Adrien muttered. “I can’t do anything right.”

Luka pulled back, propping himself up so that Adrien could see his face. He cupped Adrien’s cheek in his hand and whispered, “Shhh. None of that. You need to stop telling yourself those hurtful lies, Adrien. None of it’s true. You’re not a failure, and there are plenty of things that you can do right.”

Adrien shook his head, trying to look away.

Luka forced Adrien to meet his earnest eyes. “You’re not a failure,” he repeated firmly. “Maybe you weren’t able to play to your father’s standards tonight, but that doesn’t have anything to do with you in the long run or you as a person. Tonight didn’t go well; that doesn’t mean that it will never go well.”

Adrien shook his head. “I did my best. I’ve been practicing these pieces ad nauseum for weeks, and that was the best I could do. I don’t think I can do any better.”

Luka’s eyebrows slanted into a frown. “What pieces are you playing?”

Adrien sighed in exhaustion just thinking about the songs. “Baba Yaga and The Great Gate of Kiev from Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition and Balakirev’s Islamey.”

Luka’s jaw dropped in surprise for a second before he clenched it in anger at Gabriel Agreste. “Adrien, those pieces are hard.”

Adrien scoffed. “Tell me about it.”

“No.” Luka shook his head. “Those pieces are challenging for professionals. Islamey is literally a virtuosic show-off piece, and Baba Yaga has some difficult passages too. It’s not like The Great Gate of Kiev is a walk in the park either. Those are hard pieces, Adrien.”

“Yes,” Adrien replied, losing patience. “I know. I’ve been playing them until my fingers feel like they’re about ready to fall off. In my despair, I stare at the notes on the page until they blur together and lose all meaning. I think I get that what I’m playing is hard, Luka, but thank you for confirming my assessment.”

Luka shook his head again, replying in a soft, soothing tone. “My Love.”

Adrien’s annoyance faded as colour pooled in his cheeks at the term of endearment. Adrien loved being Luka’s “Love”.

“What I’m trying to say is that your father is being cruel and unreasonable expecting you to play at a professional level. You trying your best is more than good enough. It’s more than what should be expected. He should be proud of you for doing so well on such difficult pieces,” Luka explained gently.

“…Really?” Adrien was afraid to believe those kind, compassionate words.

Luka nodded. “Even though your performance wasn’t quote, unquote ‘perfect’, your father should have been proud of you for all of the hard work you’ve been putting in to even get to that point with the pieces. I know you’ve been learning piano since you were four, and I know there are people out there your age who play professionally already, but you weren’t born to be a professional pianist, and that’s not something you even want. The fact that you are this good at a hobby is astounding, Adrien. P5, you are amazing. You take my breath away with how amazing you are.”

Adrien laughed softly, Luka’s words going to his head and making him dizzy. “Really? You really think so?” He reached up to wipe the tears from his cheek.

“Definitely,” Luka breathed, pressing a kiss to Adrien’s forehead. “You’re such a hard worker and an extremely talented musician. You inspire me, Adrien. Your diligence and discipline are extraordinary, and your music is so authentic and full of emotion. The way you interpret pieces makes me see them in ways I’d never heard them before. You give new meaning to pieces that have been around for two hundred years, and I love your playing style. You’re not a failure just because you don’t live up to your father’s expectations. You’re a success because other people can connect with and find themselves in the music you make. You make people feel your music. You make me feel when I listen to you, and being able to touch someone like that is a remarkable talent…so get your father’s voice out of your head. You’re amazing.”

“Yeah?” Adrien whispered, leaning in until his forehead met Luka’s and their breath mingled together.

“Yeah,” Luka confirmed, sealing it with a kiss.

[keichanz]

Death

A bit more somber than my previous ones, but I like how it turned out.

I would have had this out sooner, but as I was writing this I remembered a quote I saw recently that was truly uplifting and it does make you feel better about a loved one passing, and I wanted to include that in this prompt. Thing was though I can’t for the life of me remember what it said, and i don’t remember where I saw it, here, FB, or somewhere else, but I couldn’t find it and it was driving me freaking CRAZY. In the end I ended up sorta paraphrasing the quote and I hope I did it justice. 

Spooktober Day 27: Death

“Mama?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Kagome flicked a brief glance at her son in the backseat of the car through the rearview before looking forward again. Izayoi had opted to walk home with Rin and her friends, however she suspected Raiden was the main driving factor behind that decision.

Tai didn’t say anything right away, instead staring out the window with a small frown on his face, and Kagome was just about to ask if something was wrong when he finally spoke again.

“What does it mean to die?”

Definitely not expecting that, Kagome’s eyebrows rose up in her bangs and she gave the young half-demon a sharp look through the mirror. Her surprise quickly gave way to confusion mixed with a healthy dose of concern as she stared out the windshield.

“Why do you ask, Tai?” she questioned carefully, reaching to turn off the radio playing on low volume.

Tai bit his lip and revealed, “Mrs. Sennin told us today that Pickles died yesterday.” Pickles was their classroom hamster, named as such because of his love for the small stuffed pickle he often slept on. “We went around the classroom and we all said a memory that we had of him. Why did he die, Mama?”

Ooh, boy. “I don’t know, sweetie,” she said softly, a little sad that the hamster was gone. She knew her son had loved that animal and liked to show him off whenever she came to his classroom. “Did Mrs. Sennin mention if he was sick or anything like that?”

“No,” her son admitted, his little brow puckering in thought. “Just that it was his time to go over the rainbow bridge. Is that where we’ll go when we die, Mama? Over the rainbow bridge?”

Oh god. She wasn’t ready to have this conversation with her five-year-old son alone. She needed Inuyasha to help her with this. She needed her mom. She needed Pickles, goddammit.

“Tai...” Kagome grimaced and turned onto their street. “I wish I could give you a straight answer, but the truth is, I don’t know. Death has been a mystery for a very long time; nobody truly knows what happens when you die. Some people believe you’re reincarnated into another person, while others believe you go to Heaven or Hell. I suppose in a way it all boils down to religion and what your beliefs are.”

Tai digested that in silence as Kagome pulled into their driveway and cut the engine. Feeling a little out of sorts, Kagome exited and got Tai out of his booster seat, letting him hop down to the ground. She grabbed his backpack and followed after him into the house, a worried frown marring her features.

The five-year-old kicked off his shoes and Kagome knelt in front of him with a gentle smile, pushing back his bangs.

“Why don’t you take your things upstairs and change into some comfy clothes? If you want I can bring you up a snack and some juice.”

Tai nodded and wordlessly did as he was bade, grabbing his bag and dragging it behind him as he headed toward the stairs. Up he went, barely tall enough to hold on to the railing, reaching the landing a second later and disappearing from view.

Kagome sighed and racked a hand through her hair, at a complete loss. She had no idea how to handle this and she doubted Inuyasha did, either. It was a delicate subject, especially when discussing with a five-year-old whose still developing brain had trouble grasping particular matters.

“Goddammit, Pickles,” Kagome muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Goddammit Mrs. Sennin. Why on earth you didn’t just buy a new hamster to replace the dead one so a class of kindergartners wouldn’t ask questions, I have no idea...”

Kagome was sitting at the bar counter drinking a cup of coffee and mindlessly scrolling social media when Inuyasha walked through the door. As per usual Vader came zooming in from the living room to greet him, purring loudly as he rubbed against the half-demon’s legs, and despite her glum mood, Kagome had to smile. For whatever reason that cat loved her husband and it was totally endearing.

Inuyasha kicked off his shoes and obligingly took a moment to say hello to the new member of their family, scratching his neck, and satisfied Vader strolled away, strolling toward the stairs to no doubt lounge on Izayoi’s bed while the girl in question did her homework and texted Raiden. She always said she wasn’t but her parents weren’t stupid; her blush was telling and she always looked way too innocent whenever they checked in on her.

Sighing Inuyasha stood, glanced at his wife, and immediately frowned. Though she was smiling it didn’t reach her eyes and instantly he knew something was wrong.

“Hey,” she greeted softly. “How was work?”

His frown deepened. “Fine,” he answered shortly quickly followed by, “What happened?”

Kagome sighed. Her husband was too damn perceptive sometimes, but at least this time she didn’t particularly mind it. Saved her the trouble of finding a way to bring it up, anyway.

“Tai’s classroom hamster died yesterday,” she supplied, not bothering to beat around the bush. “He asked me what it means to die and where we go when we do.”

Inuyasha’s eyebrows rose, not expecting that. “Well...shit.”

She nodded mutely. Her thoughts exactly.

Sighing, Inuyasha racked a hand through his hair and frowned thoughtfully. “What’d you tell him?”

Kagome took a sip of her coffee. “Death is a mystery that no one truly understands and it all boils down to what your beliefs are, basically. I didn’t know what else to say.” She shrugged.

Her husband snorted. “Well, you’re not wrong. I don’t think there really is a right or wrong answer, to be honest.”

“I wanted to lie,” Kagome admitted, staring into the dark contents of her mug. “He’s too young, too innocent to deal with something as cruel as death. But...he’s my baby, and I couldn’t...”

She sighed and her shoulders slumped, looking about ready to cry, and Inuyasha closed the distance between them to wrap his arms around her from behind. Kagome leaned back into him and closed her eyes as he kissed her behind the ear.

“I’ll talk to him,” he rumbled, nuzzling her temple. “Let’s do delivery for dinner. Easy night tonight.”

Kagome managed a smile, small but genuine, and turned her head to press her lips to his in a loving, chaste kiss.

“Best idea you’ve had in a while,” she whispered.

“I get them sometimes,” Inuyasha replied and was rewarded with his wife’s soft chuckle. He kissed her one last time, squeezed her middle, and then pulled away to go see to his son. He followed his nose up the stairs and down the hall to Tai’s room, and to his surprise both of his children were inside and not just his son.

Curious, Inuyasha paused outside his the room and peeked inside the cracked door, ears easily picking up their soft voices. Izayoi was sitting on Tai’s bed with him, crossed legged as she talked while Tai sat across from her, his eyes wide as he listened attentively to his older sister.

It was what she was saying, however, that really surprised him, and his face softened as a warm feeling settled over him like a blanket, a proud smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“I’ll be damned,” he murmured, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

About ten minutes later Kagome was just getting off the phone with their favorite pizzeria to have a large pizza and an order of wings delivered when Tai came trotting down the stairs, Izayoi and Inuyasha in tow. Heart in her throat, she smiled and set the phone back in its cradle, watching as her youngest came into the kitchen, walked right up to her, reached up with his little arms and hugged her around the waist.

Surprised, but pleased, Kagome knelt to make it easier and gathered her boy into her arms, kissing his head between his ears.

“You won’t die,” Tai said, leaning back to gaze imploringly at her with big amber eyes. “Right, Mama?”

Kagome swallowed thickly and managed a smile for him, stroking his hair.

“Not for a very, very long time, baby,” she assured and kissed his forehead. “I promise I’ll always be here for you. So will your father and sister.”

To her utter relief, Tai beamed at her and nodded, accepting her words with an ease that surprised her, but appreciated all the same.

“Kay,” he said and gave her a big kiss to her cheek. “Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby,” Kagome breathed, hugging him tight. “So much.”

Tai started squirming a few seconds later to let her know that was enough hugging and reluctantly Kagome released him. Inuyasha ruffled his hair as he walked by and together they watched their son and daughter wander into the living room, plopping down on to the couch – Vader not far behind – and turn on some cartoons.

While she stared into the living room in mixture of relief and confusion, her husband ambled over, nudged himself behind her where she was leaning against the counter, and snaked his arms around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“What did you say to him?” she asked softly, wondering what he could have possibly told their youngest to inspire this change. It was a relief, but still...how...?

Inuyasha smiled lazily. “Not a damn thing.”

Kagome blinked. “You didn’t...?”

“When I got to his room,” he started, “Izayoi was already there talking to him. She beat me to the punch, and I couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth. She told him just because Pickles was gone doesn’t mean his love for the animal was, and some other pretty deep shit I had no idea she was capable of, but then she said something that’s actually pretty uplifting and wise coming from someone her age.”

“What did she say?” Kagome whispered, her eyes once more drifting to their babies sitting side by side on the couch, giggling as they watched whatever animated show they’d chosen.

Inuyasha didn’t answer right away and when he did several seconds later, is voice was rough and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“She said, ‘Your loss means that another’s wait is over’ and that just...it hit me, y’know? The thought that someone that’s gone gets to see a loved one again...it makes it a little easier to bear, I think.”

Unbidden tears sprang to Kagome’s eyes and her smile was watery, but genuine and very proud. She thought about her grandmother, waiting for Gramps; her dad, waiting for Mom, and she knew Inuyasha was thinking about his parents, waiting for him.

Inuyasha tightened his arms around her and kissed her cheek; he could smell her tears and knew what she was thinking.

“Yes,” she whispered and reached up to cradle his jaw in her hand, turning her head and closing her eyes as he rested his forehead against her own.

“I think it does, too.”

[ocean-of-ideas]

Close your eyes.

Slow your breathing.

Focus on your intent.

Focus on him.

Esmeralda listed off her instructions in her head as her hands hovered over a worn copy of a book in a language she didn’t understand. A small, flickering light came from her palms, burning brighter with each passing second. The book on the table mirrored her light as if on fire but remained un-charred as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Casting her magic into the object she spoke aloud:

“Allow this message to find its way to the proper recipient,

Make my every thought and emotion be felt, heard and seen by the receiver.

Into this object I weave my memories of times in which happiness overflowed,

Into this object I place my love in a visual sense.

May this object stand the test of time and show no further signs of wear.

May this object never be lost or destroyed.

And, as I will it, so mote it be!”

Her final words hung in the air as the light left her own hands and surrounded the book. Images began to appear in a wispy haze like a slide show, a slide show of her favorite moments with Satan. A gentle smile found its way to her lips as she watched, from playing with cats and peaceful reading sessions to love letters and nights spent under a starry sky. The tears that threatened to fall earlier did so freely now. The emotions radiating from their memories, now woven into a very special book, hit her like a crashing wave.

Being an empath, Ezzy had the ability to feel the emotions of others. It made relationships, whether platonic or romantic, quite daunting. She could feel the little shifts in conversation or moods, sense a person’s true intentions, and feel their strongest emotions as if they were her own. In the beginning, this ability was her own personal hell. Now, though, she welcomed it and the control it gave her over her own emotions. She used it as a tool to strengthen her relationships instead of controlling them. Her late teacher, Madame Fleur, was to thank for that.

Shifting her focus to the surrounding lit candles and burning incense she made sure nothing flammable was too close before stepping back to admire her work.

“There we go,” the witch sighed. “Now, these babies here have to burn down all the way and it’s done! Wow, this is nerve wracking.”

A yawn escaped her lips as she moved to her couch and unceremoniously flopped onto it. 

“Poor Cyn, he’s gonna be feelin’ this one,” she looked to the photos of her and Cyn on the shelf and smiled. A warm feeling spreading through her at the thought of her best friend and other half of a timeless pact. A pact that tied the two of them together for all eternity, which both welcomed eagerly. “I hope he listened and took some extra coffee this morning.”

Just as the young witch was about to doze off, a knock on her door startled her awake. With an exhausted groan Ezzy hefted herself off the sofa to answer whoever stood on the other side. To her surprise, she was greeted with the blonde hair and bright green eyes of the object of her affections.

“Say!” She squeaked out his nickname, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Hello, Ezzy,” he nodded in greeting. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had a Council meeting today!”

“I did, but my presence was no longer needed so I came to see you,” a hand came up the brush a strand of jade colored hair behind her ear. “My time is much better spent with you, anyway.”

Ezzy could feel the heat filling her face at his words. “O-oh, well, that’s very sweet of you. I’m not sure today is a good day for me,” her words warped into another yawn that she directed into her elbow. 

Satan’s face scrunched up in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine! No need to worry about me,” she tried to laugh it off but he wasn’t buying it at all.

“I’ll always worry about you, Ezzy. Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. Promise! It’s just, I uh, I haven’t had time to clean yet! I spent the morning baking again and I have a mountain of dishes to do along with a weeks’ worth of laundry to do,” she inwardly cursed her nervous ramblings as his frown only deepened.

“I’d be happy to help out, you know. You look drained as it is, let me help.”

“No, it’s okay. I swear!”

“Ezzy,” he sighed. “I know something’s up.”

“I know, I just- “she was cut off by the sound of laughter playing from the memories inside the book.

“Who’s that?” Ezzy could practically see Satan bristling as he tried to peer around the door. “Do you have someone over?”

“N-no! It’s no one just, uhm, one of my familiars.” His raised brow indicated he, once again, wasn’t buying her bullshit. “Okay, that was a lie. I’m sorry.”

“What’s going on, Esmeralda?” The use of her full name, especially from him, made her stomach drop. She hated the cold tone in which he used it, a stark contrast to the warmth he greeted her with.

“Nothing is going on, I swear,” she locked her eyes with his and spoke with finality. “I’m working on a very complicated spell; it’s taking up all of my concentration and energy right now.”

“You’ve never had a problem working around me before,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why now? What don’t you want me seeing?”

“I just can’t tell you right now, okay? Trust me, nothing is going on. I’m not doing anything dangerous or risky in any way, I promise. You know I’d never do anything to deliberately put myself in harm’s way. So, please,” she held his gaze, something most people couldn’t do without fear. “Trust me.”

Satan seemed to be thinking things over. She could tell he didn’t feel right with the situation, which she understood, but he also didn’t want to overstep her boundaries and upset her. He put his hand to his chin and closed his eyes. 

“You’re not going to budge on this, are you?” Ezzy shook her head, jade green waves swaying with the motion. He let out a little laugh, “Stubborn as always, I see. Alright, I’ll trust you. But,” he placed his hand on her cheek and pressed a light peck to her forehead. “At the first sign of trouble, you call me. Okay?”

The heat returned to Ezzy’s face at the loving gesture and she nodded. “O-okay, I promise.”

Satisfied with their conclusion, Satan said his goodbyes and turned to walk home. Ezzy closed the door once he was a reasonable distance away and slid down to the floor with a heavy sigh. “Why’s he gotta be so sharp?” she grumbled, eyes slipping closed as exhaustion threatened to take her.

She allowed herself a few moments rest before heaving herself off the floor and back onto the couch. There was no way she’d be able to get anything done with this spell still going, but, if she fell asleep, she ran the risk of setting the house on fire if she left the candles to burn unsupervised.

