#i just wanted to do skin thats all. i like scribbling it out.

[termagax]

[rinnstars]

all sides of you!

the five love languages rin shows to you

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, hcs/drabble, not proofread, likes n reblogs are appreciated <3

words of affirmation

- at the beginning, i think hes a lot more averse to saying romantic stuff so its more of in a long term/after months of dating

- mainly leaves sticky notes/passes notes during class/at home with what he wants to say ar rhe beginning

- after a while tho, he’ll try to at least praise you/compliment you irl then slowly tell you he loves you (altho rarely at the beginning)

- has a bunch of scribbled notes he never passed to you all filled with confessions/ things he wants to say that he eventually says at the back of his closet in a box (because he thinks its sentimental)

- a lot better at expressing his feelings and can say them without freaking out internally or stuttering before giving up and calling you a mean nickname to neutralise the compliment

- believes in a speak not tell but he knows communication is key so he’ll try his best so bear with him

- slowburn moment for this but its 100% worth it when he comes home from competition and all he can say is repeatedly whisper i love u into your ear as he pulls you closer into his embrace

physical touch

- again, at first hes a bit touch averse / awkward with hugs/kisses but after a while of dating..

- 100% super clingy esp after coming back from competition/bllk : his hands have to be somewhere on your skin, doesnt matter where hes not picky

- has to sleep with you, hugging you like youre his plushie (drools a little too btw)

- links pinky when you guys walk together doeznt matter where “you’ll get lost” excuse except his entire face goes pink at the touch of your hands

- really likes kissing your neck, he thinks its rlly cute when he can hear you & esp if it leaves a mark :p

- has piggy-backed you before even when youre not lying about your shoes hurting or being tired to be carried by him

- enjoys being babied ngl like he loves it sm when you pepper his face with kisses while he just lies there or when you comb his hair with your fingers: he feels like hes in heaven esp after stressful days

quality time

- tries to see you everyday : either through school/going to yours/his house, dates, or even facetime call

- calls you every night when hes overseas btw and during breaks he’ll try to text you back n reply to your messages

- the type to make up excuses just to hang out with you like “oh i need to get new shoes, come with me” even though he has 2038839 different pairs and then have to huy another one because he cant be caught (you can tell)

- wld go on “study” dates where he just stares at you 3/4 of rhe time and actually doesnt finish any of his “assignments”

- has gone on hangouts where both of you just chill in silence n rlly likes it because theres no pressure to do anything and its kind of calming/relaxing esp after having to deal with teammates n whatnot during work

- wld watch you play games/do anything while he sits beside you, just enjoying your company even if he craves a little more but thats alright by him

acts of service

- lowkey such an act of service guy like even pre-relationship even if he makes excuses for him bc hes trying to be #idgaf

- the type to rush to your home with meds/food/everything if you text him youre sick after missing school

- i feel like. he just kind of enjoys the peacefulness of like cleaning and would do it whenever hes stressed (ignoring the loud music he listens to)

- would bring your necessities sometimes, and ends up at some point lending a hairtie to reo (he has a pack of hair ties bought for you at all times)

- anytime he goes out to get food/on the way home, he’ll always get a portion of what youd like just in case, and doeznt mind just eating it as leftover if you dont want it

- has a notepad on his phone on your favourite orders (drinks, meals, desserts etc)

- if youre forgetful, he’ll text you to remind you : whether that be to attend events/eat lunch at proper times/buy something

- would go back to the store if he didn’t buy what you wanted/if you wanted something else without any hesitation as long as it makes you smile even if he doesn’t admit it

- would learn how to take pictures for you on his own accord : you didn’t even realise until one day you pass him your digicam and suddenly he was an expert photographer compared to just months ago when. you started dating where his hand was blocking the camera

giving gifts

- has a matching necklace with you at all times and its his lucky charm and he’ll 100% kiss it before a game / when he wins the game

- shared wishlist on online stores except he stalks through yours and buys them for you randomly to surprise you

- if you have something spoiled/doesnt work as well, doesnt matter if its a home appliance/jeans that don’t fit etc, he’ll buy one for you without any hesitation when he goes out/on his phone

- gets you trinkets/keychains/stuff that reminds him of you including any sanrio/anime/designs you like / even your favourite food ie. chocolates/candies/chips from different countries he goes to for matches

- would notice if you wore his gifts or not and try to buy more things that you like more ie. if you like silver accessories more, he’ll buy more of those

- even during school days, he would 100% blow his money on arcades if you like to play claw machine/those rhythms games and watch you play and sometimes if you don’t get it, he’ll try to get them after his football training for you and pass it to you as nonchalantly as you can the next day

- always buys matching things: that bracelet he bought you? yup he has an exact pair in his drawers, feels its more meaningful and intimate

- if you ever ask for anything, just know he’s willing to give you that and the whole world and even the whole galaxy

-

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (pt.68)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 13.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.

The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.

You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.

You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.

You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.

Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.

You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.

You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.

He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.

Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.

You can’t.

You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.

It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.

You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.

We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.

Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.

You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.

“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.

The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.

Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-

“D-O-N-T”

His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.

“N-O”

You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.

“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:

“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”

Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”

Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.

“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.

You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.

You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.

“I promise, okay? I promise.”

Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.

The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.

He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.

Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-

“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”

As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.

Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.

You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.

His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.

He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.

It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.

Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.

Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.

Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?

You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.

Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.

Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).

Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.

Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.

You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.

Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.

A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.

The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.

"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"

"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."

"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."

Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.

“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”

“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”

“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.

“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”

They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.

Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.

No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.

Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.

(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)

The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.

You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.

Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.

Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?

You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.

You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.

Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.

“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”

It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.

But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.

He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.

He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.

“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.

“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”

It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.

At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.

You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.

When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.

You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.

Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.

You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.

You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-

Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.

Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.

If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give? 

You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage. 

It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.

Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too. 

Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"

Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.

You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring. 

Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway. 

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep. 

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air. 

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask.

Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.

Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?” 

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?” 

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child. 

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but- 

Namjoon would be a good father. 

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach. 

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button. 

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you. 

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in). 

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty. 

“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”

“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”

Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image. 

“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.

A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.

After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.

(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.

Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.

Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.

Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).

But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.

“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.

You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.

“That would be so nice Joonie."

You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.

“I really need to get a glass of water.”

Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.

“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.

You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.

“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.

“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.

The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.

Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.

Thump.

“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.

The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.

When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.

“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.

Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.

Thump

The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.

Thump

Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.

Thump, breath, thud.

Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.

Thud.

The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.

Thud

Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.

Thud

Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.

Thud thud thud

Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.

Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.

The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.

He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"

Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.

Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"

Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”

There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.

Could he catch up if he started running now?

It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”

Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”

"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.

“I don’t know, I don’t-"

Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.

“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”

“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.

Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."

Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”

Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.

“A deal- I think she made a deal.”

It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.

“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.

“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”

The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”

Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”

Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"

“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.

Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”

“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”

“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”

“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.

“Hobi?”

But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.

Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.

He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-

The train ticket is gone.

Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.

I’m sorry, I love you.

You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.

This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-

Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.

The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.

“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.

The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.

“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”

The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.

“You still got that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”

“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”

This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.

Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.

The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.

“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.

If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.

Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.

Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.

With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.

At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.

"Re-routing!"

“Wait Minnie- go left.”

“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.

“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.

“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.

“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.

Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.

Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.

Thud.

“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”

Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.

He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”

Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“What?"

Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."

Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”

The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.

Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.

"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."

"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.

Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”

Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?

Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.

“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”

Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.

"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.

“It could be the same name.”

Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.

“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”

Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.

Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.

Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.

Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"

“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”

Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.

“I did. She’s an omega.”

The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-

Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.

“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.

Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.

Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.

Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.

If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.

If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.

A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.

How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.

Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.

“Jimin, I need you to drive.”

~-~

Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-

Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”

“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.

Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.

“Tae? Where is everybody?”

“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”

Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.

Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”

Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.

“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”

“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”

Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.

“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”

“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.

"No- you can't-"

“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”

Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.

Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.

All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.

Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.

“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”

You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.

“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.

“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”

You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.

“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”

Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.

It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.

Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”

Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).

Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.

Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.

“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”

You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.

“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”

Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.

“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”

Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.

“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”

Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”

Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.

“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”

Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.

“They let them rest and gave them some food.”

Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.

“Cuddled them a little.”

Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.

“And when they put them back in,”

Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.

“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”

His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?

You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.

“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”

He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”

“Thank you for drying me off.”

The phone clicks and disconnects.

Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.

His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.

One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.

Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.

He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.

The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.

Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.

Namjoon cries.

Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.

~-~

(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)

“Shit!”

They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.

Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.

“Get back in the fucking car!”

Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.

“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.

Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.

Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.

“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.

“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.

“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.

“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“

Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”

“-if you see something say something.”

The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”

“Yoongi- Just go!”

There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.

They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.

Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.

But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.

Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.

Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.

He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.

Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.

They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.

By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.

In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.

