#i can't believe this is my first piece of 2024

[myaphelionart]

mr stretch and mr spots

[sailoryooons]

Red | KNJ | (m)

☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Namjoon x f. reader

☾ Summary: For as long as you can remember, your village has been relatively normal. But when people begin to turn up dead right after a group of newcomers arrive, pieces of your past start to fall into place, and something feels familiar - particularly the quiet man who can't take his eyes off of you.

☾ Word Count: 21,148

☾ Genre: Supernatural, thriller, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Fantasy violence, light depections of murder and animal attacks, mentions of gore, discussions about community displacement and violence, Yoongi is an asshole, animal attacks, depictions of blood, tbh reader and Namjoon don’t know each other THAT well when they fuck so idk, implied protecting from a far but not in a stalker way, explicit language, intense sequences of fear and anxiety, reader is attacked by a wolf, there is a mention of animals being hurt/killed but not in explicit details, dead bodies, arson, sexually explicit content invluding vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, a little bit of mention of fluids but not really. 

☾ Published: Sunday, January 21 2024

☾ A/N: I wish I could explain to you how this got to be so long. I wrote it over several weeks and each day I picked it back up, I just kept adding dialogue and scenery and setting. Like half of this isn’t even Namjoon and reader reacting - what was I doing? I wish I knew! I hope you like my spin on Red Riding Hood anyway! I tried to do this in a way that it doesn’t seem creepy that Namjoon was silently looking out for reader but like… I could understand if someone finds it creepy I am so sorry lmfao.  I did read through this to edit but I 100% missed stuff because I'm a rougher editor and this is unbeta'd.

☾ A/N 2: This is a Red Riding Hood Retelling that is similar in vibe to the 2011 Red Riding Hood movie directed by Catherine Hardwicke.

 Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Father always said not to go into the woods at night. Like him, though, the woods have always called to you, feeling like a second home. You’ve never been able to explain it, and you’ve stopped trying to. 

It’s a little chilly outside, the first breath of harvest air nipping at your skin. In a few weeks, it will be freezing outside, forcing you into cloaks and furs. 

Grass crunches beneath your feet as you slip through the small yard and toward the tree line. Your house already sits at the edge of the village, the dark trees stretching high above the rooftops. Soon the trees will be dusted in snow, but for now, they sway gently in the autumn breeze, turned silver by the moonlight. 

You’ve always loved the woods. The sounds of the crickets singing and rabbits dashing underfoot are calming, the smell of sticky pine and fresh air invigorating. You especially love them at night, hidden beneath boughs and walking through the shafts of moonlight that slip through the trees. 

The best part is that you don’t feel so alone out here. There is a feeling you cannot place each time you enter the woods, like you’re a little closer to discovering yourself. You’ve been chasing that feeling since you were a little girl, hungry for finding whatever it is that drives you out here. 

Hands tucked into your pockets, you walk the same route you always follow. It isn’t deep into the woods - you aren’t silly enough to believe you’re safe alone in the dark - but it’s enough of a walk to clear your head. 

Howls echo up into the night, a wolf pack on their hunt. The sound of them makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

The wolves don’t come very close to the village anymore since the vicious wolf hunts when you were barely old enough to remember them. The relationship between the men of your home and the wolves in the wood is violent, a chill cooling your skin every time they’re mentioned by one of your neighbors. 

A terrible howl splits the night. You feel your body go cold with fear, warmth leaching out of you as you press yourself against a tree, heart in your throat. The sound is something like a howl laced with utter anguish, chilling you down to the marrow. It tapers off into a whimper before falling silent again. 

Pressed against the tree, you wait. Your heart is beating so harshly that it feels like you might vomit in fear. Soft whimpering drifts on the wind. You hold your breath and strain your ears. It almost sounds like an injured dog.

It tugs at your heartstrings. You bite your lip, weighing your options. The noise sounded like it came from the south a little off of your path and toward the ravine that splits the part of the woods that is relatively safe from the deeper part where the animals are more lethal and more frequent. You could easily find your way back if you made it to the ravine, and as the whimpering vanishes entirely, you can’t help but imagine an animal in pain. 

The most difficult part about working with Dr. Kim at the veterinary clinic is always the animals that he can’t fix. You’ve held the hands of loved ones who couldn’t save their aging dogs, and you’ve hushed lame horses as Dr. Kim prepared draughts to send them to sleep and then to death. 

Pivoting, you turn and march toward the initial sound. It may perhaps be the single worst idea you’ve ever had, but you suddenly don’t care. You’ve worked with Dr. Kim enough to know how to triage animal wounds, and the thought of leaving something alone and suffering replaces any sort of fear you originally had. 

You’re careful not to lose your footing as the ground slopes steadily as you get closer to the ravines and canyons of the south side. Leaves shift underneath your feet as you go. It feels overly loud in a forest that is suddenly so quiet, only filled with the softest sound of labored breathing.

A small dip in the ground catches you off guard. You gasp, a scream stuck in your throat as you lose your footing and slide down the slope, your back and ass hitting the ground hard as you slide, leaves hissing underneath you. You scramble to grab a hold of something, but the hill isn’t very high and you hit the bottom of it quickly.

Heart pounding, you lay in the damp leaves for a second, panting, hand pressed to your heart as it rattles under your palm. Just as the fear settles down, a growl makes your blood run cold. Slowly, you begin to turn your face toward the left. You realize you’ve slid down a dell, and a few yards from you is a large, shivering form covered in fur.

You blink. Once. Twice. You realize that the large mound of fur is a creature - a wolf. It lays on the ground shaking, a ride of jet black hair standing up on its spine, hackles raised. The wolf’s ears are pinned back and its yellow eyes are wild, nearly consumed by the dark pupils drinking you in. Its teeth are bared, foam and drool lining pink gums as it snares, nose twitching. 

It’s the biggest wolf you’ve ever seen. You can’t move. You can only stare at it, wondering why it continues to snarl and stare at you, but not move. Your eyes rove its trembling form from maw to tail, and you realize its front leg is wet and held at an odd angle.

“Oh,” you gasp, realizing that the wolf’s foot is stuck in a claw trap. “I’m so sorry. I… can I help you?”

The wolf stops growling for a moment as if it understands. You stare with wide eyes, not daring to move as it assesses you. It leans toward you and sniffs, the sound of snuffing loud in the silence of the dell. For a few moments, you just watch as the beast regards you. 

Then, it chuffs and looks at its own foot, whining. You sit up slowly in amazement. The creature watches you with what you can only describe as a caution. You get up carefully and make your way toward the wolf. It watches your every movement. It can surely smell your fear as you get a few feet away, crouching down with your hands held out to let it know you’re not going to cause harm. 

You pause, waiting for permission to examine the wolf’s foot. It gazes at you and for a moment, you lose yourself in that burning, golden gaze. The wolf’s eyes are so human that it’s hard to see it as a simple beast. There is something alive and intelligent there.

As if sensing that you’re waiting for the all-clear, the wolf chuffs and lowers its head toward its foot, gesturing. You smile a little at that, marveling at the communication skills. Carefully, you look at the trap around the wolf’s foot. It’s a metal contraption that is pressure-engaged, with metal teeth. You cringe seeing the red on matted fur and metal.

“You must have stepped on the pressure plate,” you tell the wolf, though it probably doesn’t understand. You gesture to the round plate at the center of the trap. “It would have been in a circle and when stepped on, snapped closed like jaws.”

The wolf whines and bows its head. You wince. “They’re really strong,” you admit, chewing on your lip. “I don’t think I can pull it apart all the way, but I might be able to open it enough just for a moment for you to pull out your leg. Can you do that?” 

A huff. Somehow, you think if it could, the wolf might roll its eyes. Your mouth twitches in an almost smile as you get onto your knees, wiping sweaty hands on your pants. This close to the beast, you realize just how large it is. 

“This is going to hurt,” you insist. “Please… Please don’t bite me, okay? I want to help you.” 

The wolf lowers its head until it's lying on the ground, gold eyes watching you. Its muscles are tense and the hair along the ridge of its back is still standing, afraid and alert. 

“Okay. I’m just… I’m just going to touch the trap and try to get a grip first, okay?” The wolf doesn’t answer. It blinks at you, waiting. Licking your lips, you whisper, more to yourself than anything, “Okay, I can do this.”

Slowly, you reach out toward the wolf’s injured foot. You flick your gaze over to the wolf looking for a reaction. It just watches you, though you feel tension. The metal is wicked cold to the touch. You hiss and the creature flinches a little, a whistle-whine escaping its nose. You mutter an apology, fingers pressing to the ridges of the cold metal. 

It’s slippery with blood. You chew on your lip, prodding your finger in the space between the metal teeth on the edges where it’s not clamped around the wolf’s paw. You wiggle your finger a little, testing the strength of the closed jaws of the trap. It doesn’t budge and you curse. 

Sweat beads on the back of your neck, freezing in the cool air. You lift your other hand, very carefully trying to find a good grip on either side of the jaws to pry them open. The movement jostles the trap a little, the wolf snarling in pain. You flinch and rip your hands away, looking at it. Gold eyes burn and the wolf huffs, as though telling you to be more careful.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “I’m nervous and it’s hard to get a grip on it.” The wolf snorts. You glare at it. “I’m sorry, do you want to do this instead?” Your only answer is a rumble as it looks the other direction. “That’s what I thought.”

Sighing, you turn your attention back to the metal. Anyone a little stronger and older could probably pull it open. Seokjin for sure could - even Hoseok who is as old as you are, but plenty stronger. You try not to think about how weak you are, and instead wiggle your fingers through the gaps in the teeth.

The cool metal stings your hands. It’s not a great grip and your fingers are placed in bad positioning due to the teeth of the trap. Taking in a big breath, you try to pull the metal jaws apart. 

Nothing happens and you let your breath out, panting lightly as you stop trying to pull. The wolf flicks its tale but makes no other sound. With the way you’re gripping the jaws, you realize that pulling it apart is going to be difficult. It would rely on your forearms to peel the metal jaws backward… But if you were to push down and push apart, you could use your body weight as an extra boost. It would be pushing the jaws apart from above instead of trying to pry them apart with sheer strength.

Leaning high on your knees, you position yourself straight over the trap, your weight settling in on your forearms. You take another deep breath and this time when you pull, you push your weight down on the trap. For a second, it seems like it’s not going to give. You hiss through your teeth, muscles clenching, fingers burning as your skin presses against the metal as hard as you can stand it.

Then, the jaw opens a little. You grind your teeth harder, the ache in your arms growing as you push as hard as you can. Your forearms are trembling. You feel the vein throbbing in your neck and forehead. Just when you think you’re going to fail, the jaws give way again. You growl, feeling a surge of energy go through you at the small victory and you shove your body weight down on it hard. The springs creak a little and open more.

Little by little, the trap opens up. Your vision pulses red as you pant, strength waning. And then it’s like you hit the let-off point of the contraption, pushing it enough that the rest of the way it just falls open. You let go of the trap and the wolf yanks its leg from it. It now lies open and bloody as you collapse on the ground next to it, breathing hard, breath misting the air. 

Your heart beats in your ears, pulse thrumming in your neck wildly. For a second, you forget all about the wolf. You laugh up to the dark trees, a giddy feeling shooting through you. You did it, even though you didn’t think you would be able to. 

A dark presence alerts you. Slowly, you turn your head to face the wolf. It’s standing almost above you, looking more imposing than it did before. You swallow hard, mouth going dry as it blinks down at you. It favors the injured leg, but stands nonetheless, watching you. 

“Please don’t kill me,” you whisper, limbs trembling not only with exhaustion but fear. 

The wolf doesn’t kill you at all. Instead, it leans its head down and presses its cold, wet nose to your arm. You flinch, squeezing your eyes shut for a minute. Then the beast chuffs, making you peak at it. When you meet its gold eyes, you get the sense it is vaguely amused.

“Oh,” you breathe, relief sagging your aching body. “Cool. You’re not going to kill me.”

Standing, you realize that the wolf is still taller than you. You tilt your head upward, staring. There’s no way this is a normal creature, but you don’t know what else it could possibly be. You recall the legends of werewolves and dire wolves told by the men of your town, but you’re unsure if those are real. 

“Let’s take care of this,” you mutter, grabbing a branch and jamming it into the pressure plate of the trap. It snaps shut with a loud clang, snapping the branch, but otherwise ineffective now that it’s re-sprung. The wolf flinches and whines at the sound, no doubt remembering the feeling of the instrument on its leg. “Sorry.” 

Silence stretches out over the woods, the night growing deeper and cooler. You shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you turn to the wolf, which watches you keenly. 

“Will you be okay?” the question comes out as a whisper. The wolf huffs and steps forward, pressing its snout to your head. It’s cold and wet, making you shiver as it snuffs against your skin. “Good. I um - should start climbing this hill.”

It swivels its head and turns, waiting. You grin, realizing it will accompany you back up, at least. Though injured, the wolf is able to walk with three legs, the wounded leg lifted off the ground. Its gait is awkward and hobbled, but the two of you make it up the hill together, your breathing labored. 

At the top, moonlight shines through the trees and you both pause. A series of howls goes up in the night, startling you. The wolf looks up, ears twitching as it tilts its head, listening. Slowly, it turns to look at you, gold eyes sparkling. 

“I guess you have to go, huh?” it bows its head once. “Stay safe, okay?” 

The wolf steps forward. Presses its muzzle into your temple and huffs, making you grin. You smell pine and bergamot, pleasant and calming. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” 

Slowly, the wolf clambours off, vanishing into the dark woods, leaving you to hurry home yourself. 

-

“Wear this at all times for protection, especially in the forest,” you murmur, holding the neatly scrawled note. You frown and look down at the fine cloak folded on the dresser. It had appeared overnight as if by magic, a funny feeling flipping your stomach. “Where did you come from?”

The cloak, of course, has no answer. You lift your hand to feel it, breathing out a dreamy sigh. The inside is lined with soft bear fur. Outside is some of the finest cloth you’ve ever seen, gentle but sturdy to the touch and dyed the most delicious shade of scarlet. 

Carefully, you lift the cloak. It’s a little big for your size, but not unwearable. You slip it over your sleeping gown, loving the way the material ripples like blood over your shoulders, the fur lining keeping you warm. It smells like pine and bergamot, making you pause. 

Certainly, a wolf did not bring you a cloak. Still, the timing is quite odd. You don’t know who else could possibly make a cloak so fine in the village, and the smell… you shake your head. A wolf did not bring you a cloak, but it did seem perhaps you had a secret admirer. 

-

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

“Boo!” You scream and drop the collection of logs in your hands, whirling around. Hoseok bursts into laughter, doubling over as he slaps his hands against his knees, hot breath misting the air. “You should see your face!”

“You rotten bastard!” You growl, picking up a log and throwing it at him. It doesn’t hit him, but he jumps away from it anyway, careful not to let it drop on his toes. “That isn’t funny!”

“It’s a little funny.”

“It’s not!” You crouch down and start picking up the timber. Hoseok at least has the decency to help you, starting with the log you threw at him. “There was another animal attack last night, in case you didn’t know.” 

That makes him pause. “There was?”

“Yes,” you hiss, snatching the last log and standing. “So stop lurking around corners and scaring me. It isn’t funny.” 

“Well, an animal isn’t going to attack you in the village. Unless you’re talking about Mingyu’s fiancee, anyway. That one is feral indeed.” 

You level Hoseok with a look and he gives you a grin. His nose and ears are red from the cold - and maybe a little guilt for scaring you - and he offers to take the timber from your arms. You let him, shoveling it over to him and marching around the front of your house. 

Wind howls between the houses, ripping at the ends of your red cloak. It catches your hood, throwing it up over your head as you shiver and tuck your hands into the fur lining. A shiver rattles up your spine as you kick the snow from your boots and rush inside, Hoseok quick on your heels. 

“So what happened?” Hoseok asks, following you to your room. 

“The Matheson Family,” you mumble. “They were attacked. San went down to collect new saddles his father ordered and found them slaughtered - their hounds too.” 

“They have hunting hounds - what the hell can kill those?”

“Perhaps it’s the wolves again. Dr. Kim was going with the city council to investigate.” 

Hoseok sighs. “The timing isn’t good. It’s about time the traders arrived. What if they bypass us entirely if the road is too dangerous?”

It’s a thought that has been plaguing everyone in the village. Because of the remote location on the north side of the woods, your small spec on the map relies on traders at the beginning of every winter for things that you’ll need to make it through: salt, extra grain and fruits, tools too advanced and large for the local smithy, repairs on houses and wagons. 

Arrival times of traders fluctuate every year. Sometimes there’s a cold snap, burying roads in heavy snow that are unnavigable. Other times, there is unrest in the woods when a rogue band of thieves gets the idea to rob travelers and hide in the woods until the city council sends a team of men to deal with it. 

Now, though, it’s getting into the late period of their arrival. The entire village holds its breath waiting for them, people looking out the open gates down the snowy road hoping to see a courier come ahead to announce the arrival of wagons and troupes of people. 

“Do you really think it’s wolves?” Hoseok asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard of wolf attacks like this since…” 

Hoseok winces. “It’s fine,” you assure him with a smile. “It’s not like I remember that time, much less remember my dad.” 

It’s true. Early memories of your childhood are murky at best. You remember being happy and loving your dad. You remember a period of fear and general uneasiness in the town, wolf attacks rampant and frequent. There had been plenty of men and women who died during that period, including your father.

That was a long time ago, though. For the most part, life in your small village is uninteresting. Some winters are harder than others, like the current season, but you’ve always managed to get by. 

“Do you remember much of that time period?” you ask him quietly. 

“Not really. Just that everyone was afraid. It was a really harsh winter and it drove wolves down from the mountains. I remember it being strange.”

“Strange how?” 

You chew your lip and shake your head, trying to encapsulate the thread of memory you have. Of feeling the tremor of fear in the air, the cold feeling of dread… like something violent was in the village. Something wrong.

“I don’t know. I was so young.”

“Hmm.” 

The talk of wolves makes you think about your wolf. Your lips curve at the memory of how gentle the wolf was, the somber eyes, and the smell of pine and bergamot. 

It would be a lie to say you had not gone out to the woods several times since that night to try and find the beast again. You haven’t seen him since, but you’ve always had a feeling he’s there somewhere. Watching. Waiting. 

“Either way,” Hoseok sighs. “Dad seems worried this winter will be like that time. He’s been doing a lot of will and testament papers at the office. He works late every night and is gone early in the morning.” 

“Really?”

“Want to hear what Mr. Hillshire is leaving for his kids?” Hoseok leans forward, conspiratorial. “You won’t believe it.” 

-

The bell over the door rings as someone enters the salon of Dr. Kim’s veterinary practice, drawing your attention. You straighten when you see San walk in.

“Hi, San,” you greet. “Here to pick up Maple?” 

“Yeah, is that alright? Mom is busy at the shop.” 

“Of course.” You wipe your sweaty hands on your skirts and gesture behind you with your thumb. “I’ll go fetch her. Dr. Kim is on an errand but she’s ready to go.” 

The back of the building with the kennels is quiet. The Choi family cat and two other sleeping dogs are the only occupants of the practice, making it an easy day. Maple is dozing in her kennel, chirping in protest when you open the cage and scoop her into a carrier. She’s a lazy thing, a calico with pretty eyes and a newly stitched ear. 

Carefully you carry her up front. San is standing patiently in the lobby, hands behind his back as he looks around nervously. You raise your brows as you come around the counter, handing over the carrier. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm?”

“You look nervous. It’s just me and the Lowells’ hounds back here.” 

“Oh, yes.” His ears blush pink as he accepts the carrier and steps back. “Just a nervous energy in general. I have been since um…”

Oh. You had forgotten that it was San who discovered the Matheson family disemboweled by some kind of animal. The constable had thought that maybe it was a pack of wolves but was concerned by how big the claw marks and destruction were. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt.

“For what?”

“That you had to see that, I guess? It must have been terrifying.”

“A little,” he admits, looking at his shoes. “I walked the path to the Mathesons all the time. I don’t ever recall seeing something that could… do that.”

“Was it that awful?” 

He nods. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, I go on hunting parties. We’ve seen the leftovers from bears and wolves. This was something worse. It felt like…” He shakes his head and looks up at you. “It felt angry.”

“Angry?”

“Yeah. I know that doesn’t make sense. It was probably just a beast coming down from the mountain because it was starving. You know how harsh winters are.” 

You hum in agreement. 

San dismisses himself, thanking you again for helping with the family cat and throwing a wave over his shoulder. You return it half-heartedly, already distracted with thoughts of what the animal attacks could mean.

You think about your wolf and how kind and intelligent it was. You don’t remember ever feeling a sense of impending doom like you do now, a heaviness to the air as you stand idly behind the counter. 

Dr. Kim's return startles you at the counter. You press your hands flat against the top of the desk, leaning up on your tiptoes as you see his son Seokjin enter behind him. Your heart flutters a little at the sight, still overwhelmed by his handsome face. 

Seokjin is tall and broad, with dark hair and a beautiful face. His sharp eyes find you and he gives you a half smile, though there seems to be something on his mind as he follows his father into the backroom, Dr. Kim barely saying hello as he goes, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

The two of them disappear and you watch the door swing shut behind them. Curious, you trail around the counter and softly walk over to the door, pulling it open a smidge.

It’s difficult to pick up on their words, but you can hear Dr. Kim’s timbre speaking in low tones from somewhere in the backroom. You hold your breath and wedge the door open a little more, pressing your ear toward the gap between the frame and the door. 

“... again. They’re going to want to start hunting parties again soon.”

“So what do we do?”

Silence. Then, “Send a message….”

“... brought it on themselves… it’s time to make things right.” 

Behind you, the bell rings at the door. You gasp, letting go of the door to the back room and spin around, heart hammering in your chest. Hoseok stands at the door, raising his brows in question. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand, suddenly angry that he’s startled you and ruined your sleuthing.

“I promised your mom I would walk home with you at the end of your shift, remember? Dangerous out there.” 

You blink and look out the window, realizing that the heavy gray of evening is setting over the road. You hadn’t realized it was so late. 

Nodding, you grab your cloak in a hurry. You pop your head into the back room, both Seokjin and Dr. Kim looking at you as you do. “I’m leaving for the evening, sir. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you for watching the place while I was gone. Tomorrow we have to make a house call to the Marrow farm. Lame horse.”

Seokjin frowns. “Do you think that is wise?” Dr. Kim looks at his son under heavy brows. “With the current conditions.” 

“We’ll be fine.” Something passes between them, son and father locked in a heated gaze. You stand there awkwardly, glancing between the two.

Seokjin breaks his stare from his father and flashes you a grin. “You have someone to walk you home?”

“Yeah, Hoseok is here.” You hug the cloak tighter to your chest and Seokjin’s eyes drop to it. An unreadable expression passes his face before he nods. “Have a good evening!”

“You too.”