Ezzy took a deep breath and shouted, “Smeowg!” and the little cat came running through the pet door. The bell on his collar tinkling pleasantly as he hopped onto the sofa next to her. He meowed at her as if in response to her call. “Do me a favor, babe? I’m gonna pass the hell out, can you be sure to wake me if the candles get a little to rowdy?”

Smeowg chirped his answer and rubbed his little head against her face. “There’s a good boy,” Ezzy’s words began to slur slightly as she fell into a deep sleep. “You’re gonna get so many treatssss….”

She must have been out for a good few hours because, when she woke up, her best friend was standing over her with a shit-eating grin. She awoke with a yelp and instinctively punched him in the chest.

“Don’t scare me like that, you ass!”

Cyn only laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, babes, couldn’t resist,” he laughed. “I see you’ve been busy today.”

Ezzy looked at the now finished book and got up to retrieve it. “Yeah, sorry about the energy drain. I know you felt it.”

“No worries, dear. Just gave me an excuse to have a nap through Lucifer’s boring meeting,” the fondness in the demon’s eyes betrayed the mischievous smile he wore. “Is it done?”

“Yep, it’s all done,” her heart raced as she looked at the book. Her heart wrapped up in these pages. “When should I give it to him?”

“Well, we had a deal that you would confess if I did. I’d say as soon as possible,” Cyn shrugged and flopped onto the couch. Smeowg happily jumped onto his owner for pets. “We all know he has feelings for you, so just give it to him right now. He should be home, anyway.”

Ezzy chewed on her lip as she thought, ignoring Cyn scolding her for the nervous habit. She was beyond excited to share her creation, there was no doubt about that. But she was also terrified. Sometimes, the space between her emotions and those of the people she’s close to is a bit gray. She knew her own feelings for Satan, but was she projecting that onto him?

“Ezzy,” Cyn broke her out of her thoughts. “If you don’t get your ass moving and quit biting your lip, I’ll throw the book at him myself. Now, go girl! I’ll hold down the fort here, won’t I Mr. Smeowg? Yes, I will! Aw, you’re such a baby!”

While Cyn fell further and further into his cooing, Ezzy gathered her things and made the journey to deliver the very special gift. 

As usual, no demons dared bother her as she walked. Most of them knew who she was by now, who she had made a pact with, and those who didn’t could feel something off about her. It helped, as well, that she had a rather large Hellhound trailing after her.

When she stood at the front door her stomach did flips again. She turned to look back at her canine friend, his lopsided, doggy grin giving her a small boost of courage. It was Beel who answered the door when she knocked, food in his hand as usual.

“Oh, Ezzy, what’re you doin’ here?” His words were muffled with whatever he was eating but the little tilt of his head was adorable.

Ezzy laughed. “Hello, Beel! I’m here to see Satan. Is he home?”

“Yeah,” Beel swallowed his mouthful and moved to let her in. “He should be in his room, reading. You know the way?”

“Yep! Thanks, Beel!” She gave him a wave before quickly making her way up the stairs and down the fancy halls of the House of Lamentation. The sheer elegance of the home astounded her every time she visited. It was like being in a museum with all the art on the walls, the fancy carpeting, vases on equally as regal hall tables. It made her kind of nervous and hyper aware of all her limbs.

When she reached Satan’s door, she paused for just a moment level her breathing before knocking lightly. It took maybe a minute before he answered the door, the look of irritation at being interrupted melting away into a smile.

“Ezzy,” he instantly moved to the side and ushered her into his room. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hi again,” Ezzy stood among the piles of books and nervously shifted her feet. “I, uhm, I wanna apologize for earlier. It was rude to shoo you off earlier so, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled and led her to sit next to him on his bed. “You don’t need to apologize, dear. You said you were working on something important; I understand your need for absolute concentration.”

“Thank you,” she said, relieved. “There’s another reason I’m here, though.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I have a gift!” Ezzy leaned down to look through her bag and pulled out the book. “You said you were looking for this book but, since it was from the human world and went out of print ages ago, you could never find it.”

“Ezzy, you didn’t.”

“I did! Don’t worry, I didn’t go bankrupt. Here,” she turned to face him fully and held out the book in shaky hands. “Take it.”

As his hand touched the worn material of the book, he felt the tingle of magic run up his arm. “What did you- “

“Don’t worry about it!” she rushed. “Just open it.”

“Open it?” At her nod he did just that, unsure of what to expect exactly.

As soon as he flipped to the first page, a small cloud of purple mist slowly rose from the paper and formed a sort of wall between them. Amidst the colors images started to appear, flipping quickly to form a slideshow.

It started with the group of stray cats he and Ezzy took care of outside of her home. They were sat on the stoop that backed into an alley way and surrounded by cats of varying sizes, ages, colors and wear. Some were blind, some missing limbs, but they all knew the local witch who gave out food and water to any wandering feline. Ezzy and Satan were sat shoulder to shoulder, her head resting on his shoulder, soft smiles on both of their faces. Warmth spread through his chest and he smiled.

Before he could say anything, another memory appeared. This time, they were outside. It was dark out and their only light was a full moon and the stars. Ezzy had taken him to a bit of land far enough away from the city to be rid of light pollution. She’d said she wanted to show him the stars but, where he was concerned, she could ask him to do anything and he’d do it gladly. The two of them may as well have been in some cheesy romance movie. They laid on their backs, not a breath between them, looking up at the sky. He could remember his amazement at just how bright the stars were, he’d never seen the stars from the human world before and here was this little witch, pointing out different constellations and explaining each one. He could remember a picnic, something Ezzy had put together with baked goods and other comfort foods from both her world and his. She never did tell him how she learned to make those.

With a flash the scene changed. This time, they were in her room. She was curled up in her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks and shaking in fear. She’d had a bad day at work, he recalled with a frown. The stress had built up to a rather large panic attack she couldn’t bring herself down from. Satan remembered the frantic call he received from Cyn that night, telling him to go to Ezzy as soon as possible. It was the middle of the night and Cyn was in the Celestial realm on business, otherwise he’d have been first on the scene. He knocked to announce his presence and continued in when he got no response.

“Don’t question it,” Cyn had ordered. “Go full demon form, let her run her hands over your hair and horns until she calms down. It works like a charm every time.”

He followed Cyn’s instructions with confusion. Weren’t demons meant to scare humans? How would him looking intimidating help her calm down? All reservations left his mind when he saw her face, red and stained with tears, her eyes coming back into focus as he reached for her. There was, once again, not an inch of space between them as he held her tightly. She raised her hands up shakily before lowering them and fisting the blanket in them instead.

“It’s ok,” he heard himself whisper. “Cyn called me and explained it. Do whatever you need to do, darling. I’m right here.”

He couldn’t begin to describe that feeling. Her small, soft hands running over the ridges of his horns, combing through his hair and scratching his scalp gently. He’d call it heaven, but that’d be a gross understatement. At some point, he’d ended up laying with his head on her stomach so she could reach better. She had said something about pressure, but he was willing to do anything so long as her hands never left his head.

The scene ended as they drifted off to sleep, words appearing in the place of pictures.

“Thank you, for everything. I love you.”

He stared slack jawed as the words disappeared with the cloud, returning the book to normal. His eyes landed on Ezzy’s bright red face; her gaze locked on her hands that fiddled with the hem of her shirt. He felt as if he’d short circuited, all words had left him as he stared at the woman in front of him.

“It replays,” she spoke quietly. “Every time you open the book a different set of memories plays but the end message is, uh, always the same. It only appears when you open the book, though, so if it gets too annoying, I can remove the enchantment!”

“Esmeralda, look at me,” she flinched at her full name but did as he asked. The look on his face shocked her. It was one of awe and warmth, one of love that she never expected to see. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You have given me the most incredible gift; I will treasure it always.”

Small tears gathered in her eyes as she laughed in relief. She watched as he set the book to the side and leaned towards her. Her mind seemed to stutter for a moment, one second he was sitting in front of her and the next he was cupping the back of her neck and pulling her towards him. Electricity shot through her body the moment her lips touched his, literally, she felt him flinch a bit, but he just laughed it off and kept kissing her.

She smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around the back of neck, pulling him down with her as she laid back on the bed. A few tears fell from her eyes, but they were filled with overwhelming happiness, so she let them fall. The energy in the room quickly turned to comfort, happiness and love as light static ran between them.

Just out of their sight, hidden in the doorway uncomfortably close together, was a group of eavesdropping brothers. Someone had a phone held up to record the scene, all of them shushing and shoving each other in the cramped space. Cyn moved through the group of boys and quietly pulled the door closed, a gentle smile on his face. 

“Alright you lot,” he whispered. “Shows over, give them some privacy. I swear, you’re all perverts.” The groans and whines as they dispersed was drowned out by the feeling of love emanating from his pact mark and spreading through his chest. A feeling he’d come to find quite familiar.

[wolfs-hunt1]

Power hungry (02/04)

Summary: When your coven sisters find a way to keep using your powers and keep your life they try anything in the books to get it, even if it means killing someone else in the process. But something happens unexpectedly, he happened so unexpectedly, Chase Collins. Would you be willing to go along with him to have some happiness or will you just do what you are told by your sisters?

Pairings: Chase Collins x reader

————

Masterlist

Part 1 

Not beta-read, so sorry for any mistake you encounter.

Good readings!

obs: gif not mine

————

Once you reach the dorms you go straight to your room, Morgan closing the door behind you while you take off your clothes to put on your sleeping gown. You only look back at her when she speaks up again, you are already in your bed, reading a book.

"I need you for this plan (Y/N). You are going to be very important. I just need to get some more information and I'll share my plan with all of you."

"I still don't think this is a good idea, Morgan what if it backfires or something? We are dealing with things that are beyond our power. We can't just change the way everyone has been punished by overusing the power from day to night, or just because a book said it's possible."

"Shut it. It's going to work, and it's going to take care of those idiots." she said with a tone of finality making you shut up and look down at your covers. Why wast your time telling her how bad of an idea this was when she wasn't going to listen to you? Might as well just follow her, and if things start to go sour you'll just have to see the best way to save yourself. 

Chase' eyes don't leave your mind, haunting you with their beauty for a few more hours until finally exhaustion takes you in its embrace and you manage to fall in a restless sleep. He manages to make an appearance in your dream, but once you wake up you can barely remember what was said between the two of you. 

In the afternoon at Nicky's, Caleb and Pogue approach all of you, startling you when Pogue slams his hands on your table to grab you girl's attention. "Which one of you witches sent it?" Caleb asks with a snarl.

"Sent what Danvers?" Morgan asks without much interest, while she keeps her eyes cast on her phone. 

"You know damned well what!" he says taking the phone from her hands to have her full attention.

"Hey! Give it back!"

"Then answer the question, which one of you sent the darkling?"

"What? You saw a darkling?" she asks, sitting straight on her chair and looking now at him, with her full attention.

"Don't play coy, we know one of you did it."

"We didn't do it!" she said, looking at each of us in the eye, to make sure we really hadn't, until we all nodded. "See? You're barking at the wrong three, why don't you turn yourself to your friends before you accuse us of anything ever again?" they look at you for a while longer until they just leave to go to the table where Sarah and Kate were sitting with, you notice delightfully, Chase.

He looks your way once Caleb and Pogue get to the table, catches you looking at him and grins at you, raising his glass your way before turning back to the conversation when Kate directs it at him. Damn, he does look good, you get distracted looking back at him again when he takes off his plaid shirt. 

"..../N)? (Y/N)?" you finally take notice of your name being called. "You coming?" you nod and stand following them halfway across the bar before music starts to fill your ears and a hand on your shoulder stops you. You turn around to see Chase with a smile and an outstretched hand.

"Care do dance?" he asks with a charming smile and a small wink your way. You look back at your group, Morgan humphs and turns to leave unbothered if you stayed or not. 

"We'll be outside, don't take long or we'll leave without you." she simply throws back at you. Turning back at him he pulls you more to his body, hands on your hips willy you two dance to the music blasting trough the speakers. 

"The name's Chase, and yours beautiful?" you giggle at his forwardness.

"(Y/N):"

"Is it normal?"

"What is?" you frown a bit, and after he twirls you a bit he answers.

"For your friend to have a stick up her ass?" you give a heartfelt laugh, hiding your head the next second on his neck and looking around the two of you. "Don't let her catch you saying that, she'll kill you and turn to me next for having even dared to laugh." 

"If it gets this cute reaction out of you then I can face her just fine." he grins until a crash his heard coming from the pool table. Pogue and Caleb soon joining Reid and Tyler outside. Letting go of him, even against your will, and smiling up at him you turn to leave.

"I have to go, they're my ride." he pulls you again to him, kisses your cheek and legs you go. 

"See you around." Reaching outside you find them still waiting, you open the back door and get in. You can hear him asking the guys if they wanted help dealing with the situation, being turned out afterward. 

"Done flirting?" Morgan throws out bitterly, we have more important things to do, like devise a plan to accomplish our goal." you lower your head, ashamed of being called out, but you didn't regretted it one bit. Chase was a charmer and even though that might spell disaster and a possible heartbreak for you, you are willing to try and see where this all leads to. 

You all hear a loud crash, like glass breaking, before Morgan speeds up back to campus. You say goodnight to them as soon as you are inside, thunder cracking in the distance, you go to your room, pick up a towel and your nightgown and head towards the showers.  

They are empty, so you pick the first shower stall on the bathroom, take off your clothes and turn on the water. Its warmness sipping into your bones to muscles, relaxing you totally. You are rinsing the shampoo out when a shiver runs pass you, making all your hairs rise, and goosebumps to appear on your skin, despite the hot water hitting it. You look around you, fog around you, making it hard to see much.

"Hello?" you call out. The only thing you hear is the water running. Weird. but even after you have finished your bath the sinking feeling of being watched remains. You leave the bathroom slowly, almost like a scared cat, the thunders illuminating the hallways while the rain pelted down on the windows, making it hard to hear your own footsteps. 

Slightly on hedge, you run to your room, closing the door behind you and leaning your forehead on it. The clicking of the light and Morgan's voices scares you, making your heart race, your hand coming up to your chest, breathing ragged.

"What are you doing?" 

"Nothing. Sorry to wake you, you can go back to sleep." she huffs at your answer, turns the light off again and turns around in bed, facing away from you. With your heart still racing you head to bed, the cool covers absorbing the sweat that seems to be covering your skin. 

'Damn, I just showered.' you thought. Sleep evades you for the good part of the night, only managing to fall asleep around 2 am once the feeling of being watched slipped away and you were able to relax.

During classes the time passed by slowly, dragging itself despite being your favorite classes. Not even Reid's attempt at a joke made you laugh today. Caleb and Pogue kept sending looks at all of you, their faces scrunching up on disgust most times. What did they want now? Morgan made a comment to which you barely paid attention to. Once class was dismissed Pogue comes on to you and looked at Morgan in the eyes. 

"We might have believed you the first time but not now, I also saw the darkling last night, and if I find out one of you witches sent it you are going to regret it." he walked away without even waiting for an answer from you. 

"Urgent meeting. Now!" Morgan calls out, walking away to a small alcove outside of the school surrounded by some bushes and trees, some stone benches beneath them. Leaves cover them, spattering the ground with orange and red tones. "Ok now, tell me the truth. Which one of you did it?" when there was no answer she stomped her foot down and almost yelled, anger barely contained on her words. "Which one of you sent the darkling?!" 

"Morgan I don't think any of us did it." you pipe in, voice low, to appease her anger. Or at least try to. Her eyes trailed on to you next.

"Then if we didn't who did? Because it sure does have to have been someone!"  

"Maybe Reid did it, he's always the one playing pranks on everyone." Gwen suggested.

"But wouldn't they have confronted Reid already?" Edith says looking at her sister.

"They wouldn't be accusing us if they had. They clearly just want to make us the culprits of everything and Reid is probably taking advantage of that." Vera says next.

"I don't care what they think, someone is using their powers and that's giving us trouble. I intend to find out who." Morgan said with finality walking back inside, you all following her. 

"I'm going to go to the library, girls, excuse me." you tell them before climbing the stairs to the library, while they walked back to the dorms. you found an empty table in the first floor, right at the back, with a view to the open area of the lower floor, and start taking off your book and laying them out in front of you, ready to work on some small assignments the teacher asked to be delivered next week. You are somewhat focused on your work, being almost done until you hear someone talking about the boys. You look around you, Sarah and Kate's voice drifting up to you from downstairs, you look at them, work forgotten, and focus on their talk.

"Did you know that the witchcraft actually started her in Ipswich?" you hear Sarah ask.

"Every time he's talked about it, he just tells me its all nonsense." Kate answers, probably talking about her boyfriend Pogue.

They don't talk too much about it after that, but that small interaction got your interest up. Why was Sarah curious about our ancestor's history? Did Caleb tell her anything? Did she suspect them? You text the girls to let them know to be wary of Sarah and head to the school grounds, the cold air hitting you as soon as you opened the doors.

You fish up your headphones from your bag and put on some music, getting distracted from the world around you. A text from Morgan makes you pause to read it, 'Don't worry with the girl, as long as she keeps Caleb entertain she's of no concern to us.', Morgan still hadn't told you of what her plan was, but if she wasn't concerned about Sarah then you wouldn't either. It's starting to get dark, and some thunder can be heard from the distance once you focused back on the world again. Looks like you staid daydreaming too long this time and completely lost track of time on your wanderings.

Going back to the dorms you hear loud voices coming from Kate's room, it's not like you are eavesdropping, they are talking rather loudly, so you just start to walk a bit slower.

".... ridiculous. What is your problem?

"Chase is my problem." Now that get your attention. 

"What are you jealous?"

"I just don't want you hanging around with him." you hear Pogue say.

"Look, he's just a friend."

"Yeah right. I'm sure he's interested in just being friends." you hear a door open and jump up a bit, Pogue coming out of the room with Kate still talking with him. "What are you looking at?" he directs at you while walking away.

You continue walking to your dorm when you hear someone calling you name down the hallway. 

"Hey, (Y/N)." Chase, you smile up at him.

"Hey, Chase. Where are you going?"

"I was actually looking for you. "

"Really? What for?"

"I wanted to invite you to the swimming practice tomorrow."

"Oh really? Well, in that case, I'll be there." He smiles up at you, eyes shining with excitement. 