~-~

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~-~

Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.

this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.

I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.

when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.

the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.

Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"

the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.

the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~

i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~

i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.

how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?

[skipper1331]

Everything and more // María León

a/n: based off this request and kinda this. Enjoy

Ale felt like she was talking to a wall.

The team was in their local pub, enjoying the day off after the el clasico win.

Mapi was sat next to you and Alexia and before Alexia could even start talking, the defender had only eyes for you. Your hand was resting comfortably on her thigh as you talked to Patri. Mapis skin was on fire, something she couldn‘t control when you were near or more than that, touching her. That girl was madly in love with you - a teenager romance.

You look at her - weak knees.

You talk to her - stuttering mess.

You hug her - wobbly wreck.

All in all, it didn‘t matter what you did or said at the end of the day Mapi would love you either way If not more.

Everything and more.

Looking at you with googly eyes, she couldn’t help but smile at you, lovingly.

After minutes of trying to get the blonde to engage in the conversation, Alexia just stopped and started talking to the other girls.

Every question towards Mapi fell to deaf ears as she admired you, heart skipping a beat at each of your smiles. María couldn‘t help but scoot closer to you, her arm around your waist as she bit her lip, eyes roaming over every inch of your body. "Amor" she whispered the conversation with Patri came to a stop due the waiter bringing new drinks, "can we go home?" she whined, her free hand wandering along your leg, inching closer to your private area.

"No"

Letting out a huff, she pulled her hand away from your leg yet not leaving your touch completely.

The next hour was the same as the first: Mapi fully obsessed with you and everything you do.

Every now and then she would whisper an 'i love you' in your ear with a sloppy needy kiss to your cheek.

"Drinks?" you asked the girls after awhile, slightly tipsy. They cheered in agreement. As you stood up, Mapi got up as well, not wanting leave your side. You looked at her confused, what was she doing? "I‘m helping youuu" she sang, grinning as her hand slipped in the back pocket of your jeans - claiming you as hers.

There were 3 stages of Mapi;

stage 1: sober - madly in love with and follows you like a puppy.

stage 2: tipsy/ little bit more - energetically in love with you and gets clingy.

stage 3: drunk/ wasted - crazily in love with you, clingy and follows you like a lost puppy.

And stage 2 was the case at the moment. Nevertheless, her jealousy was there at every stage, yet it wasn't the level that mattered but the person who you talked to/flirted with you - she was always jealous. It just depened on the person how much. "Baby, take a seat" you told her in a sweet voice, kissing her lips quickly. Mapi gave you her famous drunk-pout with crossed but didn‘t say anything. Though, she watched you like a hawk as you walked up to the bar. The team took the chance to talk to their friend with no success. With her eyes drained on your beautiful figure, her heart swooned at everything you did. It wasn‘t until a mid aged man came near you. Her lovestruck smile turned into a clenched jaw.

"Hey, i‘m sorry. Are you Y/l/n?" he asked, friendly.

"Yeah! How are you?" you replied, matching his friendly demeanor. "I don‘t want to bother you but my daugther - she’s 6" he showed you his lock screen, a little girl grinning widely as she held a Barcelona jersey in her hands. "That was her reaction when my wife and I gifted her your jersey. She‘s a really big fan."

"Thats really sweet!"

"Um, well, is there any chance I could take a photo with you or get an autograph somehow? Of course only if you agree with it a 100%"

As you thought of the little girl who had such a big smile on her face, your mind was made up quickly, "why don‘t we do both?"

It was clear to say she definitely got that bright smile from her father. "Thank you so much!"

As you took the picture with him, he made sure to have a respectable amount space between the two of you. And as you were about to scribble your signature on the napkin, you felt an arm snuggle around you. María. She pressed a kiss to your temple as she made her statement, "hola amor, ¿quién es?" she asked, glaring at the creature of a man. "This is-"

"Jack" he ended your sentence.

"His daughter is a big fan" you declared, knowing how her mind was working. Interwining your fingers, you calmed the defender down who had already made up a few scenarios in her mind what was going on and how to shoo him away. "Sign here too, love" you pointed at the napkin, smiling wide. You loved to make fans happy, something Mapi loved about you. She grabbed the pen, signing the napkin as well with a little heart next to yours. Again, a silent statement. You knew it meant something but not what exactly. Her mind was working in a strange possessive clingy way when it came to you, the love of her life.

Jack thanked the both of you, walking back to his table as you turned around on the bar stool. You didn‘t say anything, just raised an brow. "Don‘t give me that look, mi vida. He- he was flirting and i-" she tried to defend herself, babbling about the man who actually turned out to be really nice, something she didn‘t expect.

"you got soo jealous because someone who isn‘t you was talking to me, hm?" you mocked her, giggling at the defeated look on her face.

Kissing away her pout, you mumbled a "te amo" against her lips, her heart skipping a beat like always. As she ordered the tables drinks, she had her arms around you, minding her own business - you - as the two of you waited. She pressed kisses all over your face, loving the laughter that came in respond.

"There you are!" Patri yelled as you finally arrived at the table with drinks.

María placed the tray of drinks on the table, not saying anything as she sat down on the chair, Alexia looked at you, why was she having a frown on her face. Rolling your eyes, you answered her question: Mapi was being Mapi.

As you were about to walk to your own seat the defender pulled at your hips - her lap was now your new seat. "Don’t say anything" she grumbled.

"Your drinks" the new waitress said as she stared at you with hungry eyes. Of course, Mapi noticed the behavior of the lady. Already with Marías hands around your body, the waitress didn‘t seem to mind that you were clearly in a relationship, your girl right next to you.

As her arms hugged your waist, her fingers lacing together, to hold you tight, your arm went around her shoulder. "She was totally eye-fucking you" she stated again, claiming that the bartender had the hots for you. You looked at her, absently, playing with a strand of loose hair, "baby, how many times do I have to tell you, I don‘t care"

"Well, I do!" drowning her drink, she carried on, "they all do, all the time! We can‘t go out without someone flirting or eye-fucking you"

"María, why do you care so much about it? I‘m yours" you whispered, forehead leaning against the defender. "I don‘t know, something it’s just- my mind doesn‘t like the thought of you with someone else"

"Do you want to go home?" you asked, the defender at the verge of tears, more than one drink in her body showing their work. She just mumbled a yes in your chest as she hugged you like a toddler "te amo mi vida, te amo mucho"

Saying bye to the girls, they understood the matter, well Alexia understood, the only one who had one drink the whole night. Besides she was Mapis best friend, she knew her well enough. With some complains of the girls, you left anyways. Marías arm around your mid section on the way home, every so often pressing kisses to your cheek, jaw and temple. She would have prefered if she could have carried you home but nonetheless happy that you were in her grasp and hers general.

At home, the girl didn‘t leave your side, "¿beso?" she asked as you took of your shoes. You did as she wished, pressing a peck to her lips, the defender smiling happily as she did a little jump.

In the kitchen, she hugged you from behind, kissing along your neck and bare shoulder, loving you the way you deserved.

"¿beso?"

"Sí, beso" puckering her lips, she waited for you to press yours on her own. When you did, her skin caught fire. She pushed you against the counter, kissing the life out of you. She loved to kiss you.

In the bathroom, as you were about to brush your teeth, she again asked the question that haunted you since the moment you left the bar, "¿beso?" Of course you kissed her, you loved it just as much as the defender to kiss one another. It made your heart race, skin tingle, soul happy and mind spin.

In bed, Mapi laying on top of you with her head hidden in your neck, she mumbled inaudible words.

"You want to have a kiss right?" you asked giggling.

"No" she answered to your surprise.

"No?"

"No. quiero un beso de buenas noches" she pressed featherlight kisses to your jaw, loving the way your breath hitched at her touch. It was your turn to say "no"

"No?"

"No"

Quickly the defender sat up, staddling your waist as she glared while frowning at you, "¿por que?"

"Said so" giving her the bitchy-shoulder-gesture, you tried to hold in your laugh as you could see the dots working in her brain. "No no no, you love me and I love you so bésame" she demanded, leaning down, prompting her weight on her arms as they rested dangerously close next to your head, "¡bésame!" she grumbled, an inch away. You could feel her breath against your lips, your own hitching at the slight hand movement along your exposed stomach. "Amor, bésame" she now whined, "pretty please" giving you puppy dog eyes, you had to give in, your hands cupped her cheeks, poking them, "so needy" you giggled.

Staring at one another with so much love in each others eyes, you both leaned in, lips touching ever so gentle. It was more than just a good night kiss, it was kiss so soft and loving that meant everything for the both of you.

I love you.

You‘re everything to me.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

Every love confession in the world wouldn’t have been enough to describe what you felt in that moment.

Everything and more.

