#i wanted this to approximately be clothes i own lol

[fashionbugster]

50 days of lookits | day 41 — my style

i just wanna live my way — i won't let anyone get in the way, it's my day. (novel core — sober rock)

[thegnomelord]

If you're up to it, I would like to request FtM reader x dragon Price, reader can be dom or sub I just need more FtM things in life besides myself😞😞 -🐆

Sure, I wasn't in the mood for porn so have some fluff. fair warning I'm not all that confident writing FTM reader so ya'll tell me if this sucks lol

CW: SFW, gender dysphoria, fluff, non sexual nudity, cuddling, scar kissing

Most day are good for you. Most days you're able to get out of bed and go about your day to day duties with confidence.

Not today.

You wake before your alarm with an unpleasant feeling in your gut, tossing and turning for an hour in hopes of falling asleep but it's useless. The morning chill only amplifies the horrid sensation — your skin doesn't feel like your own, your body doesn't feel your own. It's like roaches are crawling beneath your skin, thousands of toothpicks stabbing your nerves every time the cotton of your boxers brushes against your flawed flesh. Old words of people you once considered friends ring in your head like church bells: You're not a real man, you'll never be.

All you are, is a badly made replica in the approximation of what you want to be.

Your bones feel like they're lined with lead, every cell in your body begging you to stay under the covers in the darkness of your room for however long it takes for this feeling to go away. But the sharp ringing of the alarm forces you to rise against your wishes. You don't look at yourself when you shower, but the small glimpse of skin you catch in the mirror makes bile burn the back of your throat. Usually you're proud of your torso and the muscles you've built, but all you can think now as you put on the tight fitting army shirt is how wrong it looks on you. You try to pull on the front a couple of times in an attempt to make it baggier around your chest, before just putting on a jacket regardless that it's the middle of summer.

Recruit duty makes a bad day even worse, adding a headache alongside the discomfort and anxiety that straddle your brain. You hate how snappy and agitated you are with them, running them through grueling drills until they regret being born and have probably called you every name under the sun in their heads. The all collapse when you're finally finished with them, stepping away from them. The day's heat made you sweat like a pig, another round of bile burning the back of your throat at how your clothes stick to you.

You flinch back when a hand grabs your shoulder, quickly whirling around to look who it is with a sharp retort burning on your tongue, only to fizzle out when you're met with Price's face.

Your name sounds so right when he says it, the scent of tobacco curling in your nose as he steps closer to you, wing stretching out to subtly hang over you. "What's going on lad?" Price asks, his voice low, like taking a sip of cool water.

The question makes you hesitate, unable to meet his gaze so you fixate on counting the little chips in the concrete floor. "Just one of those days." You grunt, your voice hoarse and scratchy from belting orders all day.

Price hums in thought and then you feel his wing bump against your back, "Follow me soldier." The deep timber of his voice silences some of the dark thoughts crooning in your ears, and you're helpless to do anything but follow after him like a lost lamb. He leads you back to his room (that you haunt most nights), the place blessedly cool and dark compared to the heat outside.

The second the door closes and locks he pulls you in close, wrapping his steady arms around you and pushing your face into the pillowy bosom of his pecs. You struggle for a moment out of pure instinct, but a single call of your name makes you stop like a puppet on cut strings. He repeats your name like a caress, rolling every syllable on his tongue as his chest rumbles with a deep purr.

You melt into him, nuzzling your nose into the deep valley of his pecs and breathing in his smell. He's more intoxicating than any drug you know; beneath the scents of tobacco, dark coffee, and manly musk there's always something that your mind associates with freshly cut grass and rain on dry gravel — Comfort.

"You're so smart and clever." He croons, resting his chin on top of yours, one hand tracing the curve of your back. "But by god are you a dumb muppet." There's no edge to his words, you don't even think of fighting his admonishments. "How many times have I told you to come to me if you feel like this?"

Too many times, to be honest. You're stubborn if nothing else, you always think you can handle this on your own, you don't want to burden him whenever your mind decides to be a dick to you. "I'm sorry." You mumble into his shirt, your hands slowly wrapping around his thick waist. It always does your head in how your fingers can't quite meet in the middle of his back with how broad he is, muscle and fat shifting beneath your hands.

"Sure you are." He tuts, evidently not believing you for a second. But he doesn't pull away, tail loosely wrapping around your leg and his scent and heat enveloping you, his chest vibrating against your face. "Going to let me take care of my boy, aren't you?" The way he phrases it makes it sound like a statement, and you're unable to resist it.