Leaving them behind, you head to where Hoseok waits for you, examining drawings of animal skeletons and anatomy. You pull your cloak on, feeling safe and warm under the red material. Hoseok looks up at you, thrusting his thumb at one of the drawings of a horse. “I don’t look like that, right?” 

-

The red cloak tied around you wicks the sweat from the back of your neck. Your fingers work quickly as you tie it, knowing you’re already late to meeting Dr. Kim. Thankfully, you don’t make a habit of being late and you’re sure he won’t mind too much.

Strange dreams had plagued you all night. Images of wolves, blood and mist. Echoes of howling, screaming and thunder. Now as you hurry out of your home and into the wicked wind of winter, you cannot shake a sense of premonition.

Dr. Kim is already on the doorstep when you arrive at the veterinary office, a heavy coat on his shoulders and a bag of tools in his hand. He nods when he sees you and comes down the steps, turning toward the south exit of the village. 

Neither of you speak. Beyond the fact that you don’t think you’d be able to hear Dr. Kim over the howling wind, it doesn’t feel like the kind of trip that requires speaking. The evergreens on either side of the road loom over you, bows heavy with snow. Every so often, a branch cracks with the weight of frozen icicles, making you flinch with the sound.

It feels like you’re being watched. Every so often, you swivel your head this way and that, glancing at the trees. The trunks are too close together and the branches to tangle to see beyond them on either side of the road. Still, your skin tingles from something beyond the cold, you just don’t know what. 

The Marrow farm is only a little over a mile from the main village, but the snow covered roads make it slow going. As you near the edge of where their acres begin, your boots are already heavy with melted slush and your calves and thighs burn from dragging your feet through the path. 

Perhaps it was not a good day to do a house call. 

Passing white-covered gates, you’re thankful that at least the wind has died down as the morning turns into midday. The sun is hidden by clouds, but there is a hint of warmth in the air. The Marrow farm is made up of three buildings: the small house in front, the large barn to the back left where they keep their animals, and a giant silo for grains. 

As you near the house, a loud banging reaches you. Both you and Dr. Kim pause, listening as the sound carries on the wind. It doesn’t sound like hammering, but rather like a door slamming over and over again. 

“Barn door?” you suggest, looking up at Dr. Kim. His dark eyes look at the house, expression grim. “But why would they let it slam relentlessly?” 

“Keep your wits about you,” he murmurs, ignoring your question. “Go to the main house. I’ll go round to the barn. Perhaps they’ve forgotten the appointment.”

No smoke comes from the chimney. No snow is cleared from the footpath to the door. The shutters are closed, which makes sense to keep the cold out. As you approach the steps leading up to the porch, you note that none of the hounds are baying. The Marrow’s have several bloodhounds, all of which keep noisy providence around the threshold of the door. 

Spine tingling, you lift your hand and knock. There’s no answer. You strain your ears, leaning forward for any hint that the Marrow’s or one of their two sons are coming to the door. Not even the dogs alert them of your presence. 

You think about San finding the Mathesons butchered and your stomach drops. You knock again, knuckles stinging with cold as they rap harshly against the wooden door. Tucking your hand back into your cloak, you wait. 

Nothing comes. 

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door and twist the handle. It opens easily, swinging inward to a cold, empty home. Inside, the air is still and dead. Behind you, the breeze brushes the edges of your cloak and the hood on your head. 

Silence hangs. Licking your lips, you lift a foot. It hands over the threshold, fear making you pause. There is nothing inside the home, and yet you find that you’re utterly terrified of stepping inside. Your stomach knots and for a few moments, you just stand there with your foot in the air, staring with unseeing eyes into the dark interior. 

You step into the room and pause. Nothing happens. The air inside the home is stale, like the doors and windows have not been opened for a few days. The cold is bone deep, clinging to the undisturbed air. You scan the room for any sign of life, but see nothing that stirs. 

Everything looks lived in. There are knitted blankets tossed across the backs of old arm chairs, boots by the door, unlaced and soft with age. Mugs have been turned upside down and placed on a towel near the basin for drying, and there are dice on the kitchen table. 

Navigating slowly, you move to the hall with bedrooms. Doors hang open, revealing unmade beds and clothes on the floor. Here too, the air feels undisturbed. You hear the breeze outside and the soft creak of the house, but nothing else makes a sound, save for the loud beating of your own heart. 

Shivering, you make your way to the front of the home. Something foul hangs in the air and you want to be rid of the feeling, quickening your steps to leave through the front door and-

Fear stabs deep into your stomach when you see the wolf standing in the doorway. It stands half in the home, half out, only the front two paws over the threshold. The beast barely fits in the door frame, wide as two men standing side by side and tall as a horse. 

You don’t move. It stares at you with bright, burning eyes. Its fur is dark, though there is a jagged ring of light fur around the right, front paw. You swear you smell pine and bergamot. Something nudges at the back of your mind as the two of you stand off - and it clicks into place.

“You,” you breathe. “You’re the wolf I helped!” 

For a moment, the bright yellow eyes stare at you. They’re unreadable, and yet… emotive. Intelligent. Understanding. The wolf dips its snout in a nod. 

“What are you doing here? Where are the Marrows?” 

The wolf’s ears flicker. Slowly, it backs out of the house. Throwing caution to the wind, you rush after him, nearly tripping over a wolfskin rug in the home.

Outside, the wolf stands below the porch. You step on the porch and pull up short, heart racing as you see the pack of wolves standing in front of the home.

The wolves are a variety of colors and sizes. You dare not move your head, but you scan them with your eyes, drinking in the different creatures. The only thing that they have in common is that they are freakishly large. 

Your wolf - for in your mind he’s yours - stands in front of you. He growls, hair on his spine raising as he regards the other wolves. There’s a silent standoff of sorts, the wolf you saved facing the others. You cannot understand their body language, but the air seems charged. 

The smell of smoke is in the air. You don’t dare look for the source, too afraid to do anything to disrupt the standoff. Breathing in deeply, you think you smell cedar. Oil. Something else that you can’t identify. 

Footsteps crunch the snow. You whip your head to the side, a warning on your tongue as Dr. Kim rounds the house, a haunted expression on his face. He stops abruptly, looking at the display in front of him behind frosted glasses. He says nothing - does nothing but glance between you, the wolf in front of you, and the others. 

Finally, one of the other wolves chuffs and shakes, dispelling snow. It has an all white coat and intense, dark eyes that look at you with… annoyance, if wolves can look annoyed. It turns to leave and the others follow - all five of them - as the white wolf leads them at a loping trot toward the silo and the woods beyond.

Your wolf turns to peer at you, ears flicking before it breaks off into a run, trailing after its pack to leave you and Dr. Kim standing in silence, watching them go. 

Slowly, you turn to Dr. Kim. He scrutinizes you, eyes squinted. “Where did you get that cloak?” 

You look down at the rich, red cloth. “I… well it just appeared, one day when I was younger. I don’t know.”

He regards you suspiciously. “I see. Come. We must leave right away.”

Dr. Kim begins walking at a fast pace back toward town, clutching his tool case. “Wait! Where are the Morrows?” 

Instead of answering, Dr. Kim continues on. You scramble after him, careful not to slip on the icy stairs. The wind picks up and you smell a fire again, making you turn back as you try to catch up. You almost stumble over your feet, eyebrows shooting up as you see orange flames consuming the barn. 

“Dr. Kim!”

Again, he says nothing. You stop and stare, watching as the fire eats away at the barn. The smoke burns black. Fueled by oil, you think. Looking over your shoulder, you watch Dr. Kim’s retreating back and wonder what exactly it is that he’s done. 

“Did you set that fire?” you demand, chasing him. He gives you a withering look. “What is going on?”

“Speak nothing of this,” he snaps. “We arrived here to make a housecall and discovered that the barn was on fire. We suspect that Mr. Marrow was burning to melt the snow around the barn and that the barn caught. The Marrow family died inside trying to put out the fire.”

“But the wolves-”

“Do not mention the wolves, girl.”

“Did they kill the Marrows?” His jaw works but he doesn’t answer. “Did they kill the Mathesons?” 

“This village has a complicated history,” he says finally. He pulls his coat tighter. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I do expect you to stay out of it. Say nothing of the wolves and stay away from them. You’ll make it through winter.”

-

Two weeks pass, the secret heavy on your tongue. You work with Dr. Kim as though nothing happened, and when people ask about the Marrow farm, you recite vague details. You don’t know why you do it but… the image of the wolf - your wolf - floats in your mind each time you spit out the lie. 

Thoughts plague you as Hoseok lounges on the porch of the office that belongs to Hoseok’s father, who acts as the town’s scribe and legal affairs recorder. A sudden warm day has brought everyone outdoors, lounging on their porches and trying to take advantage of the melting snow around the buildings. The streets are muddy and murky as kids run by, feet splashing. 

A group of men prowl around the outskirts of the village. Sun shines through the slats of the overhang in front of the inn, warming where you lean on the porch railing. Hoseok rattles on about gossip he’s heard from his mother’s tea parties and his father’s work on will and testaments with the growing fear of death in the village. 

“Plagues, serial killings, blood feuds and animal attacks,” Hoseok sighs, staring up at the ceiling where he lies. “Good for father’s business. Bad for my cramping hand trying to help him.” 

“Hmm,” you hum noncommittally, thoughts lost as you stare out into the street with unseeing eyes.

Shouts make you flinch. You stand rod straight, gripping the railing as you look for the source of the disruption. Hoseok stands up immediately, joining you at the railing as the pair of you lean to look toward the entrance to the town. 

At first, you think that it’s about another wolf attack. People rush into the street, looking toward the commotion. Then you see it. Gleeful cheers spring up to the buildings closest to the town’s entrance as the first few traders enter the road. Your heart soars when you see donkeys pulling a cart behind them, followed by more people carrying packs and towing small carts. 

“The traders!” You breathe, feeling a sigh of relief sweep through you. “They’ve made it!” 

Excitement ripples through the village. People come flocking from the buildings to welcome cart after cart full of people. Some traders tow full carriages with riders at the front, the shutters on their carriages tied shut, hiding their wares inside. 

Hoseok lounges back down, letting out a sigh of relief. You feel the same, leaning on the railing again to watch as the carts are towed down the road, pulling down different streets to set up shop and find accommodations. 

Most of the traders look vaguely familiar to you - you see the Robin’s with their cloth cart and Morty with his towering carriage of unusual wares and charms. The Yang twins set off small, popping fireworks from the back of their cart, making the children squeal. 

Something catches your eye. “There are more traders than usual,” you tell Hoseok, frowning as your eyes settle on the large men who walk among the carts, all of whom wear weapons belts and look from side to side as they walk. “I think they’re warriors, Hoseok.”

“Warriors?” he laughs. “Strange.”

“No really, there are several men with blades at the hip and bows on the back. They look… guarded.”

He tilts his head, eyeing where your eyes flit from person to person. “Perhaps the road is as hard as we suspected this year.” 

You hum in agreement, watching as the caravans stop and unload, the muddy streets filling with people and chatter and bubbling with excitement. It feels like the bubble of anxiety looming over the town has popped - at least temporarily - relieving the pressure that had been building with every passing day. 

Leaning against the rail, you’re content to observe. All manner of people and things are pulled from carts. Vendors start setting up right away, people forming lines for ingredients, cloth, and wares. The largest line of all is for weapons and metal tools, Old Man Heo barely has time to park his cart before the men of the village ask how much for iron arrowheads and blades. 

A shiver goes through you as your eyes sweep back toward the town entrance where more people pour in. Fewer caravans come through - now it’s just people with pack mules or bags over their shoulders. 

The hairs on your arm stand up when you see him. Wind lifts the edge of your cloak, making it flutter around you. You watch as he walks down the main street with the other travelers, eyes flicking around as he drinks in the buildings and the crowd of villagers coming to welcome the traders. 

As though he senses your staring, his head snaps to you. You feel frozen to the spot, your fingers tightening on the rail as you meet his eyes. They’re unfathomably dark and yet… a tingle of familiarity slithers up your spine. 

He stares at you in turn. You’re sure he’s looking at you, paused near the cart he stands next to, dark gaze focused on where you stand on the porch. 

You’ve never seen him.  You’re sure of it. You’d remember a handsome face like that anywhere. His long, dark hair is pushed back from his face, revealing a sharp jawline, a strong nose, and intense eyes. His lips are red from the cold - pretty against tan skin.

He’s tall. Taller than most men in the village and broad, with strong shoulders and thick arms, though it’s hard to tell underneath his tunic. Like the other hardy men accompanying traders, he has a weapons belt snug around his waist and the bulk of his frame implies that he knows how to use them. 

The man doesn’t break eye contact. His mouth begins to tilt in what you think might be the start of a smile when Hoseok sits up abruptly, startling you. You break eye contact, looking at Hoseok who bites into an apple, offering you one. 

“You frightened me,” you snap, a little irritated at being distracted. When you glance back up at the man, his attention is elsewhere. 

“What were you staring at anyway?” he asks, crunching bits of apple. 

“Nothing,” you murmur, eyes on the flexing back of the man as he helps unload a wagon near the inn. Something niggles at the back of your mind. I know you. “Nothing at all.” 

“Want to visit the vendors later when they’re all set up? I would love to get some spiced wine and listen to Marla’s stories tonight.”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “Let’s do just that.” 

-

Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity. Incurable energy simmers under the surface as you wait for the day to fade to evening. You clean the entire house, you collect wood from outside, you dress and then change into something else, and you ultimately end up pacing back and forth in your room while you wait for Hoseok to arrive. 

Your thoughts are consumed by the mystery man you had seen earlier. His handsome face swims in your memory. The clear image of his face is accompanied by some feeling you cannot identify, something that almost feels like nostalgia. How can you feel nostalgia for someone you don’t know? 

Hoseok finally arrives, letting himself into your house cheerily. The brief respite from winter is already bleeding away, the wind carrying a painful promise as it lifts your hood outside. The traders, it seems, arrived at the perfect time, the cloudy sky promising snow in the morning once more. 

Energy sizzles in the air. It’s as though the momentary fear of the wolf attacks is momentarily forgotten with the arrival of the vendors and travelers. The noise echoes from every street, torches, and fires lighting up the alleyways and down as people hang lamps in the windows and carts string up tea lights. 

Though you’re nervous, you are temporarily distracted as Hoseok pulls you through a tangle of carts toward Sal’s Sweets. Your stomach grumbles when you catch the scent of melting sugar and sweet confections, joining the line at Hoseok’s side to pick up hot, sticky sweets. 

With hot, sweet rolls drizzled in honey in hand, you and Hoseok explore the vendor carts. It is an explosion of color and lights, glittering jewelry hanging from displays, hot meats sizzling in pants over fires, the flash of powder and light as the Yang twins set off more fireworks, and the smell of spices as you pass by herb carts and tents. 

Everywhere you go, you see the men from before, looming near carts with weapons and steely expressions. But not even the eerie sight of them can bring down the spirits of the villagers, kids running with new kites and jars full of fireflies. 

As you stand in line with Hoseok who wants new inkwells, you listen to passing chatter. From what you gather, it was a hard trip this way on the caravans this year. The winter was just as harsh on the road as it was in the village, and the traders' voices become quiet when they talk about thieves and monsters in the woods.

You exchange a glance with Hoseok and he nods. Wolves. 

Wordlessly, you wait as Hoseok points out the inks that he wants. You begin to crane your neck, looking for the familiar stranger that you had seen before. The square is crowded and packed tight with people, making it nearly impossible to make out much beyond a few feet in front of you.

You spot Dr. Kim walking next to Seokjin, both of their heads bowed as they speak to one another. You narrow your eyes, remembering the way Dr. Kim had silenced you at the Marrow farm. You watch them as they head toward the road that the veterinary practice is on, pausing as a man pushes off the wall to join them.

It’s him you realize. You recognize the broad shoulders and the dark hair as he turns his back to you, walking with the Kims down the road. You don’t even have to think twice.

“Hey,” you tug Hoseok’s sleeve. “I’m going to go see Dr. Kim about something really quick. I’ll meet you at the inn?”

“Sure.” He frowns. “Is it safe to go alone?”

“With all of these people?” You’re already backing away and shrugging. “Definitely.” 

Without waiting for Hoseok to respond, you turn on your heel and rush into the crowd. The bodies of people immediately swallow you. The sound and sights and smells become a blur as you push through the crowd, shouldering people aside. You get some nasty looks from the force at which you move, but they immediately forget you as more people press in.

Less people pass you by as you walk up the street, pulling your cloak in tight. The lights in front of the building are off. You creep up the stairs and try the handle, finding it locked. It doesn’t matter, you sneak around the back of the building to the rear entrance and press your ear to the door. When you hear nothing, you try the handle and it twists.

Victorious, you open the door and slide through. The hallway is narrow with four doors on the right leading to examination rooms and two doors on the left. The first door leads to the kennel area where you hear voices. The second leads to the front lobby and desk.

The front lobby is the safest option, lest you get caught eavesdropping in the hallway when they leave. Carefully, you creep by the door, holding your breath and praying the floor doesn’t creak. Your heart pounds as you inch past the door, hearing deep voices on the other side as you go by. 

Clearing the door, you hurry into the lobby and to the door behind the desk that leads to the kennels. Crouching down low to hide yourself from anyone walking by the windows, you carefully pull the door open, unwilling to open it any further than the width of your index finger. Pressing your ear to the open gap, you listen.

“We talked about discretion,” Dr. Kim says, his voice frustrated. “This isn’t discretion. This is harassment and fear-mongering.”

“I told you,” a deep, smooth voice answers. You assume it must belong to the stranger and you shiver, eyes fluttering as the sound of it washes over you. “It isn’t my decision to make. I do not lead. Yoongi made it very clear how he wishes to proceed.” 

“Yoongi is a lunatic.”

“He’s the alpha.”

You frown. Alpha? You’re familiar with the concept of alphas in packs of dogs and herding animals, but you don’t know what that has to do with people or who Yoongi is. 

“The hunts will begin tomorrow.”

You think Dr. Kim means the hunting for the wolves. It makes sense now that the traders are in town and they can stock up on weapons. 

“As is the way of things,” the stranger answers with a sigh. “You know why Yoongi has chosen this path.”

“Is revenge worth it?”

“Perhaps your kind do not understand.” The stranger’s voice hardens. You wonder what he means by your kind. “You have one foot in the forest, one in the village.” 

“We understand, but we’re also not reckless.” Charged quiet hangs in the air. You hold your breath, your heart thundering in your chest, waiting for the sound of footsteps at the end of a conversation. “Why are you here, Namjoon? You came alone.”

Namjoon. The name washes over you, a warm feeling like the first spray of summer rain. It must be the stranger's name. 

Namjoon answers, “There is… a protected here. But I still fear for them. Yoongi and the others are angry - I wish to further keep them from harm.”

A frown twists your mouth. This Namjoon is here to protect someone from Yoongi. You wonder what this has to do with Dr. Kim. Could… Perhaps someone is using the wolves as tools? You’ve certainly seen a hunter train wolves or wolfhounds before, though it’s a dangerous business. 

Dr. Kim sighs. “That is the only saving grace of you being here, I’m afraid. Seokjin and I cannot help you. Not without exposing ourselves. I’ve already done what I can.”

“You have my greatest thanks for that. You and yours will always be safe. And not just because of your blood.”

Shuffling makes you lean away from the door immediately. You slowly drop it back in place before crawling over to the desk and hiding under it, straining your hearing as the footsteps go into the back hall and out of the back door. You remain there long after you hear the back door shut, waiting just in case they’re still outside.

When you’re sure they’ve gone, you crawl out from underneath the desk and hurry into the hall and out the back door. The alley is empty when you stick your head out, sagging with relief. You hurry out and close the door behind you, spinning around and-

“You know, most people who don’t want to be seen don’t sneak around in a red cloak.”

The man - Namjoon - looms over you, looking down at you with an amused expression. Your scream is cut off when he winces and cups your mouth with his hand. “Well don’t scream! You’ll summon Giho and Seokjin back this way. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Namjoon waits for a moment, your chest heaving as you nod, signifying that you won’t scream for help. Maybe it’s silly, but you trust him not to hurt you. At the least, he is there to protect someone in the village, so he doesn’t seem like he’s there for nefarious reasons.

When he drops his hands, you press yourself against the door, trying to put a little distance between you. Namjoon’s presence is demanding, a tickle prickling at the base of your spine as you look up at him, mystified. 

He’s so beautiful. Up close, you can make out his features far better than earlier that day. His eyes are dark and framed by beautiful, silken lashes. His nose is broad and his jaw is sharp. A dimple appears when he gives you a lopsided grin, dark eyes sizing you up.

The same sense of familiarity from earlier comes back to you, and though you’ve never seen his face before, you swear you know him. Warmth radiates from him, the delicate smell of pine and bergamot reaching you. He feels like… yours. Like some part of him completes you. It is the strangest feeling. 

“You okay, Red?” he asks, tone earnest. You furrow your brows at the term and he grins - genuine and warm. “Your cloak. It’s a very bright red. Pretty, though.”

“Thank you?”

He raises a brow. “Are you asking me?”

“I’m… you’re awfully close.”

Namjoon takes a few steps back from you. You suddenly regret saying something as his warmth vanishes, replaced by the cool wind. “Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Why didn’t you alert Dr. Kim if you knew I was snooping.”

“You don’t seem to be a threat. Plus, he’s a bit of a grouch. It didn’t seem worth it to hear him chastise a pretty girl.”

You flush. “How do you know the Kims?”

“Family friends.” 

“What were you all talking about?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Just because I’m not chastising you for listening to our private conversation doesn’t mean I’m going to divulge the details of said private conversation.”

You divert your gaze, feeling flushed. He has a point, but if he’s put out by your line of questioning or your eavesdropping, he doesn’t show it. “Come on,” Namjoon says. “Let’s go back to the square. I need a drink and it’s dangerous to walk around right now.”

“Because of the wolves?”

He stares at you. “Because it’s dark and there are a bunch of strangers in your town, and you’re a woman alone. In the dark.”

“You’re a stranger in my town.”

His grin spreads and his dimple deepens. Your stomach flutters. You’re not unaffected by him, a little dizzy and nervous when he sticks out a hand. “Namjoon. I’m a part of the Kim family.”

“Like… Dr. Kim?” you ask, reaching out your hand and giving him your name.

“We’re related, in a way. Pretty name. I think I’ll stick with Red, though.”

Namjoon takes off walking. For a second, you just stand and stare at him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t look back. You lick your lips, heart pounding. You cannot shake the sense of something peculiar about him, something familiar. He’s a Kim - perhaps you know him.

Determined to find out, you take off after him, scurrying to catch up. You fall into step with him and look up to find him smirking down at you before focusing back on the growing noise and lights of the main square. 

“Have you been here before?” you ask, watching him from the corner of your eye. He shakes his head and you frown. “I feel like I know you.”

“Perhaps I have one of those faces?”

“No, I’d remember a face like yours.”

Namjoon turns to you, arching a brow. “A face like mine, huh?” 