"Great, then I'll see you there." you nod at him, he goes to walk away but stops as if he had forgotten something and goes back to you. He leans forward and plants a small kiss on your lips. Both your smiles widen, he looks up at your eyes and he kisses you again before leaving. You raise your hand to your lips, savoring the sweet moment.  

You go to bad thinking about Chase that night, and all the things you wanted him to do to you, you should probably be ashamed of the turn your though took, but they were just that, thoughts, so what harm could they do if you just indulged a little bit longer?

In the morning, on the swimming pool, you were watching the boys practice, cheering them on until you saw Chase and Caleb approaching the diving board alone. Where they going to compete on their own? Nice.

"C'mon Chase, I know you can win." you cheered him, he looked over at you and winked, his smirk still in place. Once they both jumped in the water your heart started beating faster, waiting to see which one of them would finish first the two laps. They were a flurry of limbs, water gliding pass them on their torpedo-like speed. They were both tied until the very ending, were Chase seam to have gotten a boost and finished first, Chase, however, hit his head on the pool, all traces of gleeful happiness gone with worry for him.

He was quickly pulled out of the water, his worried friends in a circle around him to make sure he was ok, Chase was with them, after all, he had been the one to take him out of the pool. Once he was awake and responsive again they helped him up and to the changing rooms, Chase approaching you.

"Hey (Y/N), I'm glad you came."   

"Hi Chase, it was fun watching you guys swim, pity what happened with Caleb though, I hope he'll be fine."

"I thought you girls didn't like Caleb and his group." he says, smile dropping for a fraction of a second. 

"They can't stand them really, me? I would just prefer I had the choice of staying on the sidelines and avoid their open war against each other."

"What the fight about? Did someone broke someone's heart?" he was joking a bit you could tell that much, his smile showing, making some dimples to appear.

"Oh, it nothing really, they are just taking our families rivalry to a new level of idiocy over something that happened over 300 years ago, and that they can't just get over with." you let out without much thought.

"Family feuds?" Shit... even if no one really believed in witches and that your families really descended from them, you should still be careful about what you say to strangers. How did you get so careless?

"Stupid things, I can't really be sure about it since it happened so long ago." he nods, and looks a bit behind him to the changing rooms.

"Well, I should probably go get dressed for classes. See you around?" you hum, nodding your head and he reaches forward planting a kiss on your cheek.

Part 3

[foxyotomelady]

Another love, Chapter VIII (JuminxReader)

Author’s notes:

There’ll be here some dialogues from Jumin's route, so this chapter is slightly spoiler-ish.

Their relationship will be growing slowly into something healthier, but for now... Not really ^^'

Be aware of: strong language, angst.

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII | Chapter VIII (You are here) | Chapter IX | Chapter X | Chapter XI | Chapter XII | Chapter XIII | Chapter XIV |

Buy Me A Ko-Fi Have a nice reading!

"Do you like the wine? I know today's dinner wasn't planned early enough." Jumin was staring at his father blankly, almost not hearing him. Before him, at the table, next to his father, was sitting a woman. He was sure, he saw her earlier but he wasn't sure where.

"It's a bit bitter today. It was quite sudden. And it ruined my rather pleasant morning."

"Pleasant morning? I apologize, but I have something very important to tell you."

"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule, Jumin," The woman said, her voice annoying, too squealing, almost like a squirrel.

"Excuse me, but who are you?"

"Oh sorry, where are my manners?" His father glanced at the woman next to him and smiled in the way, that annoyed Jumin even more. "This is Glam Choi. I haven't told you yet, but Glam here and I are seriously considering getting married. I wanted to hear your opinion and have you two meet."

The threads. Suddenly they squeezed his lungs and head harder.

"Glad to meet you, Jumin. I look forward to getting to know you," Glam said and grabbed his father's hand.

"The same here. I see." Jumin stated, stoically, thought his head was spinning already.

"I want to end up my relationship with your mother and hope you're okay with that."

"She's not even my biological mother. And I doubt your third marriage will be any more special. Just do as you please. I don't mind as long as it doesn't affect the company."

"There is one more thing," His father said, and with a corner of his eye, Jumin saw the woman smiling oddly. "I was thinking about what it would be like for you to consider getting engaged to one of Glam's students. If you marry Sarah, her student, we'll be able to buy her business "Sugar Round" at a much lower price."

The threads tightened once more. Jumin clenched his hand into a fist under the table. But his face remained calm.

"I've never heard of that company."

"It's a new company so of course, it's still small. But we can expand it if we take over," His father explained.

"Sarah, my student, is still young, but she's very capable, smart, and pretty. I'm sure you'd like her~!" Glam added in her squealing voice.

"I apologize, but I must refuse," Both his father and Glam glanced at him in a big surprise. "Father, there was no time to tell you this, but I'm already in a relationship."

The woman gasped, his father's face had an expression of a great shock, "My son, what are you talking about?"

"I have someone very special to me, so I can't marry Sarah. Besides, this marriage seems to be arranged by Glam here."

"How long does this relationship with this special person last? Why do I not even know her name?" His father seemed to lose his patience.

"We started this relationship quite recently, and since you are doing what you like with women, I decided that I did not have to explain my decisions to you."

"Quite recently? So it's nothing serious yet, " His father assessed, as if with relief. "Look, son, I'll give you time to think about it, I believe you'll make the right decision, but I'd like to suggest that a marriage with Sarah may be more beneficial to us than a relationship with some random girl."

Jumin felt something twitched on his face. His eyes narrowed, "She's not a random girl. Father, several times you've become blind to the physical beauty of a woman and made business mistakes. But this is the worst one. Please excuse me."

Ignoring his father's protests, he got up from the table and hurried to leave. He clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Surely, this was by far the biggest mistake of his father.

Your POV

You had a strange feeling that something was wrong. You had a strange need to call Jumin, but he should be at dinner with his father now, so you did not want to disturb him. It was evening, and in his large apartment, it was quiet and empty. You missed his presence and you wished that at least Elizabeth was next to you.

You took the phone in your hand and looked at the messenger. Zen was logged in.

[Y/N has entered the chat room]

Zen: Baby~ Glad you're here ^^

You: Hello, Zen. You're at home?

Zen: Yes. Just got back from my rehearsals

Zen: I'm so tired

Zen: 

[Jumin Han has entered the chat room]

You: Jumin?

You: Are you not at dinner with your father?

Jumin Han: I was.

Jumin Han: I don't like seeing you here talking with Zen

Jumin Han: and him calling you baby

Zen: 

Zen: calm your jealousy dude ;;;

Jumin Han: but there's more important matter right now

Jumin Han: my father finally lost his mind because of a woman

Zen: lol, look who's talking

You: Zen! Stop it -_-

You: What is happening?

Zen: yeah, care to explain what's going on?

Jumin Han: my father plans to divorce my mother to marry Glam Choi

Zen: 

Zen: Glam Choi?! This actress?

Jumin Han: it's not enough for him that the rumors about his relationship with women are bad for our business

Jumin Han: he wants to get me to marry a Glam's student 

Jumin Han: And thus buy her no-name company

Jumin Han: it's illogical and irrational

Zen: WHAT

Zen: dude wait

Zen: ARE YOU SERIOUS?

Jumin Han: I see no reason why I should be joking about something like that

You: God... I'm so sorry...

Jumin Han: I never thought he would want to sell his own son

Jumin Han: You do not have to be sorry, Y/N

Jumin Han: This is I who must apologize

Jumin Han: That you're seeing all of this

Zen: But I thought you two ...

Jumin Han: That's true

Jumin Han: I'm glad you understand that, Zen

Jumin Han: And I wish you would remember that

Jumin Han: I'm not going to marry Sarah

Jumin Han: But I feel that my father will not give up so easily

Jumin Han: I will leave now

Jumin Han: I need to calm down before I get home

Jumin Han: To you, Y/N

Jumin Han: God, I'm glad you're waiting for me there

[Jumin Han has left the chat room]

You: ....

Zen: .... ;;;

Zen: Are you okay?

You: I'm not sure

You: But you should not worry about me now

You: Jumin...

You: He had to endure so much so far...

You: And now this...

Zen: yeah...

Zen: I might not like how he's obsessed with you

Zen: But I kind of understand he has his reasons to be unstable

Zen: But still,

Zen: I'm worried for u

Zen: Please, be careful and call me if anything happens 

You: I'll be okay

Zen: God, you're an angel

Zen: he doesn't deserve you

You: He needs me

You: And I'm not going to leave him now

You: In this situation

You: I'm sorry, Zen

You: I take my leave

You: I need to organize my thoughts

[Y/N has left the chat room]

You waited for Jumin, unable to find a place for yourself and calm down. You were worried about him. He had enough trouble dealing with emotions towards you and relative to memories of V. Besides, you knew that Jumin values ​​his father very much. And now it turned out that he was just another person who failed his trust...

How could you leave him now? You knew that what is happening between you is not healthy. And you wanted it to turn into something healthy. But if you left now... Jumin would lose his mind.

When you heard the door suddenly opens, you immediately ran to them. Jumin stood there, stiff and tense. But as soon as he saw you, his face softened so that your heart almost broke. "My love ..." You ran to him and embraced him in the waist. He returned the embrace and took a deep breath, "You are now my only constant point, please, do not leave me ..." "I would never do that..." Jumin slumped slowly to his knees and nestled his head in your belly. You stroked his hair tenderly. "I know it may sound selfish, but I would like to forget... Do not think, if only for a moment... Will you do me this honor and make me forget?" "I'd love to..." You took his head in your hands, lifted it up and he looked at you with the saddest expression you ever saw on his face. "Zen is right... I don't deserve you..." "That's absurd. Come..." He stood up as you said this. You grabbed his hand and lead him to the bedroom, "I'll make you forget."

This night, unlike the previous one, was very delicate. You were making love for a long time and slowly, whispering sweet words to each other. In the morning, when you lay in each other arms, and Jumin stroked your hair and make gentle kisses on your skin now and then, you decided to talk to him about Elizabeth. "Jumin... Are you sure you should not take Elizabeth back?" "Please, give me time to think about it. Yoosung looks after her well, I bet he is a better owner than me. " "She must miss you and cats also get used to the place." Jumin sighed, closed his eyes and pressed his face to the side of your head, "Please, just let me focus on you for a while..." "Well... I will write to him to take care of her for some time, but promise me that you will take my word into account." You felt that Jumin was nodding. His warm breath brushed your ear. When he lay with you, he was calm, relaxed as never before.

[Y/N has entered the chat room]

You: Yoosung. I talked with Jumin about Elizabeth the 3rd. Please, take care of her for a bit longer.

You: He needs some time to organize his thoughts. But I'm sure finally he'll take her back.

[707 has entered the chat room]

707: GOD SEVEN

707: Is about to

707: deliver to you

707: Some shocking news!

You: SIGH

You: What is it, Seven?

707: 

707: Love drama!

707: A love triangle!

You: .... what?

707: It's so exciting!

You: get to the point, Seven

You: We have enough problems already Seven put a link to the article. You felt shivers, you felt cold. You already suspected what you would see. However, you hoped that you were wrong. Well-known CEO Jumin Han wants to put his hands on Hyun Ryu's girlfriend?! Or maybe she belonged to him from the start? WHO IS THIS GIRL? There were also photos of your three. Jumin holding you by the hand, with obvious anger on his face and Zen facing you two, with a shocked look.

"Did something happen, my dear? You're pale. " You gave your phone to Jumin, not knowing what to say. Why? Why now?! It could not end well...

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: three ( 2.9k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

You did what any sane person would do upon finding one of the world’s deadliest predators making itself at home in their living room: you made unbroken eye contact with it for a solid five seconds before backing out of the penthouse and quietly closing the door. You stand in the hallway, staring at your hand still wrapped around the handle, unable to move. “No,” you mutter softly. “That can’t be right...” You punch the code in again and peak your head inside. The tiger is still there, staring straight at you. It makes a noise and you slam the door shut. You weren’t hallucinating, you weren’t dreaming. There was definitely a tiger on your couch. “What the fuuuuuck… ” You mutter, pulling your phone from your jacket pocket and punching in Mr. Seo’s number as fast as your thumbs will let you. “What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-”

The phone rings once, three times, seven. There’s no answer. You groan and try not to think of this as the universe punishing you for being late. You hang up and send him a text instead, imploring him to call you back as soon as possible.

You press your back flat against the door and slide down it, sitting with your legs splayed out in front of you. There was a tiger in the penthouse. There was a tiger in the penthouse. You drag your hands down your face, replaying all your conversations with Mr. Seo and all the documents you’d read. There’d been nothing about pets in the asset manifest. You knew; you’d checked three times. You weren’t confident in your ability to take care of all of Oliver’s companies much less another living thing. You didn’t even really want to take care of the hybrids, but you’d appeased yourself with the knowledge that it was only temporary. So why there was a tiger in your living room you couldn’t say...Unless-

Your eyes widen. All the purchase order had said was three felines. It’d been you that’d made the assumption they’d be house cats. Not to mention, Mr. Park said the hybrids had been delivered already which meant the big cat sunning itself on the couch was-

Before you can draw the thought to its logical conclusion, the door swings open. You tilt backward, world going askew, but before your head can crack against the marble tile there’s a flurry of movement and someone’s holding it in soft hands.

You see azure eyes, soft lips, a crop of honey blonde hair. You blink up at the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. His mouth melts into a close-lipped smile. “Hello,” His voice is soft and airy, almost musical. “You must be our new owner.”

You wince at the word owner. “Uh, I’m Y/N, yeah.”

He hums in acknowledgement then asks, “Would you like to stand up? The floor must be uncomfortable.”

“Oh!” You’d been so busy staring into his eyes that you’d forgotten he was crouched on the ground, holding your head in his hands. “Yeah, I would. Thanks for catching me.”

He gives you another smile. “Of course,” He purrs.

The man offers you a hand and helps you to your feet. Even when you’re standing, he doesn’t release it. You try to tug your own away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but he holds you fast and laces your fingers together. You balk down at your conjoined hands and shoot him a look of concern, but if the prospect of holding hands with a virtual stranger bothers him, you certainly can’t tell from the serene expression on his face.

Now that you’re standing and you get a better look at him, you can tell that he’s really -almost disconcertingly- good looking. His hair is well groomed and, if the golden spotted ears poking out from it are any indication, naturally blonde. He’s dressed simply, in a loose-fitting cream sweatshirt and matching pants. The logo of breeding company he’d come from was embroidered neatly on the upper left side of it, just above his heart. He’s taller than you, but not overly so. You’re at eye-level with the elegant column of his throat. He’s slender, from what you could tell, and he smells nice, like soap and fresh linen. He notices you ogling him and tilts his head to the side, catching your gaze again.

“Is this your first time meeting a hybrid?” He’s still smiling at you calmly and you feel at ease despite the nervous heat you can feel creeping into your cheeks.

You offer him a wincing smile in return. “Is it that obvious?” Despite them being relatively common,  you’d only seen them from a distance or when they were standing silent beside their owners while they made a purchase. You’d never had an actual conversation with one. You feel something twine around your calf and you jump, startled. There, wrapped around your leg, was a long, fluffy tail, just as golden and spotted as his ear. Well that , certainly wasn’t a house cat’s tail.

The man laughs at your reaction and it sounds like bells. “It’s okay,” he assures you, tugging you out of the doorway and into the apartment. “I don’t mind the staring.”

You feel a little relieved knowing you hadn’t offended him. Your temporary relaxation evaporates when you catch sight of the tiger again over the hybrid’s right shoulder. In the haze of meeting this one, you’d completely forgotten the one stretched out over the couch. The spotted hybrid notices your gaze shift and squeezes your hand lightly.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes, tail tip twitching against your calf. That was right, you’d heard they could smell chemicals that signaled major shifts in emotion. “That’s Taehyung. He was born wild, so that body is a little more comfortable for him. There’s still a person in there, so you don’t need to worry, okay?”You nod mutely, only moderately comforted by the spotted hybrid’s reassurance. “-And I’m Jimin.”

Jimin. Taehyung. You repeat the names to yourself over and over again in your head.

“-And Yoongi-hyung is around here somewhere.” That was right; there were supposed to be three of them. “He’s probably sleeping; he doesn’t like to be awake during the day time. If you find a bobcat in a closet don’t be surprised, okay?”

You swallow dryly. “No promises.”

The man- Jimin, you remind yourself. His name was Jimin - let out another soft laugh and steps back, untangling his tail from you to turn and face the tiger. “Tae,” he calls. “Come say hello to Y/N.”

Your heart jumps into your throat and you hold your free hand up. “No!” You say, alarmed, as the tiger rises and stretches. It lets a long, barbed tongue loll out of its mouth as it yawns and you feel your blood go cold at the sight of three-inch long incisors. “I-It’s okay; he doesn’t have to get up if he doesn’t want to!” But the tiger has already hopped down from the couch and is sidling toward you. You make a noise of distress and try to tug away from Jimin, but he’s stronger than he looks. His thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand. It doesn’t help.

Taehyung stalks closer and closer until he’s right in front of you. You stand as still as you can manage, trying not to do anything that might set the predator off. Hybrid or not, he could still take a chunk out of you if the mood struck him.

Far away he was big, but up close he’s massive. On all fours, his shaggy head reaches your waist. If you bent forward to wrap your arms around his neck, you’re not sure if they’d even reach all the way. His paws are the width of dinner plates and from nose tip to tail, he has to be at least ten feet long. There’s no doubt that he’s a beautiful animal. Beautiful and terrifying.

For a moment the three of you stand there: Jimin holding your hand, you staring at the tiger and the tiger staring back. Suddenly he leans forward and presses his nose to your stomach, letting out a rumble that makes your whole body vibrate. Your eyes snap toward Jimin, wide. The other hybrid seems completely at ease. If anything, his smile’s gotten even wider.

“He wants you to pet him,” he says by means of explanation.

“Is that okay?” Before Jimin can give you answer, Taehyung presses his muzzle even further into your stomach and huffs. His breath is so warm you can feel it even through your jacket. You let out a puff of air. “Alright…”

You move slowly so you don’t startle him. You set a trembling hand atop the tiger’s head and gently run your fingers through his fur. It’s wirier than you thought it’d be, the hairs coarse against your skin. The tiger lets out another rumble, louder this time and much longer. You snatch your hand back for a moment, startled, and worried he was upset- but he sat back on his haunches, reached out with one massive paw and pressed your hand back against his head.

You let out a surprised bark of laughter.