Your mouth goes dry, your body stuck between wanting more and abhorring any more physical contact. But you nod your head, grumbling something probably nonsensical. And any other day you'd laugh your ass off about the fact you're practically motorboating him, but not today. Today you barely have any energy left to think.

"That's my boy." He purrs, clawed fingers gently scratching your scalp. "Shower?" He asks.

You pause, trying to string together a tangible thought. You doubt you could handle that, not with how dark and heavy your head feels. "No." You croak and nuzzle further into his chest in an attempt to hide.

"S'alright, I'm proud of you." He hums, still holding you close as he shuffles across the room with you blindly following him. "Let's get you out of those sweaty clothes, yeah?" Getting a single nod from you, he starts to slowly take off your clothes, pulling back just enough to distract you with sweet kisses. You try to help in taking his clothes off, but you feel about as useful as a small child helping his parents cook, getting a few chuckles from him.

You wind up gently pushed down on your back, spread across his bed that smells just like him and naked as the day you were born. Before the discomfort can make you shy away and try to cover yourself, he's settling down next to you, claws scraping against your jaw as he pulls you into a slow kiss. You swear you can always taste a bit of eternity every time he kisses you, so unhurried like you'll last as long as him.

"Look at you." He hums as you part, his hands sliding down your shoulders and arms to your hips. "My handsome boy." He tilts his head to kiss all over your face, trailing his lips from your brows to your eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin to wherever else he can reach. His beard is soft against your skin, evidently he'd used that beard care product you'd given him. "So strong and capable. My strong knight."

That gets the first vestige of a chuckle out of you. "Does that mean I get to lay the dragon?" You ask, your lips tugging into a small smirk. You've made that joke god knows how many times, but despite his gripes, Price loves it.

"Cheeky wanker." He huffs, his cool clawed fingers trailing along the curve of your muscles up your torso. "Later, if you're good."

A low sound escapes you when his thumbs brush the even scars beneath your pecs. "Good?" He asks, waiting for you to nod before tilting his head down, horns gently poking your skin for a second before he starts kissing along your scars. His touch is gentle like you're a precious treasure in his hoard, his lips velvet soft against the rough scar tissue. Every brush of his lips makes your skin tingle like a live wire, fire simmering in the place he kisses as he trails from one side to the other, laying equal attention on every inch of your scars.

It's pleasant. Beyond pleasant. It leaves your chest feeling so warm and full like your heart will burst through your ribcage.

You feel like a melted puddle of goo by the time he pulls away to kiss you on the lips again. You don't struggle as he lays down on his side and pulls you to him. A pleased sigh escapes you as you feel his wing drape over you like a blanket, tail curling around one of your legs and arms wrapping around your waist; like he's making sure you can't escape (not that you'd want to.)

Dragons are strange, the scales cool against your skin but his core is hot like a furnace, the duality of it calming your mind. "How are you feeling lad?" He asks, the low timber of his voice vibrating his chest.

You hum and nuzzle into his pecs, the ample chest hair tickling your face. "Better." You grunt, blindly kissing what inch of flesh you can reach. You can't keep your hands from wandering, petting the dark hair of his happy trail as your other hand traces the scales on his side. "Could feel better with a bit more attention though."

A snort leaves him, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You're insatiable." His words would be a lot more insulting if his chest didn't vibrate with a continuous purr, his tail tightening for a second before relaxing.

"You're to blame." You feel better as the words leave you, your chest light as a feather as you get to share a small laugh with him.

"Get some rest, my boy," You hum, your eyelids already starting to feel heavy as you feel him nuzzle his cheek into your hair. You don't doubt the whole base will be able to smell him on you tomorrow. "We'll see about laying dragons later."

"I love you." You murmur into his flesh, his pecs becoming the world's best pillow as you nuzzle closer. You stay awake just long enough to hear him murmur his love for you in your ear.

[badbatch-badfics]

Padawan (TBB x Male Reader) Part 2

Part 1

Characters: The Bad Batch - Cross hair + Cid.

Relationship: All platonic

POV: Only 2nd (you/yours)

Pronouns: he/him

Species: Unspecified

Content: Smidge of angst and worry, but mainly found family growing into fluff

Warnings: General TBB stuff, a little bit about Order 66. Cringe lol.