Multiple fire pits dot the streets, groups of people clustered around them to keep warm as the chill seeps back into the village. The inn is bustling with people, the door propped open with a chair as people walk in and out with platters of food and tankards in hand. Multiple villagers have pulled out tables and chairs from their homes, setting them up in the street. 

It feels good. The air hums with euphoria and the promise of better days ahead, like suddenly there are not several families mourning their loved ones. The atmosphere reminds you of a festival, and you suppose it kind of is a festival. 

The smell of burning fat and ale hits your nose as you walk into the inn. Voices roar over one another and the workers are busy behind the bar. A fireplace crackles in the far corner where you spot Hoseok guarding an extra chair. 

“I fear this is where we part ways,” Namjoon announces over the din of voices. “Try not to do any more eavesdropping tonight.” You hesitate, wanting to protest. There are a million burning questions you have for him. He must see it in your face, because he smiles and says, “We’ll run into one another again. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

You were actually, and you know he knows by his smirk. “Goodnight, Red.”

You watch Namjoon go. He moves toward where the innkeeper stands at a podium looking over reservations, blending into the crowd. Just before he reaches the podium he glances over his shoulder at you, catching you watching. He shoots you a grin and you scowl, pivoting on your heel to charge toward Hoseok. 

Hoseok raises his eyebrows when he sees you storm over to him and yank the chair out from the table, sitting down in a huff. Without a word, you snatch his tankard of ale and take several, cold gulps before setting it on the table, letting it wash through you. 

“Who was that you came in with? And then stormed over here after speaking to?”

“Some relative of the Kims,” you mutter. “I find him very… frustrating.”

“He’s very handsome.”

You glare at Hoseok and see the beginning of a wicked smile. “And frustrating.” 

He lifts his cup, shrugging. “Cheers to being frustrating.”

-

A scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You lurch up from bed, head spinning as you try to gather your wits about you. Blankets tangle your limbs as you try to peel them from sweaty skin. Another scream makes you stumble out of bed, the world tilting on its axis as your body tries to catch up with your sudden lucidity. 

In the main room of your home, your mother is stumbling through the kitchen too, lighting a candle and grabbing a holder. You feel relief as you realize the screaming isn’t coming from your home, but your neighbor’s.

Together, you and your mother rush out into the cold in nightgowns, not bothering with shoes or coats. The cold is bitter, immediately stinging your skin as the Liang family joins you in running to the Hutch family home where it sounds like Mrs. Hutch is screaming like a wild animal in her house. 

“It’s Leanne,” your mother breathes, words turning to steam in the air. 

“Come on,” you urge, pulling your mother as you go, driven by the shrieks.

The front door hangs open as Mr. Liang enters the home first, an ax in hand. It occurs to you that neither you nor your mother have weapons, but Mrs. Hutch has always been kind to your mother, making the both of you charge into the darkness of her home empty-handed.

A metallic tang hits you immediately. You recoil, recognizing the stench of blood immediately. Villagers spill into the home behind you, alerted to the wailing coming from the bedroom. With torches and candles in hand, you spot the red on the dark wood floor in the hallway. 

Mr. Liang stands in the doorway of the bedroom, staring with a haunted gaze at what he sees there. Your mother pushes through the people in the home to look over his shoulder, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasps. 

“Oh Leanne,” she murmurs in horror, shoving by Mr. Liang.

You don’t go to the room. The smell and the weeping coming from the bedroom give you an inkling of what lay inside. You stand in the living room as people fill the hall, gasping and murmuring. Someone shouts to wake the constable. 

“Why?” Mrs. Hutch screams in her room, the despair in her voice rattling your bones. “Why?”

“His throat has been cut,” someone murmurs from the hall. “Murdered in bed.” 

Murdered? That throws you for a loop. You had assumed somehow it was an animal attack but… you shiver. Murder is different. 

Mr. Liang begins shooing people out of the house. You slink out into the cold and hurry to your own home, bare feet freezing in the cold, wet earth. Your mother stays with Mrs. Hutch, leaving you alone.

The dark presses in on you, every creak of a floorboard making you jump. The shadows seem menacing now and you’re quick to find and light a candle, orange light flooding the home. 

Cloth and candle in hand, you return to your room to wipe the cold mud from your feet, skin still burning from the frigid air. Voices carry in from outside, the entire town waking and gathering as the shock of murder ripples through the streets, a stone in a pond.

With sleep nowhere near possible for the remainder of the night, you get dressed. You pull on thick woolen pants, a tunic, and multiple socks, sticking your feet in your boots. Your cloak goes next, fastening it around your throat as you look out your bedroom window. 

Your home sits at an angle in a row of houses that circle the village like a ring. You can see the wall of the home next to you, and a sliver of the backyard as well. It’s that tiny space in the backyard that catches your eye, watching as someone moves from the edge of the home out of sight. 

Heart in your throat, you grab a candle and run outside. The crowd in front of the Hutch’s has grown, but you ignore them, skirting around your house to the alleyway between you and your neighbor. Nothing catches your eye as you run to the backyard, swiveling as you search in the darkness for the shadow you saw. 

The wind howls, drowning out the voices in the street. The treeline behind the houses is dark. You squint your eyes and lift the candle in your hand, the flame barely flickering as the wind makes the trees sway. There is nothing in the darkness and you begin to turn when you see a shadow in the tree line. 

It’s barely there - perhaps a trick of the light, even. You take a step forward, boots crunching in the snow. A gust of wind makes your cloak snap at your ankles, candle going out and leaving you without a source of light. You had not realized how dark it was without it, the shadow vanishing from your line of sight. 

Fear nestles in the pit of your stomach. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs as your limbs lock, realizing how stupid it was to come outside if there was a killer among the trees. Soft snow crunches somewhere close to you. You squeeze your eyes shut, tucking your chin to your chest as panic makes you shut down, unable to move and-

“Red.”

Namjoon’s voice makes you spin around. He holds a torch level with his head, the flame casting an eerie glow on his face. For a moment, he looks lupine and terrifying, your heart nearly stuttering to a halt. 

Then his face twists in concern. “What are you doing out here alone?”

“What are you doing?”

“Dr. Kim sent me over to check on you. No one answered the door so I came around back.”

“Why?”

Namjoon seems confused. “Why did I come around back or why did he send me?”

“Both.”

“I could see the light of your candle and because a murder has just happened.”

You relax a little at the logic in his answer. Snow begins to fall from the sky. You look up at the moonless black,  thick clouds floating as the bits of snow drift on the breeze. You shiver and look back to the trees, seeing nothing but tightly packed pines. Still, there is an instinctual sense of trepidation that sits heavy in your gut.

“Come on,” Namjoon says gently. “Let’s go inside. I’ll wait with you until your mother comes home.” 

Reluctantly, you follow Namjoon. Eyeing him, you realize he is dressed differently than previously that night. Now, he’s in black breeches and a black linen shirt. The weapons belt is gone and he’s without a coat. 

You frown. “Aren’t you freezing?”

“I run warm.”

It’s the only answer that he gives you as you walk back into the street which is filled with people and torches. In the distance, you hear the baying of hounds. It chills you, goosebumps exploding up and down your arms as you watch a cluster of firelights gather far off down the road. 

“The constable is leading a manhunt. They’ll come to question us too.” 

Wordlessly you gesture for Namjoon to join you inside of your home. He closes the door firmly behind you and strides to the fireplace, using the torch to coax the simmering logs to a full flame. Cedar pops as he adds the torch to the fire, orange embers drifting up the chimney. 

Rubbing your hands together, you offer him tea and he accepts with a soft smile. It doesn’t meet his eyes as he looks around the only place you’ve ever called home. Suddenly shy of your less-than-luxurious surroundings, you clear your throat and gesture to one of the mismatched armchairs by the fire as you grab a kettle.

Namjoon hardly fits in the chair. You press your lips to keep from laughing, which feels inappropriate with a man dead just a few yards away. With careful hands, you hang the kettle next to the fire, the flame close enough to heat the water as you scurry back to the kitchen and fill tea bags with herbs. 

“What kind of tea do you like?”

“Yarrow, if you have it.”

“I do.” You grab the jar, popping the top. “Are you in great pain, Mr. Kim?”

“Call me Namjoon. Mr. Kim feels far too formal.”

“Well, we are strangers, after all.”

Namjoon certainly doesn’t feel like a stranger. You cast him a sidelong glance as you say it, looking for his reaction. He turns his head from the fire, meeting your gaze head-on. His lips curve in a secret smile, making your nerves dance.

“I suppose that’s true.”

Is it? You wonder. You’re not so sure. 

Instead of asking him, you bring the mugs with bags of tea over to where he sits, handing him one. Steam rises from the spout of the teapot. With a thick towel, you lift it off of the hanger. Namjoon holds out his cup and lets you pour carefully into his mug, the smell of yarrow and mint wafting toward you. After pouring your own cup, you set the kettle down and sit across from him.

Your cold hands leech the warmth from the mug. You settle comfortably in the chair, relaxing and inhaling the chamomile in your cup. After a few moments of silence, you realize how comfortable and safe you feel with Namjoon, though you’ve only known him for a few short hours. 

“Why have you come to the village?” 

Namjoon watches the fire as he answers, “You were eavesdropping at the veterinary office. I’m sure you heard me.” You look down at your steaming cup and Namjoon chuckles, raspy and deep. It’s a nice sound.

“You said there was a ‘protected’ here. And something about a Yoongi.”

Namjoon’s face darkens at the mention of Yoongi. You chew on your lip, worried you’ve pushed him too far before you’ve even started to ask him real questions. His jaw works as he contemplates what you’ve said, sipping the tea a little. 

“A protected just means someone under protection by my family,” Namjoon says finally. “My extended family is… large. We are a very close group and we consider those in our community blood.”

“It is… not always like that here.”

“Your mother assists Mrs. Hutch, though. That seems like family, in a way.”

“Mrs. Hutch is kind. Not everyone is.” 

Namjoon nods. “It is not like that where I am from. We bear the sins of our neighbors and we share the responsibility of keeping everyone safe.”

“That must be nice.” You sip your tea and scald your tongue, hissing and setting the cup down. Namjoon leans forward as though to help you, alarm on his face. “Tea is too hot. I don’t know how you drink it.”

He smiles and shrugs. “I run warm.” 

“So you said. How are you related to Dr. Kim?” 

“He’s my uncle. He’s my father’s brother. His wife was best friends with my mom.” 

“Oh.” You blink in surprise. “She passed away when I was very young. She… died the same winter as my father.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Namjoon frowns and cocks his head. “What did your father do?” 

“He was a hunter.”

One of the logs pops in the fireplace, making you flinch. You give a nervous laugh and glance at Namjoon, who has gone stone-still. The firelight dances on his face as he peers at you. Your smile falters a little at the gravity you find there. 

“He only hunted fowl and deer,” you find yourself explaining. You don’t know why you say it, only that suddenly that feels important. “He didn’t like to hunt bigger game or predators. Mother says that he believed they were best left alone and that a true hunter knows his betters when he sees them.”

Namjoon hums. “Smart man.”

“I don’t know. He died in an animal attack when I was very young.” 

“You must resent the woods.”

“Not at all. I think…” You bite your bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “I think that he wouldn’t blame the animals. The woods are their home. My mother says he was always very adamant about that. They don’t usually attack villagers, though.”

“Usually?”

“There are animal attacks happening. I’m sure Dr. Kim told you…?”

“Ah, yes. You think they’re without reason?”

“Perhaps hunger? I don’t know. It does not happen often.” 

“Wolves are not known to hunt people.” Namjoon’s fingers drum against his mug, a steady tap. He seems thoughtful as he regards you. “They’re intelligent creatures and their packs are important to them. They take the threat to their land and their family seriously.” 

“Like your family?”

He laughs. “Like my family.” Namjoon sips his tea again. “This land used to belong to several packs of wolves, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yes, until settlers drove them out. Not that long ago there were hunting parties for sport. They slaughtered entire packs, destroying bloodlines and nearly wiping out the wolves here entirely.”

“I always found that incredibly sad.”

“Why is that?”

“They’re incredibly important to the ecosystem here. And I guess I always agreed with my dad. I don’t remember him much, but I like to remember that he was good at heart.”

Namjoon hums but says nothing else. You sit in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Namjoon’s presence is steady, keeping out the cold and the fear just beyond the door. You wonder how he does that by just sitting in a chair, or how it feels so natural. 

Outside, the world begins to turn gray. You yawn as exhaustion begins to set in and you feel yourself sagging. Eyes burning, you rub them with the back of your hands, blinking a few times to fight the explosion of colors in your vision. 

“You can sleep,” Namjoon says softly from where he sits. You glance at him. “You can trust me.”

A hint of pine and bergamot drift toward you, making you drowsy. Namjoon grabs a blanket from the back of his chair and stands up, bringing it to you. He takes your mug and you watch him with sleepy, round eyes as he places the blanket over you.

“Sleep.” His voice is soft, distant. “I will be here.”

Your eyes flutter shut and you drift to sleep, remembering the warm sound of his voice. It… reminds you of your wolf.

-

Gentle voices pull you from the clutches of sleep. You wake slowly, a cramp in your neck making you reluctant to get up. You smell the fire and the hint of pine and bergamot. You hear a low, raspy voice that you instantly recognize as Namjoon. 

How swiftly I know his voice, you think. 

“You must wake her,” a male voice says. You recognize it as Dr. Kim. “The constable is coming for questioning.”

“She’s already awake,” Namjoon answers, a smile in his voice. Your eyes snap open at being caught, meeting his dark gaze as he smirks from near your door. “See?”

You scowl at him. How did he know that? Sitting up and stretching, you appraise the two men lurking near your door. “Is my mother still with Mrs. Hutch?”

Dr. Kim nods and steps swiftly into the room around Namjoon. Namjoon reaches out a hand, catching Dr. Kim with his arm and stopping him from entering the room properly. You watch in puzzlement as there’s a silent exchange between the two of them, Namjoon’s face dark as Dr. Kim raises a brow. 

Then, Namjoon lets him go. You cock your head to the side, wondering what that’s about. Ignoring Namjoon, Dr. Kim approaches and says, “The constable will be here shortly. Say nothing about the farm.”

The farm. The memory of the wolves brings a chill to your arm, the smell of smoke and burning oil. The confusion and Dr. Kim’s refusal to answer your questions. 

“What is going on?” you demand, eyes flickering from Dr. Kim to Namjoon. “Animal attacks, murders, you covering up something at the barn. I’m being lied to.” 

“Say nothing about the farm,” Dr. Kim says again, voice firm. Namjoon makes a noise that startles you. It’s almost like a growl, your eyes going wide as he glares at Dr. Kim. “I told you this village has a complicated history. I’m looking after your safety.” 

Heavy footsteps sound on the porch. There’s a loud knock on the door, the constable announcing his presence on the other side. Namjoon opens the door for him, standing back to let him in. The constable looks him up and down with confusion before looking at you, a question in his eyes.

“They came to check on me,” you offer. The constable has known you since you were a child, it’s no wonder he’s confused at the presence of a stranger in your home. “How can I help you, constable?”

“I’d like you to answer a few questions about last night. Mr. Liang confirmed you were one of the first people to Hutch’s last night.”

Dr. Kim walks to your kitchen and busies himself making tea. Namjoon moves to sit in the chair across from you, his warm presence from the night before replaced with something mildly threatening. You cut him a look but his dark eyes are focused on the constable as though he’s a threat. 

The questions are easy enough. When did you wake up? Did you notice anyone around your home when you came home? Did you notice anyone outside? When did you come home? 

You leave out running into Namjoon behind your home. You don’t know why, but you feel the need to not draw attention to him. You also leave out the strange incident at the farm, glancing sideways at Dr. Kim when he brings you lemon tea. 

When the constable is finished, he eyes Dr. Kim. “Be at the station at four,” he instructs. “We’re splitting hunting parties. One to look for the culprit, the other to get rid of the damn wolves.” 

“The wolves were there first, you know?” Namjoon speaks up, looking at you and not the constable. “Have you ever tried figuring out what they want?”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Please ignore my nephew, constable. He likes to insert himself in conversations he doesn’t belong in. Come, let’s look over the hounds before you send them out tonight.”

Together, the constable and Dr. Kim shuffle out. Before he shuts the door, Dr. Kim levels the pair of you with a heavy gaze. You don’t know what that gaze means, but you know that something is going on in this village and that he and Namjoon seem to have some idea about it.

As soon as the door shuts, you turn to Namjoon and demand, “What is going on?”

He sighs. “Would you listen if I just said to wait it out?”

“Do you know who murdered Mr. Hatch?” 

Namjoon hesitates and shakes his head. You narrow your eyes, unbelieving. “I really don’t know who did, Red.”

“Why are you really here? Why all the secrets?” 

“I told you, my family protects those who belong to their community.”

“What did you mean about asking what the wolves want?” 

“I told you last night. There were wolves long before this village existed. Seems to me that if the wolves are suddenly killing the townspeople, perhaps it’s because they want their land back. Or maybe they’re angry from years of being hunted.”

That shuts you up. You can’t argue with that, exactly. But… “Are you saying that the wolves are capable of revenge?”

Namjoon stands and gestures to your cloak. “How often do you wear that?”

“Every day. It’s… sentimental to me.”

His eyes lighten and he offers a half smile. “Good. Red is a lucky color.”

“Where are you going?”

He opens the door, cold wind hissing past the opening. “Your mom is coming. I’ll see you later, Red.”

Without another word, Namjoon slips through the door and shuts it firmly behind him. You stare after him, openmouthed and confused. As promised, you hear your mother come up the steps, light feet scuffing before she quickly lets herself in, shutting the door firmly behind her.

You offer to make your mother breakfast, happy to help as she dozes in the chair. It isn’t until later that you wonder how Namjoon had heard her coming at all.

-

Little Lucy Larkin

In a little wood

Little Lucy Larkin

Up to no good

Little Lucy Larkin

In her little hood

Little Lucy Larkin

Ware of the woods!

Little Lucy Larkin

Stole a little bread

Little Lucy Larkin

In the woods of dread

Little Lucy Larkin

Is a little thief

Little Lucy Larkin

Die by wolf’s teeth

A sense of unease slithers up your spine as you pull your cloak closer. The voice of the children playing the Little Lucy Game echoes down the street and you pause to watch as the little boy playing Lucy steals the rock from the middle of the circle and the little boy playing the wolf gets up to chase him. 

The other kids scream and giggle as the boys give chase, the sound of their laughter eerie in the cold gray of twilight. Shaking it off, you turn and duck your head as you walk up the steps to the Tall Tales Inn. 

Warmth and the scent of food greet you. It’s a thinner crowd than the day before but still more people than you’re used to without the traders in town. There is a clear divide in the dining room with traders on one side and townsfolk on the other, the murder quick to make the locals distrust the new people in their streets.

Tense conversations hum in the gold light. You navigate around tables until you find Hoseok sitting with Seokjin. The sight of Seokjin gives you pause. He seems to sense your presence, glancing up and meeting your questioning stare. He gives no reaction, though, turning his attention back to Hoseok who is murmuring quietly.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Jin,” you say by way of greeting. Hoseok gives you a look at your clipped tone. You ignore it, sitting down and leveling the older man with a stare, his father’s mysteriousness weighing on you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

He narrows his eyes a fraction. “Just enjoying the company of friends.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping the constable?”

“I’m on the late-night shift.” 

Grinding your teeth, you sit roughly. Hoseok just watches you, brows raised. You say nothing as you order a drink and a meal, picking at the splinters of the tabletop, eyeing Seokjin. If he’s put out by your rudeness he doesn’t show it, drinking heartily from his tankard and watching you with dark, even eyes. 

You know Seokjin knows whatever it is his father and Namjoon have been talking about. You yourself have not been able to work out what’s going on in the village, but you’re sure the Kims know. And if Dr. Kim asked you to lie to the constable… well perhaps Seokjin is leading him astray as well.

Hoseok pipes up, steering the conversation everywhere he can to avoid the tension building between you and Seokjin and the topics of murders. You participate as little as possible, mind trying to put together the puzzle pieces of the blooming mystery in your home. 

An uncomfortable thought starts to take root in your mind. Is it possible that the Kim family is behind the murders? Dr. Kim has plenty of weapons at his disposal, and they had been talking about revenge, and Dr. Kim had covered up what happened at the Marrow’s farm… but what did that have to do with wolves?

You’re not sure. But you do know that the Kims are purposefully hiding things, that there is a murderer somewhere in the town or near it, and that there is a sense of doom that you cannot shake, a dark itch like stinging nettle in your bones. 

Seokjin excuses himself to take an afternoon nap before his hunting party heads out for the evening. Your eyes track him as he goes. Seokjin certainly doesn’t seem evil, but there’s no telling what’s behind his pretty face. 

“What is wrong with you?” Hoseok asks, leaning over the table and whispering harshly. “You’re behaving rather odd.”

“Something is going on.”

“Yes, your attitude.”

You turn and glare at him. “No, Hobi. Something is going on with the Kim family. I don’t know how to explain it.” You grip your cup tighter. “But I intend to figure it out.” 

Hoseok questions you about what that means. You keep your answers vague, not wanting to rope him into your plan. Too often as children did you lure Hoseok into trouble, and with how dangerous night is becoming in your town, you know it’s a bad idea to endanger him too.

T sun sets over the village. You stand at your bedroom window, watching through the frosty window as the sun turns the sky into a smear of blood. The clouds have cleared away just for this sanguine sunset. It makes your stomach turn, a sense of foreboding heavy in the air.

Still, it doesn’t deter you. Red fades to gray-blue and gray-blue fades to black. Wind rattles the glass in the window pane. Turning from the window, you find your thickest pair of pants and fur-lined tunic. The fabric feels scratchy on your skin.

Dressed, you look at your red cloak folded on the bed. Any other night you would take it with you. It has become your safety net, something that keeps you warm and keeps you safe. You cannot recall a day you haven’t worn it since it mysteriously showed up thirteen years ago, but tonight, you need obscurity.

Instead, you reach for an old, thick cloak that used to belong to your father. It's dark brown and worn at the edges, a little too big for you as the hem brushes the ground. It will serve its purpose in keeping you hidden in the dark of the woods, though. 

All you grab is a hunting knife that you don’t know how to use, a wax candle, and a solid piece of flint and sharp rock to light it with. The candle and flint are for emergencies only. You hope it won’t be so dark that you cannot see, but you’re unsure what the clouds are going to do.

Outside, the wind is sharp. Your nostrils burn as you breathe it in and duck away behind your house. No new snow has fallen during the day, which is a good thing. You don’t have to worry about dragging your boots and tiring your calves. It also helps that the sky is clear tonight, the moon a sliver of sharp light. 

Baying hounds echo through the village and the forest as the hunting dogs lead the men into the woods. You’re quick on your feet, dashing into the woods and heading north. You don’t want to run right into the hunting party, but you do want to find their burning torches and keep them in your line of sight.

They are easy to find, hovering like orange fireflies in the distance. Careful to make your way in the dark, you follow them. Your breath mists in front of you, hands shaking more from the adrenaline than the cold. 