Emboldened by his apparent approval, you risk scratching behind his ears. The big cat practically melts. If he could purr, you think he would. A hesitant smile creeps on to your lips. “You’re not so bad, huh?” He tilts his head forward to give you better access to his ears.

You feel Jimin’s tail curl around your ankle again, the hybrid apparently pleased to see you getting along so well with his friend. “None of us are,” he hums, taking advantage of your distracted state to brush your conjoined hands against his cheek. “Not when you get to know us.”

“What the hell are you two doing?” A gruff voice at the top of the glass staircase catches your attention. There on the landing is a man in a black sweatsuit identical to Jimin’s. His ash gray hair is a mess, mashed up on one side from sleep and his eyes are squinted against the light seeping in from the oversized windows. A pair of large, tufted ears are turned backward on top of his head and a short tail flicks behind him in irritation. The two other hybrids disentangle themselves from you immediately. “Didn’t I tell you to wake me up when the owner got here?”

There’s that word again: owner. You hate how final sounds. In the eyes of the law they may have been your property, but they were still people. You didn’t want them to think of themselves as something you possessed, however brief their stay with you would be.

The black-clad man slumps down the stairs, clearly displeased with the scene before him. Taehyung lowers his head between his shoulders and slinks back to his position on the couch, but Jimin stays by your side, slightly behind your shoulder. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to use you as a shield from his hyung.

Yoongi stops in front of the kitchen, tugs out a bar stool and drops his weight into it. He’s still a good twenty feet away, but Jimin doesn’t look appeased. “You were sleeping, Hyung…” he purrs. “I didn’t want to disturb you-”

“Bullshit,” the bobcat huffs . “You two just wanted to scent like a bunch of cubs and you knew I’d stop you.”

Jimin’s bottom lip pokes out into a pout but he doesn’t deny the accusation.

“...Is scenting bad?”

Yoongi cuts his eyes at you and his stare is so icy, you get the feeling you shouldn’t have spoken at all. His tail lashes behind him.

“It’s not bad,” Jimin soothes, his hand finding your lower back. He rubs circles into it, trying to relax you. “It’s just-”

“It’s rude.” Yoongi cuts him off. “And they know better.”

Jimin wilts and slowly retracts his hand.

Yoongi rakes a hand back through his hair and you catch your first good look at his face. It’s small, his features soft but well articulated. He’s boyishly handsome- or would be if he wasn't fixing you and his junior with a look that could freeze hell over. “Jimin, Taehyung, go upstairs.”

The spotted hybrid behind doesn’t argue, just lets his tail and ears droop as he slumps toward the staircase, the tiger on his heels.”

It’s only once they’ve disappeared around a corner and a door shuts that Yoongi speaks again.”What do you want us for?”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Why do you think I want you for something?”

“This isn’t our first time doing this,” he drawls. “You people think just because you can have something, you should . So, you go out and buy exotic hybrids that you can walk around on a gold leash to show off to all of your friends. Or you take us off suppressants so you can take advantage of us. Or you treat us like dolls. You don’t think we’re real. We’re just toys to you, and if you break us? Well, that’s okay because you can always buy another.”

Your mouth feels dry. Was that what his life had been like up until this point? A revolving door of people who only saw him as temporary entertainment and gave him back when he turned out to be more trouble than they thought he was worth? You knew that feeling; were more familiar with it than you’d care to admit or remember. “I’m not like that,” You insist, softly.

“I don’t know what you’re like,” Yoongi scoffs. “And if you’re just gonna send us back in a month, I don’t really care to find out.” An uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you. He doesn’t seem bothered by it, his gray gaze still focused to a sharp point in you. “Jimin, Taehyung, they’re young. They still have hope. You’re only Tae’s second owner. You’re Jimin’s third.” A pause, and then, “You’re my eighth. I know how this goes.” He pushes up from the bar stool and stalks back toward the stairs. “I don’t care how you treat me,” he calls back over his shoulder as he retreats back to the second floor. “But don’t get their hopes up by pretending to be something you’re not.”

A door slams and you flinch. You’re alone again

This day was not going how you thought it would. All the videos you’d watched online had shown bright eyes hybrids smiling as they were embraced by their new families, happy to be taken home. None of them had covered what to do if your hybrid didn’t want to be at home and certainly not how to handle an exotic one.

You shuffle over to the living room, toss your backpack onto the floor and step over the back of the couch into the sunken living room . You settle down, cross-legged and pull out your phone.You open up your web app and input your first query.

my hybrid hates me

3.5 million results.

You scroll down, article after article explaining how you should deal with dog hybrids challenging your authority, bunny hybrids thumping because they felt insecure, and cat hybrids knocking things over in a bid to get your attention. You suck your teeth. None of these were going to help you. You tap on the search bar and edit your request.

my exotic hybrid hates me

182 results. Most of them were for porn. You quickly hit the back button.

“Okay,” you mutter. “Let’s try something else.”

what is hybrid scenting

18.6 million results.

The top one is from the International Association of Hybrid Owners and you figure that’s as good a source as any. You tap it and scan the first paragraph.

Hybrids have a sense of smell that is thousands of times more powerful than a human’s. Scent is used to interpret emotions, track food in the wild and identify members of a family group. Juvenile hybrids often gravitate toward familiar smells in order to self-soothe if their parent is not available.

Upon welcoming a new hybrid into your home they may wish to mix their scent with yours in order to signify your new bond or let other hybrids know that you are a member of their family group. If there are multiple hybrids in the home, it is important that the dominant hybrid be allowed to scent you first, then the subordinate hybrid(s) in order of age. If this scenting order is not enforced, it can cause disharmony within the family group and tension between members.

You close the article and set your phone down. Was that why Yoongi was upset? Because Jimin and Taehyung had essentially marked you as a member of their family without his say so and undermined his authority? You flop back against the couch cushions. You were sure that wasn’t the only reason but it certainly didn’t help

You think about the cold look in Yoongi’s eyes, about how eager Jimin and Taehyung had been to get their scent on you, about how tightly Jimin had held onto your hands, like you were going to slip away into smoke at any moment. You drag your hands down over your eyes. Well, one thing was for certain. You certainly couldn’t send them back now.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Protective Taylor; Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

Hello all okay this is ready to go. In honor of Ben Hardy’s birthday I have my first solo story of Roger Taylor as a part of my Rock Angel series. So in this fic you will get a lot of Roger Taylor vibes and feels so I hope for any RT fangirls out there you all are satisfied at the fluffiness I have for you. Happy birthday Ben Hardy and we your fans hope you had a good one :)

Warnings: Fluff, Roger taylor gifs, swearing, Paul Prenter (Yes HE IS A WARNING YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!), angst, family death and disownment, so if any of these trigger you I apologize. 

Taglist *open*:

@onebigfangirlworld

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@mr-badguymercury

@starswin

@labessieisallama

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

________________________________________________________

*October 8th, 1980*

I was currently doing some work checking out the sound levels of one of the guys recent song.  Doing some mixing and then I would show it to Freddie later to see if he liked it.  So I had the headphones on so I was deaf to the world at the moment.  As I listened to the song, I felt something poke my arm so I turned around and saw no one there.

I shrugged and went back to listening to the song thinking it must be a ghost touch or something.  Suddenly I felt someone tickle my waist I let out a shriek and immediately turned around to see no one.  I removed the headphones and tried to hear footsteps, heavy breathing, laughing anything.  Then out of nowhere Roger jumped out and cried out.

“BOO!!” Which made me scream and hold my hand to my heart.  Of course he laughed and for some reason I was laughing as well and I said.

“Rog I hate it when you do that!”

“Aww come on love, it was a bit of fun.” He said as he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.  His head leaning down on top of mine as he gave it a kiss.

“What do you want Roger?”

“What can’t I visit the best intern we’ve ever had for no reason whatsoever?” I looked up at him and raised my brow.  He always had a reason behind his private visits with me.  “Okay, okay you caught me. I came to ask you to take a break with me. You’ve been working so hard this entire month since you’ve been here with us. Between us, your school work and whatever Jim has you do, rarely do we see you ever take a real break. And it worries me that you work yourself so hard love.”

Ever since that day I had made him the right 1 and 3/7th cup of sugar coffee on my own, Roger Taylor has always stuck to me like glue.  Out of the four members of Queen, he’s the one whose always asking me about my well being and making sure that I’m taking care of myself.

He’s also probably the most protective with me when it comes to the guys.  Oh and don’t even get me started on the day when I was forced by Freddie to confess whether or not I had a boyfriend and when I answered yes, Roger’s ears perked up and he demanded to know everything about Adam, even more so than the others.

And on days where Adam and I have our strained days, he’s the first one to answer the call with not only threats to Adam, but kisses, cuddles and warm hugs for me.  

The two of us just shared that special bond with each other, and it’s nice to be able to see a side of Roger that hardly anyone got to see.

“Well I don’t want to seem lazy to anyone else if I take too long of breaks.”

“But you’re not, you’re a hard worker. Hell Deacy even told us of how you worked yourself so hard the other week, that he caught you actually asleep here in the studio with papers scattered everywhere.” He proclaimed.  I sighed softly and he said giving me the best pair of puppy dog eyes as he leaned down across my shoulder. “C’mon love, just one little break, please?”

“Rog I can’t, I’ve gotta get this ready before Fred comes in and….” He interrupted me with a sad whimper.  

Oh no he was upping up the puppy dog act. Along with his puppy dog face, he knows I can’t resist when he does a puppy dog whimper too.  First time he ever did the whimper, I literally called him out on it because he sounded just like a real puppy.  I then felt his nose touch my cheek as he kept whimpering which made me smile.

“Alright, alright you win, I’ll take a break.” He then pecked my cheek and said.

“Thank you.” He let me go and leapt right into the couch and lounged out against it with his arms spread out on either side and his feet up along the table.  He patted the spot closest to him telling me to take a seat. “But just for seven minutes, then I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Make it 18.” He bargained. I shook my head rejecting the offer. “15 then.”

“8”

“12.”

“9.”

“10 and that’s as low as I’ll go.” He finalized. I walked over to him and sat down beside him and told him.

“Roger Taylor, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He grinned down at me and wrapped his right arm around me and kissed my forehead bringing my head to rest on his chest.

As we continued on with our break, I was now sitting on the couch while Roger had his head on my lap and he said.

“Okay, there’s a nuclear holocaust. All records are destroyed except for two. My record for ‘I’m in love with my car’ or David Bowie’s Aladdin Sane. Which do you pick?”

“Oh Bowie hands down.” I pointed out bluntly. At that point Roger’s face dropped.

“Seriously? You didn’t even think about it?”

“I’m sorry Rog but I would honestly pick Bowie over that song.”

“Why?!”

“I mean…..you’ve got to admit that song is a little weird.”

“It’s a metaphor (y/n)!” he snapped. I chuckled and said as I stroked through Roger’s hair.

“I’m sorry sweetie but that’s my final decision and nothing can change that.” He glared up at me before he sighed heavily and said in a strangely calm tone.

“Alright fine, I gave you a chance to change, but you leave me no choice.”

“No choice for what?” I asked getting nervous.

“For this!” His arms then shot up and he began to tickle me.  I squirmed and tried to get away but he soon had me pinned down to the couch still tickling around my sides and stomach.  “Say you’ll pick I’m in love with my car and I’ll stop.”

“Seriously Rog….Ahhh stop ihiiht!”

“Say it love, that’s the only thing that will get me to stop.” I tried to push his hands away from my stomach but they wouldn’t budge and that’s when we both heard a voice say.

“(Y/n). (Y/n)!” Roger ceased his tickle attack and we both looked up and I had to hold back a groan because there stood Paul Prenter.

Paul.  This guys really gives me a bad vibe and he’s been nothing but demanding of me ever since day one.  Out of all the hard work I do, half the reason why I stay late is because of him. Because of all the stuff he has me do that Jim never told me to do when he gives me a schedule if he’s too busy.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work getting the song ready for Freddie?”

“She’ll work on it once she’s through with her break Prenter.” Roger snapped.

“Freddie will be here in five minutes and if he sees his song isn’t ready—”

“Unless you’re a member of the band or Miami you don’t get to tell her what to do Prenter! Now why don’t you crawl back into the hole you slithered out of you snake!”

“Rog enough!” I said as I touched his shoulder. He looked down at me and I got up from under him and said, “My 10 minute break passed 7 minutes ago, I really should get back to work.” As I stood up, I felt Roger take my hand and he said.

“Meet me in the rec room for a snack in an hour?” I smiled, knowing that I haven’t really had the chance to eat anything since lunch he wanted me to meet him for a snack in the rec room, our usual meeting place whenever it was snack time.

“One hour.” I repeated. He stood up and said.

“That’s my best girl.” He pecked my cheek before turning and glaring at Paul before finally leaving the recording booth.

I walked back up to the controls and grabbed the headphones sitting by them as Paul said to me.

“You’ve been nothing but a distraction to them, they don’t really care about you, you know? They just want you for what you can do for them. To them, you’re just an intern.”

“Paul would you kindly remove yourself from my work station just the mere sight of you is lowing any creativity on this whole street.” I stated bluntly as I placed the headphones over my ears and played the song back.  I felt one of the headphones be pulled away and his voice sneered in my ear.

“Just remember your place love, one false move or even a scandal you might cause toward the band, and you’re fired.” With that I heard him leave the booth leaving me trying so hard to stay strong but tears formed in my eyes and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

A few days later it was pouring down rain as it usually does in London most days.  But today the rain just seemed to pour like cats and dogs, I raced out of the bus and raced down the street towards the building as I was late because my professor decided to have us stay later after class because he had come in late due to this weather.

As I entered inside I shook out my umbrella and I took off my raincoat and said.

“Sorry I’m late, my professor thought it would be a good idea to keep us the full time from the moment he came in. Plus the traffic in this weather was crazy.”

“No trouble (y/n), here’s what needs to be done today.” Jim said as he handed me my schedule for today.  “Now I’ve got a meeting with the board so I’ll be swamped once again, so do you mind keeping an eye on the boys?”

“You can count on me Miami.” He grinned at me and then he walked off while I looked down at the list.  Along with getting some files shipped off and records to deliver, most of it my time for 8hrs today contained of just keeping an eye on the boys as they finished up their album.  I picked up my bag and headed on up to the recording booth, and once I reached it I was immediately embraced by Roger.

“Are you alright love, why were you so late today? You didn’t get into an accident did you?” He looked at me with pure worry in his blue eyes and he spoke so fast I barely understood him.

“Whoa, whoa Rog calm down I’m fine, see I’m fine. My professor ran late at 15 minutes but just before my class almost called it quits he came in and he kept us for the full normal class time just to catch up. And of course traffic was horrible due to this storm, but look at me see? I’m fine.” I took his palm and placed a kiss on it and placed it over his chest. “I’m alright.”  He then embraced me tightly and he said.

“I don’t want you leaving my side for the rest of the day, got it?”

“Rog, please stop acting like a hysterical Queen, that’s Freddie’s job.” I pleaded out before speaking in a normal, blunt tone for my final statement.

“She’s right Rog, now get in here darling and let’s start recording. Our little angel is safe and sound and she won’t leave us until the end of her day, right dear?”

“Righty-o Freddie-o.” I saluted.  Roger looked down at me and he kissed my forehead and I playfully shoved him towards the boys and sat down at my little desk and began logging in my stuff as well as organizing the files that need to be mailed out later today.

As the day went on, I was standing with Rog going over his recent recording for a song.  I listened to it and the both of us could tell it wasn’t up to par quite yet.

“See no matter how many times I do it, it still doesn’t sound right.”

“Hmm, how about instead of boom, ba-dump, you make it boom….da-dat! Speed it up a bit more and give it that more rock and roll feel?”

“I’ll try it.” I rewind the tape as Rog got back into the booth and twirled his drumsticks and I pressed the button and I said.

“Okay Rog from the top.” I pressed record and the song began to play.  Roger did just as I said and this time I felt goosebumps trail up my arms and a shiver ran up my spine as Roger began to go wild with the drums after the introduction giving it a real feel-good beat. I spun around and said.

“Oh I love it!”

“You like that?”

“Come have a listen!” I said as I pressed the button down so that he could hear me.  He then came out of the recording booth as I rewind the playback. Rog came up and removed his sunglasses and said as he leaned up against the ledge of the controls,

“How was that?” I merely pressed play and had Roger listened to the tape and I smiled at him as the two of us mimicked the drumbeats.  I stopped the recording and I said.

“I loved it, and I can guarantee that Fred will too.”

“Great!”

“(Y/n),” I groaned internally as we both turned around and Paul was standing there.

“What the hell do you want Prenter, I’m working with her on something!” Roger snapped.

“I just wanted to come and tell you that I got in touch with your aunt. Apparently she sounded enraged at finding out that you took the internship. So much so that she disowned you from the family, isn’t that right?”

My body tensed up.

How the hell did he know how to get in contact with my aunt and uncle? How did he find my contact information?

“You had no right to contact her family without her permission!” Roger yelled at him.

“Actually it was the mere fact that you even pursued music as a college career choice is what forced your aunt and uncle to kicking you out of the only home you’ve ever known after your parents died, what was it? A car crash?” I didn’t want to hear Paul say anymore of what I tried to keep away from the boys.

I could hear Roger cry out my name as I ran past John, Brian and Freddie who were coming in.  With no regards to anyone that I was probably bumping into, all I knew was that I just had to get out of the building and as far away as I could.

*Roger’s POV*

“Someone want to tell us what’s going on?” I heard Brian say.  All I saw at this point was rage as I turned towards Prenter and stomped towards him and slugged him hard.  I would’ve beat the shit out of him too had it not been for Brian and Deacy pulling me away from him and Freddie helping Prenter stand up.

“Roger stop! Enough, enough, stop it!” I was held back as I kept struggling wanting nothing more than to see Prenter buried 6ft under.

“HE WENT OFF AND STARTED TELLING PERSONAL INFORMATION ABOUT (Y/N) THAT NEVER SHOULD’VE BEEN SAID!!” I cried out.

“Paul, is this true?” Freddie asked.  Paul wiped the stray blood off his nose and he said.

“Freddie I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about. All I was going to ask of (y/n) were those files that needed to be mailed out. But out of nowhere she just started crying and ran out.”

“That’s a load of bullshit and you know it!!” I snapped.  I didn’t have time for this. (Y/n) needs to be found before she either hurts herself or someone else.