————————

[chaosandmarigolds]

Tic-Tac-Toe

based on this!! amazing ask!!

.. -. / - …. . / -. .- -- . / --- ..-. / --. --- -..

To look at and to listen to is one things, something that would click immediately within your mind if you had seen it- however, to feel it is something you weren't fully aware you could do. Small taps on your thigh when you would be sitting next to him in the mess hall, laughing to one of Johnny's absurd jokes. Feeling the dashes on the palm of your hand as you walked through the corridors on slow nights.

- --- / -... . / -- .. -. .

Sure you had always known that the Simon Riley had a hard time saying things, he was a flirt to the random girls at the bar but to the people he truly cared about; it was like stumbling through a sentence was the easiest thing for him. So you had resigned to accept his nonverbal acts of affection. Allowing yourself to be content with soft kisses in lieu of words.

- --- / .... .- ...- . / .- -. -.. / - --- / .... --- .-.. -..

It wasn't that he was unaffectionate, quite the opposite, it was that he couldn't show it how he so deeply wanted to. The words would get caught in his throat and they would come out a half kidding banter, like a dig into the psyche. All the same, what he felt for you was something so deep and profound that not even he could dare put it into words. So he would maybe whisper them against your skin when he knew you were too asleep to even know he was awake, he would let his touch linger.

..-. --- .-. / -... . - - . .-. / .- -. -.. / ..-. --- .-. / .-- --- .-. ... .

You didn't think much of the taps, you summed it up to a nervous tic, or maybe something he found comforting. After all, since before you had been dating you always knew he liked to be moving some part of his body, if it be rubbing that frayed edge of his jacket or lightly tapping the palm of your hand.

- --- / .-.. --- ...- .

It didn't click, how he would climb into bed after a long day and how his hand would almost mindlessly move on its own, tapping the skin of your hip as he tried to squeeze into you as if you would vanish if he didn't. You didn't realize the important of the faint kisses on the nape of your neck and how they were oh so perfectly timed to be some sort of code.

Until it was a code.

.- -. -.. / - --- / -.-. .... . .-. .. ... ....

" Hol on, Hol on, /m gettin somthin."

You look to Johnny from where you were currently desperately trying to fix the radio, the thick smog limiting your sight and the burn of the gas in your lungs making it hard to breathe. With a heaved breath you push yourself up to stand and then sink back to your knees where Johnny had been trying to see if the truck's radio worked- a mission gone south left you and he, separated from Simon, leaving him in the building.

It was silent until the beeping came over the radio and it...felt so familiar yet you couldn't place your hand on it, it was like a deja-vu feeling within your gut- "It's morse code- God, I forgot that was still a thing."

Johnny looks up at you and then gives you a weak laugh, "Yea, hol' on," as he spoke he took out a pen and paper and began to scribble down the dashes and lines.

"Think it's him?"

"He's tha' only un' tha' knows it."

..- -. - .. .-.. / -.. . .- - .... / .--. .- .-. - ... / ..- ...

"Johnny?" It had taken the man a few seconds to write down the repeating message, then a few more to translate it.

"Johnny is it him? Is he okay?"

There was no silence, the hiss of the storm raging outside and the faint roar of gunfire from the battle you had just been ordered to flee. Yet everything was so slow, he wasn't speaking, he looked almost sorrowful.

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- --..--/ ... --- / -- ..- -.-. .... / -.. --- ...- .

"He loves you. He said he loves you so much."

.. -- / ... --- (.-. .-.) -.--

"He's sorry."

(annnnway thats all! any feedback, comments or ideas you got trust me I wanna hear them! <333)

[the-laughing-lunatic]

uhhhchhdhfhdhd can you maybe do something with the mercs (all 9 if thats cool, but if not then just sniper and medic!!) with a reader that cant sleep so they just. go to their room and ask if they can cuddle with them

(ofc! This was rlly fun to write, I’ll prolly write for all of them later if yall are interested enough :> thx for requesting!)

Medic and Sniper with a reader asking for cuddles (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Sniper☆

He’s a tad confused when you show up to his camper van

I mean, he’d never turn down cuddling you, that’d be bloody stupid of him

“Why you wanna cuddle with me though, mate? I don’t exactly got the most comfortable sleepin’ conditions.”

“Because it’s you, Mick. If you don’t want to, that's fine.”

“Woah, woah, mate you’re twisting my words. I mean, I’d love that. Uh, come in I guess.”

Bro is so awkward omg- 

Does not know how to initiate physical contact at all so he just kind of stands until you lay down on the bed

The bed in his van is already really small so it forces you two to be even closer

He doesn’t really like being super close, but he likes to have an arm around you to have that connection

Kind of guy that needs noise to sleep, he’d be perfectly content to listen to you ramble about anything as he holds you.

Very light sleeper, def gets up in the middle of the night a few times but he’d be very careful not to disturb your sleep

He really does enjoy holding you and would like to do it more, but will absolutely not unless you ask first

In the morning he’ll fix you coffee and fairy bread to be polite

Really wants to do that again but will absolutely not ask you, way too awkward for that

☆Medic☆

You had gone to Medic’s bedroom to ask him if you two could cuddle…but he wasn’t there

You went to his lab next, where he sat hunched over his desk, frantically scribbling away on some papers. “Ohoho! Hello mein fruend, I didn’t notice you. What do you need?”

“I can’t sleep, can we cuddle?”

“If you wish, you may sit here while I work.”

You’d sit in his lap as he continued to write something or other, with one of his arms wrapped around your waist

It was nice for a bit, he’s big and warm, but it was too uncomfortable to actually try to sleep and you were tired

“Mm, Ludwig, when do you actually go to bed?”

“Ahehe, I think around one or two,” he said sheepishly.

“You think?”

“I normally just pass out at my desk.”

“...okay, we’re going to bed now,” you said, getting off his lap and dragging him to his bed

He’d (begrudgingly) come along after a lot of complaining about how he needed to get the work done

He likes having you lay on top of him, it calms him down to feel the weight of you (he def has a weighted blanket on the rare nights he sleeps in his bed)

Traces your skin and absentmindedly talks about where each of your organs are underneath 

He falls asleep very quickly, you have to take his glasses off and place them on the nightstand (mf wears glasses while he sleeps, they’re crooked as hell)

His grip is so tight even as he sleeps though, you wanna move? Ain’t gonna happen anytime soon.

In the morning bro is always awake before you, no matter how early you get up 

If he’s feeling quirky maybe you’ll get breakfast in bed

(He may put caffeine in your food at dinner so you wont be able to sleep and you’ll cuddle him, until you catch him–)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[aanoia]

I Don't Know Who You're Talking About

Remus Lupin x reader words; 2817 warnings; angst, blood, sad, murder, the usual part two this is so cutesy (NOT!) I wrote this on my phone in the car so if there's any mistakes thats my excuse. Also Y/m/n stands for your/marauders/nickname because ofc you're a Marauder and of course you're an animagus. like duh.

“Remus, it's a full moon tonight, you can't go. We can't risk that.” I persisted, staring holes into the back of the boy's head.

He turned around angrily, “Why does it even matter, Y/n?” He yelled, and a drop of spit flew from his lips. “After everything that's happened, you're gonna stop me from going to that traitors trial?”

“If you're gonna act like this, yes! I am going to stop you.” I yelled back, taking a step towards him as my voice softened. “And we don't know if Sirius was framed or not, he's our best friend. Do you really think he'd do something like this?”

Remus shook his head, his shoulders dropping, “I think it doesn't matter, because James and Lily are dead. And Peter! Someone needs to be punished for it, and all the signs point to him.”

I frowned, “I don't think he did it.”

“Well, you think wrong.” Remus said, turning back around and walking out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

“Remus, I swear to Merlin, if you apparate to the Ministry-” I was cut off by the loud cracking noise of apparition. He didn't even grab his coat.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I said coolly as I sat next to Remus. He shook his head, anger radiating from his skin.

“You're ridiculous.” He muttered and I scoffed. 

“There's no way you're taking your frustration out on me, right now.” I flashed a smile at a woman I recognized from Hogwarts, she smiled back sadly. I focused in on the middle of the room, where an empty cage was being rolled out. 

“I can't even talk to you. You’re so annoying.” Remus stood up but was stopped as a new cage was rolled in. I gently pulled him back down as we stared at Sirius. He was caged and muzzled like a dog. 

Remus squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back. Sirius’ clothes were torn, his usual fancy jacket he stole from his mother covered in dirt and blood. He looked around the room frantically, eyes wide and tears streaming down his cheeks. He made eye contact with me and placed his hands on the bars, silently begging me to believe that he didn't do this, he could never. 