The torches spread out. You chew on your lip, unsure which group would belong to Seokjin. You take a gamble, heading after the group closest to you. 

Everything feels too loud. Each snap of a branch under your foot and crunch of dry leaves feels like it’s going to give you away. Still, you’re good at sneaking for the most part, having spent plenty of time skulking through the village to take nightly strolls in the woods.

Voices carry to you. Through a system of running a few steps forward and dodging behind a tree, you manage to follow the men at a distance. You think that you hear the constable’s voice, which is a good sign. If he’s around, perhaps Seokjin is too.

The deeper you go into the forest, the colder it gets. The ground beneath your feet slopes. The evergreens are packed tighter here, needles tickling your hands as you keep your hands held out from your sides as you slide downward.

This is near where I saved that wolf, you think. 

It’s true. You recognize the slope of the land and the general area. You cannot tell if it’s exactly where you met the wolf, but it’s close enough that your senses tingle and your eyes sweep the land, expecting something to happen.

A sense of foreboding trails you as the men move deeper into the wood. You turn around and look for the other torches and see nothing but a dark, compact forest. Your stomach flips uncomfortably but you continue, unsure now if it’s safer to turn back or to keep going. 

Ahead, the group of men decide to take a break. The hounds sniff the area around them, pulling at the leashes as they go. Crouching low, you watch as the hounds go in circles, following the scent of something that seems to confuse them. 

The men take long droughts of water, making you wish you’d thought of that. Mouth dry and hands cold, you huddle against a tree, bark digging into your back. 

A few minutes pace by. You close your eyes, resting your head against the tree, breathing cold air in deeply. You don’t know what you expect the group to lead you to, only that you-

Something snaps behind you. Your eyes fly open and your limbs lock. Heart beating like a steady drum, you hold your breath and strain your eyes. For a moment, there’s nothing but the dim voices of the men taking a break. You think it’s nothing until you hear something again, a gentle susurration of leaves. 

One of the hounds lifts its head, ears twitching. Your eyes scan the surrounding area back and forth, searching for what you know is there. 

It happens so fast that you don’t even see the wolves enter the ring of torchlight until they’re there, snarls rattling the trees. You clamp your hands over your mouth to mute your gasp as the sounds of screams and tearing flesh explode in the night. Hounds screech, their growls savage and choked as the wolves descend. 

You don’t know how many there are. Torch lights go down and drown you in darkness. Squeezing your eyes shut, you curl in on yourself, panting through your hands as the sounds echo in your ears. A new fear has stabbed its way between your ribs, making it hard to breathe. 

Time moves slowly. Or quickly. You cannot tell which. One moment the sounds of a nightmare turned real are just a few hundred yards away. The next, an eerie silence blankets the dark forest. 

You don’t want to open your eyes, but you have to. Very slowly, you crack an eye open. At first, there’s nothing. Your vision swims with flashing colors, your eyes trying to adjust. Then, there is the vague outline of trees. Ahead of you, where the men had been, lay shadowed piles. 

Shaking, you glance around. You see nothing - hear nothing. You stand slowly. Each inch you gain feels like you’re being too loud. Sweat gathers on the back of your neck. The cool air makes it feel like an icy finger brushing down your nape. 

When you’re sure that there’s nothing else around, you take a step toward where the attack happened. Leaves crunch beneath your feet. You stop breathing, waiting for signs of anything. Nothing happens and you let out a trembling breath, taking one more step. Again, you wait to see if your footfalls will trigger something. 

You repeat this to the edge of the slaughter - for that’s what it is. A slaughter. Bile rises in your throat as you reach the first body and stamped-out torch. The constable and his hound lay in tatters, only recognizable by the batch on his cloak. 

It is carnage. You don’t dare breathe through your nose for fear of breathing in the scent of death, circling the scene with weak knees, hand pressed to your mouth to keep in the whimpers. You see the faces of men you’ve known since you were a child. Ripped, bloodied, gored. 

Finally, you lean over and empty the contents of your stomach. It burns on the way up, choking you. Pressing a hand against a tree, you breathe raggedly. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you twitchy and unstable, each nerve feeling like it’s on fire. 

Leaves crunch a few feet away. Your head snaps in and you zero in on the source of the noise, mouth hanging open when you see Seokjin standing amongst the trees. He stares at you, frown on his face. 

“Who are you?” he asks, voice gentle. You realize he can’t see your face under the cowl of your hood and you’re not in your traditional red. He sighs. “Doesn’t matter.” 

You hear shuffling behind him before you see a white wolf. The white wolf from the Marrow farm. There are others, then. You don’t know how you missed them, the darkness of their fur blending in with the darkness around them.

The white one is spotted in red, muzzle matted, teeth slicked. Your stomach lurches. It isn’t hard to guess where it’s from. You take a step back and the wolf growls, lips pulled back. You freeze, looking amongst the pack of wolves that fan out around Seokjin, desperately looking for your wolf with the kind, intelligent eyes. 

You do not find him there. 

With a growl, the white wolf steps forward. Your instincts kick in and you turn and run, letting out a wild shriek as you do so. If Seokjin recognizes your voice when you scream, you cannot tell. The wolves are after you and you’re barreling through the trees with no hope of outrunning them, especially uphill.

A wolf nips at your ankle and you scream, tripping over your feet in your terror and going down hard. You’re jarred as you hit the ground, bones rattling as pain shoots up your limbs from the impact. Before you can scramble, there are teeth around your ankle, not biting down hard enough to snap, but hard enough to drag.

Your scream is wretched even to your ears. It is a curdling, nightmarish sound. You feel the scrape of leaves and sticks against your skin, cloak picking up dirt and twigs as you go. Your nails dig into the ground but the soil is frozen solid, fingers scraping bluntly against it. 

With a surge of self-preservation, you kick your free leg backward as hard as you can. You hit the wolf in the muzzle, making it cry, and let go of your foot. You manage to crawl to your knees, slipping in the foliage as you try to stand before it’s tearing at your cloak, determined to drag you one way or another. 

Sliding again as it drags you by the cloak, you try to undo the ties at your throat with shaking fingers. It comes away and frees you from the hellish drag to your death. This time, you’re faster to your feet, turning and running in the opposite direction. You don’t know where you’re going, just that you want to get away. 

Your foot slides on the incline and with a shout you go down. This time, your head hits the ground hard. Your ears ring and your vision pulses. Blinking, you roll over and stare up at the canopy of dark trees. The world spins dangerously and you feel nausea churn deep in your stomach.

“Yoongi!” you hear the deep voice but it sounds warbled like you’re hearing it through water. Your head lolls to the side, the ringing in your ears still going as you see feet pass you. “Enough!”

Your field of vision narrows to a sharp point, edges pulling with black. You realize you’re about to pass out, oddly just thankful that you’re already on the ground. Just as your world begins to face, the face of the person in front of you appears.

Namjoon. 

-

“Hey,” a gentle voice calls to you. There are soft hands on your head, brushing against your forehead. It smells like pine and bergamot as you snuggle into them. “I hate to wake you, but you need to wake up every few hours.”

The memory of the wolves comes to you. Your eyes snap open and you blink a few times before your vision adjusts to see Namjoon leaning over you. Cringing away from him, you press yourself into a warm, soft mattress that isn’t your own.

“Easy,” he cautions, holding his hands up. “You smacked your head very hard. I think you have a concussion.” 

“Where am I?” 

The room isn’t so much a room as it is a shack. There is a single fireplace in the far corner, a pile of logs, and the bed that you’re in. Despite the tiny space, it looks well-built and it’s warm, your heart slowing down as Namjoon leans to sit further from you and give you your space.

“Random shack in the woods near your village. I think it used to be a hunter’s stead for the winter.” He jerks his thumb toward the fireplace. “Hasn’t been used in a while. The wood has rotted.” 

“Seokjin - you - what is going on?” 

Emotions spill out of you like a broken dam. You don’t know which to acknowledge first: anger, fear, curiosity, gratitude. 

Namjoon’s sigh is heavy. He visibly looks wearing, running a hand through his hair. You wonder how soft his hair is, followed immediately by feeling ridiculous for the timing of said thought. 

“Just…” he winces. “Try to lean back and take it easy, I’m worried about how hard you hit your head. I promise I have no intentions of hurting you or letting anyone hurt me.”

“You called that white wolf Yoongi. Who is Yoongi? Why was Seokjin in the woods - those people - they’re dead.”

He nods slowly. “They are.” 

You lean back carefully. The bed is comfortable and Namjoon keeps his distance, worried eyes on you. “I will try to explain the best I can. It will require a little bit of faith that I’m not lying to you and that I’m not insulting your intelligence by telling you things that will sound insane.” 

“Like what?”

“Like werewolves exist.”

You stare at him. He doesn’t laugh, crack a grin, or do anything to make you believe he’s joking. Your first instinct is to blow him off. Werewolves were a tale for children and a way to help the children of the village cope during periods of wolf violence. 

Thus far, all Namjoon has done is protect you. Strange as it seems, you know that fact to be true. He didn’t tell Dr. Jim you were eavesdropping, he kept you company after Mr. Hatch’s murder, and he stopped the wolves from taking you.

Namjoon is… there is something between you. You know it.

Hesitantly, you say, “Alright. Werewolves exist. Keep going.”

He is visibly relieved that you’re not questioning or berating him. You don’t exactly believe him yet, but you want to hear his story. 

“There were communities of werewolves who lived here long before humans did. When people migrated to this area, they drove them out and forced those communities to become smaller and smaller. When the werewolves asked for their land back or to share resources, they were hunted and slaughtered.” 

Namjoon’s throat bobs and emotions flicker across his face. His features settle on pain, and you stop yourself from reaching out to take his hand. “What you vaguely remember as wolf attacks and wolf hunts as a child was those families being exterminated. There are a few families in the village who remember that werewolves exist. They took it upon themselves to remove the problem forever.”

This village has a complicated history. 

Dr. Kim’s words float through your mind as you chew on what Namjoon has told you. He lets the information settle, giving you a few moments to think. You don’t recall anyone seriously ever talking about werewolves but… 

“They’re angry,” you murmur, remembering how San described the massacre at the Mathesons. “The wolves now - those aren’t wolves. They’re werewolves who are getting revenge. You spoke of revenge with Dr. Kim. Is that why the animal attacks have been happening?”

Namjoon nods grimly. “There is a very small concentration of people in the village who keep the secret about the massacres and the knowledge of werewolves. Those families have been… targeted recently. They still hunt werewolves when they can.”

“Who is Yoongi?”

“Ah,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “He leads the last remaining community of werewolves. His family was murdered by your constable when he was a child.” You blanch. “Yoongi is angry, vengeful, and very influential. When he was voted pack alpha, he decided to eliminate the last remaining threats.” 

“He’s the white wolf.” Namjoon raises his brows but nods. You think that makes sense, remembering the white wolf at the Marrow farm and the one who dragged you in the forest. “Why was Seokjin there? Did he lead the constable to-”

Namjoon hesitates and nods. “The Kim family are wolf friends. It’s largely the reason Dr. Kim is a veterinarian. They’re what we call one foot in the forest. There were two others in your village that were wolf friends. Your neighbor was one.”

You twist your fingers in the blanket. “Did Yoongi-”

“No. I believe he was murdered by one of the men who knows what Yoongi and his people are.” 

“So that’s why Seokjin led them to Yoongi?” Namjoon gives a curt nod. “This is…. A lot to take in.” 

“It is. Sleep a little more and we’ll talk about it more when you wake up. Your head is already swimming enough, yeah?”

Namjoon’s grin is gentle and you shoot one back. “Do you promise to tell me why you’re really here? And why it feels like I know you?”

“Of course. Sleep, Red.”

-

Namjoon wakes you again a few hours later. This time, it’s with water. It’s cool and fresh, soothing your aching head and waking up your sleepy senses. He lets you drain the entire thing, sitting thoughtfully at the end of your bed. 

This time, you feel more alert. Sitting up carefully, you cross your legs and examine him. He’s dressed in simple clothes and a jacket, the fireplace throwing an orange glow on his face. Again, you’re struck with how much you could swear you know him, like his eyes are something you know and love. 

He waits for you to get settled, placing your hands in your lap. You fiddle with the edge of your tunic, drinking him in. Strong shoulders, rough hands, tawny skin. Your heart does a flip before you shove away thoughts of how pretty he is to think about what he’s told you so far.

“I have questions.”

He smiles and it’s as warm as the fire behind him. “Of course you do.”

“Did the werewolves kill my father?”

You get the tough one out of the way first. It was a thought you had just before you slept, wondering if your father had been someone who helped the constable murder Yoongi’s family. Though you have decided to dislike the white wolf very strongly, you can’t help but pity him.

“No,” Namjoon says vehemently. “After you told me about your father, I did some asking around. He was a wolf friend. That’s why he didn’t hunt big game, Red. He knew about us.” 

A tight feeling works its way up your throat. The relief and anger you feel is a double-edged sword, happy that he didn’t contribute to the displacement Namjoon is speaking of and angry that you know with every bone in your body that he was murdered. The instinct speaks to you the same way it tells you that you know Namjoon. 

You look up at him sharply, realizing something. “What do you mean ‘he knew about us’? Us?” 

Namjoon’s eyes are dark. He regards you intensely, making you shiver. Slowly, Namjoon begins to roll one of his sleeves. Your eyes drop to his hand as he does, long fingers meticulous. He bares his skin and holds his hand out to you, displaying the jagged, white scar that lopes around his wrist. 

Without thinking twice, you reach out to him, pulling his hand toward you. His skin is warm, sending a tingle through your fingertips. His palm is large and rough, your fingers delicate as you flip it to face the ceiling, eyes glued to the scarring around his wrist.

You move your fingers over his palm gently, scraping the calluses as you go. He lets you do what you want, touch stopping at his wrist bone before glancing up at him. His eyes are impossibly dark and he nods, urging you forward. 

The scarring is rough. Thick, ropey lines encircle his wrist like his hand was ravished by teeth. It makes you faintly think of Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle or -

“You,” you breathe, eyes meeting his. They are the same warm, intelligent, and welcoming eyes of the wolf you’d saved all those years ago. The wolf who had stood between you and the others at the Marrow farm. The wolf you dream about every night. “I saved you?”

His throat bobs. “You did.”

“I… that’s why it feels like I know you.” Your fingers trace his scar, almost fondly. Namjoon’s eyes flutter. “I do know you. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He smirks. “‘Hi, my name is Namjoon and I can turn into a wolf whenever I want and you saved me a few years ago and I’ve been thinking about you ever since’ is not exactly a great opening.” 

“Better than ‘you know most people who don’t want to be seen don’t wear a red cloak’.” He scrunches his nose. Cute. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s alright. I’ll talk if you’re willing to listen?”

You nod, not letting go of his hand. Now that you know who and what he is, any residual fear is gone. You scoot toward him, wanting to be closer. “I want to know.”

“Giho is my uncle like I said. He’s not a werewolf, though. That trait passed through my mom’s side of the family. Still, he was family and he knew about the werewolves that my father married into. He's a wolf friend and does what he can to help us, including making house calls and stealing us goods in harsh winters.”

“Huh. I always just thought he was a quiet, grumpy vet.”

“He is very much that, but he has also been a lifeline. He helps Yoongi far more than he should. It puts him in danger. His wife was killed for being a wolf friend. Giho was left alone simply because he is useful to the village.” Your fingers squeeze his hand at the hurt in his voice. “That night you found me… I was pretty young then. Fourteen, to be exact. I was nosing around the village that everyone was so afraid of and never saw the trap. I cannot emphasize how much you saved my life.” 

“It seemed like the right thing to do. I was afraid but you were… hurt. And your eyes were so kind. I don’t regret it.”

“What a relief.” You smile, genuinely happy. “I was worried you might after finding out my family were sort of… killing people.”

“When you put it that way,” you wince. “But I do believe you. That humans drove you out. That people are hurting you and your people. You don’t deserve it and I… don’t think I am in a position to offer moral arguments to what you’re doing.”

“I knew I liked you.”

“You barely know me.”

Namjoon turns his hand and catches yours, lacing your fingers. Your heart skitters as he pulls you a little close and leans, eyes narrowed playfully. “Hmm, sorry. I wasn’t really allowed to come hang out around your town, Little Red.” 

“Why did you finally come? Is it to help Yoongi?”

He shakes his head. “I only have one goal.”

“Which is?”

“To keep you safe.” That quiets you. Namjoon doesn’t meet your eyes when he continues, “You showed me such kindness, I just wanted to repay you. I liked to keep an eye on you when I could, always from a safe distance. You might not know me, but I grew up knowing you.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words. For someone who poses such a threat, Namjoon is gentle. Soft. Kind. You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Did you give me the red cloak?” 

“Yeah. It was to mark you as a friend. We give them to those who are under our protection.” He narrows his eyes. “Which is why Yoongi swears he didn’t know it was you in the woods tonight. Seokjin’s eyesight is too piss poor to realize it was you. Idiots.”

“Well if you know about me, tell me about you. What’s your favorite color? What do you like to eat? What's your favorite thing about being a wolf?”

So Namjoon does tell you. You both end up sitting on the bed next to one another, arms touching as he traces the lines on your palm. Your backs are pressed against the wall, feet dangling off the edge of his bed as he tells you about his childhood. 

It is fascinating hearing about the dynamics of his community but it’s also sad. Hearing how they live in fear, hearing how so many of the people he knows are gone. Realizing that the things he tells you match up with things you realize about your own community. 

Sadness sinks to the bottom of your gut like a rock. It isn’t pity that you feel, but something far more profound. It’s regret that you didn’t know any better. Frustration that he has suffered. A radical feeling of anger and desire for justice knowing you lived in comfort while Namjoon and his family suffered. 

There are good parts, too. Namjoon recalls happy moments and blushes when he recalls seeing you a few times. It doesn’t feel weird or strange, knowing someone was looking out for you. It feels comforting, like old friends catching up. 

Namjoon’s eyes sparkle as he tells you about his favorite books. You don’t know when you stop listening to him and start staring, but it’s inevitable. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, dimple making an appearance as he recalls a story about putting Yoongi in the dirt with his brother, Taehyung’s help. You love the way he gestures wildly with his hands, every word evocative and enthusiastic. 

He’s the kind of person you would have been friends with had he grown up with you. And maybe a little more, you think, watching Namjoon watch you. His gaze is even and heated, making you squirm. His mouth twitches and you’re so sure that he knows he makes you nervous.

“I never thanked you,” you mention. He hums in question, letting you go back to tracing his scare delicately. He twitches and you grin. Good. “For saving me from the jaws of Yoongi.”

“Ah, that. I think he knew it was you. There’s a reason he dragged you instead of killing you on the spot.”

“Huh. Well, that’s very rude.”

“He’s good at that.”

“You sound fond, still.”

He nods. “I love Yoongi. Is my brother, in a way.”

“Well still. Thank you.” 

You look up at Namjoon. You’re sitting so close, shoulders pressed against one another. He smells like pine and bergamot, your favorite scent. It’s heady, awakening a foreign ache in you. Your heart speeds up as you lean into him just a little more, watching him through your lashes.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he rumbles, voice deep. 

Your toes curl. “Like what?” 

“LIke you wanna do more than just thank me.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I know.” 

Ah. You start to pull away and turn your head, realizing that he’s not interested, but Namjoon catches your chin with his other hand, tilting you back toward him. Your heart stalls when he looks down at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. “I’ve known you for all my life. Not how I wanted, but I’ve known you nonetheless. But you haven’t had the chance to know me.”

“I want to. I feel like I have known you. Like I knew you were always there.”

“Is this what you want?”

This. Namjoon. Whatever is crackling between you. The thing that has sparked since the moment he caught you eavesdropping. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t have to make sense. 

Namjoon makes sense though. The way his gaze softens when he sees you. The way he looms on the edge of your life, a silent protector. The way he could do so much damage but is soft instead. The way everything about him feels like the sun on a summer day, like a field of wildflowers in spring.

He must sense you tipping over the edge. His grip on your chin becomes firm and he tilts your face toward him, leaning down to press his warm, full mouth against yours. The effect is instantaneous. You melt into him, sighing as a feeling of belonging slots into place.

The kiss is chaste. Namjoon pulls away and your lashes flutter. You hadn’t even realized your eyes closed. His gaze is dark and half-lidded, his face close enough that you feel his breath. His lips have stoked a fire in you and you want more, you want to spill out the years of longing for something you didn’t know was there, for the sudden confirmation that he’d been there all along.

Surging forward, you press your lips to his again. This time, it’s searing, your mouth fierce as you push up off of the bed. Namjoon falls in your rhythm easily, hand leaving your chin to grab you by the waist and pull you into his lap.

Knees slotted on either side of him, you pour everything you have into the kiss. Your fingers card through his thick hair, silky strands sliding between them like you knew they would. His lips are soft on yours, mouth warm as you break the seal of the kiss with your tongue.

Namjoon lets out deep, throaty sounds. It coaxes the flame inside of you to a roar, tongue tangling with his. It’s wet and messy and a little impractical but you don’t feel embarrassed or nervous. It’s Namjoon. It feels like home. 

Pleasure tingles down your spine. Namjoon grips your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. It feels hot and your skin is burning up, static trapped between your chests where they’re pressed together. Your hips twitch, tentatively seeking friction in his lap. Namjoon responds immediately, pulling your hips toward him and letting you roll. 

Your mouths part but Namjoon doesn’t stop kissing you. You pant while he presses his mouth to your chin and jawline, tongue tough against the softness of your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he growls. You tilt your head back, letting him pepper your throat. “You have no idea.”

“I always felt like something was missing. I think it was you.”

Namjoon moans at your admission. The heat between your legs is almost painful. One of Namjoon’s hands goes from your waist to between your legs, cupping you. You gasp back bowing as he presses firmly, deft fingers providing mind-numbing pleasure.

“That feels good.” You fist the collar of his shirt and squeeze your eyes. You feel tense, color exploding behind your closed lids. “Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you want,” he whispers. He pulls you in close, fingers curling. Your hips buck and you realize it isn't enough. You need the barrier of clothes gone. You want it more than anything. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Yes.”

You do know. It’s second nature. You knew even that day in the street when you’d first seen him. Just like Namjoon knows what you want and need, land leaving the apex of your thighs to help you off his lap and onto the bed under him. 

There’s a confidence in his movements that makes the room spin. Long forgotten are the wolf attacks and Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle. Here, it’s only the rasp of your pants against your skin as Namjoon pulls them down. It’s only the heat of his skis as you yank on his tunic, desperate to feel him.

Namjoon does run hot. His skin is burning up as your hands explore his firm chest. He captures your lips again, sucking your bottom lip in his mouth as he spreads your legs open with a knee. You shake under his touch, equal parts eager and stimulated. 

He’s so, so gentle as he caresses your inner thigh. When he brings his fingers to your sticky center, you let out a pitiful whine. Namjoon pauses, fingers pressed to your swollen kiss as he laughs and breaks the kiss, forehead pressed against yours.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout, leaning your head up to bite his chin. “It feels good.”