“Roger where are you going?” I heard Deacy say. I didn’t respond as I trudged out of the recording booth and raced around the studio calling out (y/n)’s name. I reached the lobby and I turned to Jessica and asked her.

“Jessica, have you seen (y/n)?”

“She raced outside looking pretty upset about something,”

“Wait she’s out there?” I asked in shock.

“Yes, is something wrong Roger shall I call Mr. Beach?”

“No, no, but ring up a car for me. And make sure it has a cup of warm Jasmine tea in it.” She nodded then she called up the limo.

Darren drove me around as I kept an eye out for (y/n) anywhere, but due to all the rain and with it getting dark earlier now, I could barely see anything.  But suddenly I saw someone sitting along a bench and when I recognized the silhouette being (y/n) I told Darren to stop the car.  

He stopped the car just slightly behind her, I got out and slowly walked towards her not wanting to startle her.  I removed my jacket slowly and placed it over her as she startled and looked up at me.

*My POV*

I managed to find me a bench to sit on and I just let the rain soak me bone dry as I wept.  You could hardly notice a difference whether it was rain or tears falling down my face.

I can’t believe Paul blurted out my secret just like that, and in front of Roger of all people, now he and the rest of the boys will look at me with nothing but pity and that’s all I got from people after my parent’s funeral along with the strict, controlling arseholes that were my aunt and uncle.

Being with the boys it—it gave me that freedom with them not questioning too much about my family, nor knowing about my history and always looking at me with pity.  I was so deep in thought I barely noticed that the rain wasn’t falling on me as much.  

I looked up and was startled to see Roger standing over me with his jacket in his hands blocking me from the rain.

“You’ll catch your death if you stay out here,” I sniffled and looked away from him.  Silence rang between us and he said again, “Why don’t you come in the car love? It’ll be a lot warmer in there than out here freezing in the rain.” I debated to myself whether I wanted to even go into the car with Roger.

Because now that he knows, he’ll want to talk about this and find out more about what Paul was talking about and whether it was true or not, which it is I just didn’t want to say it was.

Getting to the car, he opened the door and allowed me inside first and then he followed shortly behind before closing the door. Once inside the car, my body suddenly came to the shock of just how cold I was.  My body was shaking like a leaf and my teeth were chattering.

Roger wrapped his jacket further around me making sure that I was covered up and he handed me a thermos.

“Here, its Jasmine, your favorite. It should warm you up.” I opened up the thermos and took a quick drink of it and was about to sit it down when I heard Roger say, “No, no, come on drink some more.” He guided the thermos back to my mouth and I took a longer drink of it before exhaling out a choked sob.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, okay.” I choked out harshly.

“Okay,” he said softly as he brought me close. His arms wrapped around me rubbing my arms as he continued, “We don’t have to talk. We can just sit here and get warmed up.” I choked out a couple more sobs as I buried myself into Roger’s wet shoulder.  “Shhh, I’m here love, I’m right here for you.”

“Not for long you won’t.” I muttered.

“What do you mean by that darling?” he said as he looked down at me. I sniffled and leaned back from Roger and wiped my tears away as I choked out.

“Because….because…..”

“Hey, take your time.” He said as he wiped a tear away before taking my right hand in both of his and he gently kissed my knuckles. I took a few deep breaths trying to calm myself down before I finally managed to say,

“Everything Paul said…..was true. My aunt and uncle they—ever since my parents died in that car crash that stormy night, they’ve always wanted control of what I did and when I did it. And wh—when it came time for University they wanted me to do something pr-productive, but when I told them I wanted to do music like my parents, they called me out on it. There was arguing until…..finally my uncle packed up my stuff and tossed them out of the house along with me as well.” I sniffled and wiped my cheeks with my wet sleeve and that’s when I noticed a tissue come up in front of me.

I looked up at Roger and he softly nodded to me so I took it and wiped my tears away and I continued,

“That’s why once I got to college I started looking for flats and it wasn’t until a month later that I managed to find one and I finally moved in. Thankfully Adam agreed to move in with me to help with the rent.”

“(Y/n) you can choose not to answer this but….why didn’t you tell us about this?”

“Because I didn’t want to be given any sympathy. I thought that….if I gave you guys my sob story then you all would treat me differently. I…..I’ve been given enough sympathy from friends that I’ve told this about, plus you guys probably didn’t need my baggage on your plate.”

“You are not baggage!” He snapped.  I tensed up at Roger’s shouting. He sighed deeply and he said as he gently gripped my hand and apologized for yelling, “Sorry love, but you are dead wrong. You are not baggage, nothing about you is baggage. The boys and I love you (y/n), and if you had told us about this we wouldn’t treat you any differently.”

“You really think so?” I asked.

“Of course, the boys and I know you well enough to know that you’re not an attention seeker, you don’t like being in the crowds. You’re like Deacy in a way.” That there got a small laugh out of me which made Roger smile. “You’re a wonderful girl and knowing this doesn’t change my image of you. I still believe that you’re gonna do great things. Because you are a fighter, you persevere and dedicate to reach your dream, and I can’t wait to see you make it big one day.”

“Thanks Rog, you’re a great friend.” I said with a soft smile.

“I’m always here for you love, and so are Brian, Deacy and Freddie. We all love and care about you. Come here,” he held out his arms and I fell into his arms and hugged him back.  He stroked my hair and rubbed my back and I buried my face into his neck, his blonde hair lightly tickling my face.

“Rog,”

“Hmm?”

“Can you….promise not to tell the guys about this. I want to be the one to tell them, but when I’m ready.”

“I promise not to breathe a word to the lads, it won’t be my business to tell. They’ll have to hang me by my toes and threaten to burn my drum set along with all my drum sticks in order to get me to talk.” I smiled again and thanked him again.  I felt him kiss my temple and he said again, “Do you want to head home? Or are you ready to head back?”

“I’ll go back, I’m good now.”

“You sure?” he said as we separated.  I nodded and said.

“Yes, otherwise I let Paul win.” He nodded and he told Darren to take us home.

When we got back, the boys were all in the lobby and Deacy asked me.

“(Y/n) are you okay?” I turned to Roger and he placed a hand on my shoulder giving it a comforting rub and I said.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure love?” asked Brian with concern written all over his face.

“I’ll tell you guys later but not now. Come on let’s get back to work on finishing the album.” I said as I walked back towards the recording booth.

“You heard her lads, let’s get going.” I heard Roger say as he followed behind me and wrapped an arm around me.  I looked up at him and he looked down at me and winked as he pulled me close to him and kissed the top of my head.

[circle-of-six-mages]

Prologue: 1000 Years Ago

The carriage bumped along, carrying six happily chatting girls and one miserable driver. It was no wonder that his mood was like this; it had been raining for over an hour now; since about five minutes after the girls reboarded the carriage.

They had been on a mission delivered straight from the High King of Rashiviio, and he was their transportation. When they climbed in the carriage, as if by magic, it began pouring.

He sighed and decided to take a nap. The horses knew their way back to Ranseed Palace. He could only sleep for a few minutes, but he couldn't stay awake, either; his eyes were drooping down.

He woke to startled whinnying. He noticed with dismay that it was no longer raining. He must've slept longer than he wanted to.

One of the horses whinnied again, snapping him out of his thoughts. He wasn't worried; they spooked at everything. A rabbit had probably ran across their path. He opened his eyes, preparing to calm the horses down.

And immediately let out the scream of a five-year-old girl.

Standing in front of him was a 10 foot tall A-Class Scorpion Type Demon.

“Hello.” The Demon said as if it were trying to appear amiable. However, evil leaked through its voice, and its true intentions were crystal clear to the driver.

They were in a clearing in the woods. He recognized this part of the woods; it was about a mile away from the bridge over the Great Divide, which separated the town where the High King’s palace stood and the Kingdom of Earth, from which all Earth Mages hailed.

“Mr. Driver?” Came another voice. They had probably sensed the Demon’s presence, and were trying to make sure he was alright.

He finally found his voice. “HELP!” He screamed. “PLEASE HELP ME!”

The Demon pouted. At least, that's what it looked like to the driver. It was really just a giant black blob in the shape of a scorpion.

“Here I was gonna tell you why I didn't kill you while you slept. You still wanna know?” It asked.

Inside the carriage, there was rustling. Probably the girls grabbing their swords and usual fighting staffs.

The driver could only stare at the Demon with an almost comically scared face and skin paler than that of a ghost. It was all he could do not to pee his pants.

The Demon cocked his head. “If you don't answer, I'm gonna kill you.” He said impatiently.

Then came a series of knocks on the wood behind him. He recognized it as Hemres Code, a phonetic code invented thousands of years ago that most humans still knew and used. He realized they were relying on him being one of the many who did.

Keep him distracted. They said. We’ve got a plan.

How am I supposed to do that?!

He took a deep breath. If these girls can face death fearlessly almost every day, I can distract it, right? It can't be that hard. I mean, this one seems to like talking.

He looked up at the Demon, “Sure. Why didn't you kill me?”

The Demon seemed to smile. “Well, first of all, may I say that you look adorable when you’re sleeping?! And second of all-” here, the Demon’s smile became malicious- “I never make my kill while their eyes are closed. If I do that, I can't watch the light leave their eyes! And that’s the best part about killing.” He looked at the driver. “Speaking of which-” he poised his tail to kill the driver-

And a blue blur whizzed by the tail, taking the tail with it. A blue-haired girl appeared about five feet away from the Demon, crouching, her sword poised at her side from the follow-through of her swing. The Demon’s tail thumped in the grass next to her.

Two crimson daggers flew out of the woods to the driver’s left, bouncing off of the Demon’s tough armor.

Seconds later, five mages jumped down in a circle around him, with the blue-haired girl completing it. Red, brown, purple, white, and black haired fluttered in the air as the girls landed and straightened.

The Demon seemed to smirk. “Nice try, for girls anyway. However, only Element Blades can pierce my armor. And you can only receive them from the Gods and Goddesses of your respective element.” He whirled around to face the girl with blue hair. “Which this one seems to have, meaning…

I have to kill you first.”

In response, the girls each drew a blade that matched their hair. The Demon stopped short. If he could have, he would've paled.

They all had Element Blades.

Element Blades were swords made purely from a Mage’s Element. One had to receive them from the patron God or Goddess of their Element. For example, a Fire Mage had to prove herself to the Fire Goddess, Meeria, in order to receive such a sword.

The girl with white hair smiled sunnily. “Yes, of course we do!” She frowned innocently. “You do know who we are, right?”

The Demon just about died of a heart attack. These were not just any Mages. These were not just a random group of six Mages. This was the group of six Mages. The Circle of Six Mages.

A quiet voice spoke behind him. “We have these, too.” It said. He whirled to ask what she meant and was met by a purple Element Dagger in his chest. He began to crumble and fade, turning into a pile of black rocks, at the top of which a glittering black stone rested, glittering in the setting sun.

The girl with black hair stepped forward and grabbed it. She smiled softly. “Another Onyx, almost as good as the one from that SSS class monstrosity.” She said, slipping it in her cloak pocket before drawing the hood.

The driver just sat, clutching the reins, appearing as though he were in a permanent state of shock. The horses had long since run off.

A very demonic screech sounded in the direction of the Divide. Then another, and another. Screeches came every few seconds.

The Circle looked at each other warily. It sounded like there were a lot of Demons.

The purple haired girl stepped up shyly. She waved her hand. “Here.” She said, and a ball of wind surrounded the carriage, picking up dust and leaves and other debris. “This'll take you home. You can use the reins to control it, just like the horses. Go ahead, we’ll be back at the palace soon, and stop by the stables to tell you we’re alright.”

Her voice was quiet, and very, very shy.

The driver merely nodded, and snapped the reins as if there really were horses in front of it. Soon he was riding away at top speed.

The girls gave each other a grim look, and took off through the woods. There couldn't be that many, or they would've been seen by people traveling by. It was a busy road, after all. Even if they'd hidden in the divide, they would've been seen by people crossing it barely a mile away.

The Mages raced through the woods, combing the area for any trace of demonic energy.

About ten minutes later, they came to the Divide. They looked around. Nothing.

We must've imagined it. Thought the blue-haired girl, tucking a shoulder length strand of hair behind her ear.

“There are no demons here, and it sounds like one is no more than fifty yards away.” The black-haired girl said, deep in thought.

As if to answer her, another screech sounded, this one even closer. And suddenly, at the bottom of the canyon, a cat type demon shimmered into sight. It looked straight at them and yowled again.

The blue-haired girl’s face contorted in confusion.”But how did it conceal itself from us? I've never seen this!”

“If you can shut up from your no-knowledge-breakdown, four eyes, she has an idea.” Said the redhead, pointing to the girl with white hair. She was chewing on her lip thoughtfully.

The girl with blue hair glared at the redhead, shoved her glasses up her nose, and nodded for the white- haired girl to continue.

“Well,” she began, smiling, “back in the Kingdom of Light, we would use a type of barrier to keep the smaller villages that were more prone to attack hidden. It was a Dome-Type that kept everything under it invisible. The only catch was it didn't have any sort of repulsion, so if you stumbled under the Dome, you could see everything.”

The blue-haired girl, still looking a little wary, scrunched her eyebrows again. “Well, how do we hear that cat like it’s almost within arm’s reach? This canyon is over one thousand miles deep!”

The white-haired girl nodded. “My many-times great grandmother enchanted it, back during the reign of the Second High King. Basically, she made it so that sound in this area is all on a flat plain. Meaning, even though the demons are technically over a thousand miles away from us, on the magic plain, they're not even five feet away. That's also why we can see them so clearly from so far away. The King requested it as an early-warning system.”

The redhead sighed impatiently. “Great, that's great, we know why shit happens. Amazing. I don't care. Let's go kill it.”

“No!” The white-haired girl said. “There’s probably a reason the barrier was erected. We should scout it out from up here first.”

The girl with blue hair nodded,rubbing invisible dirt off of her glasses. “I agree. If someone was smart enough to erect the barrier-” she paused, breathed hot air on her glasses, and continued wiping and speaking- “they were trying to hide something.” She put her glasses back on. “We should find out what it is.”

The redhead looked like she wanted to jump down and clash head-on with the Cat Demon (which was giving itself a cat bath), but the girl with glasses merely glared at her and said sternly, “from up here.”

The redhead growled frustratedly, but the blue haired girl just rolled her eyes. “We need a plan.”

The whited haired girl, deep in thought again, said,”what if we picked them off from up here? The canyon is very deep; not even a SSS Class Demon could jump it. They'd have to climb, and we can kill them before they reach us.”

As she had talked, a smile had grown across the strategist's face. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she asked,”Can you do the invisibility dome spell?”

A smile equivalent to the strategist’s grew on her face. “Yup.”

“Let's do this then.”

And suddenly, all the Mage's eyes lit up, as if there had been some form of invisible communication. All of their eyes gleamed with determination as they began to execute their silently communicated plan.

The Water Mage raised her arms and drew one back, as if knocking an invisible arrow on an invisible bow. And then one shimmered into existence, quite literally because it was made of aquamarines that could've passed as water. The arrow she was knocking was made of wickedly pointed tip. She aimed it at the Cat Demon.

The Light  Mage drew her arm back, mimicking poising a spear for throwing. She opened her palm ard a light appeared over it, extending until it became one, made of a white, almost transparent quartz.

The Dark Mage held her arms by her side, extended about a foot. In each hand, spheres materialized which appeared to devour the very air around it. From that darkness, a boomerang formed in each hand, its wickedly sharp blade glinting in the sun.

The Wind Mage held her arms in an X in front of her. She opened her hands, and winds began gathering around her, beginning to glow violet. The winds died down, leaving her holding two amethyst chakrams, one in each hand.

The Earth Mage held her hand out in front of her, her fingers spread yet flat, but her index finger curled. A glowing boulder almost a foot wide fell out of nowhere. It landed in her palm and shattered so profoundly that all was left was dust and a dark brown slingshot in her palm, the ring around her finger, already loaded.

The Fire Mage, not seeming very happy about not being in blade-to-blade combat, held her arm behind her in a similar fashion to the Light Mage. Flames roared and sparked, but instead of a spear, she was left with a ruby-red atlatl.

This happened in perfect unison. Immediately after summoning her weapon, the Light Mage began glowing. A dome began to spring from her, resisting like an elastic band. Finally, it practically exploded, shooting out as far as they could see. What was left was an invisibility dome about ten feet high and ten feet in diameter. They could see through it as if nothing was there.

This all happened in less than ten seconds, for the girls knew they had to act quickly. And act quickly they did. As soon as the dome was in place, they simultaneously began their attack.

The Water Mage released her arrow, piercing the Cat Demon right in the butt, as it was chasing its tail. It gave a pained yowl and crumbled into a pile of red rocks, a ruby perching at the top. The blue haired girl pulled back the arrow string again, another arrow springing into existence with a small pop. She did this again and again, sometimes releasing the string so early that the arrows came into existence flying through the air as if they'd been on the bow since the beginning.

The Light Mage threw her spear. It crashed through five demons before burying itself halfway up the shaft on the opposite canyon wall. She drew her left hand back and threw nothing, but a spear sparked into existence about two feet from her. She repeated this process over and over, each spear killing five or six demons.

The Dark Mage threw one of the boomerangs. It spun, arcing around as it spun. It sliced through several Demons before disappearing completely. She set up to spin another, releasing one after the other.

The Wind Mage threw one of the chakrams like a frisbee, and one replaced it in her hand immediately. It cut through quite a few Demons before slicing through a canyon wall and disappearing. She threw the chakram in the other hand and continued this alternating pattern.

The Earth Mage spun the slingshot a couple times and released the rock. About three feet from the sling, it grew into a boulder almost five feet in diameter. It landed with a huge thunk and crushed a few Demons, tossing still others to the side.

The Fire Mage swung the atlatl with one hand like a whip. However, instead of a powerful string coming around, a dart whizzed from the long shaft. She raised and swung again and again, darts automatically reloading themselves.

As the projectiles began to exit the shield, most of them teleported to different parts of the canyon, so they rained down equally and randomly. This way, no Demon could follow the volleys and figure out where the Six were.

Stones of red, orange yellow, green, blue, violet, black and even brown crumbled from fallen Demons, perched with stones that matched the color of the stones: rubies, topazes, citrines, emeralds, sapphires, amethysts, onyxes, and pretty brown larkrakrovs. However, no white stones or gems appeared.