I gave him a look of worry as the Minister cleared his throat, “Sirius Black, son of Orion and Walburga Black, you are here today under the accusation of working with He Who Must Not Be Named and the murder of twelve muggles, one witch, Lily Potter, and two wizards, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. How do you plead?”

The moment the muzzle was off his mouth he answered hastily. “Not guilty!” Sirius screamed, his voice shaky and broken. He shook in his cage, “I didn't do it, please! I would never hurt my frie-”

“Silence!” Crouch demanded, holding his hand up, his ring glinted in the candlelight. “We need not hear more.” He scribbled on a piece of parchment and handed it to the boy standing next to him. The boy studied the paper.

He nodded, “Of course, sir.” He left the room quickly.

There were quiet whispers floating around the room, speculating what the young boy could possibly be searching for. 

“Now, because there seems to be a lack of witnesses, which I am sure is just how you wanted it to be, unfortunately we cannot blindly believe that you are innocent.” The boy came back into the room, holding a small vial of clear liquid.

“Veritaserum.” Remus mumbled and I nodded. 

“It's a good idea.” I whispered.

The vial was brought up to Sirius’ lips, who drank it willingly, thankful to finally have a good alibi. 

“I will ask you plain and simply, did you reveal the hidden location of James and Lily Potter to the Dark Lord, resulting in them being murdered and their son orphaned?”

Sirius shook his head, “I did not.” My shoulders relaxed as it felt as if a weight had been lifted. Remus still looked at him coldly, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Did you murder that group of muggles, and your own friend, Peter Pettigrew, leaving behind only his finger?”

“No, I did not.”

The room was silent as Crouch thought. They glanced between the man behind bars and the one upon a podium, his stare belittling. He glanced at the empty bottle on his desk, and back to Sirius before whispering to a man beside him. 

I glanced at Sirius who was already looking at us. He gave me a small smile and I returned it. 

“It is probable.” The man said quietly, but still in earshot. 

Crouch nodded and banged his hammer, “It has been decided. The Veritaserum that was given to was a flake. So, under Mr. Barty Crouch, Minister of Magic, you plead guilty, and are sentenced to life in Azkaban.”

Some people cheered, others let out yells of protest. Remus slipped away, walking out of the room angrily. 

“No, that's rubbish.” I yelled as he began to be rolled away. He screamed in fear, going crazy inside of the cage.

I stood up and pushed past people, carefully jumping down to the floor and below the Minister. The room silenced again and the cage stopped dragging across the floor. Everyone had their eyes on me. 

“Let me talk to him.”

Crouch looked amused, “Miss-”

“It is only a custom. Tradition, even. You must allow me a word with Sirius Black before you send him off. It's in the books.”

Crouch glanced at the book as the boy flipped to the pages. He sighed as he read the words, telling him that it was indeed allowed for loved ones to speak with the person before they are sent off. 

“I'm afraid he cannot be out of his cage, it is not up for discu-”

“I can talk through the bars, can I not?”

“Fine. Follow them.”

I followed them out quietly, ignoring the angry stares I got from people, even the spit that they shot at me, landing right in front of my feet. Once we were in the hall, the men stood to the side and I walked up the cage hastily, putting my hands on the bars.

“Sirius, I'm going to ask you this once, and only once, and I need you to tell me the truth. Whatever you say, I will believe you. Did you or did you not kill James and Lily?”

Sirius looked me straight in the eyes, desperate, “Y/n, please, I would never.”

“It's a yes or no question.”

“No. I didn't.” 

I paused, before grabbing his hand through the bars, “I believe you. It's okay, I'll figure this out.”

His eyes filled with tears again and being this close I could see the heavy bags below his eyes. His hair was a ratty mess and his skin was blemished and dirty. 

“Did you know she was pregnant?” Sirius asked and my eyes widened.

“She was?”

“Yeah. They were going to tell us all on Christmas, but James let it slip to me.”

I took a deep breath, “Oh my.”

There was a moment of silence between us, neither daring to break the quiet atmosphere.

“Does Remus hate me?” He whispered and my heart broke. 

“I don't know.” I answered honestly and he nodded, his eyes averting to the bottom of the cage.

“I didn't kill them. I'd never. He was my best friend, my brother.” Sirius began sobbing. “I've already lost him, and Lily. I've lost my godson. And now Remus. I can’t lose you, Y/n/n, I can’t.” he cut himself off with a gasp.

“It's time to go.” One of the men said, beginning to drag him away.

“I can’t lose you!” Sirius yelled as he was dragged away. 

“You won’t.” I whispered before I looked up at the man as he was dragged away, “Sirius! I love you!”

He smiled sadly, “I love you too, Y/m/n!”

I rubbed my hands together quickly as I walked up to the front door. I placed my hand on the freezing knob and opened it, silently cursing myself for not locking it before I left.

It was half an hour until sundown, so I immediately apparated home to help prepare Remus - and myself - for the night. It was probably going to be one of the hardest he's ever experienced, and I felt terrible for him. 

“Remus?” I called out, only to get no response. I furrowed my brows taking my jacket off slowly, “Baby, I know you're mad but I still want to help you tonight.” Still, nothing.

I set down my bag and slipped off my shoes before quietly walking to the bedroom.

“Rem?” I asked softly, pushing open the door and expecting to see him sitting on the bed, head between his hands as he cried softly.

But he wasn't. In fact the room seemed to be the same as it was before I left. The bathroom was dark and empty. No sign of Remus anywhere.

I walked to the kitchen, hoping to find him sipping from a mug of tea while staring out the window, like he usually is. But there was nothing.

I slipped on my coat and threw on my shoes, ignoring my bag as I quickly left the house. I pulled out the flip phone Remus had insisted on us getting.

“For easier communication.” He’d say.

I struggled to work the muggle device, but managed to send a quick ‘where r u?!’ text. At this point, the sun was beginning its descent and the full moon shone brightly.

I paused for a moment, thinking of any possible place he could be. 

“The Shrieking Shack.” I said quietly to myself, immediately apparating to the raggedy house. 

However, just like our own, it was also completely empty, save for one man. 

“Professor Dumbledore?” I asked quietly. The older man turned around and smiled gently. I didn't fail to notice the tears he wiped from his cheeks.

“Ah, Miss L/n, or is it Lupin, yet?” Dumdledore asked.

I shook my head, “Not yet, no. But speaking of the man, has he been here?”

Dumbledore looked around, “No, I'm afraid not.” He glanced out of the window, at the light in the darkening sky. “It is a full moon tonight, isn't it?”

I stood beside him with a sigh, “That it is.”

“And the night of Sirius’ trial as well, what unfortunate timing.”

“I'd have to agree.”

“You cannot find him?”

I turned around and leaned against the window sill, “No. We were fighting, before the trial. It's been rough for everyone and we took it out on each other.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Ah, it happens. I suppose, however, you should spend less time with this old man, and more time finding who I would assume to be a werewolf by now.”

I opened my mouth to answer but was cut off by a loud howl. The sun had completely dipped below the horizon, and the werewolves were born. 

“Well, it seems you'd be correct.”

“Was that him?” Dumbledore asked.

I shook my head, “No, his howl is deeper. I assume that was a female.”

“Ah.”

I shifted my feet, feeling awkward. “Uhm, I'm gonna go look for him.”

“Take a blanket.” Dumdledore said, handing me a brown bundle of cloth.

“Thank you.”

“Go.”

I nodded and pushed open the door. I sighed at the heavy snowfall, looking into the distant trees. It was going to be a long night.

The tears started as the sun made an appearance again. The weight of everything finally hitting and pressure built behind my eyes.

“Remus, please, where are you?” I called out, my voice hoarse and salty tears slipped into my mouth. I wiped the running snot from my upper lip, my shoulders shaking.

I passed a tree and the bright color of red caught my eye. A blood trail. I followed it eagerly, a small sob leaving my lips and I clutched tightly onto the blanket. It led behind a rock, where my heart broke.

Remus lay there, naked and in a fetal position. He had long cuts all along his body and the snow around him was trained red. He shivered in the snow and his lips were blue.

He glanced at me weakly, sadness filling his eyes. “Y/n.” He whispered, his voice almost non existent. 

I snapped out my daze and grabbed onto him, quickly pulling him to his feet and wrapping the blanket around him. He clutched onto me and cried, I cried with him. 

I apparated to the house silently and he fell to his knees, I followed him, holding him in the kneeling position. 

“It’s okay.” I whispered, biting back my own tears as he sobbed. “It’s okay.”

He cried, “It’s not!”

“Remus, let me clean you.” I said softly, wiping my tears after a few long moments. 

“Okay.” He whispered, staring ahead blankly. 

It was quiet, again, as I cleaned and bandaged. A few times he'd cry again, and I'd let him, figuring it was better to continue what I'm doing. I led him to bed and closed the curtains so the sun didn't shine through. 