Word Count: 2,796

Notes: If anyone has any requests/ideas for this 'series,' please let me know! I'd love to learn more about what ya'll like and incorporate it. (and i'll obviously credit you in the notes for whichever part it goes in)

The Bad Batch was sound asleep, exempt from their designated pilot.  Tech was comfortably cruising through hyper-space, multitasking on a new upgrade for Echo’s arm-scomp and watching the scanners.  A light beep alerted him, signaling that they were approaching Ord Mantell.  He lightly pushed his goggles upwards, before pressing a series of buttons.  The Marauder shook as it dropped from hyperspace, the tremors waking Hunter up from his nap in the co-pilot's seat.  He would usually sleep in his bunk until Tech needed a break, but his bunk was… preoccupied, so to speak.

“We close to Ord Mantell, Tech?” Hunter asked groggily, cracking his neck.  “Approximately 11 minutes and 36 seconds until we enter the atmosphere, and then another 23 minutes until we reach the landing pad.  I would begin waking everyone else up.”  With a sign, Hunter stood up, arms reaching far above his head, ever-so-slightly leaning backwards.  He turned around and started heading towards the bunks, wondering how he should go about waking you up.  He didn’t know how much you would remember, and he certainly didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Of course, there was always the option of letting your body wake up on its own time, and just having someone stick with the ship until then, but there was the risk of general clatter and ruckus occurring and startling you awake anyway, which would be a harsh wake-up call, to say the least.  After a second more of contemplation, he finally settled on leaving you be, and simply shushing Wrecker the moment his eyes opened.  He walked up to his brother, shaking his arm.  Wrecker awoke with a large grunt, like an ancient monster waking from a coma in an echoing mountain, before Hunter aggressively shushed him.  He sharply pointed across the walking strip to your body, an absolute tangled mess of limbs and droll.

Wrecker got the hint, making an ‘oohhh’ sound before slowly sitting up, careful to minimize the amount of creaking.  Hunter walked on, heading towards Echo and Omega, shaking them both awake- Omega more gently.  She yawned and stretched, smiling and greeting Hunter, before quickly grabbing her day-clothes before heading off to the fresher to change.  Hunter went back to the cockpit, where his brothers were already making quiet discussions of what to do with you, the ‘teenager-that-had-essentially-magic-powers-and-was-being-hunted.’  Primarily how they would handle Cid.  She tolerated them because they did jobs for her, and they didn’t really matter to the Empire- except for Omega, it was appearing.  But a Padawan?  That would be a lot of credits, and it would put someone on the Empire’s good side- at least for a little bit.  Cid wasn’t above ratting them out for that kind of profit.  Or, at least, she wasn’t above ratting out the Padawan while keeping them away from the Empire’s eyes for the sake of missions.  “Perhaps we can convince Cid that his use in missions, among other things, would outweigh the reward from the Empire.  Even without using the Force in a physical push-and-pull manner, it can still be used for mind tricks, sensing danger, and much more, depending on his skill set.  We could increase our efficiency and time duration of missions greatly, which would hold a great profit for Cid,” Tech explained, preparing for the Marauder to enter Ord Mantell’s atmosphere.

“That's true, but there’s no way to know what Cid will say- if she agrees, great, but if she doesn’t…” Hunter responded, eyes glancing back at your sleeping form as he trailed off.  If they told her about you, and she decided to tell the Empire, then no one would be safe.

“There’s no way for Cid to be kept in the dark long enough to find a better solution, and we can’t exactly just hide a whole person in the Marauder,” Echo added on, waving his scomp-link around the cockpit for emphasis.

“Of course, this is all assuming that (Y/N) will want to remain with us.  He may know someone, or someplace, that is safe.  Additionally, he may even know Cid.  Echo said that she would occasionally report to the Jedi,” Tech countered, briefly glancing back towards his brothers, away from the planet and control panel.  Echo nodded in confirmation.  “Do we…” Hunter trailed off, sighing, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “do we have any place to go if Cid decides to tell the Empire?  Echo, do you know anyone else who would help?”

“Rex, obviously- but he’s more involved with defeating the Empire than we are, so it’d be an extra risk to the kid.  Maybe Cut and Suu, if we can get a hold of them.  But I don’t think either of us want to put that kind of risk on them- not with Jek and Shaeeah.”  Wrecker made a comment of agreement, briefly looking up from his game of Chopsticks with Omega.  A heavy silence fell over the group, uncertainty thick in the air.