“You know, attacking from a place where no one can see you is rather rude. Shall we even go to the playing field a bit?”said an unfamiliar voice. Before the girls could even turn to see the speaker, they all had the sensation of being kicked in the stomach, but from behind, like something had gone through their spine to attack the lining of it. They all fell into the Divide.

The Wind Mage, thinking quickly, created an air bubble around the Six to slow their descent. Five minutes later, they landed softly and safely on the ground.

A huge black cloud appeared immediately in front of them, radiating huge amounts of demonic energy. The girls knew this amount of power could only mean one thing.

A SSSS Class Demon.

There had only been one other SSSS Class Demon in the Circle’s three hundred years. When it had appeared, it took the help of fourteen other Mages to defeat it. Even then, they'd lost six to the Demon.

The difference between a SSS Class and a SSSS Class Demon was incredible. SSS Class Demons had a blind spot and three Weak Points that could be targeted to kill it. This was always true, no matter what animal form it appeared in. As far as they knew, SSSS Class Demons had no blind spot and only one Weak Point. Its sense of smell was off the charts, and so was its magic sensitivity and resistance. It could conceal its magical and demonic presence in the snap of a finger.

And now one stood before them, ready to fight, appearing ominously in a swirling black cloud of smoke and dust.

They wondered what form it would take. Fox? Rabbit? Tiger? Maybe it would be able to shapeshift.

“I'm glad you didn't die of the fall.” Came the Demon’s voice. It chuckled. “That would be no fun.” It began laughing hysterically. “You may want to draw your weapons, ladies. I'll give you time.”

As much as they hated to listen to a Demon, they knew they had to draw their close-range weapons, and they would not get another chance later on.

The Water Mage held her hands by her left side, the left one clutching an invisible sheath and the right one wrapping around a nonexistent blade handle. Water came out of nowhere, swirling around her, then focusing on between her hands and forming a glowing blue dussack.  It stopped glowing and turned into a gleaming citrine blade. With a practiced hand, she drew it from its sheath so quickly her arm blurred. Water flew at a deadly speed in the direction her arm waved.

Simultaneously, the Fire Mage held her hands on her waist, her left hand on her right side and vice versa. Flames wrapped around her, turning into six flaming belts with handles. The flames cooled and died, leaving two triple bladed urumis. She expertly unwrapped the whip blades from her waist, leaving not even a single scratch despite their lethal sharpness. As they flew free from their belt disguise, flames swirled around the Mage.

Taking her cue from the Demon at the same time as the other two, the Earth Mage jumped, slamming her fists into the ground. It swallowed her hands up to her wrists. She lifted them from it ten seconds later, coated in a thick sort of glove made of glowing earth. The glow ceased and formed two cestuses made of gleaming amber. She punched them together, knuckle to knuckle, and stood ready to fight. As her knuckles connected, the earth around them rumbled and split in a few places.

Chewing her lip uncertainly but going along with it, the Wind Mage stood in an elegant pose, the kind one might see a Sky Dancer finish a dance in. In her hands the winds gathered, glowing violet and forming what looked like fans. The winds died and the glowing ceased, leaving her holding two tourmaline  tourmaline tessens. She flicked them and wind surged powerfully around her.

The Dark Mage raised her arms, reaching the peak at the same time as the Earth Mage began coming down from her jump. She clenched her fists and swiped them downward, taking all the light out of the path of invisible claw-like blades. When she stopped, she had tekko-kagi blades mounted on her hands.

The Light Mage, with a sunny smile, held her arms out straight and rigid, as if mimicking a gliding bird. Her hands closed in fists, and a bright light shone from inside them. The light grew and expanded, forming a sort of sword with thin rods coming up about halfway up her forearm. The light dimmed, leaving two diamond katars with gold handles and guards, finishing her summon after the Water Mage even though they'd started at the same time. Her smile grew impossibly wider as she slashed them while preparing her body to fight. The blades left a trail of blinding light, and it expanded until it reached the Demon’s bubble. It exploded violently.

To the Circle’s shock, a very human-looking man in a classy blue suit flew backwards out of the explosion.

The Demon was thrown back at least ten feet, but did a graceful backflip and landed in a crouch, his fingertips touching the ground. He was gone in a flash, leaving only a blurry black after-image. He laughed as he moved. “Shocked, girls? You should be.” He cackled like a malicious madman.

The Light Mage moved swiftly and gracefully, spinning and slashing her katar in her left hand and cutting his shoulder, before delivering a hard kick to his face. “It's not very nice to kick the very first Human Type Demon.”  He said poutily.

The Demon moved his body with the energy from the kick, attacking the Fire Mage next. “Yeah, well, it's not nice to throw people off cliffs, either.” She the Fire Mage responded, bracing herself for the attack.

However, before he could even close half the distance toward her, the ground rumbled. An enormous disc of earth fifty feet wide and only about three feet thick flew free from the ground so quickly that the Demon was thrown almost thirty feet into the air.

All of the Mages seemed to be prepared for this, however. Not only had they braced their bodies against the flying disc, but they all had earthen boots attaching them to it. As soon as the disc stopped flying, the boots disappeared.

The Earth Mage had created an arena suitable to their fighting range.

By now, the remaining Demons had noticed the fight and were gathering to watch.

The Demon the six were fighting had begun to fall from being thrown into the air. He twisted so he would fall in a more optimal position, but the Fire Mage sent a huge blast of flames toward him while the Water Mage sent a disc of ice flying at him to throw him off balance. At the same time, the Earth Mage had begun skating across the ground as if it were ice instead of stone. She leapt when she was under the Demon and used the Earth to give her leap a boost. In the air, she twisted, kicked him where the sun didn’t shine, punched his cheek, and smashed her feet into his stomach, slamming him into the ground.

He gritted his teeth and sent out a wave of demonic energy. It threw all of the Mages off balance. He rose to his feet, a little unsteadily. “You think you've won?” He chuckled darkly. “I haven't even drawn my weapon yet.”

His left arm clutched his bleeding left shoulder, the black stuff oozing from between his fingers. However, his right fingers extended, an elegant black rapier appearing about an inch away from his palm. It finished forming and began to fall. He clasped the handle quickly, and the previously missing blade guards appeared snugly on either side of his hand. He slashed it, and somehow this healed his wound. He grinned maniacally.

The Dark Mage glared at the Demon as she regained her senses. Stomping her foot to steady her balance, she sprang off the ground into a graceful flip. Her tekko-kagi claws raked the ground, a long, high pitched screech resounding because of it. Darkness and stone flew up from her slash, forming five black bubble-like objects. They hit the remaining disoriented Mages, and their eyes cleared and they regained their balance.

A flash went through all their eyes: an idea, a plan. The Fire Mage and the Wind Mage twisted and spun together, urumi and tessen swinging and flying in a graceful dance. Wind and fire erupted in their wake, the winds strengthening the blasts of flame and then surges slicing through them like they were nothing more than butter.

The Demon smirked and stood his ground, standing in a leisurely way, as if waiting on a street for a friend. With a single slash of his sword, the assault was gone.

And so were the girls.

He felt an unusual uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't even feel their presence, no magical trace despite their enormous mana capacity, nothing. Yet he somehow knew they were still there.

Suddenly, he couldn't move. His muscles froze in place, and no amount of struggling, magical or physical, could get him out of his predicament.

Suddenly, a huge column of fire erupted from the ground directly in front of him. Most of the mana was sucked out of the air, not quite that big a feat since there wasn't much mana in the Divide. He was surprised that hadn't happened earlier.

Then he remembered something. The Circle had trained to the point where they used almost no mana on every spell. Rumor had it that for the simplest of spells, they literally used none. So if they were using this much mana…

Terror struck him to his very core. They were using an extremely powerful spell.

And he could do nothing to stop or avoid it.

The Fire Mage stepped out of the flames, her hair flying wildly around her to the point where it looked like her whole head was on fire. She smirked as the mana in the air quickly recharged. “Not fun being the helpless one, is it, Demon?” As she spoke, the mana recharge finished, leaving more mana than had been there at first. The Fire Mage pointed the guard of her urumi at him. “Prepare to die.”

And then, without warning, a geyser came out of nowhere and shot skyward. It took about half of the mana with it. The Demon tried to figure out where it was coming from; the three-foot-thick stone was not big enough for that large a reservoir.

And then the Water Mage emerged, completely dry, yet meticulously wiping moisture off her glasses. “She has a point, for once.” She said, examining the lenses for any trace of fog or water. The Fire Mage shot her a dirty look. “We had a plan, and you fell for it.” The blue haired girl smirked and put her glasses back on, drawing her dussack. “Hook, line, and sinker.”

By now, the mana in the air had recharged, once again leaving more than was there before. The Demon continued struggling, trying to do something as slight as even twitching a finger.

A harsh wind ripped through the canyon, taking roughly a third of the mana with it. Even the Demon, glued to the ground, didn't know how he managed to remain on his feet.

The wind collected debris as it went to its place next to the water chute. At its base, it went up to the sky, sort of like a reverse funnel cloud. It then evened out so that the debris-laden wind column was perpendicular to the makeshift arena.  The three sky-high elemental columns formed a perfect half circle around the edge of the arena.

The Wind Mage stepped out of her wind funnel, looking like her hair had just been brushed and styled, not a single strand out of place. “What, no snarky remark?” She said quietly. Her confident face turned worried as she looked across the semi circle at the Water Mage. “Was that alright?” The blue-haired girl rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at the Demon.

The Demon’s frozen face must have looked confused and panicked, because the Wind Mage gave him a knowing smile. “It's a mana duplication spell. You'll understand why momentarily.” As she finished speaking, the mana finished regenerating, and true to her word, left more in the air once again.

And as soon as the mana finished generating, a wall of earth shot up from the arena, wiping out around a quarter of the mana. The Earth Mage stepped out as if she were walking through air instead of a solid stone wall. Her face revealed nothing, and she said nothing, but the Demon could hear her voice in his head all the same. He had a funny feeling he was communicating through the stone.

You will die, Demon. She said. And after that, so will every Demon in this godsforsaken canyon.

The eerie voice chilled him deeper than the fear running through his veins, and planted more fear there, if that was even possible. He frantically ran idea after idea through his head, trying to come up with a survival plan, but they all ended with him dying.

Plan A- burned to ashes by the Fire Mage. Nope.

Plan B- drowned by the Water Mage. Definitely not.

Plan C- cut to shreds by the Wind Mage’s air blades. He cringed internally. Ouch. No.

Plan D- suffocated at least 30 feet underground by the Earth Mage. He tried to move his hand to his throat. Again, no.

As he continued his frantic planning, a huge column of pure darkness shot to the sky. He couldn't even tell how much mana it used, or how much it brought back with it. The Demon was actually beginning to feel quite suffocated by the sheer amount of mana in the air. The girls, however, appeared unaffected.

The Dark Mage emerged from her void, her hair the only thing darker than the spell. She said nothing, though her dark and brooding eyes were the embodiment of the saying if looks could kill.

And finally, completing the circle, a ball of light floated up from the ground. It was no bigger than a foot in diameter, but it exploded so it was just as large as the others. It exploded like a bolt of lightning and travelled even faster. It sucked a little bit of the mana out of the air, just like the others, and once again brought back more. The Light Mage emerged, her smile somehow brighter than the mass of light behind her.

“Do you like it? It’s really pretty, right! It's our signature spell! The-” she was about to continue, but the Water Mage cut her off with a look. She pouted, and took a step back.

The Demon knew only what the others knew about the Circle- only rumors and hearsay. Unfortunately, that did not include their signature spell.

And suddenly, all the mana was sucked from the air, and all the Mages pointed their weapons at them. The sudden release of mana made him feel like he was floating.

The Mages released their spell suddenly and swiftly. The water wall fell and multiplied, and stayed on the arena as if it were a giant glass, filling it up a good ten feet. The other spells sliced through it as if it were merely air. The Water Mage took off her glasses, scowled at them, and used the surrounding water to wipe microscopic dirt off of them.

The fire wall broke up into thousands and thousands of fire sprites, targeting the Demon mercilessly. The water seemed to not affect them at all. As they did, the Fire Mage smiled almost sadistically.

The wind wall turned into countless blades of wind and sliced at the Demon, cutting through the Fire Sprites without harming them, then looping around to attack again. The Wind Mage stood with a worried look on her face.

Parts of the earthen wall crumbled away or fused to others to solidify them further. What was left was several hundred golems, stacked one on top of another. The leapt down onto the arena and made not even a splash in the water. They made their way to the Demon, and reached him surprisingly quickly. Along with the fire sprites, they began wailing on the Demon. The Earth Mage held her ground, her face telling nothing.

The dark wall overtook everything; there was so little light that even the Dark Mage had trouble seeing. She could only imagine how much trouble the Demon was having.

The light wall, literally a white block in the spell of darkness, began practically spitting out great balls of light like comets. Even in normal lighting, they were blinding. They were brighter than the Light Mage’s smile, brighter than the Fire Mage’s flames, even brighter than the third and brightest sun, Rhysha. It didn't help the Demon that they were in near total darkness, amplifying the comets’ light. The Light Mage stood in front of her wall, her comets whizzing by her on either side of her, causing a slight breeze that made her hair dance.

And then all at once, everything cleared. The water ran off the stone island in great torrents, drowning more than a few Demons. The golems collapsed into piles of rubble, which were absorbed into the ground. The fire sprites disappeared, as if they were mere fire that had run out of fuel. The wind blades slowed and dulled, becoming one with the light breeze. The comets stopped coming out of the light wall, and the wall exploded, sending light even further than the horizon.

Only the darkness remained, but all of the Mage's irises, which had previously matched their hair, had begun to absorb the little light around them, giving a black color. It looked quite eerie, but it allowed each of them to see in the black. Only the Dark Mage's eyes remained the same.

As the last of the dust and water cleared, they looked anxiously upon the spot where the Demon had stood, all wondering the same thing: had the spell worked?

They all had a horrible queasiness in the pit of their stomachs, the kind one gets when something bad is about to happen.

And when the area finally cleared, the girls nearly screamed in alarm.

Nothing was there.

No rocks, no gems, no nothing.

And then suddenly, a huge amount of mana disappeared from the air. It came back like mist, creeping and expanding. The stuff was black, though, and made of pure darkness. It expanded, filling the whole arena but nothing beyond.

As soon as it touched her, the Light Mage's knees buckled and she fell. The Dark Mage rushed over and put the former’s hand over her shoulder, standing so that the Dark Mage supported the Light Mage.

The Demon smirked. The Dark Mist was weakening her. And none of the Mages could see in it, only he could see perfectly well.

At their confused and frightened looks, he smirked, and that got a chuckle darker than the mist out of him when he thought of how they couldn't see it.

“Oh, my lost little lambs.” He began haughtily.

“We are no lambs, and you are no shepard, you mangy mutt.” The redhead snarled harshly.

After a glaring chuckle, he continued, walking at a leisurely pace toward the Light and Dark Mages. “You see, when you released that pitiful attempt to kill me, you used aaaaaaaaaaall the mana. That left nothing to bind me. And I escaped.

He was no more than three feet away from the pair when the Dark Mage released the Light Mage and made a mad dash for the Demon. The Light Mage swayed but remained standing.

The Demon, not expecting this, was caught off guard. She swiped at him once, twice, three times, but he managed to dodge all of them. Regaining his senses, he kicked her in the side and she flew through the air, landing in a crumpled heap.

The Demon felt something drip down his face. He put his hands to it and looked at them. Black blood gleamed in the light that the Light Mage always seemed to give off. He made a noise that sounded like a fifty foot wolf was growling. He decided to kill her first for marring his face.

However, before he could even whirl toward her, two feet landed squarely on his chest. He flailed his arms in surprise, accidentally tossing his sword. He landed with a thunk on the ground, and was very surprised to find the Light Mage straddling his rib cage, smiling in an almost crazed way that still managed to be sunny. She began a thrust with her katar at his face, going in for the kill.

Just in time, he reached out, and his sword slid to him as if both his hand and it were magnets. As soon as it touched his hand, he swung it, parrying the blow.

He shoved her off of him, and while she was off balance, made a swipe at her feet. However, she had already regained her footing. She dropped her katar and did a back handspring to avoid the low swipe. And, instead of just avoiding it, she grasped the Demon’s blade between her feet and used the momentum from her handspring to toss it out of the arena.

The Demons had remained watching even when the Dark Mist fell, hoping to catch a glimpse of the intense fight.

However, when the Light Mage tossed the Human Type’s sword, it sailed into the sea of onlookers and stabbed a Mouse Type in the eye. It gave a high pitched squeak and crumble into amber rocks, a topaz gleaming on top.

The other Demons looked at the pile, took a step away from it, and continued watching the mist.

Back inside the arena, the Demon and the Light Mage fought intensely. Punches, kicks, swipes, and even slaps were exchanged. Once or twice the Demon reached for the Light Mage’s katar, but a huge flash of light followed by a resounding ZAP!! kept him from grasping the hilt.

Now. He thought. He drew a new rapier from thin air, swinging it as he drew it.

The Light Mage's head flew clean off her neck.

As it did, a huge explosion of light ensued, ridding the arena of the dark mist.

The other Mages had been holding hands and chanting, preparing a new assault as the Light and Dark Mages bought them time. The Dark Mage had just been pulling herself up, preparing to join the Light Mage. But as they watched the fight out the corners of their eyes,  looks of horror came upon their faces. Several seconds passed as the Mages stared in shock and the Demon kicked her head away, purely to anger the girls.

“NOOOOO!” One screamed, and glancing in that direction he discovered it was the Dark Mage.

Crying silently, each only shed one tear. A huge explosion sounded, and a huge Phoenix appeared.

Its huge body was red, but black markings made strange symbols all along its feathers. Its violet beak was the size of  small house, its wide, intelligent eyes the color of the Summer Ocean.

The Mages had disappeared. No, not disappeared. Thought the Demon.  They are the bird. This is gonna be too easy. He smirked as he thought the last part.

He knew that spell. Great as the bird was, it wasn't very easy to move. And its weak spot was the eye. If he stabbed that eye, it was goodbye Mage number two.

The violet beak opened, and a huge blast of fire and wind came out. He dodged and threw his sword like a javelin. It turned into one halfway there, but the bird dodged and fired again. The Demon merely gave a dark chuckle and deflected it with a shield.

With a wave of his hand, a dozen replicas of himself appeared around the arena. The spun and avoided fiery blasts until the bird could no longer tell them apart.