He gives you a quick kiss. Once. Twice. “Good. I want to make you feel good.” 

Namjoon circles his middle finger lazily around your clit. Your feet press into the bed, hips pulling up off the sheets. It feels amazing, pleasure sparking in your stomach. “That,” you gasp. “I like that.” 

He dips his head down, attaching his mouth to your neck as he teases your cunt. You don’t have to say anything else, Namjoon’s inquisitive fingers learning what makes you squirm and sigh. You’re a mess beneath him, chest heavy, beats of sweat making your shirt cling to you.

You claw at it, pulling it away from you. Namjoon leans up and lets you take it off, eyes dipping as he smiles appreciatively. He combines the efforts of his fingers with his mouth, bending low to catch a pert nipple with his teeth.

“Shit!” you squeak, making him chuckle again.

His fingers circle your clenching hole, pussy leaking onto his fingers. He presses a finger in and you let out a long, quiet whine. The feeling of his finger pressing against your walls is perfect, your cunt clenching as he shallowing thrusts the finger.

Everything he does is perfect. He sucks at your nipple hungrily as he fingers you slowly, making sure to press up inside your cunt in a way that has you seeing stars. Your fingers tangle in his hair, unable to think about anything except his teeth scraping your sensitive bud and your pussy clenching around his finger.

Namjoon is attentive. The heel of his hand presses to your clit and he eases another finger in, slower than the last. He looks up at you, mouth slick with spit to watch your mouth fall open. You nod, urging him further, sound stuck in your throat. 

The wet squelch between your legs as he fucks you with his fingers is obscene. You like it though, driven by the fact that it’s Namjoon doing it. Namjoon who you saved. Namjoon who watched over you. 

You open your eyes and look up at him, cradling his face in your hands. His forehead is damp with sweat from the heat building in the little shack. His skin is flushed and his hair hangs in his face. You pull at his bottom lip with your thumb and he gazes at you, hungry and wild, pupils blown.

Greedy, you pull him to you. The kiss is more teeth than lips, the two of you panting. Your leg hooks around his waist and you nibble his bottom lip, hips rolling to meet his thrusts, an orgasm starting its ascent. 

“I want you,” you breathe against his mouth. Your lips are sore from arduous kissing. “Please.”

He kisses you. “Okay.”

It’s that simple. You ask for it and he gives it to you.

Namjoon retracts his fingers from your cunt. You feel the sudden loss, fidgeting as you wait. He makes quick work of his pants, kneeling on the bed and bringing his hands covered in your juice to pump his cock. You feel your eyes bulge at his thick length. 

He notices and grins, slowing his movements. You watch as his hand smears precum down his shaft, twisting lightly as he gets to the top, his thumb brushing over his dark tip. “You can take it,” he pants, grinning wolfishly. “I know you can.”

Instead of answering, you nod, lifting your hips eagerly. He hums, pleased as he lets go, cock bobbing heavily while he shuffles over and leans over you. He places his hands on either side of your head, arms flexing as he holds his weight to bend down and steal a quick kiss. 

You kiss back feverishly, one hand traveling between your sweaty bodies to grip his length, trying to stroke him the way he did. He sighs, breaking the kiss and dropping his forehead against your chin as a shiver ripples through him. You smile, continuing to pump him.

“Want to be inside,” he mumbles, barely coherent. 

You open yourself up more, gently guiding the blunt crown of his cock toward your trembling entrance. You hold your breath as his hips follow your hand, breaching your ring of tight muscles and pushing in. 

Immediately your muscles spasm and resist, overwhelmed by Namjoon’s girth. You blow out a long breath as he enters you so, so slowly. It’s heaven and it’s hell, it’s pleasure and it’s pain. Namjoon presses his mouth to you, tongue distracting you as he bottoms out, stuffing you full.

Nothing has ever compared to how stretched you are. He doesn’t move, letting your cunt twitch around him. He holds himself up with one hand, the other brushing up and down your side, squeezing bits of flesh comfortingly as you try to still your beating heart under him.

The pain fades. You get greedy, wiggling your hips back and forth experimentally to feel the way Namjoon’s cock rubs against your walls. He blows out air sharply, a half laugh before his hand drops down to your hip, pushing you down into the bed with his weight as he slides backward.

“Ohhhh,” you sigh, head lolling to the side. The pressure of Namjoon pressing you down as he sets a slow pace of fucking into you is just right. You close your eyes, letting him set a slow pace in silence. “Yeah.” 

Namjoon’s breath is unsteady. Every little sound he makes sets you on fire. You’re pliant beneath him as he picks up his speed, properly fucking into you. One of your hands reaches up to grab his bicep, nails digging in, the other shooting to his hand on your hip, squeezing his wrist. 

Everything feels right. Connected. Overheated. The air is so thick you think you might suffocate, sheets sticking to your balmy skin, toes curling as Namjoon’s cock hits that spot inside of you that drives you mad. 

Nothing but this matters. Nothing but knowing your wolf isn’t really a wolf at all, and that he’s been there all along. Just like you’d hoped. 

“Fuck,” Namjoon pants. “I never dreamed I’d have you.”

“I dreamed of you,” you gasp on a particularly hard thrust, your nails dragging down his arm. “I just didn’t know it.”

His mouth crashes to yours. “Mine,” he growls. “My savior, mine to protect.” 

Your orgasm spins like an out-of-control spool of thread, winding tighter and tighter. Namjoon can tell, chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, throwing his gentle movements out the window and fucking you hard into the bed. 

The sounds and words coming out of your mouth are useless babble, your thoughts turning murky as that spool tightens so much inside of you that it bursts, unspooling and spilling out of you around Namjoon’s cock. 

You can’t even breathe as you come, feet kicking, nails digging into his skin, teeth clenched. Your heart beats in your ears, the only thing you can hear for a few seconds as you spasm, eyes clenched shut. You are vaguely aware of Namjoon coming shortly after you, your name ripping through clenched teeth as he does. 

There are a few minutes of nothing punctuated by your stilted breathing and rapid pulse. Finally, you blink, stars swimming in your eyes as you look at Namjoon, who hangs his head on your chest. You reach a hand up and run your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Your wolf. Somehow you’d always known it. Even when you thought you were crazy. 

Gently, Namjoon pulls out of you, fluid spilling between your legs. You don’t care, limbs too heavy to move. Your skin is still burning up from exertion and you roll your head to the side to watch Namjoon as he lays next to you, pulling you toward him. 

For a little while, it’s quiet. You listen to the beating of his heart, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You’re content just to lay there feeling whole just for once. 

After a while, Namjoon sighs. “You have to go back eventually.”

“We.”

“Hmm?”

“We have to go back.”

Namjoon pulls away and frowns at your tone, eyes reading your face. Your mouth is set in a firm line and you look at him with all seriousness. “We’re not letting them get away with what the humans did to you and your family.”

“You want to help?”

“Yes.” You pause. “I think it’s what my father would have wanted. It’s what I want. Even if Yoongi bit me.”

“Yoongi will never bite you again,” he vows fiercely. Then, a little more gently, “But he… would be glad to hear your sympathetic stance. I’m glad to hear it, Red.”

“Good.” You snuggle closer. “You’re mine to protect too. And I will make them pay.”

For Namjoon. For your father. You’ll paint the village red. 

[kwanisms]

Hello dear readers, it's September which means Kinktober is almost upon us. I have planned for the full 31 days this time, taking my old Kinktober from last year, reorganizing and reworking it to make something new! Details and taglist below the cut!

For this year, I will be writing for all of:

Seventeen

Stray Kids

Ateez

I will also be including the Choi Line of TXT as well as DPR Ian & Woosung of the Rose! The kink prompts, creature list (yes, she's also a Creature Feature!), and dialogue prompts (there are two extra and you'll learn why as you read further) for each day is listed below but the idol will be kept a secret until the day of! Don't worry, if you want to read for only one or two but do not want to be tagged in ALL of the Kinktober pieces, you can sign up for only the groups you want to read for. When filling out the taglist, you will be able to select who you want to be tagged in. Check out the prompts below and the taglist will be linked at the very bottom of the post!

Dialogue Prompts

"Don't cover your mouth. I want everyone to hear how good I make you feel."

"Sit on my face."

"Make me" + "God, you're so beautiful when you're fucked out under us."

"I haven't even touched you yet and you're already wet."

"Good boys get rewarded, so behave."

"Is that my shirt?"

"I'm not jealous. It's just that... you're mine."

"I love it when you cry." + "What do you mean you've never cum from sex?" + "Your panties are soaked already."

"Oh no. Not until you beg."

Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that?"

"I'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you."

"I'm going to have you screaming by the end of the night."

"Lay back and touch yourself, I'm going to watch."

"Aw darling, I almost believe you."

Do you really think you're in a position to give orders?"

"I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my-"

"You look so good on your knees."

"I promise I'll be gentle."

"Baby, I asked you a question so if you know what's good for you, you'd better answer me."

"Yell at me again and I'll give you a reason to scream."

"Come here, I'll show you how to make yourself feel good."

"I'm bored, let's fuck."

"Have you never been touched like this before?"

"What? Does that feel good?"

"Baby... you need me that badly?"

Tell me you love me."

"We can't do that here! What if someone sees us?"

"You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now."

"Why are you shaking? You're not scared of me, are you?"

"Were not just friends and you fucking know it."

"Don't act so innocent, I heard you."

The taglist will most likely close at the end of this month, or it might extend into the first week of October. We'll see how it goes but for now, the taglist is open!

[authorhjk1]

Aloha! Since I hardly find any of her fics here, here's hoping Krystal can make the cut so here are some choices if you may:

For the first outfit was hoping it could make the cut the most since if you look at it closely it is a one piece dress but buttoned up, for the second outfit I mean, look at that body sheesh and for the third a simple one.

https://kpopping.com/documents/54/2/2000/220405-H-Naver-Post-Krystal-ELLE-D-Edition-Photoshoot-Behind-documents-13.jpeg?v=1fb1e

https://kpopping.com/documents/a0/1/2992/240507-Krystal-Jung-Baeksang-Arts-Awards-2024-documents-1(1).jpeg?v=8dcd4

https://kpopping.com/documents/58/0/4500/Krystal-Jung-for-Vogue-Korea-March-2024-Issue-Vogue-Leader-2024-Woman-Now-documents-8.jpeg?v=2799c

Midnight

(Krystal Jung X Male Reader)

You're smiling from ear to ear as you walk through the building. You can't believe this is happening.

"It seems like you really want one of these."

Krystal's teasing tone makes you turn around to her. But before you can, her hands sneak around your waist and she presses her body up against yours from behind. Her chin landing on your shoulder.

"Y-Yes. This one."

You point at the car at the far end of the dealership. You've always wanted this car. Ever since you saw it online for the first time. You can't believe you're about to own it. You're barely nineteen years old and you just got your driver's license. But now you're walking to a midnight black Lamborghini Aventador.

You never checked out the price, because you expected to never be able to have enough money to buy one of these. But now it almost feels like you won the lottery.

"Are you sure you want this one?"

Krystal isn't as much into cars as you are, so she usually goes for classy and expansive over horse power and speed. The silver Rolls Royce parked outside is proof enough of that.

"This is my dream car."

"Then get in and try it out."

Krystal gives you a kiss on the cheek, before you hear heels klick on the floor as she walks away.

You carefully reach out to touch the hood. Six months ago, you would've been too afraid to even touch this car. But you don't have to worry about breaking anything. Krystal could buy every single car in this building, if she wanted to. You don't know how much money she really does have, but the first thing you did after coming home that fateful day, was researching the name Krystal Jung. The richest person in Korea. The fifth wealthiest person in Asia and maybe even one of the richest women on this planet.

Sitting down in the driver's seat, you let your hands wander over the steering wheel. It feels comfortable. It feels perfect. It feels better than you thought it would.

You tear your eyes off the car's dashboard as you hear Krystal approaching again. Her black dress matches the car and shows off her slim waist. It hugs her body like it was only designed for her and nobody else. Which is what probably happened. You doubt anyone else owns this exact dress. Maybe a cheap copy of it.

You hold your breath as Krystal stops in front of you, a car key in her hand.

"Do you want to take your new car for a drive?"

"Oh my god. Thank you so much."

You don't even dare to reach for the key. How much did Krystal just spent on you?

"Like I already said, you don't have to thank me for the stuff I buy you. It's just money."

She puts the key into your hand, before walking around to the passenger side.

Once she is seated, her arm sneaks around your shoulders, her lips right next to your ear.

"Let's take your new car for a drive along the coast."

Her free hand glides over your thigh as she reaches for your crotch.

"You can repay me by making use of that hood."

She nods towards the front of the car.

The cold midnight air hits your face as you test out the car's limits. Krystal's hair flies after her in the wind. The roaring of the engine almost makes it impossible to talk. You glance at the dashboard. 300 kph. The road doesn't have any corners in it right now, so you can drive as fast as you want. No one else is around.

You let the Lamborghini come to a hold as you reach the top of the cliff. It's not yet time for the sunrise, but the stars make the night sky bright enough. You have to peel your shaking hands off the wheel. You've never gone that fast in your life.

"That big smile on your face says a lot."

Krystal's hair is messy, but that might make her even more attractive.

"Show me how much you really enjoyed it."

You lean over and capture her lips with yours. The two of you make out in the car as your and her hands explore each other's bodies. You feel her naked waist under your fingertips, while Krystal lets her fingers graze your abs underneath your shirt.

You don't have to work and earn money or anything. Krystal has only two basic requirements for you to make this relationship work. Stay as healthy and fit as possible and make her cum more often then she can count. You work out every single day, eat healthy and go for a lot of runs. You already did it before you met her, but the amount of time you are know putting into your body makes it impossible for Krystal to keep her hands off you.

After your make out session in the car, you now kneel in front of it, after having Krystal bend over the hood. Just like she wanted.

Her dress is still occupying the passenger seat, while her naked body is pressed against the black surface.

"That's a good boy."

Krystal moans into the hood as your tongue invades her slick pussy again and again. You knead her cheeks as you hold onto them. She loves it when you worship her body just as much as when she worships yours.

"Oh, fuck! Almost!"

After six months of almost three times a day, you have Krystal completely figured out. It doesn't take much effort anymore to make her cum.

And you can tell how close she is, if you read the signs well enough. Her thighs begin to shake. Her moans become just a little higher. More swear words leave her lips. And more of her juices would run down her thighs, if it wasn't for you, eagerly licking every inch of her skin.

Your name leaves her lips in a deep moan, right before a high pitched cry echoes through the night. Krystal orgasms on top of the car. Her naked body pressed against the hood. Most of her squirt lands inside your mouth, but some finds it's way onto the car, staining the black materials.

While she recovers, you stand up and align your cock with her pussy. You're still hard and wet from her blowjob in the car mere minutes ago. You can't even keep track anymore on how often Krystal sucked you off, sitting in the passenger seat or at the back.

"That's right. Fill me with that cock of yours."

Krystal sighs as you push into her. Slow love making is a rare sight in your relationship. Mainly because it isn't a relationship based on love. Krystal is pleasant to be around, but she sometimes feels like she is from another world. Her money, her influence, her age. None of it matches your own personality. And yet, here you are, taking Krystal's pussy from behind.

"You're such a good boy. A good little toy."

Her endless praises fuel your desire to fuck her harder and harder. As much as you like Krystal dominating you, it doesn't compare to the feeling of being in control yourself. To have this beautiful woman bend over in front of you. How she takes your cock so well. How she moans your name and praises your cock.

You eventually start to grow tired. The small sex marathon on board of her plane two hours ago still lingering inside your muscles. Krystal usually isn't the type to have a lot of sex at once, due to her busy schedule. But a four hour flight in her private jet makes you work overtime.

You finally sink down on top of her, your face buried in her naked back as your cock rests deep inside her pussy. Krystal's tits and the rest of her body are being pressed against the hood of the car due to your weight.

"Yes, baby."

She sighs, enjoying the unusually slow fucking you now give her. Her snug pussy is enough to make you cum. It doesn't matter how fast you fuck her. Even if you only move at a slow pace, it manages to make you fill her up.

"Krystal..."

You kiss and lick her sweaty neck as you close your eyes. The cold midnight air roams your naked body on top of hers as you release your cum into her pussy.

-----------

Hi, everyone!

I hope you a had a good time reading. After deciding on this concept, I cose the black dress, because I think it fits the most. If you want me to write her in the blue one, feel free to request again, I will put it on my list.

[greycaelum]

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Welcoming }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Genre: pregnancy journey, parenthood

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (4.4k)—/suggestive hints, pregnant reader, labor, fluff, domesticity, subtle talks of clan matters, dad satoru, set on winter—/

𑁍 A/N: this took a while because—my holiday turned to a rollercoaster of events and gatherings, anyways happy 2024~ everyone! let me take you to the first chapter of this year~ ☕︎✍︎,

WEEK 10: Kumquat

"Oh... you bought a kumquat? Did you go to the grocery, Love?"

Satoru looked up from the net of kumquat he bought and shuffled towards you, leaning down excitedly to litter butterfly kisses on your tummy.

"How are you, my babies? Did you miss Dada? Bet you missed me more though?" Satoru stood up and grinned at you. "You're 10 weeks, Honey, our babies here are as big as kumquats!"

You can't burst his bubble when he is sparkling in excitement as he leans back down and kisses your belly over and over and over until you get annoyed by the smooching sounds and pull him up. Satoru pulls you up to still on the kitchen stall while he peels some kumquat for you. He pushes a bowl with three peeled kumquats.

"Two kumquats for my sunshines and one for my pretty wifey, hehe, imagine, they're so tiny like this... and and... they're all curled up and..." He started mumbling as he giggled tracing patterns over your still small belly while you ate a piece of the kumquat.

"Don't start Satoru." You can't help but reign him down before he starts something.

"Try me." He giggled and kissed you, sneaking a lick to taste the kumquat zest on your lips.

WEEK 12: Lime

"Mama! Mama! We bought you a green orange!" Saika ran towards you as you joined in their stroll after Satoru told you they were in the shopping district just near the meeting you had. She collided with your leg and grinned up to you.

"A green orange? You mean a lime, sweetie?" You took the net with three limes inside. Bending down to kiss her is starting to be taxing with your growing belly that's a bit bigger than normal since you're having two of them inside.

"Papa said sunshines are as big as limes. When are they gonna get big enough so we can play with them, Mama?" Kouki held your hand as Satoru subtly kissed your forehead before taking your bag.

"We're gonna wait until winter, maybe by then our lil' sunshines here will be ready by then."

"Winter?! That's too long!" Saika bemoaned making you and Satoru laugh.

"Believe me, sweetie, it'll fly by."

WEEK 14: Peach

"Look what I haveeeee~" You didn't have to turn around as your feet were swept off the ground.

"Hey! 'Toru?! Put me down!"

Satoru giggled and pushed you up the counter standing between your legs to kiss your belly.

"Our babies here are as big as these peaches~" On his hand, there's a clutch of three peaches. "Lemme peel them first. Bet you missed me the whole day."

"Of course... I did not."

He held his heart and feigned death before chuckling as he peeled the sticky peach.

"How was the clan meeting? I heard they've been a pain in the ass regarding the new education system for the kids in the clan?"

You hummed and held your belly while he opened the fruit, and there were two seeds inside. "Love, keep those seeds and have someone plant them in our villa at the estate."

"Why?" Satoru looks up to you in curiosity.

"Nothing much, it's a good omen." You shrug. "Anyway, the kids in the estate like the idea of it, but you know the elders, I understand that they worry that more and more kids in the Gojo clan would prefer to work in civilian jobs rather than the jujutsu society. I'm still gauging on what extent this will benefit the clan but mostly it'll end up compromising some of the kids with higher potential with their curse energy."

Satoru placed the bowl with three slices of peaches in it.

"I'll drop by the estate training grounds tomorrow, have the kids come around for a light spar." He hums as you bite in the sweet fruit.

"What for?"

"They gotta be strong enough to defend themselves before leaving the nest." He shrugs making you raise a brow. "I'll bring Kou and Sai along, gotta learn whatever they can learn." He chuckles as he hears the kids running down the stairs.

WEEK 16: Avocado

"Honey?! Why didn't you tell me you're coming over? I could've sent someone to pick you up from the foot of the mountain." Satoru shuffled from his seat and rushed to the door where you were standing with a bento box at hand. "You smell so creamy." He buried his nose in the space of your neck taking a good amount of inhale before letting go and looking at you up and down.

"You can't keep me in bed all day besides walking is good for pregnant women." You scrunched your nose at how stuffy his office is. "I brought you lunch too, it's been quite a long time since I dropped by to bring you lunch."

Satoru excitedly opens the bento box you got.

"Oh!!! You made me a tako wiener!" He guffawed at the octopus-shaped sausages you added in the lunch box popping one of them immediately to his mouth and chewing with gusto. "I'm so glad you married me." Behind that blindfold, you could already imagine the puppy eyes he was giving you.

"What the heck?" You chuckled as he started to eat without sitting down.

"Y'know, I bought something for you later, but since you're here, lemme get it for you? Just, sit right here..." He guides you to sit on his super comfy and soft swivel chair while he grabs something from his small fridge hidden from plain sight by a sliding door. "I saw this in the convenience store earlier and thought about you."

He places three rows of sliced avocados in front of you with a small bowl of tuna flakes. Satoru sat on the table facing you—sitting on his chair.

"Just eat as much as you can, I'll eat the rest if you can't finish it."

"And you keep telling me to stay still? If you keep feeding me and not let me work, I'll be a whale." You pouted as you savored the avocado and a bite of the tuna flakes.

"No, you won't be, I'll have you exercise in the bedroom under my supervision." He winks making you kick his shin and he lets out a laugh. "Just kidding, don't be pouty my pretty Mrs. Gojo, okay?"

WEEK 18: Capsicum

"Before you judge me, I have my reason." Satoru took off his apron and sighed.

"Put that apron back on." You sighed, it's one of his tactics in distracting you... wearing nothing on top but just his apron and cotton pants, barefoot in the kitchen with his bedroom hair.

Hormones... You fanned yourself and looked away from the sight of his hard abs and pecs.

"No, and okay, I'll explain." He chuckles, leaning closer to give you a man's eye view of his pecs and abs ridge, stirring your attention on his body rather than the plate before you. "I wasn't sure what to do with the bell pepper, okay? I didn't know if you want to eat spicy food while pregnant so don't judge me if I made it a garnish instead."

"Love..." You bit your lips, you weren't angry or even annoyed, it's just that Satoru didn't happen to like your stifled giggle at his artwork. "You massacred the capsicum..."

"It's a flower! Look these are the petals and the spinach is the leaf." Satoru frowned, reasoning with you as he showed you the YouTube video tutorial, he based his work on. "It looks the same to me."

WEEK 20: Banana

"Banana for you, for me, for you, and you, and those two~" Satoru held two bananas and danced towards you while playfully aiming the banana at you, and the two munchkins cuddled beside you.