“Entering the atmosphere,” Tech reported, breaking the awkward silence.  The Marauder shook as gravity’s presence took its toll.  It settled back down to a smooth ride within a minute, the greens and browns- mainly browns- of Ord Mantell’s natural landscape coming closer.  “I think Cid will understand, plus, like Tech said, (Y/N) can help us out!” Omega added, not looking up from her hands.

Hunter looked down, contemplating.  Would the reward of Cid accepting the kid outweigh the risk of her turning him in to the Empire?  Tech did have a point, your presence would make things go smoother- but if Cid didn’t care about that point?  What then?  Would they be able to escape the Empire, find a new place to settle down- there was bound to be some planet that was safe- but would they find it before the Empire found them?

They could keep you holed up in the ship for a while, but sooner or later, Cid would find out.  And once she found out, that could damage their… relationship, so to speak.  Assuming she wouldn’t tell the Empire immediately, anyway.  So that wouldn’t work either.  There was no good solution, and everyone knew it.  Finally, Hunter spoke up- “Wrecker, Omega, you two stay with (Y/N) and help him with anything- food, water, applying new bandages.  You get the idea.  Echo, you're with me- we’ll get anything we’d need for a long-term stay on the ship; med kits, food, supplies, whatever.  Tech, make sure the ship has enough fuel, and make any necessary fixes.  Don’t let anyone else know.  After you're done, I’ll tell Cid about… the kid.  We’ll see where it goes from there.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Marauder drifted down, landing neatly in the center of the dock.  Tech quickly pulled out his data-pad, scanning for any previously unnoticed internal damage.  Luckily, the report came back negative- as he had guessed, there was no new damage.  Satisfied, he checked the Marauder’s current fuel level, so he’d know when to stop filling.  Tech, Echo, and Hunter exited the Marauder, swiftly closing and securely locking the ramp behind them.

The innards of the Marauder were quiet, Omega and Wrecker not really knowing what to do.  They both sat on the bunk opposite you, staring, just in case you’d wake up and need something.  Wrecker had rations and a water canteen to his left, while Omega had fresh bandages and bacta-spray to her right.  “Uhhh…” Wrecker broke the silence, glancing down at Omega, “do we just… wait for him to wake up?  It feels weird, just staring.”

“I don’t know… on Kamino, we would usually wait, but this is nothing like injured clones on Kamino.”  She sighed, wringing her hands together.  “I just…feel so bad.  I mean, our home was destroyed, but at least we have each other.  (Y/N) doesn’t have anyone, and he’s been alone on that ship since the Empire took over.  I can’t imagine what it must have been like…” 

“Well, at least we found him before the Empire did, and any situation we’re in will probably be better than Bracca.  Plus, he’s probably dead to the Empire, so they won’t be after him!”  Wrecker responded, finding the silver lining.  He and Omega looked at eachother, smiling.  It felt good to help people.

On cue, the blankets opposite the pair began shuffling, a long groan sounding out through the metal walls of the Marauder.  You turned over, eyes droopy and your Padawan braid/beads hanging by the corner of your mouth, covered in drool.  Slowly, you put your weight onto a hand and pushed yourself up, leaning against the back wall of the bunk.  Your head lolled back, another sigh escaping.  Everything hurts.  “Good morning!  Er, afternoon!  You slept forever, little Jedi!” Wrecker enthusiastically shouted, causing you to immediately sit up straight, hand shooting down to your waist for the familiar feeling of your lightsaber, only to be met with nothing.  Kriff.

Wrecker immediately sensed your panic, and put his hands up in an attempt of looking unhostile.  “Don’t worry, you're safe!  We’ve had our heads cut into, so we won’t be doing any of that Order 66 stuff!”  All you could do was stare, a comically surprised expression etched across your face.  He had an interesting way of wording things.

Wrecker stood up and handed you the canteen and ration bad.  “Here, rations and water!  They’re not the best, and we can pick up some better food soon, but I bet you're starved!”  And you were.  True, the mantell mix Omega had gifted you was delicious, but after so long of never having a proper meal, you certainly wouldn’t refuse any more food or water.

“Thank you…”  You glanced down after taking the food, quietly chewing on the ration bar, occasionally taking sips from the canteen.  You were never good socially at the Temple, and you certainly weren't any better at the moment.  Omega asked you some more questions; if there was any pain, did you bleed through any bandages, and such.  You responded in short answers, so quiet she was struggling to pick up what was said.  Eventually, she deemed you healthy- or, at least, as healthy as you could be, given the circumstances.  She stayed with you, telling stories about Kamino and the few trips she’s had away from it.  Mainly, though, she talked about her brothers.