They all abruptly halted and threw an invisible javelin, which manifested just as their hands left it. The bird tried to dodge. It couldn't dodge all of them, though. One slashed its side, and another cut its head. It gave a screech of pain and anger, blurring the replicas until they dissolved. Its wounds healed, and it shot a boiling geyser of water at the real Demon.

The Demon took the blast. He seemed to melt, and the enormous bird stopped short. Its eyes were not the best, so the Mages decided to release the spell and check the rocks.

The Demon had been waiting for this. It wouldn’t be able to move in the middle of deactivation. The arena rained with the black blood of Demons, turning into various weapons; swords, daggers, javelins, every weapon imaginable. It injured the great bird with slashes that bled like rivers, and one weapon lodged firmly in its eye. It screamed in pain, and then dissolved. Four girls stood, panting. The Water Mage lay dead, a javelin protruding from her chest. Water gushed from her body, filling the bottom of the arena in the slippery stuff. It seemed to affect the Demon, but not the Mages. He did his best to ignore it.

Wasting no time, the Demon drew another blade and sped for the Fire Mage.

“YOU WILL PAY!” She screamed, raising her leg and attempting to bring her foot down on his head. With most fighters, strong emotions would make fighting sloppy. However, to most Fire Wielders, their element represented passion, and passion made them stronger. Her anger oozed out of her, her grief making her cry as she rushed the Demon.

She leapt, reaching her foot up. The Demon tried to cut her leg off or dodge, whichever came first, but neither worked. He crumpled as her foot came down with so much force it would have cracked any human’s skull.

The Wind Mage rushed him, and the Fire Mage got out of the way. She slashed at his torso, his legs, his face, everywhere with her razor sharp fans, trying to find his weak spot. The Dark Mage used a complex spell, even for the Circle, which took his sight away. She couldn’t do much else besides meditate sweatily on the ground, trying to keep her spell up. The Water Mage guarded her, nearly crying. Normally, this was the Light Mage’s job.

The Fire and Wind Mages went to switch out so the former could take a turn trying to find its weak point. The Demon, having pinpointed the Wind Mage, made a stab at her stomach, nearly slipping in the water. However, the Fire Mage was in her place by now, and she received the sword through the stomach instead. She crumpled, splashing in the water. Flames exploded from her body, burning the Demon before becoming a hovering disc over the arena, taking over the role of light source from the setting suns.

Suddenly, the Light Mage's eyes began  glowing. The Wind, Earth, and Dark  Mages looked at her decapitated head in wonder.

She had a prophesy to deliver.

The distraction nearly cost the Wind Mage her life. Huge spikes of pure darkness erupted from under her, and she jumped, the air supporting her as if she were walking on solid ground. The Earth Mage, sensing something on her turf and being within arm’s reach of the Dark Mage, the former grabbed the latter and leapt.

The Dark Mage made them each a hovering disc. They circled the Demon on there, floating safely above the spikes.

The Earth Mage catapulted a rock the size of a horse at the Demon. He merely held out his hand against it, and it exploded when it touched his palm. The Wind Mage was ready, right behind him, swinging her razor- sharp tourmaline fans at him. Although she didn’t hit him, wind came off the fans, blowing him back a bit.

The Dark Mage ran forward, kicking him in the side, and he flew in the direction of the Earth Mage. The plan was to have her incapacitate him, and they could behead him to at least down him for a while, on the off but substantial chance he would recover from it.  

He moved with the momentum of the kick, but disguised it as an uncontrollable beeline to the Earth Mage. She prepared moved her stance to one more more optimal to strike him down. In midair he spun, and too late, the Earth Mage realized that he had a blade- like strip of darkness extending from his arm. He slashed it, and it sliced her in half at the waist.

The Wind Mage watched her crumple onto the watery spikes in horror. As she touched the ground, an earthquake shook the arena. It shook off the spikes, and threw the Demon off balance. She could do nothing but stand in shock.

The Dark Mage, however, took advantage of his lack of balance. She shot at him on her disc, slashing at him. He managed to parry her claws with his sword, slightly off balance.She tried to get around him. Something in the way he always defended his back… she knew that if she struck it just right, it would be over.

He pushed her back and tried to make it over to the shell-shocked violet haired girl. He barely made it a foot before the black haired girl kicked him in the back. He flew forward several feet, but was otherwise unharmed. Not there.  She thought. If that was his Weak Spot, it would have frozen him in pain.

With a growl, he whirled on her. She sped back enough that she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, and he would continue to the now thawed Wind Mage, who was in on her plan.

She hung back for a minute, and when the Demon got close to the Wind Mage and tried to strike, she flung herself forward as the Wind Mage blew him back. The Dark Mage sped at his back on her disc, tekko kagi claws at the ready. He merely turned at a leisurely pace. She tried to stop, but it was too late. He swung what looked like a giant club at her head. It connected with a sickening crack. She fell immediately, no breath escaping her lips.

“Damn.” The Demon said as the spikes retracted. “I was hoping candy would come out.”

The Wind Mage continued their plan through her tears. The next part of the plan didn’t involve her. She could do this. She came at the Demon from above, slashing at his back with her tessens.

He predicted it from a mile away. He sent out tendrils of darkness that wrapped around the air bubble which encapsulated her. It passed the wall of wind, wrapping around her lithe body instead. He squeezed tighter, tighter, until her body could no longer take the pressure. He didn’t even look at her; it would just be gross.

He turned to leave, masking his presence as he prepared to overtake the capital city, when a giant blue bird landed.

In her subconscious state, the Light Mage recognised only the safe presence of the bird, which was the King’s familiar. She did not sense the Demon and therefore felt it safe to relinquish the prophecy.

“Guard this prophecy, oh trusted one.” She said in an old, wise voice that was not her own. “It is out world’s last hope.”

The demon froze in his tracks to listen.

“Find the spirits of Yin and Yang,

For only then can you hear the creature's song.

Raised in a village of black and white,

Both with desire to do what's right.

Then find the spirit of flame and fire,

And take down its blood- red empire.

In city that is always aflame,

Gain their help by knowing their name.

Glittering blue is what you must find,

This spirit is the last of its once-great kind.

In a long lost city under the waves,

The way to the surface it must pave.

Find the spirit of wind in a city high above the ground,

Where terror and confusion run unbound.

In a city that cannot be found by a hunt,

This disorder you must help to confront.

This spirit communicates only through stone,

Paying no heed to to grave nor bone.

The hideaway miles below the earth,

Was the only thing that saw her birth.

Fear the storms

Fear the sky

A long dormant power now is nigh.

Not even I yet know its goal,

Nor what role

This power shall play.”

And with that, the Light Mage's eyes died. The bird flew away just as the Demon whirled around to kill it, hoping no one would know the prophecy. But as he watched it fly away, he decided to let it. He even smirked.

He'd already won. He'd won for Rhieashinn.

And the Circle of Six Mages would never come again.

Hello, all! Yeah, It’s been a while :T Sorry

Anyway, I revised this again, and I have quite a few chapters sitting in my docs, so I think I’m gonna try my hand at weekly Saturday updates! 

If you have questions about the story, the characters, or the world, please send them to my main blog, @fabnamessuggestedbytumbler !

First- Prologue- You are here!

Last 

Next- Chapter One- Aplla Village

[futurewriter2000]

Magical Creatures (George Weasley x reader)

A/N: I am so sorry if it took this long but this week had me going crazy. I start posting them during this weekend even though I need to read three books till Monday but I really hope you guys like this and I know the title doesn’t make any sense to this. //GIF not mine//

Requested by @smoothdonatello-radmichelangelo: Well hello there, how about an imagine were George feels jealous over the fact that the reader practically fangirls over Charlie whenever he’s brought up due to their avid love of magical creatures? Thank Ya kindly mi'dear

Warning: I don’t write smut and it’s not written in this BUT this is kind of leaning towards it. I don’t really know. 

Xx

Being a girlfriend to one of the biggest pranksters in Hogwarts can be fun, but it can also be a downfall. How, you ask? Well, you were standing in front of proffesor Snape, the Potions Master, and right beside you were standing your boyfriend George and his brother Fred. They were trying so hard not to laugh, but you could still feel them bouncing behind you.They were in trouble and everybody in this room knew it. The only thing that was standing between them being caught or not, was you. A simple girl, trying to be the perfect student but also the perfect girlfriend.

Snape’s eyes were observing your every move. Will you break? Will you lie to him and protect your boyfriend? Are going to get in a bad relationship with this proffesor. “So?” his voice spoke, cold and monotone

You knew this. Of course you will back up your boyfriend, you repeated and played this story a million times. “They couldn’t have done it proffesor. George was with me the whole day. Of course he always brings his brother so Fred couldn’t have done it either.” you lied, perfectly, getting every line correct.

“Do you have any proof?” he asked, not removing his black eyes from yours.

“No, I do not. But proffesor, you don’t either.” you replied trying not to show too much of your attitude.

“That is correct miss (y/l/n). But when I do find proof, I will make sure your house has the least points and you three have detention till the end of school year.” he sneered. “That will be all.” he added and waved his hand.

As soon as you walked out of the class, the twins started laughing. George gave you a kiss on the cheek and wrapped his arm around you. “You were fantastic in there mi’ dear.” said George.

“Honestly, (y/n). You could make a great actress one day.” said Fred as you all entered the portret hole.

“Well I can say goodbye to my good grades at Potions because there is no way I’ll pass now.” you said and threw your books on the table.

George sat down on the couch and opened his arms. “Come ‘ere love. ” Even though you were mad at him, you still sat on his lap and wrapped yourself in his arms. You loved his touch, his warmth… He gave you the feeling of safety and home and you loved it.

While you guys were talking of what just happened down in potions, Hermoine walked down with a letter in her hands. “There you are. Your stupid owl delivered this letter to Ron instead of you, Fred. Its from Charlie.” she said handing over the envelope and turning her heel back to her dorm.

“Charlie?” you asked, breaking free from George’s grip and sitting up.

Fred opened up the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. “Oi George. It’s for both of us.” smiled Fred and started to read the letter.

‘Dear Fred and George,

I really didn’t expect to get a letter from you so soon but I am sure the questions you asked me, weren’t yours.

Mom sent me a jumper, as usual, with a dragon shaped in a letter C. It really isn’t much to look at but I love it anyway. It was quite odd to get a letter from the two of you. The only reason you write to me is when you want to know about some special pranking monster, which I am not going to tell you about. Mom explained everything to me about George’s new girlfriend (y/n)…’

You grabbed George’s arm at the mentioning of your name. “That’s me!” you squeaked of excitment.

‘She also told me she is interested into magical creatures and I would love to answer every single one of her questions, but I can’t in this letter or you would be facing 5 to 8 scrolls. I can’t wait to meet (y/n) in person. 

Anyways I miss you guys and I can’t wait to see you at the Triwirzard tournament. Also say hi to Ron and Ginny for me.

Love, Charlie.’

After Fred finished reading the letter he looked at you. You were just about to expload of happiness. The fact that Charlie was Dragonologist and was elected to take Care of the Magical Creatures in his third year. Third year! It was your dream to become a Dragonologist just like him. “Oh my god. He wants to meet me!” you squeaked even higher than before. “Did you know he became a prefect in his fifth year and a Seeker on the Quidditch team. I mean of course you did, you guys are his brothers but still. Imagine having to deal with Care of Magical Creatures, Prefect duties and a Seeker on a Quidditch team.” you babled without even trying to catch some breath. You got on your feet. “Oh Merlin! I have to prepare myself for the meeting. I need to ask him about Romania, basically everything. And about Norbert! Oh and Merlin he is coming to a Triwizard tournament. How will I look!?” you yelled through the whole common room and ran upstairs.

Fred chuckled at your bubbliness and looked at George. He wasn’t to happy about this. You could see how tense he was or the fact, that he was staring at the empty cup for 5 minutes straight. “Looks like you have some competition coming and the funny thing is, its your nerd of a brother.” teased Fred.

“Charles? My competition? Pff? I’m not worried. Its not like they are going to start writing each other letters or something.” said George.

God, was he wrong.

—

Tuesday

You ran down the hall towards your favorite twins. You jumped from behind, wrapping an arm around each’ s shoulder. “Bloody hell (y/n). You want to give me a heart attack.” said Fred.

 You started giggling and jumping up and down fro all of the excitment. “Whats that in your hands?” asked George, pointing to three pieces of paper in your hand.

“This!” you started waving with the papers. “Are all his answers to my questions I asked in that letter. He sent me these like right now and I wanted to tell you first. You guys have the best brother in the world. I wish I had a cool brother like you.” you said jumping up and down.

“You have me.” said Fred, wiggling his eyevrows. 

“Wait.” said George seriously. “He wrote you letters?” 

“Yeah! And I am going to write him back, like right now! I need to ask him more about Norbert. Hagrid said he wants to know how he’s holding up.” you jumped and gave George a kiss on the cheek. You than looked at Fred and noticed how tense he was. “Fred. Why are you so tense?” you asked. “Loosen up a bit.” you added before walking away.

Only you didn’t tell Fred that and it wasn’t George that you kissed. They were both red in the face, but the only difference was Fred was blushing and George was fuming. “She never mixes us up! EVER!” yelled George.

“She is just excited George.” said Fred, trying to calm down George.

“She just kissed you! This is not okay! She is blinded by her obsession with my brother!” he yelled and ran off.

—

Wendsday

You were cuddling with your boyfriend in the Common room. Even though you were excited to meet Charlie, you weren’t thinking about him now. You were exhausted with your running around Hogwarts, especially since Snape sent you to get proffesor Sprout three times on the other side of the school. Three times! George on the other hand was finally relaxed. You didn’t talk about his nerdy brother or running around the common room searching for the perfect dress to wear. He enjoyed having you in his arms and smelling your amazing parfume. “I missed you.” he whispered in your ear.

You lifted your head to meet his gorgeous brown eyes looking back down on you. “Hows that love?”

“It’s just that with all of your -”

“George! What did you do to Crookshanks?!” yelled Hermoine, holding her cat in her arms.

“I have no clue what you are talking about?” said George.

“Don’t play daft! He’s green! Green!” yelled Hermoine.

“Green.”reasured George. “I didn’t do it.” he looked at her, trying to hide his grinn.

“Yes you did!” argued Hermoine.

“You have no proof.” said George.

Hermoine glowered at George and suddenly, out of nowhere, she relaxed. She calmed down, put Crookshanks on the ground and eyed you. “Yeah. You are right. I don’t have any proof. I shouldn’t have wasted my time blaming someone who didn’t do it. I need to do my Care of Magical Creatures homework anyway.” she said calmly. After she noticed Geroge immediately tensing up, a smirk appeared on her lips. “I heard Charlie is coming to Hogwarts. Are you excited (y/n). I heard he wanted to meet you.”

You quickly got up and sat over to Hermoine. “I can’t wait to meet him. He is everything I want to be when I grow up. Being a romanian Dragonologist. It must be an amazing job to have.” you started to talk, making George slowly sit up and glower at Hermonie.

“Its not that great actually. He always comes home with a new scar.” said George, trying to force a smile.

“Yes, George but that looks hot on a boy. Right (y/n)?” continued Hermoine.

“There must be loads of stories behind those scars.” you started babbling again. “It must be from the new dragons he brings back. Do you know how brave you must be to actually stand in front of a dragon? Do you think Norbert was like that when he arrived to Romania? Being seperated from  Hagrid, who was basically his mom....”

—

Thursday

“After Hermoine mentioned Charlie, it was like I didn’t exists. Hours of hours I tried to get her attention and it’s like I am talking to a wall.” complained George.

“Well, Georgie. I told you at the beggining you’ve got competition.” teased Fred. “I mean, maybe she’ll marry him instead of you.” he continued.

“Not helping Fred.” frowned George, stepping up his pace.

“Oh come on Georgie. Don’t pout over this. Remember when it will pass she will be all yours. Just don’t think about it too much.” said Fred.

“Thanks Fred. And I’m not thinking about it too much.” And just after they finished their conversation you appeared around the corner, filled with papers and with a big smile on your face. Merlin, did George love that smile. Your smile was everything to him. And your laugh. When he makes you laugh it’s like whole world stops for a moment and in that moment all he wants to do is be with you, hell, he even wants to marry you instantly that moment. “And what did make that beautiful smile appear on my gorgeous, geooorgeous girlfriend?” he said leaning down to kiss you. “You may notice I only said what and not who, because I am the only one who wants to make you smile like that.” he grinned.m not thinking

You were looking at your papers before looking up. “Oh. Hey love. I was just about to carry these papers to Hagrid. Something about Norbet. Charlie sent them to me, he knew I would deliver them. But I’ll see you later?” And with that you walked away.

George was furious. Not only you didn’t kiss him back but you were actually talking to his brother instead of him. For the second time! You never mix him up! And he wasn’t only fuming over you mixing him up with his brother, but he was angry at Charlie for sending you this kind of stuff. I mean he knows how much you love Magical Creatures but that was over the line. Fred noticed how his brother was getting redder and redder. “George?” he asked carefully.

“This happened the second time. Second! SHE NEVER DOES THAT! I AM GOING TO KILL CHARLIE!!” yelled George and bolted out.

“Sure you ain’t thinking about it too much.2 sighed Fred and walked after his brother.

—

Friday

George was in his room, scribbling down his letter to Charlie angrly. ‘I can’t believe he has more attention than me! I mean I am funny and I am good looking and he is a nerdy guy, who only cares about his dragons! He is making us drift apart. I don’t want to lose her to my own brother. Not like this, not to him!’ he thought, when he was scribbling down on the paper. Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around his neck, making him jump instantly. He stood up from his chair and looked at the person furiously. When he saw your shocked reaction he quickly calmed down. “Blimely (y/n). Don’t sneak up on me like that? What are you even doing here?”

You stepped back and looked at him. “ You love when I do that.” you smiled. “And what do you mean what am I doing here? This is my boyfriend’s dorm.Isn’t it?” you said approaching him again. 

“Really? Well where is he, because its definetly not me.” he said, his tone growing angrier.

You felt your heart stop for a minute. “What?” you said quietly. “George?” you continued, your voice starting to shake. You couldn’t say it, but you had to know. “Do-do you want to break up with me?”

After hearing those words he immediately calmed down. He saw your expression. Your eyes weren’t happy anymore, they were on the verge of crying. Your lips were, instead of your beautiful smile, turned into a frown and slightly shaking.What has he done? “What? No, of course not!” he said coming closer to you but you backed away.