"Is it banana week now?" You chuckled and reached to kiss him welcome home as he bent down to accept your kiss with a wide grin.

"Well, our sunshines here must be as big as a banana now." Satoru kneels down and kisses your pointy belly. "You want banana shake, Honey?"

He strips off his dark turtleneck uniform leaving him in his white compression shirt, holding three bananas as he walks to the kitchen.

"Mama..." Kouki opens his eyes from sleep, rising from your lap still somehow a bit groggy.

"Hungry, Sweetheart?" You kissed his forehead making the boy beg for more as he clung to your neck.

"Mama..."

"Mnnn?"

"Mama, Mama, Mama..." He mumbled over and over, hugging you tight and burying his face in your neck.

"My Sweetheart needs some lovin'?" Kouki nods and whines. Your 5-month baby bump proves to be hard to hug your little boy closer so you opted to kiss his face all over and rub his back soothingly. "How was your sleep?" Lately, he's been so sleepy that it's worrying sometimes since he used to hate sleeping when his curse energy was all over the place.

"T'was nice... I dreamt of playing with babies all day... we'll sleep in the crib together... and..." Kouki hums. "It's a good dream."

"Really?" You chuckled before letting him go as he saw his Papa holding a tray of banana shakes.

"Papa!"

"My Kikufuku's awake! Gimme a kiss and a hug, fluffball." Satoru sets the tray on the table before sweeping off his son from your arms and throwing him up in the air giving you a small heart attack as he perfectly catches the boy and blows raspberries on Kouki's tummy much to the boy's delight.

You sighed. Boys will be boys. You satisfied yourself in sipping the banana shake while combing through Saika's long hair while she slept peacefully unbothered by the noise of her father and brother. Halfway through you'll also have your little ones in your arms, joining the huddle filled with love.

WEEK 22: Lebanese Cucumber

"I wasn't sure when I got this but I remember we could enjoy this together." Satoru squirmed a bit with his hand clasped over his stomach. "'s coldddd brrrrr!" He shivered.

"Yeah? Well, I'm not complaining." You chuckled as you put the slices of cucumber over his eyes. Beside him, Saika is lying on her father's leg with cucumber slices over her eyes too.

"You like it, Sweetie?"

"Yes, Mama, will I look pretty like you after this?" She asks confidently.

"You'll be pretty like me Cat." Satoru pipes up, blindly patting his daughter's head.

"I don't want Papa, Mama is prettier."

You could see the pout on Satoru's lips as he whines.

"But you have to take care of your eyes because I love that you and Papa have the same eyes."

That easily blew the pouting between your cats.

"Kouki don't eat that!"

No wonder your son was so silent he was already eating the bowl of cucumber slices behind the bed and ran away when you saw him taking the bowl with him as he laughed.

WEEK 24: Ear of Corn

"Grilled."

"Stir-fried."

"Grilled!"

"Kikufuku, it's better to grill corn."

"No, Papa, we need stir fry."

"Mama!"

"Baby!"

They chorused and looked at you.

"Me?" You look up from the corn pudding Satoru's mother sent over. You wiped your mouth and cleared your throat.

"Mama, I want stir-fried corn." Kouki immediately ran to you and hugged your leg, blinking up to you with his puppy eyes.

"Honey, grilled corn is better, I promise you." Satoru took off his blindfold and also flashed you his puppy eyes."

"Why don't you just make both? Grilled and the other stir fry?" You hummed.

"No way... I'm tired." Satoru pouted.

"Mama... I want stir fry, pleaseeeeeeeeee."

Really... you gotta do what the light of the house does.

"Let's have some corn soup. So, no one fights."

WEEK 26: Green Onion

"How are you feeling?" Satoru opens the door with a tray in his hand.

Your body feels so heavy and your nose is clogged up, to put it simply you're feeling under the weather.

"Must be from working in the backyard all afternoon." Satoru sets the tray beside you and helps you up to sit. "The kids are asleep, I need to go out for a bit for work, I'll be back by 9 o'clock." He gets the thermometer to check your temperature.

"38.2... should I change your fever patch?"

"No..." You shook your head and opened your mouth for the egg drop porridge he made with lots of green onions on top.

"Should we... go to the doctor? Or I can make the doctor come here." Satoru blows on the spoon before feeding it to you. He looks tame and gentle with how he cares for you.

"It's fine... it'll go down by tomorrow." Hopefully... your pregnancy with Kouki and Saika was fairly smooth, even though Saika was a bit harder without Satoru and that incident with the Tachibana Clan, still... those pregnancies were still easy compared to now.

You feel twice the effect at the same time, so much heavier that even walking for 10 minutes is physically taxing already. There are nights when you are simply restless, unable to sleep with the heat pooling in your body despite the full-blast aircon.

You tried to reach for your phone on the bedside when something constricted.

"Ouch!" Your leg stiffened as you tried to flex your feet.

"Lemme..." Satoru quickly put down the bowl and held your cramping feet, easing the muscles.

"Gently..." You hissed at the crawling tightness in your muscles as you gasped for air.

"There, there... still hurts?" Satoru looks up to you as he gently massages the muscles to loosen up.

"A bit..." a sigh left you as your cramps gradually subsided.

"Hey, Honey..." Satoru took you in his arms and rubbed your back. "It's okay, you're good. It's going to be alright."

You listened to the way he breathes, following Satoru's calm breathing as you also calm down.

"Will you come back soon?"

"Baby, I'll be back by 9 or even before 9," Satoru assures you, pressing kisses to your head. "Want me to bring you some fried chicken from that new kaarage place you mentioned last time?

You shook your head and stared at the bowl of egg rice porridge, and the glass with tall green onions inside.

"What's that for?" You pointed to the green onion.

"I asked Mom—your Mom—what to do with cold and she said to wrap a green onion around your neck, but I can't do that to you." Satoru grimaced at the thought. "So I put it in a glass and put it in your bedside so you can sleep better instead. Hopefully, it works."

"Did you really have to call Mom?" You can't help but find it amusing. 

"Of course, who else am I supposed to call?" He grumbles and feeds you another spoonful.

"Funny because remember that one time you got a really bad case of diarrhea?"

Satoru gave you a dry look at bringing that event again.

"What about it? It's not funny, that expired bread was so good even though it was already bad."

"That time I also called your mother what to do about you."

WEEK 28: Eggplant

"Mama, did you know that if Papa dyes his hair green he will look like an eggplant?"

You let out a strangled choke to keep the orange juice you are drinking from spurting out your mouth. Your daughter has another strange observation once again. You're sitting on the couch watching some horror movie together.

"Don't say that to your Papa, he will sulk." You hum as you eat the doughnuts.

"But he always wears his weird long uniform, he should wear our new shark onesies," Saika pouts.

"I think Papa looks very handsome in his uniform though." Makes it a bit easier to hide his body from any possible homewreckers. But you didn't say the last part.

"Papa! Mama said you look handsome!" Saika giggled and ran behind the kitchen wall where Satoru was grinning ear to ear his arms were on his back as Saika clung to her Papa's leg, giggling.

"You little snitch." You chuckled as Saika ran to hug you back on the couch and Satoru got on one knee before you and cleared his throat. He brought his hand forward and offered you a basket filled with eggplants.

"Will you have my eggplant?"

"What the heck?" You laughed and took the basket from him.

"So your answer?" He grins and caged you between his arms on the couch. Saika giggled and ran upstairs talking to her brother about having some stir-fried eggplant for dinner.

"You're so obscene." You chuckled at the three big eggplants in the basket. "It's a yes, isn't it obvious?" You cradled your heavy belly.

"Right..." Satoru laughed and kissed you. "Got you pregnant with my eggplant eh?"

You end up taping his mouth as you cook some fried eggplants for dinner.

WEEK 30: Cabbage

"You're buying too much."

You watch him keep adding to cart maternity dresses to the cart. It's the kind of dresses that cost above than what you would spend on clothes. You don't have to say much knowing how much he spends on his T-shirt which you don't complain much, Satoru spends a lot but he makes a lot besides the bank account used for the spending in the home is enough to maintain everything.

"But you will look cute in these dresses." Satoru hums his hand resting on your hips while the other scrolled through the iPad on his knee.

"You know that I won't get to wear that much anyway because I'm due in two or three months. Besides, my gifts from friends and family were more than enough." You lay your head on his shoulder, watching him scroll for a new baby clothes set.

"It's okay, we can always have them fixed so you can wear them after. But for now, as much as possible you can have as many dresses as you can choose from." Satoru kissed your forehead and added.

The doorbell rang and Kouki ran to get it followed by Satoru. When they went back they holding a grocery bag.

"For our sunshines and Mommy!" Satoru walks inside and Kouki runs to give you the long bag.

"What's this?" You chuckled seeing three big cabbages inside of the bag.

"We're having okonomiyaki tonight, like it?"

"Okonomiyaki? With cabbage?"

"Yes, just wait here, I'll make dinner."

You didn't complain as you watched him make his way through the kitchen, wearing an apron as he skilfully chopped through the ingredients he was going to use, soon Kouki came over to help with well, sneaking some bites of the carrots and shredded cabbage.

"We don't have a teppan." You sighed as you stood up, holding your heavy belly as you walked to them, kissing Kouki's head as you stood beside him.

"I'll use the regular pan." Satoru hums and finishes making the batter of the pancake.

"I can't wait for my baby sister and brother, Mama. Do you think they will like the squishmallow I bought?" Kouki kissed your belly and rubbed it gently.

"They will love it." You assured him.

Satoru gave you the first sample of his pancake which you took a bite and gave a thumbs up.

"It's very yummy, Honey."

"I promise I will be a good brother to you too sunshine..." Kouki rested his chin on your belly and grinned at you.

WEEK 32: Small Pumpkin

"I can't believe I'm currently having two babies this big inside."

You marveled at the small pumpkins Satoru gave you.

"How are they? Did they kick you or anything?" Satoru rubbed your belly and kissed you before bringing the three pumpkins he brought to the kitchen and went to the common bathroom to change.

"Not really, they were very good." You caressed your bump and smiled. "What are we gonna do with those pumpkins?"

"C'mere, Baby." Satoru pulled down his shirt and opened his arms for you. "Anything you want to do with it?"

"Mnn, not really." You inhaled his scent and gave him a thumbs up. He smells nice.

"Y'know my students are asking why I smell like the dishwashing liquid. And I have to explain that we don't have detergent liquid because I don't want them to know you don't like my smell."

You laughed, rubbing your face in his chest inhaled his scent, and put your hand on his waist making him squeal in tickles.

"Don't start." He bit your ears in exchange and hugged you tight before you could escape. "My mother sent a pumpkin pie for you, she said you called last time about wanting some pumpkin pie."

"She did?" You chuckled and looked at the side looking for the box of pie.

"Yeah, don't worry I tasted it and there's nothing in it just... pumpkin."

"What the heck?" You laughed. "Of course, there's pumpkin, last time Mother also made a coconut pie for me, it was delicious."

"Mama! Mama! It's so yummy!" Saika came running from the kitchen with some crumbs on her lips with her brother trailing behind holding a plate of the pie slice.

"You want one Ma?" Kouki offered you the slice.

You accepted the slice and ruffled your son's head for thanks.

WEEK 34: Cantaloupe Melon

"That's big..." You stared in awe at the cantaloupe he just brought home.

"Want a shake, Baby?" Satoru hums.

"Yes please, it's so hot here."

Satoru looked at the aircon already in full swing.

"Mnn..." Satoru pulled the blender out and started prepping the ice and cream. "Baby, I've been thinking... You're now close to your due date and we should probably stay in the Gojo Estate for now."

You look up to him.

"Or maybe in the hospital itself," Satoru added.

"I'm fine, Love..."  You sighed. "There could be someone more in need of the room I will be staying in the hospital and besides, I feel more comfortable in our home."

"But, Baby... this is not your usual pregnancy... I can't sit still at work worrying about you..." Satoru stopped making shake and walked over to you, holding your hand as he brought it to his lips. "Please? If you don't want the hospital, then the house in the villa... It's near the main house where the machines needed for childbirth are ready. 

"But I wanna stay here, I even starting a little cuddle nest here." Sure you did and it was in the kids' nursery room. You pouted and looked up to Satoru.

"I'll stay in the hospital three days before my due date or maybe in the villa, okay? If ever I feel something is off I will go there as soon as possible but not for now. Okay?"

Satoru sighed and nodded, accepting the peck you gave him.

"Okay... Still want that melon shake?"

"Yes!"

WEEK 36: Romaine Lettuce

"We're having yakiniku tonight!" Satoru held three bunches of romaine lettuce as he barged in the door only to find you on the couch with the two kids by your side holding two bags... the unmistaken baby bags he packed himself.

"Oh, what's this?" Satoru put the grocery bag on the table and looked at the three of you. "What happened, Baby?"

"We're having the babies I think~"

Satoru gasped and the two munchkins giggled.

"Then why are we still here?! Wait, where do you want to go? Hospital? Villa?" Satoru stood up.

He grabbed the bags and kneeled to put on your shoes.

"I don't think I'm going to give birth yet, besides my water didn't break yet." You held the hem of his shirt. "I will go to the hospital..."

You know more than anyone that this pregnancy and childbirth will be different from the previous one you had. You don't want to ever take the risk despite knowing Satoru will never hesitate to ensure all your needs are met, and yet it is better to be in the hospital since this is an uncanny situation you have...

"We're going now, kids you'll have to stay with your grandparents." Satoru barely listened as he called someone and soon enough the car rolled up to get you both.

"Satoru, breathe Love." You chuckle when you feel he's barely breathing as he holds you.

"I am. What do you think I'm doing?" He huffs. Sweat beads were forming on his temples

"I dunno, you're not breathing when you're holding me." It's one of the few times he's genuinely panicked for a bit.

"Right, doesn't matter, let's go." He huffs and closes the door.

"What's gonna happen to the romaine lettuce?" You raise a brow.

"I dunno! All I know is that's supposed to be the size of our baby coming out of you."

WEEK 38: Mini Watermelon

"Love, I want a watermelon."

"Baby, you're in labor." Satoru stood up from the couch offered by the hospital and went to your bedside. He took your hand in his. "I could go ask the doctor if it's okay..."

"We've been here since last week's Friday and it's Thursday now... I deserve to eat before my active labor starts Satoru."

You didn't have to tell him twice with how your eyes narrowed. He swallowed before nodding.

"I'll ask someone to buy—"

"No, I want you to buy it."

"Baby!"

"Sa.To.Ru."

"Fine..." His imaginary tail fell down and his shoulders slackened. "What if you give birth and I won't be there?"

"Do I look like I'm giving birth in the following hour?" You pointed to your belly as he helped you sit on the bed. "I feel like I could do cartwheels and the babies would still be sleeping in my womb. Besides, the watermelons are just in the cafeteria, just 10 or 20 minutes and you'll be back here."

Satoru looked at you doubtfully but followed your cravings.

"I'll be back, sit tight, okay?" He walks to the door, like a kicked pup. "You call me okay? Or the nurse."

"I know, I know, go already." You waved to shoo him out. When he's out you finally stand up, somehow walking around the private room for a bit to move your muscles. Kouki and Saika have been very excited to meet their sibling, especially Kouki who kind of remembers that you also had to stay in the hospital for some time before you gave birth to Saika.

Your OB doctor decided not to induce you at 36 weeks since your other baby who is still developing might be affected, instead, you all decided to wait it out since you are still in your prodromal labor. At this rate, you might even give birth at full term to both of them... It's 4 in the afternoon already.

You reach for your water jug on the table. It's a bit heavy. You drank a bit. Some spilled down... and some more... and more...

You looked down at your legs and the puddle of trickling water on the floor.

"Satoru!"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan @patat-gurl

[freyito]

"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ & ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ

✧ a/n: can't believe my first piece of 2024 is a part 2 to this booby fic... but goddamn i need my head in kenshis boobies rn. it'd make everything better...

🗒 cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs, bonus points!, not proofread

✎ wc: 750

⎯ Johnny Cage

Good GOD does Johnny love burying his face in your chest any time he can. He mainly does it when he's had a bad day. It's a great way to destress, he says. He promises there's nothing more to it. And he's right.

Sure, Johnny can be provocative and that charm doesn't exactly disappear. But seriously, this is like way too comforting for him. The stress of directing, making something worth it, it all dissolves when he's face first in your chest.

And he talks. He talks and talks. Will not stop yapping. His entire day, whatever he's done, something about movies. Every word muffled because he refuses to leave, or even lift his head off your chest.

So, when you return home after a particularly bad day, you decided to try Johnny's method of destressing. Johnny's on the couch, watching The Princess Bride for like the 27th time. It's the perfect time to strike. And strike you do.

Before he can properly welcome you home, your face is pressed between his tits within seconds. Sweet, sweet heaven. You understand now. You understand everything. Your stress dissipates, tensions of the day gone, immediately.

You can barley hear Johnny giggling and joking, you're too caught up in a euphoric daze. You only lift your head when it feels like you can't breathe. Johnny stares down at you with the biggest knowing grin ever. He's not gonna make fun of you, even with that hint of mischief in his eyes.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi is disciplined, he likes to think. So he doesn't he really even think about burying his face in your chest. On top of that, he's pretty busy. The OIA, the Taira, the Yakuza... it's a lot. You don't seem him at home much.

However, in those rare moments he gets with you, some time's he'll lay his head on your stomach or your thighs. He enjoys the kind of connection, some sort of contact after a hard day of work. It grounds him.

But oh, come on. We've seen how big this guy is. Massive tits. C'mon. It takes you a while to build up the courage to go for it. But when he's wearing tank tops, compression shirts, etc... it's so hard to restrain yourself.

Kenshi KNOWS. Sometimes he does it on purpose. But when you start stalking him, keeping your distance, plotting... he wonders what's gotten into you. He makes it a game, kind of. But you're winning. As hard as he's trying to keep up with you.

You find the perfect time to execute your plan. You two are cuddled up late into the night, savoring the rare moment of touch. Without warning, you seize your chance. You roll over onto his chest, head first into those big naturals. Silence cascades over the both of you. Oh, it's even better than you imagined it. Soft... warm... inviting... it's a shame he keeps them hidden. Kenshi doesn't know how to react. Eventually, after several minutes of agonizing silence (and pure bliss between this guys pillows), he finally wraps his arms around you and even pulls you a bit closer.

⎯ Hanzo Hasashi

Hanzo also considers himself controlled. He's above acts like that. Or so he thinks. He won't outright plank into your chest, but when there's downtime, he quite enjoys laying on your chest, with your arms around him. Reading a book or something. That's just the way he likes to wind down.

We've all seen the side-boobage on this man though. Untapped market right there. It'd be a shame NOT to put your head between those pecs. Like, it'd be a sin not to.

One night, during some much needed time alone, you find yourself wrapped up in Hanzo's arms. It's a quiet night, he's finding it hard to fight off sleep. He's been busy, and it's been a hell of a week for him.

His defenses are down, so you take up the opportunity. Awkwardly, you wiggle in his arms, flipping from your back to your face. What awaits you is reminiscent of the gates of heaven. God, you could live like this.

Hanzo's mind is fried, so he doesn't quite understand. To him, you feel more like a weighted blanket. Which ends up making it even harder to stay awake. He's trying to savor every moment with you, but sleep is quickly catching up with him. Waking up to you still resting your head on his pecs however... part of him is glad he was too tired to understand.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[writingforstraykids]

Pls share your soft thoughts for Felix!!

Oh Lix, I do have some soft thoughts on him. Also thank you to @zehina and @atinyniki for sharing some ideas🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix thrives on skin contact, he'd stay right in your arms forever if he could. If you're comfortable with long hugs, subtle touches, holding his hand, or playing with his hair, then you become the source of his energy. He comes to you when he needs to recharge. He hugs you tight, plants himself on top of you, or holds your hand for hours. It doesn't really matter as long as he can feel your presence, your body warm against his.

If none of you is on a diet, he'll shower you with tasty goods. He can't stop spoiling you by baking all sorts of things you love so much. He has accepted his fate, getting called "Brownie boy" by you whenever he ends up in the kitchen baking. Felix knows how much you love those brownies and cookies, so of course, he always keeps some around. What's even better is if you join him, helping him mix the batter and making a mess with him between giggles and playful fights.

Felix is an enthusiastic gamer. The first time you ask him to play with him, he is over the moon for you. He shows you the basics and thinks you're even sweeter than before. If you don't feel like playing yourself, he enjoys keeping you in his lap, claiming you're his lucky charm. He might've cried a little when you offered to help him build his own equipment.

Lix's soft soul is something that needs to be protected, and he hasn't met many people who are as protective of him as you are. He lets you in, allows himself to be open about his feelings with you, and knows you'd never judge him for anything. You're his safe place when he feels like everything is crumbling down around him.

Felix's smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. The way his freckles seem to crawl up into his eyes, illuminating them like stars painting the night sky, steals your breath every time. He's so genuine and easily smiling whenever he watches you doing the most basic things, it makes you swoon.

Lix can get a little emotional at times, never fully believing he deserves the love he receives from his friends, fans, and especially not you. Whenever those big, soft eyes fill with tears, he comes to you, gently tugging at your sleeve and curling up in your arms without any further explanation. He doesn't have to because you already know.

That is why whenever you're upset or feel undeserving of love, his heart breaks with yours. He pulls you into his arms, kisses your hair and fondles your head, gently rocking you in his arms. He whispers little secrets and sweet nothings into your ear, trying to show you how much you mean to him. He knows he isn't the problem here, but it wrecks him thinking you'd even consider him not loving you.

You're in love with that stunning face and Lix knows it. It hasn't happened only once you've made him sit on the counter to do his makeup. You love those little moments, accentuating your boyfriend's natural beauty like that. He loves letting you paint his lips, adorn his eyes with glittery eyeshadow or go wild with little stick-on gems below his eyes. You always wear such a happy smile on your face he would never deny you these small moments.

Lix loves shopping with you, since he obviously wants to look his best for you and spoil you at the same time. So buying new fits together is always fun. He gets to know your taste in clothing better and sometimes you surprise him with a color or piece of clothing he would've never thought of wearing before. The joy in your eyes when you find something for him makes him melt into a puddle right there.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits

[evermoresqueiswriting]

dance the night

"Baby, you can find me under the lights Diamonds under my eyes Turn the rhythm up, don't you wanna just Come along for the ride? Oh, my outfit so tight You can see my heartbeat tonight I can take the heat, baby, best believe That's the moment I shine"

summary: barbie date and an invitation from clarisse you can't refuse

pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader

word count: 3.4k

tags: fluff fluff fluff

series masterlist 2/?

You were getting more and more comfortable at camp. You were getting along very well with your siblings. Especially Lee and Cornelia, who explained everything – sometimes twice – to you. They also explained to you that if you wanted to leave camp during the summer, you needed to get an authorisation from Mr. D. And Clarisse knew, so she told you to get it since it was your idea to go see that movie. Your siblings told you he rarely gave them away. 