“Do you feel better?” I asked quietly once I got into bed.

“I'm not sure I feel much of anything, right now.” Remus said, facing his back towards me.

I looked at him sadly and turned over, closing my eyes and finally letting sleep overtake me.

When I woke up the bed was empty. I sighed, assuming he was in the kitchen or living room. I used the bathroom and walked out of the bedroom. I walked out into the living room.

“Remus?” I asked. He wasn't there. I looked into the kitchen and he wasn't to be seen. The deja vu of the night before was prominent. “Are you serious?”

A note sat neatly on the fridge. I glanced at the magnet, it was a picture of Remus and I smiling wide, faces pressed against each other. We got it from a muggle - or no-maj - vendor when we visited america. I noticed the second one we had was gone. I shook my head and took the note from beneath the magnet. 

I immediately recognized the handwriting as Remus’. I stared at the letter, the one assigned to me. The last letter of my name was splotchy, stained with a tear. 

I gently tore open the letter.

Dear Y/n,

I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I'm so sorry for what I'm doing.

I am so scared. With James, Lily, and Peter dead, and Sirius in Azkaban, I just don't know what to do.

You mean the world to me. You're perfect, beautiful, intelligent, witty, talented, you're everything good and nothing bad. At this point you are the world for me.

 Which is why I have to do this. I can't drag you down to darkness with me, I'd never forgive myself. I know this will hurt you, it's hurting me too, but I also know you can get through this. 

I want you to be happy, and I think that's impossible if I’m in your life. So I'm taking the liberty to leave it. My stuff will be magically transported once I find a place to stay, keep the house, you deserve it more than I do.

I love you more than life itself. 

with the deepest of regrets,

Remus

P.S. you are worth EVERYTHING! don't ever settle for the bare minimum.

I dropped the letter and stared out of the window. The snow fell gently, piling up on the ground. It felt rather similar to the quiet tears dripping down my face. In the span of four weeks, I had lost everyone important to me. I didn't realize I had any tears left to cry.

I suppose I'll have to get a dog to keep me company now. 

“Welcome, Professor L/n.” Dumbledore greeted.

I smiled at the group of teachers that came to welcome me. “Thank you, I appreciate all of you. Especially you, Minnie.” I said with a wink and Professor McGonagall laughed wetly, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

“Okay okay, let's not suffocate her on her first day. Dinner is in an hour, I trust you to find your room.” Dumbledore said and I nodded as the teachers dispersed.

“Severus.” I called out and the man stopped in his tracks. I walked over as he turned around and pulled him into a tight hug. He looked at me weirdly once I pulled away. “I know you loved her too.”

He knew exactly who I was talking about, “I have no idea who you're talking about.”

“I know you don't.” I smiled and began walking towards my room. 

“I’m sorry about Lupin.” He said and I paused. 

“I have no idea who you're talking about.”

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[keimunnn]

HEYYY 😝😝

I was hoping you could make a Korra x f!reader fic set way after Book 4. They both live together basically and reader was staying up late finishing up work. Korra was waiting impatiently for her in the bedroom but she couldn't take it anymore and practically carried you to bed. After a few hours of sleeping, work was the only thing in reader's mind and she wanted to finish it asap. She tried to crawl out of Korra's embrace but she failed iykyk (I WANT HER TO THROW ME AGAINST THE WALL SO BAD HER MUSCLES ARE AUGGHH) Korra woke up due to the reader squirming in her grasp and her clinginess spurs reader on.

Just cute tooth rotting fluff <33

aww thats cute 😭👊 I'M SOOOO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG !! at some point i kind of actually forgot i had some requests going on 😓 really sorry about that huehuehuehu <//3 MOVING ON!

five minutes

KORRA + F!READER

warnings: none. just fluffy fluff ! korra wants you to just rest up and stay put in bed ! pretty short

•

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•

korra's eye twitched, impatient at the fact her dearest lover was still staying up late at this time of night. it was nearly after midnight, yet you were stilling finishing up some details and texts for some kind if paperwork—and korra wasn't up for that. you've been busy for pretty much a week for some kind of project your company assigned you for. groaning in annoyance, korra sat up from the bed and walked towards your little makeshift office in the living room.

she leaned against the living room wall, slumping her back against it with her arms crossed, a finger tapping against the skin of her hand impatiently.

"how long are you supposed to take? come to bed already."

the avatar demanded, her eyes narrowing at your slouched figure on the floor's carpet. your paperwork was all over the place, well not really. but it was still kind of messy. the sounds of scribbling and turning of pages were heard in response, to which only irked korra even more. she sighed in defeat, before puffing her chest and walking towards you. silently creeping behind you, both of her hands decided to jump on your shoulders and startle you, making you whip your head to her direction with a flinch.

"geez, korra. you scared me for a sec—"

"if you don't get your ass off of your little papers right now, i'm carrying you to the bed and tie you up."

of course, korra wasn't exactly serious about the tying up part. but if you do try and escape, she probably has to. you only slumped back, looking back at your papers on the table. "i'm almost done, i promise. maybe just a teeny weeny little more and i'll join you in bed, okay?"

she only shook her head, raising a brow as if to tell you she didn't believe a word you said.

"five minutes, then you're out." korra held up her hand, all five fingers indicating the minutes she's giving you before she would practically drag you into the bedroom if you don't comply. you only laughed in response, nodding at her with a roll of your eyes. "fine, fine. five minutes."

after a while, korra's eye twitched again when it's almost been ten minutes since the agreement. you were too immersed into your work to even notice. your lover only extended it to see if you'd actually realize it's been over the specific time you guys have agreed on—but you didn't, unfortunately. korra huffed, rolling her sleeves up and walked back towards you, a glint of playfulness in them.

"alright, times up!" korra announced, already lifting you up from the ground without a warning. your eyes widened, trying to scramble away from her hold before she immediately had you swung over her shoulder like you weighed nothing. you whined, reaching out for the papers like they were your children.

"korra! i wasn't even—!"

"it's been over nine minutes. i'm not sleeping without you in the damned bed." korra retorts, heading to the bedroom and placed you down on the side of your bed. you only groaned softly, feeling her limbs cage you completely in place.

"darling, you don't have to restrain me like this." you sighed out, your body stiff under the covers korra had placed on the both of you. she only shook her head, softly glaring at you with her blue eyes. "if i don't, i know you're going to try and escape. don't try me."

you shook your head in disbelief, giving in to your lover's embrace. "okay fine, i'll sleep."

•

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•

you did not in fact sleep a wink. and it was around two in the morning. your body was stiff, itching to get back to work to finish out some documents and files you've been wanting to end for a week now. it was almost finished, you thought. sneakily, you lift the covers up and tried to slide out of them, slightly shuffling around to sit on the edge of the bed. you sighed out once you saw korra had no signs of stirring in her sleep. quietly, and surely, you slowly started to stand up to tiptoe away and finish your papers.

then, out of nowhere—strong arms wrapped themselves around you swiftly, pulling you back into bed with a soft "oof!"

"where do you think you're going?" korra asked groggily, pulling you beside her with her furrowed eyebrows. she still had her eyes closed from how tired she was, it was cute in a way. you groaned, giving up under her hold. "was trying to finish work..." you murmured, sulking inside her embrace.

you soon relaxed though, internally drooling from how strong her arms were wrapped around you to stop you from going anywhere, trying to hide it away with your huffing.

"just sleep and do it tomorrow... or i'm actually considering the tying you up part." korra gave you a sidelong glare. it wasn't anything heavy, but it gave out a teasing vibe whilst she was tired. her arms loosened around you, placing her head on your chest just in case and snuggled against them.

"just stay with me right now." korra mumbled.

your gaze softened along those lines, smiling down at her with a hand patting onto her hair. leaning your head down a bit, you placed a gentle kiss on her exposed forehead, giving a small smooch and giggle. fluttering your eyes closed, you let out a sigh of content.

"fine."

•

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AGAIN, SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG 😭 ILY ALL MWAH

[fandomwritinga]

nitoku is cute, like hes NERDY HUT HES CUTE. like imagine nitoku’s taking pics of u in suggestive outfits and hes all like “oh i wanna use you as reference for my literature “ but in reality he just wants to keep pics of his partner being all sexy !!(n maybe jerk off to them when ur not there)

OH MY GOD NITOKU MY LIVE

I fr love how he looks

Anyways i made it nsfw i hope thats ok😵‍💫

Nitokuuuu

- my beloved

-

- So

- You start to think its weird when you read his stories and none of them have anything to do with the outfits

- But hey maybe he just hasnt showed you the ones that he needed the pics for !

- Yes thats it! Right?

- When he first brought it up he had some shame in him

- Afraid you were gonna laugh at him

- But you didnt

- Awwww… he cant believe just how nice you are to him!