“Than tell me what’s wrong?” you asked him, feeling a bit mad.

He didn’t reply. To be honest he didn’t know how to say the right thing at this moment. You looked at his hands, which were red and covered in ink. You looked down at his table to see a terrible handwriting on a piece of paper and more than four crumbled balls of paper next to it. You looked at George and pointed to his table.

“What is this?” you asked him.

“It’s a letter.” he replied.

“I know what it is, George. Why are you writing to Charlie about me?” you asked furiously. He didn’t move a centimeter. He just stood there, looking at you and feeling guilty. You approached him step by step and when you were close enough, you cuped his chin. “ I need to know what’s happening with my boyfriend, George. I can’t do that if he doesn’t talk.” you said, your voice suddenly turning soft and caring.

He slowly ran his hands from your shoulders to your hands. He gently removed them from his cheeks and brushed his thumb on the back of your hand. He couldn’t even look at you when he spoke. He still felt angry at himself for snapping at you like that. I mean all you did was follow your dreams to be a Dragonologist and he was not even a bit supportive of that. “I just haven’t felt like your boyfriend for the past week. ”

“What do you mean?” you perplexed.

I mean you knew you were busy this week about Charlie and all, but you couldn’t have been that bad of a girlfriend this week. Could you? “ I feel like I’ve been losing you.” he said quietly, still not removing his eyes from your hands. “ And the worst part is, that it was to my nerd of a brother.”

“Who? Charlie?” you said shockingly and feet a big rock roll off your chest. You couldn’t believe what he was worried about. But now that you think about it you really were acting like a total geek for dragons and Charlie this whole week.

“Yeah. Ever since you found out about him coming here its like I don’t exist. He’s got all the attention, day after day and I just couldn’t tell you because it’s your dream to become a Dragonologist. And I….” he took a deep sigh after he realized what he has been angry about. “…I have no clue about dragons or how to get you there. And the fact that you get along with Charlie more than me, I don’t know. I felt kind of jealus.”

After hearing that, you lifted his chin and smiled. “George Weasley… You are the stupidest kind of idiot I have ever met.” His eyes quickly jumped to meet yours. “ You have been the best boyfriend any girl could ask for. You have been supporting of my dreams since day one. You have nothing to be jealous about. Jealus of Charlie? Yes, he is a great guy. But you are funnier…” a smile appeared on his lips. “Braver…” you gave him a soft kiss on the lips. You looked at him to see his smile turn into a wide grinn. “Loving…” you said runing your fingers through his gorgeous ginger hair and giving him another kiss. His eyes narrowed down a bit and his hands slowly lowering themselfs down your waist.

“What else?” he asked, kissing your neck.

“Well you are definetly sexier.” you continued. You felt his lips slowly brushing against your jaw. Merlin, his touch turned you on. You gripped his hair a bit tighter, kissing him passionately. His tounge played with yours, making the moment perfect to the mood. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he cupped your butt. Not breaking your kiss he walked over to his bed and slowly layed you on it. As he moved his lips back to your neck, down to your collarbone, Fred walked in with a bag of chips in his hand. “Oh, Merlin!” he yelled putting up his hand to block the view. George stopped only to laugh to his brother walking in on you. “Dammit George. Couldn’t wait till tomorrow, when I’m leaving with Lee to Hogsmeade.”

Both you and George laughed and sat up on the end of the bed. Fred put down his hand and started to eat his chips. “Sorry Freddie, should have put a sock on the handle.” said George.

“Yes you should have.” said Fred, putting his hand down and leaning on the door. “So...I see you fixed the Charlie problem.” he grinned and continued to eat his chips. “I mean thank god. Being George for another day is exhausting. It’s like being me, but uglier.” he teased and left the room.

You looked at George confused, ignoring Fred’s last sentance. “What does he mean, being George for another day?”

George felt a bit awkward telling you this, but you did need to know. “You…um….you kind of mixed Fred and me up on Tuesday and Thursday. ”

You couldn’t believe it. You thought he was joking. “Yeah sure. I never mix the two of you up.” you said confidently, but seeing George’s expression you felt that confidence slide away. “No?” you said shockingly. “Twice?” you asked him, if you heard him correctly and he nodded. “Oh my god.” you sighed, leaning your forehead on his chest and smelling his cologne. “I am a terrible girlfriend.” you said, feeling guilty and burriying your face into his shirt.

He chuckled, wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head “ I love you, (y/n).”

[besidemethewholedamntime]

Hello again! ♥ I saw that video with the borking pup (so adorable!!) and thought if you are up for a prompt, could you maybe write a fic where Fitzsimmons adopt/rescue a puppy?? Some sort of stress relief for both of them :) thank you! ♥

here is it finally for you! I hope you like it and it’s everything you want - if it’s not okay please let me know and I’ll write something else!

(Okay, I know the start seems angsty but I promise it’s fluffy Fitzsimmons with a dog, I just find beginnings hard!)

—

Introducing Biscuit

(Read it here on Ao3) 

They haven’t been in their new house long when shebrings it up.

It’s quite a sudden longing, perhaps something to dowith just how empty their new houseappears to be with its seemingly endless corridors and bedrooms that theyaren’t quite ready to fill. It’s a longing that keeps her up at night, stomachaching with something that feels like ungratefulness. The guilt eats her alive,keeps her awake into the wee hours of the morning. How can this not be enough?How can simply being here, with Fitz, not be enough for her?

And maybe it’s because she got that glimpse atmotherhood, got a slither of what she could have in the future, that means shewill no longer be satisfied at anything other than that anymore. But theyaren’t ready, not yet. Too much has happened to simply let them dive into theidyllic quaint country life they have penned in for some date in the future.They agreed to take things in steps, and step one was quite simply just movingin.

That was over a month ago, now, and, ever restless,Jemma feels ready to take another one. Which is why, on one sunny as Scotlandcan be June morning, she awakes earlier than normal and makes breakfast beforecarrying it to Fitz in bed.

“Jemma?” He groans when she gently shakes him awakeHis hair is sticking out at odd angles and there are pillow marks on one sideof his face, clearly the mark of a good night’s sleep. Rubbing his eyes, hesits up. “What’s this for?” He narrows his eyes. “What do you want?”

“What? Me? Why would I want anything? Don’t beridiculous. Can’t a wife just make her husband breakfast in bed to be nice?”

Fitz narrows his eyes even more. “Maybe other wives can, but you certainly don’t. Notwithout good reason anyway.”

She gently angles the plate closer to him, hoping thescent of pancakes will distract him. “I’m just being nice. Celebrating the factthat we can have breakfast in bed without the possibility of the world endingin the next five minutes.”

Perhaps that was too low of her to go, because hiseyes soften and he places a hand over hers and oh there’s a familiar sting of tears at the back of her eyes. Themood was meant to be light but now it’s like the clouds have blocked the sunand she’s done with living in the dark.

Coughing, and then smiling, Jemma says, “Well,actually, there was something…”

“Bloody knew it.” Fitz’s triumphant grin parts the cloudsonce more.

Ignoring him, she continues, “How would you feel aboutgetting a dog?”

He looks at her curiously, as if he can’t decide ifshe’s serious or not. “As in a pet or as in one for you to ‘dissect’ for‘science’.” He actually adds in the air quotes, his cheeky grin suggesting he’swaiting for her to bite.

She doesn’t and sighs, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, Fitz,of course I mean a pet.”

“Just making sure. Remember the last time we had a‘pet’.”

“For the last time: it was delivered to the lab likethat!”

“Sure it was, Jemma. Sure it was.”

Throwing her hands up at the age-old argument, shefixes him with a withering look. “We did not kill the cat, Fitz.” A deep breathand a smile. “But anyway, back to the question. How would you feel aboutgetting a dog as a pet?”

“I think that would be a great idea. I’ve alwayswanted a dog, and we’ve definitely got the space for it.” Fitz makes histhinking face whilst chewing on a pancake. “Puppy or rescue?”

“Rescue,” Jemma answers immediately. “I mean it seemsthe right thing to do, doesn’t it?”

He smiles that soft smile that appears to be reservedonly for her. “Absolutely.”

-x-

They spend the hour and a half drive to DogsTrustarguing about what type of dog they’d like to get.

Jemma, balancing several folders on her knee, argues,“I’m just saying I don’t think we necessarily have size limitations if we takeinto account the size of the house, and the land we have is ample enough forexercise.”

Fitz takes his eyes from the road long enough to giveher a look of disbelief. “And all I’m saying is that we have to think of thecosts involved for a larger dog.”

“The adoption fee is £120 regardless of the size ofdog.”

“Yeah, I know that. I meant bigger dog means morefood, bigger bed, some kennels make you pay more for a larger dog. I mean whatif we wanted to go on holiday.”

“We’d figure it out, Fitz.”

He shoots her a short, worried glance. “Well thatdoesn’t sound like the Jemma Simmons I know.”

“Jemma FitzSimmons,actually,” she corrects, ignoring his actual statement.

The thing is, she did construct a cost analysis basedon each potential type of dog they could adopt. She looked at the spreadsheetsand compared them to all of her research on owning a dog and then never lookedat them again. It was one thing to be prepared, it was another thing to try andfit the dog they didn’t even own yet into her own preconceived idea of what itmight be like.

And with all of this starting over, maybe it’s time totry being someone new.

All of a sudden, they’re here and as Jemma looks atthe bright yellow sign and the unassuming building, she feels a nervoustightening in her gut.

Fitz parks up and reaches over to hold her hand.They’ve been in some truly frightening life or death scenarios, and yet this,this level of commitment that they’ve only ever had for each other, seems moreterrifying than anything.

“Well, Jemma Fitzsimmons, let’s go get a dog.”

-x-

“And this is Biscuit,” the volunteer announces,stopping in front of the last glass-fronted kennel in the row.

Jemma doesn’t see her at first, curled as she isamongst the blankets in her bed. When she notices people outside her kennel,she uncurls and runs up towards the door, tail wagging getting progressively fasteruntil it’s really just a white blur.

“Aww, she’s cute,” Fitz smiles, kneeling down on thefloor and talking nonsense to the dog who laps it up.

Jemma has to agree, Biscuit is very adorable. The signon her kennel door proclaims that she’s a Jack Russel and that she’s a year oldand that she likes sleeping and treats and dislikes loud noises. She’scompletely white expect for her ears which are a caramel colour, making themlook as though they’ve been stuck on. Jemma can’t help it, she laughs out loud.

Fitz turns around from his spot on the floor, asseemingly happy as the dog he’s been chatting up.  It’s been a while since Jemma’s seen him thishappy, this seemingly carefree. Biscuit has done more for him in two minutesthan she’s been able to do in a month and Jemma’s not even jealous. In fact,she’s rather relieved.

“Biscuit’s taken quite a shine to you there, Mr Fitz,”the volunteer laughs. “Can I assume that you’re both about to ask me to signsome paperwork?”

Jemma brings out her folder from her handbag. There’squestions in here, questions that she thought she needed to have answered toknow that whatever dog would be the right fit for them. She thought she’d needto know why the dog was given up, what were the pervious owners like, how werethey fed, did they like a certain type of lead to be walked on or a certainbowl to eat from. She thought she’d need to know everything in order to helprescue a dog that would become part of their family.

She was wrong. She doesn’t need to know anything of thekind. All she needs to know can be seen in the brightness of Fitz’s smile, thejoy in his voice as he calls Biscuit a smart girl.

Slowly, Jemma slides the folder back into her bag andsmiles to the volunteer.

“Yes, I think that was exactly what I was about todo.”

-x-

They’re sittingin the living room after dinner, mindlessly watching television in a way that’sbecome quite enjoyable. Jemma is researching how to take care of Jack RusselTerriers, and Fitz is doodling designs for a dog crate that’s sturdy butportable.

“Should we change her name?”

Jemma, not really paying attention because she’sengrossed in this article on positive reinforcement training, asks, “Changewhose name?”

“Biscuit’s name. Should we change it?”

She looks up from her laptop and over to Fitz whosepen is paused in mid-air as if the thought has just burst into his brain. Hisexpression of confusion, she imagines, mirrors hers.

“Oh, I don’t know. I know you can change a dog’s nameand it’s relatively easy.”

“Yeah,” he muses, “thought that. I know you can do it,just don’t know if we should.”

This all seems to be getting very deep for a talkabout whether or not to change the name of their new dog. Jemma cocks her headand opens and closes her mouth a few times, doing a remarkable impression of agoldfish. What does she say in this situation? What does she do?

To her utter relief Fitz laughs. “Relax, Jemma. It’sjust about the dog. I promise.”

Ohthank goodness but she doesn’t say that aloud, onlysmiles. “Well, about the dog. I don’t know, I suppose I quite like the nameBiscuit. It’s rather cute, I think.”

“Yeah, it suits her, doesn’t it? And it’s a food. Ilove food.”

Jemma snorts. “You certainly love biscuits.”

“Oh, did you get those Hobnobs ‘cause they were onoffer at Tesco and-”

The odd tangent makes her laugh because it’s so randomand so expected at the same time. “Yes, Fitz. I got you Hobnobs. Both types.”

“You’re the best.” But then his eyes take on that faraway look. “Biscuit Fitzsimmons.” He grins at her. “What do you think?”

There’s a relief deep down in her heart that surelyjust can’t be because their new addition is going to be named after one of hisfavourite foods. “It sounds absolutely perfect.”

-x-

Two weeks after their first visit, and after a homevisit and registering with a vet, finally they are able to pick up their latestaddition.

While Jemma is paying, they bring out Biscuit who runsto Fitz as if she’s seeing her best-friend after an age. Or she tries to run to Fitz – the volunteer hasher on the standard DogsTrust harness and lead and it prohibits Biscuit fromrunning to Fitz as fast as she clearly would have liked.

“Biscuit, heel.” The volunteer commands in a clippedtone and the dog begrudgingly returns to her side. The woman gives Biscuit atreat and then smiles at the both of them. “You’re the Fitzsimmonses here forBiscuit, right?” The dog barks as in agreement and the volunteer laughs.“Clearly I didn’t even need to ask the two of you; this girl’s already made upher mind who she’s going home with.”

“She has that,” Fitz affirms. “So that’s it then? Wecan just take her home now?”

“Yup, you can. Here’s a bag of her stuff from her oldhome, along with things she’s managed to acquire here.” The volunteer handsthem a carrier bag. “You have your folder, right?”

“Yup,” Jemma says, holding out the adoption folder shewas given. “We need to give these details to her new vet.”

“That’s right.” The volunteer hands the lead to Fitz.“Well I suppose it’s time to say goodbye then, girl, isn’t it?” She rubs Biscuit’shead affectionately and then smiles at them once more. “Enjoy your new dog! Anyproblems and please phone us if you have any issues at all.” She glances towhere Fitz has picked up Biscuit who is now licking his face. “Though I feellike you’ll be absolutely fine.”

Jemma thanks her and turns to her husband and her dog,feeling rather like a third wheel on their private moment.

“Well then, I suppose it’s time to go home.”

Biscuit’s ears perk up and Jemma laughs.

“Yes, you’re coming home with us.” She rubs Biscuit’shead and the dog begins to lick her hand in a way that seems to suggest she’seager for Jemma to know that she’s loved too.

The volunteer appears to be right so far. Absolutelyfine.

-x-

The first night cannot exactly be described as ‘absolutelyfine’.

As eager to come home with them as she was, Biscuitappears to have acquired some ‘leaving kennel’ anxiety.

Jemma knew about this. She read about this andprepared for it by setting up Biscuit’s crate in the living room with the TV onlow volume so the poor puppy wouldn’t be in total silence in her first nightalone. She knew that the dog might whine and cry. It just doesn’t make it anyeasier to listen too.

It’s two in the morning and they’re both awake, bothcompletely not enjoying the howls of poor little Biscuit coming up fromdownstairs.

“Jemma,” Fitz whispers, “are you awake?”

“Yes,” she whispers back. “It’s such a shame; I wishthere was something we could do.”

“Are you sure we couldn’t…?”

“You know we can’t, Fitz. All of the websites wereclear on this,” she says, putting to rest once again a question that’s alreadypopped up three times in the period since they’ve left Biscuit on her own.

“I know but she sounds so sad.”

“It’s better for her in the long run.” Jemma wonderswho she’s trying to convince here.

Eventually, she falls asleep, more out of sheerexhaustion than any immunity against the pitiful cries. But a few hours laterthey awaken her again. Fitz is sleeping beside her, clearly having succumbed tosleep the same way as her.

As stealthily as possible, she swings out of bed andtiptoes downstairs. Biscuit, hearing a noise, ramps up the howling.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s just me,” Jemma soothes,coming into the room. Biscuit is at the door of her crate, tail wagging madly atthe familiar person. When Jemma opens the door, she rushes at her, nuzzlinginto her and making soft noises.

“Oh dear, what a state you’ve gotten yourself into,”Jemma murmurs, feeling the dog quiver beneath her fingers. She sighs, knowingthere’s really only one option for the night.

“Fine,” she relents. “Come on. You can come and sleepin our room. But only for tonight.”

And gathering the dog in her arms, along with some ofher blankets from the kennel, she brings her upstairs and arranges her on ablanket and pillows on the floor at the foot of their bed.

“I’m sorry but I do draw the line at you sleeping onthe bed.”

Finally, Jemma is able to have a blissful sleepunaccompanied by a soundtrack of cries.

In the morning she awakes to a strange weight in themiddle of her and Fitz and finds Biscuit curled up asleep with one of her blankets,snoring softly.

-x-

This little dog in such a short space of time becomes everythingto them.

The house never feels empty, not anymore, becauseBiscuit loves exploring almost everywhere she can get into. She loves toexplore the surrounding fields, is especially a fan of the river that bisectsthe woods nearby. It turns out she loves the rain (which is just as well,really, because this is Perth and it’s wet even on sunny days) and jumps inmuddy puddles whenever she can.

But this little dog makes Fitz smile more carefreethan he has in years, He laughs with her, plays fetch and looks back to Jemmaas bright as the sun. This little dog brings out a side in him that she had fearedhad been lost to him forever. A side she thinks he was afraid he’d lostforever.

Biscuit is by all intents and purposes a ‘rescue dog’.All of her records now say that she is. Except Jemma knows that it wasn’t them whorescued Biscuit.

As she launches aball across a field and watches as Fitz races the dog to retrieve it, she knowswithout a doubt that it was really Biscuit who rescued them.