After Maker knows how long, the Marauder’s ramp opened, Tech, Echo, and Hunter coming in, one by one.  Tech was lugging fuel, and the other two held general equipment, food, med-kits, and more.  While Tech didn’t pay as much mind to your waking, Echo and Hunter sure did- Echo more so.

After setting down the cargo, he practically spritened to the bunk you were on, crouching down on one knee and using his scomp-link to lift up your jaw, and do other inspections.  “You need a shower- desperately.  And new clothes, these are completely ruined!  Our old room is nothing compared to this!  Even Fives smelled better!  And you need some proper nourishment- I know how I felt after being in that stasis chamber for so long.  And mantell mix is not nourishment, no matter what Wrecker and Omega tell you, got that?”  He finished his spiel, pointing his scomp-link at you.  “Iba’ oskik’la…”

* (“what a mess” in mando’a)

“Yeah, I think he’s got it, Echo,” Hunter chimed in, smiling.  “C’mon, kid.  I need you to meet someone.  She used to work with the Jedi, so I don’t think she’d do anything.  But, just in case, we have everything ready to go.  And if all goes well, ”  You swallowed, a large lump forming in your throat.  You really hoped she wouldn’t do anything bad- you were already enough of a burden.  You and Hunter walked down the ramp, Omega gleefully waving goodbye.

He could hear your heartbeat, your anxiety- but he didn’t know much on how to help, given the circumstances.  Kriff, you didn't know about the chips until they found you, and he couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like.  When Wrecker had been affected and tried to kill everyone, at least they all knew it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t betrayed them, and that he would never try to do that when he was in control.  But you had no clue about any of that.  You thought all the clones who were your friends, or even just ones you were polite with for the sake of being a good person, had all wanted to kill you, and all the other Jedi.  You had thought that for months.  Cursing yourself, wondering why, and if there was anything you could have done differently to prevent it.  And now, irony at its best, you had been rescued by clones, coming to remove their chips.

“We’re on Ord Mantell, by the way… don’t know if anyone told you.  Ever been?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  You shook your head, eyes darting from sign to sign, stall to stall.  “Most planets I’ve been on, except for Coruscant, were just… military occupations, occasionally the natural landscape of Separatists planets.  Never got to travel outside of that,” you said, still taking in all the colorful decor and people of the city.  “I mean, you know what that’s like, obviously- being a clone and all, you went to the same type of planets I did.  I think, at least.”

Hunter nodded his head in confirmation, not really sure where to go from there.  What you said was pretty accurate, but he felt like he shouldn’t talk about the war much.  And in any case, they were approaching Cid’s.

You and Hunter trotted down the steps, the automatic door sliding open.  Cid’s bar was empty, spare for an Ithorian and Weequay who were bickering over who knows what, and obviously, Cid herself.  You placed yourself behind Hunter, something you would do with your Master during the war to avoid any interaction with… anyone.  Slicing droids was easy, making conversation with soldiers was not.

You slowly glanced around the parlor, taking in anything that could be a trap, or could help you escape if this ‘Cid’ decided she didn’t want a padawan on her doorstop.  Hunter called out for Cid, and the distant sound of claws tapping against the cold, hard floor echoed out.�� Emerging from the back rooms was a rather short female trandoshan, a cane gripped in her three claws.

Her eyes went back and forth between your semi-hidden figure and Hunter.  “Where’s the rest of ya?  And who’s that kid in the terrible robes?  They stink.”  There was an obvious scowl on her face, her left brown rose in an annoyed and questioning manner.

Hunter took a deep breath, and then- “He’s… a Padawan.”  Cid’s brows rose, and then lowered into a vicious scowl.  “Before you say anything- hear me out.  He was trapped at Bracca, and the scavengers didn’t know- Tech checked the Empire’s wanted, and he’s dead to them.  The Empire won’t come here, and it’s not like anyone on the street will know- he’s just a padawan.  Not a full-on Jedi, not a general.  But, he can still help.  Even without using the Force to push and pull, he can still sense danger and… stuff.”  Hunter wasn’t really sure how the Force worked.  But he knew it was useful.  Before Cid could rebuttal, he continued.  “And imagine how helpful a padawan would be in making sure your deals go right!  Being able to sense a bad deal, or if someone unwelcome is coming.  And some of them can do mind tricks.  He’ll be very useful to you- just let him stay with us.”