- But just how far is he gonna go?

- The first time was just a pose of two characters really close to each other

- The fact that he had a hard on is besides the point

- The next time he needed something he gave you a whole outfit!

- You were a bit surprised to say the least but he is your partner you will surely help him out

- What you didnt think tho was that he is gonna take pictures

- But dont worry he will delete them !!

- Just give him some time to finish the story!! And surely he will delete them !!

- The poses keep getting more suggestive and intimate

- You keep complaining about the pictures but you dont push it

- The reason you dont is cuz you caught him jerking off to the pictures

- You think as long as its just for him there is no harm

- But you wont lie that the last one was your favorite

- He gave you a robe similar to his

- You were naked under it

- And so was he

- Safe to say you decided to get back at him

- You slowly spread your legs even tho the script didnt need it

- He was very surprised

- But you said its a better story this way! And he listened like a lost puppy

- He just kept looking at you, admiring you

- Your curves, your soft skin

- The robe is now of you shoulders and he is on his knees on the floor

- Painfully hard

- You start to push your hand between your legs

- He does the same

- Just until you stop him

- “W-what?!” You stop him because after all the script is about a lonely woman so you must act on your own

- He looks defeated at you

- You just continue your fun, toying with him

- You start pleasing your self, lost in the feeling, you dont notice him moving towards the script

- He grabs the script and scribbles something on it

- By the time you realize, you guys are fucking, robes still on

- You are on top and he is doing everything to keep you moving

- He is whining, bucking his hips, pleading for you to keep moving but you dotn move

- You know he is a fighter, way stronger than you, but you know he would never use his strength agains you

- You check the script for the part he scribbled in

- “Woman gets to cum thanks to sex by man”…. “Is this your life greatest work?” You look at him

- He just looks back and says “i was in a hurry” and bucks his hips into you

- You both let out a chuckle

- Your hands are on him, touching him constantly

- So you decide to have fun for a bit more

- You start riding him

- He is getting loud, talking about how nicely you squeeze him, how he cant wait to cum in you!

- But then you suddenly stop

- You get off and walk towards the door

- “No! no! Please! Where-wha” he asks sadly and surprisedly, still laying on the floor

- You naked body still partially coved by the robe turns around to him, your back facing him now as you just look back at him

- Your hand brushes the robe away from your ass, bending over a bit, you bum now fully sticking out

- “I think there were a few more scenarios and poses that the script had, right?”

- He looks baffled

- “YES!” He yells out

- He starts getting up and you just throw your robe at him, now fully naked

- He looks at you in awe as you run away into the house butt naked

- He smiles and takes his robe off too running after you laughing and blue balled :)

- Who knows what else was in the script?

[moonshynecybin]

have we talked about what valentine’s day looks like for rosquez. post-reconciliation imo it’s vale going overboard sending marc 500 roses it’s an instagram photo dump showing him off with a borderline-obscene caption (imagine they’ve gone public. perhaps in the aftermath of the coming out au?) it’s custom la perla and solid gold nipple clamps. marc secretly glowing abt being showered in affection it’s proof vale loves him and isn’t going to leave him

also im just putting this together but isn’t valentine’s day like. the day of vale’s name? something like that? EVEN MORE reason for him to be super into it.

let’s not talk abt 2013-2015 valentine’s day…

you are a genius who has predicted something i was literally already writing!!!!! he absolutely gets him hot girl sex gifts for their valentine's day slash joint birthday week which is the hot girl sex gift SUPERBOWL for them. personally i was thinking lingerie and i wrote a tiny fic (~500 words) about it thats under the cut! get outta my brain !

There’s package sitting inside Marc’s motorhome, after testing.

That's not unusual in itself. It’s his birthday tomorrow, and he’s been fielding various gifts from his sponsors for the last few days, all brightly colored hats and huge sunglasses— messages from whatever company, carefully typed on impersonal letterhead. But this one feels different. It’s unmarked, the box a smooth white cream— not very tall, but wide. Marc crosses to the table the box is resting on and lifts off the lid, testing the weight. It’s heavier than it looks, well made.

It’s clearly expensive.

Once he sets the lid to the side,the first thing his eyes catch on is tissue paper, delicate and silvery, folded neatly. A small card made of thick paper is nestled on top, just over where the carefully arranged wrapping conjoins. He picks it up.

Marc, familiar handwriting spells, and Marc smiles. He knows who sent this. It's not one of his sponsors. Thought this would suit you, I hope you like it. -Vale. There’s a small heart scribbled after the message, followed by a cartoon turtle, unhurried and messy. Beloved.

But it’s still not Valentino’s usual style, and Marc raises an eyebrow, curious. It's actually not technically his birthday, its the day before— it’s Vale’s birthday, and there’s not a lot he wouldn’t give Marc in person, especially when they've been floating around the same paddock. Typically, if Vale is going to give him something, he likes to be there. Likes to lay back and watch Marc’s face as he opens whatever elegantly wrapped treasure he’s picked out for him, eyes greedy on Marc’s expression.

He likes to know that Marc enjoys the things he gives him.

So it’s notable, that he isn’t here. That he left this in Marc's motorhome while he was testing on track, just before Vale was scheduled to spend a little bit of time running things through with his academy riders. He had wanted Marc to find this alone. To turn over what to do with it. Contemplate any possibilities.

Marc's skin feels too warm, too sensitive, the cool air of the motorhome giving him goosebumps. His thumb lingers in the edge of the tissue paper, feeling its thin edges, reveling in the sensation. In the way the anticipation fills him up, a pleasant buzz that thrums under his skin.

It's not dissimilar from the moment before a race, that knifes edge of expectation.

He bites his lip and opens the present, carefully moving the paper away to reveal what’s inside. Something silky catches against his knuckles. He stops.

It’s Vale’s birthday, he remembers.

This isn’t a gift for him, exactly. Pale yellow silk and lace greets him, delicate. Carefully constructed. Marc doesn’t have to check to know they’re in his size.

He grins.

[lemongogo]

what's your process for coloring like? the look of that elendira is so textured and interesting, i can't figure out how you do it

AA THANK YOUU ^__^ !! textures & brushwork are my favorite things abt my art, so im happy you find it interesting hehe . its SOO cool to look at & so much fun to draw imo

i prefer to color by building in layers , if that makes sense 🤔!! hundreds of them !! such that i'm always drawing on Top of previous layers, working from big & messy blocks of color to, eventually, small and refined blocks of color until it feels processed enough. as a result, i rarely ever erase (!!) and i rarely ever draw lineart aside from the initial sketch

a rough, patchy textured brush is key here, as it'll give you dimension and variability w/ your colors. i recommend "Brush and various sets of fountain pen style (万年筆��ブラシと色々セット)" on Clip Studio (ID: 1679706) !! :3

im terrible with explanations though, so i'm going to show a step by step of that elendira drawing if you dont mind :3

sketch layer !! because i mostly render through color alone, i try to make this as close to the finished thing as possible . ^__^ i hateee drawing the same thing over and over and like the expressivity and movement of my sketches anyways , so the more i can preserve at this step, the better. if u were to look at a side by side of my sketches and finished pieces, youd notice a lot of those og lines are present in the final drawing :3

2. flats !! pretty self explanatory, but the solid background gives me an idea of where the figure begins & ends while the colors themselves help distinguish whats what . i stick to ambient lighting @ this point because im usually not sure what i want to do with the overall palette or lighting yet . having two tones (ex, dark and light in her hair or dark and light on her skin) can also help in identifying key features early on that u wanna preserve. as you build layer by layer, sometimes these areas will remain untouched and i think it makes for a rly lovely feel at the end

3. start blocking !!! to be totally honest with you, i dont really know what i do here HAHAHA. like i just scribble the shit out of it, usually focusing on what i might want to do with lighting (ex: grey areas to accentuate folds in her costume). i think i like to start "erasing" the sketch where possible by coloring on top of it .. like if you look at her hat or her arm , you can tell i'm starting to get a sense of the shapes i like vs the ones i dont. it's at this point that the final image starts to emerge in my mind , like im gradually pulling her from a tarpit of scribbles until shes recognizable lol. chipping away at the marble until i can free her. tbh.

4. keep blockingg...when u think u are done , block some more . as you can probably see, the brushwork becomes more intentional as i add more shape, with specific focus on line weight. this is also where the patchiness of that textured brush comes in - notice how none of the colors seem totally uniform (ex: the red cross or the original sketchlines for her waist). you can see bits and pieces of the layers underneath pushing through and i really like that !! ^__^ its very fun and sketchy to me, so i try to keep them around. those areas are also great to colorpick from, because it'll give you "new" colors to work w/ that are already part of your palette.