“Mmh. I accept this challenge.”

“It really wasn’t,” Lee said. “It was a piece of information at best.”

You walked, determined, to Mr. D’s office. You didn’t have many arguments, but Cornelia did tell you Mr. D was always looking for campers to give him alcohol even though his father, Zeus, forbade him to drink any. Mr. D was playing cards with Chiron. Maybe it wasn’t the right time, you hesitated before Chiron looked up.

“Yes?” he said, putting his cards down. 

“Mmh,” you froze before staring at your camp director, “I needed to talk to Mr. D, please.”

Chiron turned his face to look at Mr D, and he took off his sunglasses before looking at you.

“What?”

“I need authorisation to leave camp for one day,” you explained firmly. “Please.”

“And why would I give you that?” 

“Because I need it. For next week, the 21st,” you begged.

Mr D stared at you, bored. He was ready to take back his cards, when you shouted, desperately.

“I–I’ll give you alcohol in exchange!” 

“No you will not!” Chiron gave you a hard stare. “Zeus–.”

“I’m desperate, so yes I will.” 

Mr D was still silent. 

“What is this about y/n?” Chiron asked. “Why do you need to leave camp?”

“I– I asked Clarisse on a date. Well,” you faltered. “It’s not exactly a date I don’t think, it’s more like I won a bet, and what I asked for was for us to go see a movie together. So maybe it is? And it would suck for me if I can’t go, when I won the bet you know.”

Chiron and you were both looking at Mr. D, and you had your best puppy eyes for him.

“Still a no for me,” Mr. D took his cards. 

“Please, please, please, please, please!” 

Mr. D shook his head. You sighed, thinking about what to say to try and convince him to let you go. 

“That’s–,” you hesitated before blurting out “such a homophobic thing to do in 2024 to refuse to let us go on a date! Which is what that is… a date, with us girls.”

“What?” Mr. D muttered confused.

“And during pride month? You have no shame. It’s–.”

“Fine, if I give you this authorisation, will you shut up and leave?”

You nodded vigorously. And Mr. D sent you a  flying paper with the snap of a finger, and after reading the paper to make sure it was legit – which did take a few minutes – you ran away in case he changed his mind. The first person you ran into Luke and asked him if he had seen Clarisse. He pointed at the Ares cabin, and told you he saw her go in. 

You walked to her cabin, and knocked, shouting Clarisse’s name over and over again. The door flew open, revealing an annoyed Clarisse.

“Hi,” you smiled. 

Her face softened slightly at your sight, but she still looked at you annoyed, with her arms crossed. 

“What?”

“Guess what?” your hands were in your back, hiding away the piece of paper you got earlier.

“Your boyfriend called your mom to ask her why you ditched him?” 

“What?” you hesitated. “No. First, I don't have a boyfriend, they were all losers in my school. And no girlfriends either for the same reason.”

“Good,” she nodded. “So what was the news then?”

The paper was still held behind your back, you held her gaze a few more seconds before showing her proudly the paper. She looked at the paper, frowning, and then took your paper. You stood there patiently, swinging on your feet, waiting for her to finish reading it at her own pace. 

“How did you get Mr. D to agree to this?” she puts the paper down. 

“It’s a secret. But I’ll tell you if you want to know.”

“Of course I do, no one here in years got one of these,” she shook the paper in front of you. 

You held up your index, and made a ‘come closer’ motion with it. She came closer, and you put your face even closer, her nose almost touching yours. Clarisse was taller than you – taller than most campers actually – and your face was facing up. And having her this close to you, it was as if time had stopped. You smiled. 

“I promised him alcohol,” you whispered. 

“What!” she stepped back. “Do you know Zeus–.”

“I know, I know, Cornelia told me. I don’t remember what I said after that,’ you lied, “I guess he just likes me.”

“Okay,” Clarisse smiled, “liar.”

Clarisse and you stood there, at the threshold of the Ares cabin for a few more moments, just enjoying each other's company before her siblings ran in, pushing you toward Clarisse. Your  body slammed against hers, her arms wrapped around your shoulders to steady you. You would have been upset if it weren’t for the outcome. But Clarisse quickly let go before grabbing the shirt of her brother – Mark – and made him stop in his tracks. You didn’t hear what she said, but you saw Mark nodding vigorously before walking away. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Clarisse grabbed your arm and led you outside. 

“So,” you started when she stopped under a tree and sat there. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“No. Do you?”

“Uh obviously! I have the perfect outfit for Barbie. I actually planned this before coming here, minus the ‘going to camp half-blood’ cause I didn’t think I’d end up here. It’s all pink, and cute and oh, should I also do my nails? Should we do our nails all pink?” you beamed at the idea.

“No.”

“True, yours do look very good in black,” you nodded. “Oh, we could cosplay Barbie and Raquelle. But it’s not going to be accurate, Raquelle hates Barbie.”

“I think it’s pretty accurate,” she shrugs. 

You slapped her arms playfully before laying your head on her lap. The weather was nice, the sun was out and the leaves were shading you from it, the perfect combination for you to take a nap. And then Clarisse started to run her fingers on your arm which made it for you. You were asleep in no time.

“Wake up sunshine,” Clarisse pinched you lightly on the hip. You jerked awake. 

“What?” you mumbled, standing up. 

“I have to meet up with my brothers and sisters for the next Capture the Flag strategy.”

“Can I come too?” you yawned. 

“We’re not on the same team, remember.”

“I won’t tell them anything.”

“Nope,” she walked away, “don’t follow me,” she turned around, walking backwards. 

I’d follow you everywhere you go Clarisse La Rue. 

“I won’t,” you said instead. 

The night before the date, you laid out your outfit neatly before washing up to go to bed. Cornelia was your bunkmate, with the bed above yours. But before going to sleep, you loved updating each other’s day. 

“So tomorrow huh,” Cornelia sat on your bed. “I never thought I’d live to see Clarisse being friendly with anyone other than her siblings.”

“I think she’s funny.”

“Sure, if funny was a synonym of mean. Wait– do you even have money to spend on tomorrow’s activities?” 

“Actually I do. Mr. D did tell me he wouldn’t give me any, and thank gods I found a load of cash in my backpack. My mom gave it to me. I mean she did write it was for any expense that I would have to make on my way home, but I have other priorities.”

“Clearly,” she rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re gonna regret this in August.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Like before any exciting day, it took some time to fall asleep. Anxiety and excitement mixing together, making up the worst and best scenarios. What if Clarisse is just messing with you and forgot? That can’t happen, you just saw her a few hours ago talking about it. What if you annoyed her so much with it, she’d stood you up? What if she doesn’t like everything you planned? Not a single positive and happy ‘what if’ comes to your mind. 

“Wake up!” someone shakes you awake. “It’s 8 already, you're going to be late!” Cornelia said. 

“Fuck!” you ran to the washroom. 

You rushed through your routine, before rushing back to your bed and grabbed your outfit, and put it on. And all of that only took 28 minutes. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a final check up, before opening the door. Clarisse was already there. Her curls free, just like the first time you saw her. It felt weird not seeing her in her usual orange tee, but she still looked pretty. She wore a simple short brown tank top with blue faded jeans, with her beaded necklace still hanging from her neck.

“You look really pretty today,” Clarisse smiled shyly, holding her arms around her.

“Thanks,” you approached her, putting your hands on her arms and leaned in, “you look pretty every day.”

“Don’t come home too late,” Lee interrupted, appearing just next to you. 

“Don’t worry, but also don’t wait up!” 

You grabbed Clarisse’s hand and dragged her away from your cabin. A taxi was waiting for you outside of the camp, and in no time you were at the local theatre in the middle of nowhere. And lucky for you, the people of this town weren’t going to see the 9:30am slot for Barbie. Except for that one couple sitting in the back. You dragged Clarisse in the middle, and sat with the popcorn and sodas. You ate in silence, watching the trailers. 

Well that was not fun. The worst ‘what ifs’ from last night came back immediately making you anxious. It was not supposed to be like this. What if she wasn’t enjoying herself. What if she was mad because she ate a salty popcorn when you asked for the sweet ones. What if she was disappointed—

“Ouch,” you looked at her, frowning, rubbing your arm. “Why did you do that?”

“You were ignoring me.”

“What? Oh I– I didn’t hear sorry.”

“I asked you, what’s the deal with Barbie anyway? Why are you so excited about a blonde, white, plastic doll?”

“W– Barbie is not– ok. She is a plastic doll, and she may not look like us but it’s the idea of Barbie, the idea that us women can be anything we want. And how in Barbie Land, it’s all about girls and women being able to be whoever they want, and have whatever jobs they want. Barbie is literally a doctor, a pilot, a model, a chef, a fashion designer, a business woman, a teacher – she has every job in the world. And there is no one telling her that she can’t do that because she’s not a man. And also, the Barbie franchise is my childhood. The movies, they deserve an Oscar honestly–,” you stopped. “Sorry, I talk too much.”

“I asked,” her attention went back to the screen. “So did you have any barbies?”

“Of course! I had Barbie's dreamhouse, and so many barbies and outfits. I’m surprised I didn’t end up being a writer with all my imagination. Did you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“My mom wasn’t the kind to buy me anything. And certainly not dolls.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t feel sad for me, I’m fine,” she gave you a quick glance.

“I’m not!” you frowned. “So you never watched Barbie and A Christmas Carol? The best Barbie movie ever?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, we have to change that. Mmh. But phones and laptops aren’t allowed though… Maybe if I bring my mom’s DVD player next summer.” 

“Already planning on your next move to woo me?” she teased, approaching you. 

Your eyes widened, your cheeks were hot.

“I– No! I– I– I don’t.”

“Relax sunshine, I’m kidding,” she laughed. 

And just then, the lights went out and the movie was about to start, thank the gods. Because you did not know what to say. The movie was incredible, you shed a few tears at the end, and sang Dance The Night with Clarisse laughing and cheering you on. It was a great experience, and it was even better to have watched it with Clarisse. 

“Did you like it?” you asked her when the credits started rolling.

“Yes. It was great.”

“And you’ll love the other Barbie movies because they are way less depressing.”

“So, what’s next?” she stood up.

“It’s almost time to eat, what do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

“No you choose, I insist,” you smiled.

Really you were just very indecisive. Clarisse settled for a burger place not too far away from the cinema. There weren't many people inside, so you were able to choose where to sit – a table next to the window. It was a booth seat, so you had your own booth each, facing each other, menu in hand. 

“So, what are you choosing?” you asked her.

“I’ll take the Highwayman. You?”

“The Roadhouse looks good.”

Clarisse raised her hand and weaved at the waitress, when you grabbed her hand. 

“Wait!”

“What?”

“Can you order for me please?”

She furrowed her brow, but nodded. You smiled. You only waited ten-or-so minutes before the waitress came back with your food. Like always, you checked the inside of your burger before eating it, you picked out the onions and the tomato. 

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t like these.”

“Couldn’t you have asked the waitress to take them out.”

“No…”

“Give me your tomato then,” she opened her burger bun.

You were the one entertaining lunch. Clarisse asked questions about your life and you told her – you told her stories about your childhood, your school, your mom and she listened, nodding along. Once you were done, you took a cab and decided to go to the mall. 

“We don’t have any money,” Clarisse stopped you when you were going to step into the mall. 

“I do. Remember I paid for the tickets, and the food.”

“Yeah, but I thought you only had enough for these.”

“Nope. Well, remember how I said my mom is an opera singer. It was you fifty percent talent and fifty percent nepotism and generational wealth. Meaning I’m rich, I mean my mom but her love language is sending me money for not raising me,” you joked.

She stared at you, concerned. 

“I’m kidding,” you grabbed her hand, “let’s shop.”

Clarisse refused to accept anything you’d set eyes on for her. 

“Well, at least try on some of them, just to see.”

She agreed to it, which was a mistake because now that you knew her size, you could buy her everything she laid eyes on. She was trying on this dark green simple long sleeve tee shirt, and after she put it back, you took it with you.

“What are you doing?” she tried to grab the tee shirt back. 

“I might want it for myself!” you hid it behind your back. 

‘Doesn’t look like something you’d wear.”

“My style changes, it depends on my mood. Maybe I want us to have matching clothes.”

“Then why is there only one in your hand?”

You quickly grabbed another one. And then it was settled. You’d buy her things and then another copy for you – everything went, from boots to tee shirts to pants, and jackets. Then you went to a jewellery shop. You needed new rings because yours flew away from your hands during the last Capture the Flag – they were obviously a tad too big. 

“Did you find anything you like?” you asked her. 

“No, they aren't the most useful things to have.”

You pouted, and threw a bunch on the table. 

“What are you doing?”

“Putting these back on the shelves, cause I chose half of these for you,” you sighed dramatically. 

“Oh,” she took a look at the jewellery. 

Various rings and bracelets.

“They’re great, I love them.”

“No you don’t.”

“You picked them out so yes, I do.”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine,” you sighed. 

“Maybe you don’t have to buy all of it, just one of each.”

You nodded, and picked one ring for her, and two bracelets for each of you. You gave them to the seller to wrap them and left to look at other items. Clarisse soon joined you and soon enough the seller gave a little bag, you paid and left. Your hands were full of shopping bags, and before leaving you needed a little bit of rest so you two sat on the chairs in the resting area. Thankfully the mall wasn’t too crowded as it was still early in the afternoon on a random Tuesday. 

“Huh!” you gasped pointing at something behind Clarisse.

“What?” she turned around swiftly, not seeing any threat. 

“A photobooth!” you smiled.

You stood up, grabbed all of your bags and walked to the booth, hoping Clarisse was following you. You turned around, and Clarisse was still sitting still, legs crossed, leaned into the chair, staring at you. You held your hands together, and motionned her to come. She didn’t move for a good minute, but seeing how you weren’t going to move, she caved in and stood up. 

“Sunshine,” she put her hands on your shoulders, “you can look at me for free, I won’t charge you, don’t worry.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling. 

“You’ll thank me in a few years because of this. Pictures are the best kind of souvenirs.”

Clarisse got in first, the space was a tight fit, and you were glued to Clarisse, but you two fit in the frame so it was good. You put the coins inside, and waited for it to take the picture. But that was not good enough for Clarisse – she put her arm around your waist and scooped you onto her lap.

“Better?” 

You nodded, staring at her. 

“Better,” you confirmed. 

You went to take a pose but too late, the four pictures were already taken. 

“It’s fine, we’ll take another one.”

Another turned into another few more and you ended with a ton of pictures. By the time you left the mall it was already pretty late. Almost time to go home. But neither of you wanted that, so you went to the beach instead – main beach in the east. It was empty – people at this hour were all eating. You two sat on the sand, far from the shore. 

“Did you have a great time?” you asked.

“Yes,” she looked at you, “did you?”

You nodded enthusiastically. 

“Aren’t you glad you lost that bet against me?”

“Mmh,” she shrugged, “my option would’ve been just as good for me.”

“Well, I am glad I won. I prefer this option much better.”

Clarisse started to lay down but you grabbed her arm. 

“Sand will get in your hair.”

“I’ll wash it tonight, it’s fine.”

You shook your head, and took off your blouse and laid it on the sand, behind Clarisse. She tried to protest, but you were quicker. 

“I don’t want this day to end,” you admitted, staring at the waves. “I don’t think Mr. D will give us another authorisation anytime soon,” you laughed. 

Clarisse stared at you, not saying anything. You arrived at camp only a week ago, and yet you two were already closer than she was with any of her siblings. You were nice to her, always rooting for her, and you were a great friend. Not many people were these things to the Ares kids. 

“There this field trip around October,” Clarisse sat up again, “I suppose you’re not staying around the whole year. But it’d be great if you could come.”

“A field trip? To where?”

“It’s something we do once a year at camp,” she explained. “A trip to Olympus.”

You thought about it. 

“Are you asking me to meet your father? I didn’t think we were already at this stage so early on."

[ishipallthings]

Cap Iron Man Rec Week 2024 (Mon)

Better Together Monday - July 22nd for @cap-ironman Rec Week

Very excited for Rec Week, hope you guys have fun too!

Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!

Kludged Together by Veldeia @veldeia (MCU)

When he cut his morning jog short to join Tony Stark on a reconnaissance mission off the East Coast, Steve sure wasn’t expecting to end up stuck on a life raft in the middle of the ocean, his hand knuckle-deep in Stark's chest.

Even the Light is an Illusion by Mizzy (MCU)

Death threats are an unfortunate side-effect of being Tony Stark, so he's learned to ignore them. The problem is, when someone really wants you dead, hiding your head in the sand just kinda exposes your ass. But it's not just Tony's behind on the line. Whoever wants him dead wants him to suffer first, and they're willing to do anything to make that happen. Tony knows there's only one way out. To save Steve, the Avengers, and the general public, Tony has to die. Of course, death isn't always the end, and Tony does what any other self-disrespecting scientist would do: he finds a way to fake his death and avenge his own murder. The trouble is, terrible decisions usually have a terrible price, and this one is no different. Tony has a chance to save the day, but the cost may be more than Tony was ever expecting to pay…

Should You Choose to Accept It by elwenyere @elwenyere (MCU)

After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right?

the things we invent when we are scared by nanasekei @elcorhamletlive (MCU, post-CA:CW)

Steve is trapped in a dream machine, programmed to make him believe he's living his happiest fantasy. Tony goes inside to wake him up, but what he finds is a lot more complicated than he expected.

i was put together wrong by suchmadnesss @suchmadnesss (MCU, post-EG)

Even in his anger, in his misjudgment, or even in the barest glimpses of inadvertent cruelty, everything Tony did was with passion. No matter what, he was always graceful, grandiose, effusive. Incandescent. Tony grows in front of the cameras and keeps a world of expectations balanced on the tightrope of his shoulders, but nothing ever seems to be enough. The hubris is a fallacy and the smirk Steve had always known to be a front isn’t whimsy, as he’d expected; instead, it’s bred. As he follows a couple of his steps, Steve feels as Tony does, which is to say: intensely. Every happiness is a marvel, every pain is acute. The higher they fly, the harder they fall. (In which the stones beckon Steve into a glimpse of Tony's past, and it proves to be his unraveling.)

What You Don't Know by Sineala @sineala (Noir)

In 1941, two strangers meet in a bar. And then Captain America meets Iron Man. And then Steve Rogers meets Tony Stark. They get it right. Eventually. And also they fall out of an airplane.

Let My Hands Do the Soothing by Sineala @sineala (616)

Steve's always been determined to do the right thing, and when Tony is in more trouble than ever, he doesn't hesitate. Severely wounded by multiple attempts on his life, framed for an attack he never committed, Tony is on the run from the government, ready to hunt down the villain responsible and make him pay. But he doesn't have to do it alone. Steve is there for him. But keeping Tony in one piece is harder than Steve thought it would be, and caring for Tony is bringing up feelings that are difficult to keep buried…

and a self rec!

ever be afraid to say by ishipallthings (MCU, EG canon-divergent)

Steve sees it happening a moment just before it does, Tony snapping on the Gauntlet and facing Thanos head-on, eyes bright and ever-defiant. And Steve—Steve’s heart falls to his feet. No.

Hope you guys enjoy the recs, and stay tuned for more! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG translation] Joker Out: Playing on the main stage of Sziget means the success with capital letters for us

An interview with Joker Out published in the August 2024 issue of Rockstar magazine. Original article written by Viki Erdős, photo by Viki Erdős. Translation and review by X ddrflctns and X brnbergeron, proofread by @flowerlotus8.

In the former Yugoslavia they have won the 'Artist of the Year' and the 'Song of the Year' awards several times. With two albums under their belt, they entered the Eurovision Song Contest with their song 'Carpe Diem' last year, which put them on the Spotify Viral Top 10 list and then on the Main Stage of Sziget. We met the Slovenian five-piece Joker Out before their first concert in Budapest, where they told us: their biggest dream came true by playing for us at the Island of Freedom on 8 August. Read more of our interview on rockstar.hu!

What's your first impression of the Sziget Festival, now that you've spent a few hours here?

Jan: Actually I already came here yesterday to see L'Impératice. It's definitely the biggest festival I've been to, yet it doesn't seem too crowded. I really like the atmosphere, somehow despite the noise it's calming, and the line-up is incredible!

Jure: It's going to be the biggest stage we've ever played on.

Bojan: I didn't even see you on the stage during the soundcheck, because there was so much smoke! I turned around and just blinked 'where is everyone'?

You posted concert photos from 2016 on Instagram just yesterday. Did you ever think you would play on the main stage of Sziget?

Bojan: Performing at Sziget was always our biggest dream, we somehow thought that playing here, on the main stage would mean success with capital letters. I think we always believed that it will happen one day.

Last year your Eurovision performance brought you international success. How to imagine this? Are you getting recognised on the street, for example?

Bojan: We're constantly being recognised in Slovenia, but there are other countries, for example the Balkans, or Finland and The Netherlands, where we have a big fanbase. So the bottom line is that it's all unbearable and we're huge rock stars. (they all laugh)

Kris: And to top it all off, we are doing an interview with Rockstar Magazine.

How do you handle fame?

Bojan: Oh, it's all terrible! I can't even have a cup of coffee without being surrounded by people! (laughs)

But seriously!

Bojan: No, it's super good, in my opinion, our fame at the moment is perfectly manageable. We’re not recognised by a crazy amount of people yet, and the people who do recognise us are usually very nice. Sometimes a few fans wait for us at the airport, weirdly specifically it always happens in Finland. They tell us about how our music helped them getting through tough times or how they found new friends thanks to us. Only at times like this, we realise that we're getting closer to our goals, that music is no longer just for our entertainment, but also for the pleasure of others.

You recently came out with an animated music video for your song 'Šta bih ja'. How did you come up with this idea and how did you find the right artist for the job?

Kris: It was quite liberating to make a music video without having to be in it. Jokes aside, I thought it was a great time for an animated video, which we've never done before. We had a lot of gigs and time was tight, so it was a perfect move. We've been working with a lot of our fans over the last six months, who are great artists, by the way. We keep an eye on what they post, and we're always completely blown away by it and try to collaborate with them whenever possible. For example, they've made merch and a cover for our single for streaming platforms. The new music video was also made by one of our fans.

How much do they freak out when you contact them?

Kris: A lot, I feel like. But they try to be chill about it.

What is the story behind 'Šta bih ja'?

Bojan: We moved to London for two months to write new material, this was the first song that was written there. It was the first time we really felt what it was like to be away from home and miss our loved ones. In additional to how it feels to be a stranger in a new city, the song is also about what it's like being in love when you can only keep in touch with your partner over the phone.

I've noticed on your Instagram that you like lame photoshopped pictures. Is there an expert in the band responsible for these, or is it a team effort?

Jan: That would be me... (laughs) I don't even know how it started. I always use the same picture, it was taken for our Eurovision campaign, we all look hilarious on it. I noticed that our faces fit perfectly on any picture depicting people. It started as a joke, but now it's become our general marketing strategy.

Bojan: You've already extended the scope to foods, animals...