Cid looking down, in thought, a scowl etched on her face.  Finally, she sighed.  “Fine!  But if the Empire comes knocking, I’m not keeping his hide a secret.  Too much heat.”  She walked away, already planning what to do with you.

Hunter looked back, smiling.  You tried your best to smile, but you knew full well it looked incredibly awkward and forced.  Not that you weren’t happy, by any means.  You just weren’t prepared, and he knew that.  Hunter placed a hand on your shoulder, attempting to provide comfort.  And it worked.  For the first time in months, despite the constant dread of what was to come, everything seemed to be going right.  You could stay with them, and they could stay with Cid.

“Let’s go get you some proper fitting, and smelling clothes, yeah?  Echo wasn’t wrong when he said it was worse than our old barracks.”  Your smile shifted to a natural one, not forced or awkward.  You certainly didn’t think you’d ever see a clone again; and it certainly wouldn’t be a happy experience, but it seemed like this batch was going to be the best thing to happen in a while.

[somberjoon]

METANOIA [8]

✩ pairing: wolf hybrid nj x cheetah hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 8.8k

✩ chapter warnings: uncertainty in behavior and emotions , anxiety , TW // panic attack with nightmare description of assault / sa (this is not explicit or detailed at all but talks of the suffocating feeling of touch) an asterisk * at the start and end of the section that includes this. inclusion of minor wound (bruises and small cuts) description. lots of feelies and talking this ch.

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ch.3 , ch.4 , ch.5 , ch.6 , ch.7 , ch.8 , ch.9

✩ disclaimer: i can't predict what anyone will think, but please understand that some important topics that need discussing as a pack in these circumstances are left out on purpose. If you can't figure it out now then it'll be a nice surprise lol.

Namjoon

The rush to put on better clothing for the chill of night goes by in hushed words from Seokjin and a now awake Hoseok. 

“You’re not being detained are you?” 

“No, they don’t have a warrant or anything. Whatever happened, it was probably Maria or Y/N herself that mentioned me and they just want information about events.” 

“Namjoon I don’t like this.” Hoseok spills. 

“I know, something doesn’t feel right- but I need answers and I at least have my job under my belt to know what my rights are. I’ll be okay.”

“Let Seokjin go with you.” Hoseok still pushes. 

“I don’t want to put him in that situation-”

“Can you hurry up?” Seokjin seems to manifest in conversation, dressed and ready to go. “Of course I’m going with you.” 

With Hoseok’s extra encouragement to bring the oldest of their pack with him, Namjoon and Seokjin leave in their own car, driving towards an unknown fate.

 At this time, the bustle of a police station is nonexistent. It’s an eerie feeling being searched and taken back to a room in…silence, really. The silence also makes him wonder where Y/N is, as he hasn’t even gotten a scent of her here. The passive woman that leads him to the room is the one that ends up asking him the questions. 

“We apologize for the timing that the officers showed up at your house. After finally getting some information from Y/N it had already been 7 hours of silence from her. I can’t give many details right this second, but after we get some more information I can let you know.” 

“Of course. Is she still here at the station?” 

“No, she actually didn’t even come here originally. She’d been in the hospital for some injuries.” 

  Somehow, his heart sinks deeper into the pit of his body and his stomach makes its way towards his throat. 

“Is she- is she okay?”

“Okay is a…hard word to use. Physically, she doesn’t have any long-lasting injuries, but mentally-” She doesn’t even need to finish for Namjoon to understand. It wouldn’t be any better if she was only hurt physically somehow, but knowing that whatever this was is just another huge blow to her mental health is sickening. 

“What do you need to know?” Namjoon asks, trying to get to the point but still keeping his composure.

“We have information that yesterday at approximately 12:00PM Y/N and you can be put in the same place. I was seeing if you could give us a rundown from the time you two met for the day to the time she got home.” 

Namjoon knows no specific words or details will be given to him just to see if the information matches both Y/N’s and Maria’s or Richard’s. So, he tells it honestly- the truth.

“I picked her up around 12PM, she had a class at the hospital that she wanted to attend and I was the one available to Y/N that could take her. So, I picked her up and she didn’t seem to like the outfit she was wearing- she wears comfortable clothing but, she just seems- not sure about what to wear to certain functions or events. Before the class, we had time to stop by a small clothing shop, just one in the strip mall. We picked out an outfit and she got to the class in time, which was at 1:15PM and lasted about an hour.”