5. GRADIENTS & GRADIENT MAPS !! TONE CURVE !! COLOR PICKER !! this is the best stage tbh. flatten your image so its all on one layer and just go crazy with all the color settings in ur program. add gradient layers and set them to darken, or overlay, or subtract, orrr. lighten or dodge glow or divide or soft/hard light.! OR!! edit the hue, saturation, luminosity and contrast.and then color pick from these edits, block even more on top of ur image, flatten, color edit again, etc. etc. until u feel satisfied.

ANYWAYSS . i hope that makes sense @__@ sry i wrote this out and deleted it like 23 times trying to make it make More sense but thats what ive got HAHA i hope its useful though :3 !

[boxheadpaint]

no amount of medication will make me not start clawing my own head from the persistent vacuum-like hum outside. can make a diary post though.

took monitor off today, the skin under one patch was totally fine but the skin under the other seems to have had a less good time. that left patch was the itchier of the two, but i wonder what the exact difference was. can take a normal shower again though so im just not gonna worry about it. need to build up the resilience again to block out the heart palpitations too. i want nothibg more than to lay down and curl in until my chest doesnt feel so tight against the beating.

small things have gotten under my skin lately, mostly having to do with my surface computer. its always been a fickle beast to use, but lately its just seemed more like a chore. the back panel that i could use to prop it up has broken off, and my brain still thinks something is wrong with the pen cursor position no matter how many times i calibrate it. this mostly affects how i draw in ms paint, which is immensely frustrating and confusing.

i wish i wasnt so tired. theres things i want to do, genuinely i want to clean the living room or store things away or talk to my friends but i am just so so so exhausted physically and it doesnt go away no matter what i do or how much sleep i get. i keep having upsetting thoughts and struggling against thinking about them and how i affect others. i have Barely drawn the past... idk, few? two weeks? i drew something yesterday for the absol stream and i scribbled in my sketchbook but they were barely anything and still took great effort to just Not Fuck It Up.

i dont want to avoid it but i dont want to talk about it either. all i want is to feel at Least alright again. but instead i feel like a damn boulder, or a bunch of brittle sticks. id like to think that actually yes an extended depressive episode can be brought on by allergies and if i took a benadryl id suddenly feel like myself again. And probably also fall asleep but thats allergy meds for you.

4/9/2024, Well Watever

[pastafossa]

i saw your pic with charlie, just wanna say that im happy for you. 🥰

congrats on having him hold the red thread, i am very envious with you (and the others) who had the chance to be near him or even just to see him in person.

it was my first time seeing what you look like, and i hope you dont take this the wrong way…but you look like a vampire? i dont know if it’s the lighting but you’re so pale—like wow, that’s pale. like, WOW. THATS. PALE. and the widows peak? gurrlll..you can be morticia adams. and top it off with your dark eyeshadow?? not to mention your aura/vibe? ma’am are you a creature of the night? but it’s fine coz you’re like a happy vampire? like ‘what we do in the shadows’ happy. 🥰

anyway, that’s all i gotta say, congrats again on seeing charlie and i hope you dream of him. 😘

First off I want you to know this is literally, legitimately the funniest fucking way I've ever had asked about my pale af skin, which actually happens a lot. A brief summary of the funniest:

Been asked if I was wearing a wig, because don't albinos wear wigs?

Been asked by my own mother why I was wearing white socks with my flats. I wasn't. Thought that was it. Two years later she asked why I was wearing white tights with my shorts. I also wasn't.

Been told I could signal a plane, no mirror needed, on a desert island.

Been told by two happy tattoo artists that working on me is almost like working on white paper, 'it comes out so bright!'. First artist even knocked 50 bucks off because he didn't need as much ink or time as he usually would.

Had the 'THE BEACONS ARE LIT' comic hilariously reenacted when I wander out in a bathing suit or tank top, or in this case, in my photo with Charlie where they used a light that lit me up like a road beacon. You know, this comic:

Also after sending this to a friend, I have been dubbed Nosferpasta. 'I'm a vampire' is now going in the 'Standard Responses To General Questions Of Why I'm Pale' box because holy shit (truthful answer: one of my medications makes me incredibly sensitive/borderline allergic to sunlight, and I can burn in as little as 15 minutes without sunscreen. That means I never get a chance to tan. Kinda vampirish now that I think about it).

Not me also scribbling down Morticia as a cosplay option cause, well, yeah, I've got the hair and the skin and I definitely wear a lot of black clothes, dark eyeshadow, and black cat-eye eyeliner. I'd barely need foundation at all. Either that or I'll be a happy vampire, which I also love.😂

Thank you so, so much for coming to say hi! I'm honestly still on such a high having gotten him to hold the thread which is NOT something I ever really expected to have happen. I'm going to be drowning in that dopamine for a looooong time!

[cheeseandbretboy]

the painting i continued (from longer than a year ago) has too bright white highlights so i need to get rid of them AND quite possibly it would be nice to just give up and do whaeter and get on the train just ot look at all the stations i havent seen before nd cvt and listten to whip your kids on repeat again and again and have no money to afford to eat and find someone who is just so ?? and mean but not in that non self absorbed self absorbed way and stupid because everyone has too much to look forward to and too much to complain about and that makes everyone so yucky and hypocritical and ughghurejne me whenni have work tmr ALSO need to print out more movie photos AND anyone i meet gets so human and i get sick of them so easily but not myself so i will always be alone and thats a good thing unless im not listening to music then it is not so good bc i can hear my breathing an feel my skin also what even is life without music its just ------------------ no ty i do not want to be like amber or ritchie but oh i did thrift their shoes and also jasons but hes kind of an L WAIT that makes so much sense anyway that scene where they are walking in the store with the heavy combat boots that have been discontinued (why?) and a shotgun wow! imagine being tricked by a soda can what a loser anyway the sehleves ive built are really nice and after doing that with hands blistered and joints sore i realised i can fit everythign insdie it and oh god im gonna lose absolutely everything! and thn something even WoORSE hit me that none of this even means anytnign, what the flip, imagine this format will stop and we only live in the real world what then maybe just maybe musicals make sense and then i bash my head into my desk HOW COULD U FOR A SECOND THINK MUSICALS ARE OKAY blood is spurting just likein that scene in longlegs dilf, jokes no maybe nicholas cage hes too pasty this has gotten long uve recently discovered this rly underground and unpopular artist michael jackson yea nobodies really heard of him sigh WHY DO I HAVEA FRENCH BOOK OH GOD IM GOING TO HELL people should put everything ive ever ever made into a bible because that is all i am and i am so happy that is true so yea put this in as well and all my assigmnets and paintings and digital art from 2019 and old drawings and scribbles and south park doodles and short stories ad gore and all the deleted notes of measurrements (sigh why phone) and dont forget all the photos and the annotations i rubbed out later cuz they sounded dumb and too personal remember always to make ur writing as obscure as possible because people always look to make everything about them hey emotions are really stupid our brains are amazing at finding information so much of it but our conciousness is preoccupied with other stupid stuff like education and being horny so all we get is emotions that have been processed information so hey our thinking brain really is in the back seat and we cant change it yk im bnad! im bad! u knowit really really bad megamind... evan peters is eyeing me rn.. i did a really good job of diverting my mental problems its actually really good but i am hoping we can get back to them once they get fixed and maybe this dependence wiol go away too right maybe and wait a darn second are you telling me i wont find myself a tim burton anti hero what the flip unbelievable may i get a refund never sell your doc martens just break them in please the blisters and pus and blood will pass and they will be great i swear unless theyre the max platform types then u might have to keep getting pain but thats okay god dont tell me i need to work in the future although when i watched the movie for the 2nd time in cinemas there was 3 seconds where there was a doctor with a mask and wowww maybe i shld become one of those but i dontthink i have the right motivation maybe neurobiology maybe quantum mechanics mabe maybe even both like quantum mind god thats interesting but only after biology i need to get worried abt climate change and then realise OH MY GOD NOTHING MATTERS BUT OUR MINDS and thats

[anilec-dragon-art-and-stuff]

Alright its time to introduce the first character of the "main group story". And even tho all the characters in the group are obviously Main characters, if I had to point at just one and say "thats the Main one" it would probably be her. Since she is the one who went on a quest and just "adopted" these other idiots on the way. So she is kinda the driving force. And the only one who consistently has a brain cell. So without further ado its time to write down some Information for our favorite "Angel of light"

–––––––––––

General Information

Name: Rúnya Calanoré

Nickname: Angel, Sparky (By Lucina), Oversized Bird (this one, tho it might sound like an insult is actually meant as a funny term of endearment. Kallista is the only one that sometimes uses it as an insult or with a threat)

Age: 25

Race: Aasimar

Class: Cleric (Light Domain)

Pronouns: She/her

Romantic Orientation: Aromantic

Sexual Orientation: Asexual

Physical Appearance

(You can also check the included pictures)

Eye color: Bright Orange (seems to glow a bit)

Skin color: Moderate brown/tanned

Hair color: Black

Height: 1,70m

Weight: 75kg

Body type: Broad-shouldered, muscular

Tattoos: Has the holy symbol of her goddess tattooed between her wings (picture at the end)

Scars/Birthmarks: On her middle and lower back old, faded scars from a whipping

Other distinguishing features: Wings on her back, a slight glow surrounding her (less noticable but her body temperature is slightly higher than average)

Fashion style: When she isnt wearing her armor she mostly wears vestment or similar clothing of her temple. You will pretty much only see her in bright yellow or orange colors

Accessories: Wears the holy symbol of her goddess as a necklace.