Jan: Yes, last time I photoshopped Nace onto a sausage.

Earlier this year, your concert film and it's accompanying live album was released. Was this a big dream come true?

Jan: The concert film and live album itself was not a dream, but playing in the arena where it was recorded was. It's nice to relive that experience.

Bojan: I haven't watched it at all. It's really about the fact that we had the opportunity to record and release it, and we took it. That's how the market works. We had to have something to spend our money on, so that we would have as little left as possible. (laughs)

Your festival season will be over soon. What's in store for the rest of the year?

Bojan: Before the tour we had already recorded most of our third album in Hamburg, but we knew that we would need to come back [to the studio] for a few more session. So we spend all of our day-offs in the studio, but now in Ljubljana.

How would you describe the new sound in three words?

Bojan: Makes. No. Sense. (laughs)

[ateez-himari]

DISPATCHED BY MISTAKE

It seems the widely popular K-Pop media Dispatch has been beat to the punch in the reveal of a new couple, and with a simple slip.

July 20, 2024 (11:33PM)

While seeing comments joking about certain countries altering the behavior of members on stage has become rather common, it seems to hold specs of truth as a singular slip of the tongue gave viewers something they had been waiting rather eagerly to hear. Most members of the group's fan base would claim that numerous kisses well in front of cameras had confirmed suspicions long ago, though many still argued that there was the possibility of a simple publicity stunt or even a friends with benefits relationship yet the aftermath of their first Los Angeles night dismissed the skeptics.

Throughout the live it was noticed that the sound of running water filled the background for about fifteen minutes, although comments did not bother pointing it out until the familiar voice of the group's maknae was heard asking about an item's whereabouts which led to a confirmation that her and Mingi were indeed rooming together that night. The fact was quickly ignored due to the commonality of the members sharing rooms yet something else was accidentally revealed when questions about the rapper's 'Fix On' pieces of clothing flooded comments, something which has been blowing up social platforms ever since.

'I brought another hoodie but I can't show it to you guys right now since my girlfriend's wearing it.'

Coincidentally the vocalist happened to come into frame at that same moment, allowing netizens to see the painted phrase underneath her wet hair henceforth confirming that the girl in question was none other than herself (though the look of pure shock traversing her face when the title came out left no mistake to be made). The two merely stared at one another though admittedly with much different expressions; the youngest slightly panicked whilst her older member calmly smiled, almost chuckling, before going back to reading comments as if nothing unusual had happened.

As neither artist mentioned what had been exposed earlier, the live continued with such normalcy that viewers entering after the incident would not have been able to tell what happened moments prior, although yet another mistake from the rapper gave netizens another clip to make viral. Whilst attempting to turn off the broadcast the camera flipped around to the singular bed in the room, which detective netizens quickly figured out they shared, where his girlfriend laid looking at her phone with a somewhat revealing sleeping set - though his large sweater stopped curious eyes from seeing too much.

With the world tour already starting out in such an unexpected manner it seems that Atiny can expect much more for the months to come. For now please congratulate the newly revealed couple, who happen to be the first idols to date within their group publicly, and for those believing they had a chance with either we hope your grieving period is short.

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[puckpocketed]

5/08/2023 - Berkly Catton captains Team Canada to gold at the Hlinka Gretzky Cup, leading the tournament with 8 goals and 2 assists in 10 games || 19/01/2024 Meet the Future - Berkly Catton named Team White's captain for the CHL/NHL Top Prospects Game || 5/07/2024 - Berkly Catton signs his ELC with the Seattle Kraken

Introduction, quotes/transcripts/bits and pieces under the cut!

I can't even begin to describe how jazzed I am that Berkly Catton got drafted to a team I already love. I wrote in my Sharks off-season roundup that I was hoping against hope Catton would drop to 14th overall (back before we had moved up to 11th) and the Sharks would snap him up, as unlikely as it was that they'd try to gather more firepower when we sorely needed defensive prospects. I'm so glad I got my wish one way or another <3

Krakenblr you will LOVE this dude. He's such a star. Such a character. Berkly Catton is so, SO fun to watch. You have no idea!!! I followed him in the months leading up to the draft because there was buzz that he might be available lower down because of the Height Issue (he is, tragically, 5'11 <- which makes him undraftable unfortch) + concerns with how his game will translate to the NHL level. He is an electrifying playmaker. He's so creative, throws in so many fakes, WILL break ankles, very good hands... ough <3 everything I personally love to see in a forward all rolled into one neat little package !!!

There's the suggestion that he's been "over-scouted," which really just means they've all been watching him so long they're probably overthinking things and looking for stuff to critique. I'm inclined to believe this take over the other one because I'm an optimist and he was one of my little guys going into the draft! I won't include more of that here, but there's plenty of material out there if you'd like to look for it.

Below are some of my favourite bits and pieces from media he's appeared in <3

“I don’t like to give it away (pause) but I look at guys before games,” Catton revealed. “What’s weird is going from midget to junior hockey is a big jump. Last year I was learning. This year I wanted to add stuff. My pregame stuff and to look at guys doing draws and seeing what works. That’s pre-scouting on my end. If a guy has a certain move, and you can trump it early, it gets in his head a little bit. That helped quite a bit.”

“I think I sometimes have a problem with passing the puck too much. I love seeing my teammates score and setting up for an open net. It’s one of my favourite things in hockey, if not my favourite,” Catton admitted. “That’s something I can work on. When I get a chance put it home kind of thing. I got better this year at it’s still something I’d like to improve. Honestly, I’m a pass first mentality guy I would say.”

- Berkly Catton’s video scouting has improved his overall game

You know, when I first read and saved this article I was like; this prospect who reviews VIDEO is gonna haunt me. That's my weakness btw, I'm freak4freak. If you tell me a hockey player is also deeply infatuated with the game to the point of reviewing tape in their free time that's IT for me. it's JOEVER. i have a type and i know it <3 also wowie a pass-first guy who gets really really happy when his teammates score??? crying. crying. Berkly Catton . tucking uou gently away <3 forever <3

From A Day in the Life: Berkly Catton & Conner Roulette

Fave movie is The Notebook (<- unrelated there's a . really funny comment on this video from a philly fan lamenting that Catton likes the Notebook - I assume because that's some uhhh how do the kids call it,, femme soyboy shit? lmao anyway stay LOSING toxic masculinity !!!)

The boys call him 'Berk' <3

He talks about Jack Hughes being a big influence on him (in other media, he gives Hughes as a player comp!) and going to hang out and work with the Hughes family in Michigan. I sense a thread of admiration here like it's such a sweet little crush LOL <3 I hope he notices you Berkly !!

he gives the player of the match hat to a coach/trainer (one of the two) it's lovely... ouhhh... good little fella so polite and so conscious of staff being the foundation of his success... mwah!!

From Berkly Catton Talks Hockey Sense, His Start In Hockey & More | Game Tape With Tony

His father and grandfather built him a rink in his backyard, very sweet.

1OA in the WHL draft!

Anime main character levels of training-arc... my guy shot thousands of pucks over the summer in his backyard and then came back suddenly able to score goals. <- this is where the DIY goalie made of wood and blocker pads comes in. lol. lmao. are u even real.

sorry. sorry. OLEN ZELLWEGER MENTION. <- one of my personal favourite little guys (undersized puck moving defensemen my BELOVED) "Kind of a funny story [...] I pretty much had a breakaway, when he just turned backwards and played it as a 1-on-1 somehow, and I was like 'wow, this guy's the real deal', so." I really liked how Catton easily recalled a specific person/moment when asked who challenged him the most in the WHL; I think it speaks to a thoughtfulness about the game - it would've been easy to just give a vague Oh Everyone Is Good answer here and I like that he didn't!

There's a section where he talks about how he got so good at stick lifting, such an interesting perspective I never considered - he played in situations and against people where he couldn't just throw his body around to win, so he had to learn to get the puck in other ways. KEVIN KORCHINSKI MENTION <- another one of my little guys <3

mentions his dad being a big influence on his 'patience'. parents are so funny to me. ur watching your sons juniors matches? and Ohhhhh Chris Catton was a hockey player too . it all makes sense. Berkly Catton product of jockdad like so many before him <3

I do love that throughout this interview, Catton defers to his linemates a lot. Always hyping them up and talking about how he owes his success to them. it could be construed as false humility, given Catton was the highest scoring draft-eligible in the league - but he really does go out of his way to emphasise how highly he regards them and how much of their on-ice success is owed to good chemistry built up over the entire season. It strikes me as genuine!! He's a good boy <3

Revealed he can solve a rubix cube at the end... wow... he just liek me fr...

PLEASE watch this on-ice interview where he's chatting after a game and then gets ABSOLUTELY WASTED by 5 water bottles and all the boys. he is clearly so so so beloved in that locker room waaaahhh <3

Anyway this isn't an exhaustive list but it IS a lot of the reasons why I really liked him pre-draft. welcome to the deep Berkly <3

[munson-blurbs]

Meet-cute (noun): an amusing or charming first encounter between two characters that leads to the development of a romantic relationship between them.

I can't believe it's been almost two years since I started this blog.

On October 9, 2022, I decided to try my hand at writing fanfic. Just a little fluff piece about Eddie asking Reader on a date. It was how I had imagined he'd be: a bit awkward and shy, needing encouragement from the other Hellfire Club members, and head over heels for a bookworm.

As a thank you to the fandom that has supported me these last two years, I'd like to make your meet-cute ideas come true. Well, as true as they can be for fictional characters.

Until September 30, 2024, I will be taking meet-cute requests to turn into blurbs (500-750 words). In your request, please include the following:

The character you'd like to be paired with (For this event, I'll write for Eddie, Steve, Argyle, Robin, Nancy, and Gareth)

A few words to describe yourself (e.g., shy, outgoing, funny, ambitious)

1-2 of your hobbies or interests

Your pronouns

Any other important details you'd like me to include

Meet-cutes will be posted throughout the month of October. I will write as many as I can. Any meet-cutes not written will be kept in my inbox and potentially used in future requests!

Yours till the hell fires, Bug

[notnights]

Little ninja fans of present day and past, I began watching RC9GN in December of 2012, and it changed my life forever, now it's 2024 and I'm nearing 30, time sure flies! Anyways I've been working on cleaning out my computer files and found a bunch and I mean A BUNCH of Randy Cunningham 9th Grade Ninja promotional material and side content. I pretty much have most things that came out from 2012 - 2015 pertaining to the show.

I imagine a lot of these things have been lost to time as some of it was originally posted was from the DisneyXD website, and variations of the DisneyXD website (meaning from other countries). I have interviews, bumpers, dubs of episodes, even footage of some of the old RC9GN games, and Randy cameos (I saved footage of someone playing the RC9GN Poptropica promo!)

I also have a clip from WSFA where they reported on the fan that wrote Rachel's song. I had thought it was posted to youtube but I can't find it again so maybe they removed it, it's not on the article that's still up either! Guess it's good I saved it. (The article isn't entirely accurate, I believe she said she got the internship because of her song)

I also have a few clips of other dubs, including an Italian dub of the song and music video "GO NINJA GO," that's pretty cool! I also found audio files of the raw music from the show! I can't even remember how I got that. (they are unfortunately not named)

I have some less quality stuff like literally me just recording promos and bumpers off of the TV screen lol. Some of these also include snips of other Disney XD bumpers and promos though.

Anyways, I don't want this stuff kept all to my self as I see a lot of it is lost to time, if not hard to find. And oh look at that looks like I have a handy little sideblog I never used that's perfect for this! @theninjanomicon (I'll pretty it up later), so over time I'll probably share some of it on there.

Younger me was unfortunately not very thorough in the archiving, so some titles, dates, names, and exactly where I got them from, are missing, but I can give a rough time frame and where I got these from that I can remember. (another reason why I'm doing it! to mark down what I can remember before I forget anymore of it)

I wouldn't be uploading any full episodes for obvious reasons but might upload clips of some of the alternate dubs I have. And yes I have the pilot, which I can't share either but I do have STORYBOARDS from the pilot (which up until this year was our only reference for this "kim possible style" it used to have) which maybe I can share as I got it from the storyboarder's portfolio which was public back when I got it.

I might add some commentaries under a readmore for certain posts to give extra contexts/what I remember being relevant to the piece I post.

Now the hard part is figuring out where to start! What would y'all like to see first?

[tyetknot]

I thought you were joking when you said that the Farrar's books were outdated but holy shittt, even for 1970s wicca/witchcraft those guys were like full gender heterosexual white magic ye harm none thing, I was also seeing their interview were christian kids interview them, and boy it is hard to watch, but on to my question kskk, do you know if they changed later down?,like Janet seems to be okay sometimes,I can't find anything of them on their "controversial views" except their later polyamorous relationship (wich come to think of it I would love to hear their gender rationale on that), and also, how do you personally (if you do so) reconcile this type of author?, like there is no doubt that they are important in craft history, but now they kinda do more harm than good.

Hi Anon! I'm sorry if you've been waiting for a bit, you know how Tumblr is.

So one thing it's important to remember is: back in the 1970s and 80s a religion where women run the show was very progressive. Feminism got bolted onto Wicca pretty quickly once it hit the American West Coast and Starhawk wrote The Spiral Dance. Things like worshipping a goddess who didn't need a man around to tell her what to do were really unusual for the time. All this hippie-dippy shit like being naked in your rituals and such was far out, man, not like those totally square and boring Christians.

The problem is that, like many older people who were once cool and progressive, they just kind of stopped where they were in the 70s and 80s and didn't really......well, progress past that point. This leads to things like statements like that one in A Witches' Bible where they think that actually gay people are perfectly OK in ritual (this was a bit of a controversial point at the time) as long as they act like their biological gender, which is hilarious to us in 2024 because they obviously conflate being gay with being trans in some bizarre fashion. This was progressive for the time. It comes across as incredibly ignorant today. And of course, if their ideas did change, well, the book is already out there, people are reading it, and you can't go back in time and change something that's already been published. You can add notes or amendments to further editions, but I don't believe they ever did that, and Stewart Farrar died in the early aughts.

I find the polyamory thing to be pretty cringe, NGL, because I am a judgmental and suspicious piece of shit and think that an awful lot of the time polyamory is a tool used to make younger women sexually available to older men - good Lord, the age difference between Stewart and Janet - and that's very distasteful.

In my opinion the Farrars are probably the stodgiest and most conservatively-written books you'll find from that time period, and they're a good example of what coven-based Alexandrian Wicca looked like at that time, but there were a lot of more relaxed writers out there at the time and LOTS more a few years later. My primary complaint with A Witches' Bible is rather specifically that asinine Oak King / Holly King thing which they made up entirely and then ineptly shoehorned into the Wheel of the Year, where it just doesn't fucking work, and then everyone else just kind of went with it. No! It sucks and is bad, don't do it!

Do I think they do more harm than good? No, I don't. I think that anyone fairly new to Wicca shouldn't read this book first thing out the gate because it sets a lot of very unrealistic expectations, and because it's pretty old - Eight Sabbats for Witches was published in 1981, which makes it a few years older than me, and The Witches' Way in 1984, which makes it a year younger than me, and TBH there's much newer and fresher material being published every year. I would much sooner recommend someone like Thorn Mooney to new person interested in traditional Wicca.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

now & forever

cw. olnf week 2024, pre!release, step 2, day 3, pre!relationship, slight angst with a healthy dose of comfort

pairing. qiu lin/hash browns (ft. sparkling leaves)

notes. day 3 of @olnfweek2024. me? writing for qiu lin? i know, check and see if it is hailing in summer i can't believe this is happening either. my good friend @hash-slinging-slasher-trash recently got done with their final exams for their summer semester so this is a treat for them. surprise! (even if i am sure this was obvious considering my questions from yesterday lmao)

“You can roll your neck and stomp your feet but this black girl you sure won’t beat!” Nyla and Serenity chant in audible unison from across campus, moving in accordance to the words. From where they sit, Hash can see Tamarack giggling at the antics. Black Kid Solidarity, Nyla calls it. She finds it where she can. While not a member of that particular duo, Hash’s lips curl into an instinctive smile. The energy is contagious.

Dark raspberry eyes catch blue eyes observing the scene.

“Hi,” Tamarack mouths, her smile small but courteous as she waves.

Hash waves back with a small smile of her own, balancing her tray carefully with one hand. “Hey,” they mouthed back.

Hash remembers Tamarack’s squeals as they climbed atop the tire swing her grandfather set up. The cool autumn wind scratching their cheeks and lifting their laughs and giggles to the heavens.

When was it those times playing in that tire became infrequent? Hash can’t recall; four years is four centuries in teenage years.

Tamarack shuffles to the side on the grass with a hopeful expression, thin eyebrows knit carefully. When did Tamarack start plucking them again? When did I start noticing in the first place? Hash wonders what it says about her that she can’t remember that either when a long time ago it felt like her and Tamarack’s friendship was tighter than gorilla glue. Slowly but surely, that bond had been weathered by the rain.

There were no storms that attacked their friendship. No trials.

Just the passage of time.

Hash sees the spread of trays on the grass, like it’s a picnic. “Sorry,” Hash mouths and Tamarack nods in unsurprised understanding.

Hash and Tamarack were friends; they’re still friends. Standing across a ways from one another during lunch hour, however, the physical distance feels representative of their state of affairs.

Hash, Nyla, Tamarackー The new kids.

Four years ago, it felt like the three of them against the world as fellow newcomers to Acorn Rd. Golden Grove, Oregon.

“You ever stop to think how we’re like a reverse oreo?” Nyla, age 11, noted from where she lazily laid back against the Browns porch step. Summer was the worst season in Golden Grove and not even the chilled watermelon pieces in the bowl split between them could completely fight the heat. “Y’all are the vanilla whites, I’m the chocolate filling.”

Hash choked on their piece, “Nyla, shut up!”

“Hey I’m the one who said it, y’all can laugh,” Nyla stuck out her tongue with a snicker. “Quit smiling if you don’t think it’s funny, Lord Hashington!”

Tamarack’s small hands covered her face, unable to contain her laughter. There hadn’t been an attempt to stop it in the first place. The two of them were always the blunt new kid trio members, saying most anything that came to their mind.

Four years later, the world has split a world with the three of them distinctly in different sects. Friends… but not best friends.

Four years in the past, the kids of the cul-de-sac were a quartet.

Four years in the present, there’s a line. A distinct one.

We’re all still friends, Hash tells themself. Most of us. 

Qiu and Tamarack’s relationship had fallen off compared to the rest. The two of them aside, things aren’t the same anymore and Hash has come to accept that. Tamarack is going to leave one day, tugged down a path by her parents. Qiu sinks more and more into themselves, outsiders unable to penetrate their newfound icy fortress. Nyla’s problems are harder to look into when she keeps them hidden behind bad jokes and laidback nonchalance.

Of their original friend group, everyone has a favorite.

Nyla and Tamarack’s eyes have always been reserved for each other.

Qiu has Hash and Hash has Qiu.

Nyla’s lunch hour is reserved for Tamarack and Hash’s hour has always been reserved for Qiu. Speaking of Qiu, Hash knew they were waiting for them in Mr. Murray’s class. “See you,” they wave one last time before turning towards the building the professor’s class is located in.

Things might have changed with Nyla and Tamarack, simultaneously grand and minute the changes have been, but things have never and will never change with Mx. Qiu Lin.

Hash finds them as they always do, draped over a desk lazily with their brown hair spread across their shoulders haphazardly. “Qiulet,” Hash calls playfully and a brown eye opens unamused. “I’ve finally returned from the battlefield. Looks like you don’t need to come down from your balcony, after all.”

“It was never a balcony in the first place, you weirdo,” Qiu murmurs, leaning back to sit properly in their chair as Hash placed their tray between them.

“Not-so-secret hideout, Juliet’s balcony,” Hash rolls their eyes in mock irritation. “What’s the difference?”

Qiu smirks, resting their chin on their palm, “sounds like plenty to me.”

Hash sits down with their nose in the air pointedly smug, “well it’s a good thing you’re not the one in charge of my allusions.” Qiu’s response is to take one of Hash’s fries. For someone who said they weren’t hungry, that never stops Qiu from suddenly desiring food when someone else provides it. Regardless, there’s little that isn’t shared between them now. Hash feels no reason to make a fuss. “You gonna go to ballet practice for once?”

“That depends, who’s asking?” Qiu raises a brow lazily.

Your mother, technically. Mrs. Lin knew it’d be a pointless endeavor in bringing it up herself, however, so she relied on you, the Qiu Whisperer. “Me,” Hash replies smoothly. “I wanna have a post-lunch show after school. I haven’t seen you practice in a while, so I guess I felt like going. Only if you want though.”

Qiu shrugs, taking another fry thoughtfully before eventually relenting, “I guess.”

That’s as much of a ‘yes’ as one will get in the language of apathetic Qiu Lin.

“Good because I have your leotard in my backpack,” Hash grins giggling when Qiu flicks her forehead lightly. “What? I had to be prepared just in case you said ‘yeah’, otherwise we’d be late!”

“Yeah, yeah, if you say so,” Qiu rolls their eyes but Hash can see amusement swimming in them. Sees their lips quirk into a playful smirk and how light and airy their movements are. It’s a shame people like Vianca and Serenity don’t get to see this side of them but you can’t help relishing in how you’re one of the coveted few that do. “You’re not slick.”

Hash bats their eyelashes adoringly, “I know not to what you are referring.”

“Mhmm,” Qiu hums in disbelief but unbothered as they are, they let it go. If they truly hated it, after all, Qiu would have let you know expeditiously. Pretty as a rose Qiu may be, they have their thorns. They never seem to brandish them against Hash, however. Any pushback they have are small pricks, soft. This isn’t anything that has them pressed. “But the next time you decide to beat me into going to ballet practice, I demand compensation.”

“Is my charming personality not enough?” Hash gasps, clutching their chest in imagined pain.

“It is most of the time, but I like to shake things up from time to time,” Qiu chuckles.

Hash isn’t sure if it’s the joy they got them to smile that has them flushed or the comment. Probably both. It’s just them joking around, Hash reminds themself. Just a joke. Nothing serious. “Well what will satisfy you, Mx. Qiu Lin? Your humble servant will provide the goods tomorrow.”

“Mom’s making dumplings tomorrow and is forcing me and Dad to help,” Qiu sighs painfully. Hash’s mouth waters at just the thought of it. Dumplings are a long but rewarding affair in the Lin household. “You’re suffering with me.”

“That isn’t even a punishment,” Hash smirks, moving a stray lock of dirty blonde hair from their vision.

Qiu smirks in return, closing their eyes in satisfaction, “glad to know you’ll be there then.”

i was really trying to keep in mind the hash lore they developed from their playthrough of the ol2 demo and our discord chats fjnfkjsdnf. things get a bit angsty TmT. still homies with tamarack but because tam might be leaving, there's a bit of distance between them and they've gotten real close to qiu because of the insurance their not going anywhere. i wanted to play with that concept with a mixture of the day 3 prompts with crossing our verses together and hash looking back on the memories