“Do you know what kind of class this was?”

“Sexual Development class, a free one that- I think her doctor recommended it.” 

“Okay, continue with the events please.”

“During the class she had forgotten her phone, so I stayed outside the hospital, thus we were able to leave right away and go to my pack’s home for a visit. We, Y/N and I, had been trying to plan a visit to my pack home because of the growing friendships between me and her and another one of my pack members. She was anxious about it because she doesn’t really like meeting new people, she doesn’t trust easily, especially men. But, she blended in well, and because everyone was welcome with each other, it was a good visit. The cheetahs hung out, then we had dinner and then she seemed tired so I offered to take her home around 7PM.”

“Did Y/N show any odd behavior before you took her home?” 

“To be honest, she seemed reluctant to have me leave her home alone. I’m not sure if Richard was home at that time or anything, but I- I should’ve checked before I left. She didn’t say anything though, she didn’t ask me to stay or tell me if she was uncomfortable being alone.” Namjoon stops to bring himself back together, the thoughts of what could’ve happened fight their way to the front. His regret is immense at the moment, even when he doesn’t know what exactly happened. 

“Did you see anyone outside of her home? And, you said you didn’t know if Richard was home, but were there any signs that anyone else was there?” 

Red alarms immediately go off in his head. Because- no. He didn’t make sure, but-

“I stayed at that house, parked in the driveway for 15 minutes after she told me she was okay and locked the door. I wanted to make sure that she didn’t change her mind or-” this woman is a hybrid, she should understand if he says this. “I just felt like something was wrong, and I’ve known enough of her to see when she’s uncomfortable or when she doesn’t want to say something. I should’ve made sure she was okay.”

“Luckily, Y/N is safe now. And I can see that the storylines do add up. Your words were the last ones we needed. But, later on your pack could be asked to testify if the judge decides this isn’t a clean cut case.”

“Can you tell me? What happened?”

“If you guys are close, and if she trusts you as much as I think she does- she’d probably want you to know from her.”

-

Unlike the police station, the hospital has more people in it now that Sunday morning has started. Seokjin accompanies Namjoon now that he can, already heading towards the room with Maria’s approval to the front desk that he could be a visitor. To be honest, he feels entirely too invasive in the moment, but his worry isn’t only bubbling but ready to boil over at not making sure Y/N is alive and not on her damn deathbed. 

It’s easy to spot the room from a distance, as Richard sits in one of the hallway chairs with his elbows on his knees in a bent position. Obviously, he is in an uncommunicative mood- even as Namjoon passes by him, he says nothing. Instead, he looks through the glass of the door to see Maria sitting on one of the visitor benches in the room, looking at the hospital bed that’s blocked from him by a curtain. With his presence, Maria looks to the door to find him without him having to knock. She hurries to meet them outside with the door shut behind her.

“I’m so glad to see you.” Maria says with such relief, wrapping him in an unfamiliarly tight hug. Without a second to think, she’s giving Seokjin one as well. “She’s not verbal at the moment. To be honest, she’s only been verbal to give her statement to the police.” She looks into the window even if she can’t see Y/N from it. 

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable being here-” It’s all Namjoon can think now that he’s actually here. He was really only her friend and someone that was with her only some hours of the day. “I just wanted to see how she was doing and-” He can’t just leave. God, no matter how out of place he feels being here, he can’t leave her right now. 

“Namjoon. You’re the only person she’s asked about.” 

“What? Why?” 

“She didn’t want to even mention you guys to the police. But, that would’ve been even more suspicious. So, she obviously told her whole story and- she asked if I could ‘let her know when Namjoon is questioned’. I’m guessing she was preparing for another devastating blow, because I told her this morning and she just broke down again.”

Of course she didn’t want any of them involved, just to keep them out of it, she’s willing to lie. 

“I think you should see her.” Maria says when Namjoon doesn’t respond. He looks to Seokjin in question, his hyung already knowing why. But, Seokjin only gives him a few reassuring nods and squeeze to his upper arm. 

The door shutting behind him finalizes the choice he made. He could turn back, he could leave knowing that Maria is here for her. But, just last night he thought the same thing- and it didn’t work out then. The pull towards her is too strong. 

Rounding the curtain gives him a view that’s a lot easier to process than he imagined. She’s curled up on her side with only her bun peeking out of the top of the blanket. She’s so small, even with her gaining weight and eating well- she’s still so small. His light steps don’t seem to stir her and he really doesn’t want to startle her, so his best shot is waiting, observing. 