Other notes: Her wings play a heavy part in her body language (for example when she is mad or tries to be threatening she involuntarily spreads them out. Stuff like that)

Picture:

Drawing made by me

This was a commission done by becks_art on instagram

Psychological Traits

Personality: Kind-hearted and good-natured, always ready to help those who need it. But if you mess with her or her friends she wont hesitate to pay it back in kind.

Temperament: Most of the time she is very patient (just look at her babysitting a group of chaotic idiots) and tries to solve problems in a diplomatic manner. Very slow to really get angry, but if you do manage to piss her off, she can become quite aggressive and violent.

Hobbies: Between the quest given by her temple, her desire to help people, and her having to babysit the other five idiots, she doesnt really have much time for any hobbies. However she started writing a sort of journal, documenting her adventure, writing down new information especially about demons and such. So in what little free time she has, she works on that. Also often collaborates with Elari and in rare cases Kallista, to make her scribbled notes into something decent.

Morals/Virtues: She is compassionate and empathetic, always trying to help people and do what is right.

Phobias/Fears: Secretly is afraid, that she wont be able to live up to the expectations everyone (including herself) put on her.

Angered by: People being unjust or unecessary cruel. People messing with her friends.

Pet peeves: When people randomly touch her wings without asking permission first.

Routines: Prays to her goddess at least once a day

Bad habits: She has a habit of trying to fix peoples trauma or other mental health issues, even when those people tell her, they dont want her help.

Secrets: The scars on her back and the Story behind it. She doesnt activley keep it as a secret, but its Not something that comes up in conversation that often and unless you See her without a shirt, you wouldnt know about the scars. So her group didnt know for quite a while.

Abilities etc.

Physical abilities: Great physical strength, flight

Magical abilities: Innate ability to create and wield fire and light; healing magic and other magical abilites gifted to her, by her goddess

"Special" Ability: Can deepen the connection to her goddess, which increasea her innate fire powers. The more she deepens it, the stronger they get. Hoewever her mortal body isn't designed to hold that much godlike power for a long period of time. If she takes too much for too long she starts burning herself up from the inside out. The highest point of this ability lets her turn herself into a small Supernova, which would kill her but also incinerate everything around her in a good radius.

Languages known: Common, Celestial, Infernal

Relationships:

Partner/Significant other: None

Parents/Guardians: Irene Calanoré (Mother, deceased), Henri Calanoré (father)

Key family members: Her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother (sorry about that one) is the goddess of light and fire, Kaida

Best friends: Her childhood best friend from her temple, Lucina

Friends: The rest of her group, she is closest with Phi

Enemies: Any demonic or shadowy creature

Mentors/Teachers: In early years her father, later The priests in her temple

Temple/Goddess: She is a devote follower of Kaida and a priestess of her order

Other notes: When she was sworn into the service of her temple, she took a vow of celibacy and abstinence.

Short overview of backstory:

As mentioned above, she is a descendant of the goddess of light and fire Kaida (it runs on her fathers side), however through the years the divinity was "watered down" so her father and grandparent etc. Had so little of it, they were considered regular human

For whatever reason the divine spark flared up again with her, enough to cause her to be born as an Aasimar with wings (even tho thats quite rare)

Unfortunatley there were no magically gifted healers nearby to save her mother, so she died shortly after giving birth to her

Her father never blamed her for it and made Sure she didnt either, but her mothers family did

Growing up she had no control over her fire abilities and tended to sponaneously Set things on fire

This eventually escalated in a scenario that i will probably write a short story about so we are not getting much into it now

All you need to know is that thats when she got her scars and she and her father had to leave their village afterwards

Her father decided to bring her to a temple of Kaida, hoping they could help her to control her abilities

So from that time on she spent her time training and learning the rituals of the order, and to deepen her connection to Kaida to be able to fly, etc.

It was at this time, that she became friends with Lucina

At the age of 16 she Was sworn into the order as a priestess and made her vow of celibacy (she knew for years she wanted to do this, so she kinda "trained herself" to become aro/ace)

The order also tries to bring light into the World and fight of demonic or shadow creatures and due to her heritage the high priests decided, she Was the Most suited for the task and started an extensive training for that to later send her on the quest

And thats kinda what she is doing, why she is out in the world in these stories. Anything else that happens after is more "recent" and will be put in writing.

The symbol of Kaida (her goddess):

(Drawn by me, could have been better but its "just" a symbol soooo...)

[allyouveeverknownbyrustedbread]

ddlcbrainrot well fuck :)

ooookay what to do... the eyes i saw probably belong to something that wants to kill me, and now that the lights are on it can probably see me clearly. so thats great. uhhhh i really have no idea how to get out of this... i could either wait near the water to see if anything happens or i could try to find my way back to the cathedral to gather myself a bit. but even if i go back to the cathedral id have to xome back out here eventually... so uhhh i guess I'll wait near the water for like 10 minutes and if nothing happens I'll start cautiously exploring the place

rustedbread

Biding your time by the water, you see the same eyes you saw last night, across the riverbed drinking from the river, they don't notice you watching so they seem bizarrely at peace, though their form seems human, their mannerisms in no way really make sense for one. it sees you watching it, looking at you frozen momentarily before scurrying away. You couldn't tell what it really was from first glances, most of it's skin was covered by bandages and clothes, it looked human, proportions off, legs too long, but it looked human. as it scurried away, it ran directly into a wall of meat and muscle, but when you look at where any sort of trace of it should be, there's a concrete door, not the door itself, but more of an archway, an opening. if you look into it you can see slight hints of artificial lights, though it's not pleasant, following whatever you saw could lead to your freedom, or at least, you won't have to walk on meat and flesh forever seeing as you don't have many options, you choose to find a way over to the area as you walk, you bring out the journal you found on the desk, there isn't much to do, so might as well read whatever you can from reading into it, the journal belongs to a former cultist of some kind, and due to the readable text, it does appear that what you saw back in the cathedral wasn't always what people were a thought crosses your mind, that those people could have been once like you, that they aren't born of blind worship broken men reciting the only things they remember as you read further into the passages and entries of the journal, the writing style changes, slowly, the articulated strokes of pen that it began with devolved into frantic scribbles in vague resemblance of words, nonsense and harsh lines, broken paper as the pressure from whoever once wielded the pen was writing harder than ever needed the final entry you read, words large and bold, near scraped into the pages, a final sendoff before whoever wrote this went to "merge" with the heart, you don't exactly know the logistics of that, but seemingly what it means is that the fanatic that wrote this devoted their selves to the heart so much that they offered themselves to it, which, if they're alive or not, remains to be seen. judging by the mental stability of whoever wrote this, it's clear to see that the writing of "GOD" all over the documentation of the Heart of Everything was their doing, and seeing as this was found in the same room that was covered in pageless books and broken bookshelves, they probably did that too. once you finish through the entirety of the journal, you store it away again, you don't want to bring out the fairly hefty texts you found on the altar, you don't have the time to multitask that hard, the journal you could hold in your hand, the texts you found were the size of a laptop and the thickness of a brick, it wouldn't make sense to walk with it so you choose to look around, mostly just the same muscle and tendon but looking to the sky, not fully illuminated, in the distance you see the heart as far as you can imagine but still all too close, close to the ceiling of this place, a ribcage attached to it, not as it was meant to, the ribs are dwarfed by the size of the heart, the rest of the skeleton looks, lizard like, quadrupedal from what you can tell it looks, draconic, in nature, and the posture of it doesn't make sense to you it seems as if the heart busted out of the skeleton and just brought it up with it you choose to ignore it, try to let it fester in your head, that's where it should belong you cross a shallow portion of the river, walking to the concrete doorframe left by the being that was watching you you hesitate though, resting your hand on the cold outlining of stone you don't have any options left though you persevere [instead of the usual input, I'd say to take this time to theory craft a bit, I want to see what you've got down so far :D] [[also it might just be the fact that I've been getting a small amount of sleep, but HOLY hell I'm tired]]