A cushioned chair sits conveniently in front of the resting Y/N, Namjoon sits with light movements. He can finally see her eyes above the blanket covering her. Even like this he can already see a small healing cut next to her eye near her temple. He wants to know every part of her that was hurt- he wants to magically heal her of the wounds she was given, mentally and physically. 

It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to see Y/N take a few tentative sniffs above her blanket, eyes shooting open to land on Namjoon’s. 

Tears. It’s as if they were waiting to fall no matter what. He watches devastatingly with nothing to do. No sign of approval of his touch or words, no utter of his name- just tears. This was the final blow for him as well it seems. He can only say one thing. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, leaning closer to leave him less than a foot away from her. “I’m so so sorry.” Tears prick his own eyes, his wolf begging to touch, to soothe. His restraints are wearing thin as they just stare at each other. He has no queue to touch her, he has to wait and hope that she reaches out or just stays silent in her needs. He doesn’t even know if that’s what she needs, but he hopes she does. He hopes that he could be comforting for her, be here for her and calm her in some way. 

“I’m so sorry I left you there.” That's all he can say. Even more tears fall from her silently, begging for something. He’ll just need to pry like he usually does, he’ll do it forever if he needs to. 

“Is there something I can do for you?” 

“What if I hurt you?” It’s the quietest mumble of a question, somehow sounding clear despite her tears and the barrier of the blanket. 

“You won’t hurt me.” Namjoon says without even thinking, voice staying at a whisper. “What do you need? Do you need something from me?” He tries not to beg, but really anyone could hear it in his voice.

“I can’t.” 

“Can’t what?” Even without a response he’ll keep trying. He won’t make the same mistake. “Let me help you.” 

It's not an immediate response, but Y/N slowly reveals herself. Her blanket is pushed back to show simple clothing the hospital most definitely provided. He doesn’t mean to look, but the hospital shorts show purple bruises that randomly spot the top of her thighs. They're large- he tries to push away the thought of them looking like hands. 

She's asking in her movements as she slides closer to him, her legs dangling over the side of the bed now. He pays attention to her eyes, only her eyes as his peripheral catches more cuts and bruises that he's sure she doesn't want him to see. 

"Whatever you need." He says at her pause in movement. He takes the chance of guessing what she needs, opening his arms in an inviting gesture. 

Her silent tears turn to sobs just as her hand reaches out and takes a hold of Namjoon's extended hand. He closes his grip like it's a life line just as she does to him.

With slower movements than he'd like for himself but enough for her to not hurt herself more, she's finally showing what she wants. Climbing into his lap, legs bracketed around his thighs and body pressed into his finally. Finally she's in his arms- his own arms locked tight around her to keep her there. Her wet face and hurried breaths are pushed into his neck, as close as she can get. Finally, her tail wraps around him instead of squeezed around herself.

"I got you. I'm so sorry." He says over and over again like a mantra. 

-

Seokjin

He doesn't mind waiting for Namjoon, but the company isn’t the best. To be fair, he finally got some time in silence as Maria takes a phone call, but it's still a hospital- hospitals are never comforting.

"I know, yes I understand we'll have to come in and discuss- that's the protocol!?" 

Maria's frustrating outburst is more than enough to cause a few heads to whip her way. and this landing on Seokjin just a few chairs away. 

"Okay. Well, I don’t know when we’ll both be able to come in, maybe later today or tomorrow. Can I just call you back when we are able to come in?”

“Thank you, bye.”  She finishes her call and turns to sit right next to Richard who Seokjin really isn't comfortable sitting next to. Even if there is a spacer seat. Despite their whispered conversation, he can hear it. 

“The protocol for her case is immediate re-homing.” She whispers in a heartbreaking tone. “We could fight for her later on, but as of right now our house is deemed unsafe for her- for any future cases that may need a home.” 

With the pain in her voice, Richard is still silent. Seokjin almost wants to shake the man into some fucking sense. But, that’s only his instincts talking- he still has no idea what the story is. And now, he’s thinking about where Y/N will go. 

Somehow he already knows. 

-

Namjoon

Usually with Y/N attached to him, it’s hard to think properly. But now, with her safely in his arms, he’s thinking more and more about how to keep it this way. Despite that, dread fills him at the thoughts around the organization- he knows that Y/N can’t stay in that house, no matter what it was, she was hospitalized and there is police involvement. There is no way she’ll be able to stay in that house. He doesn’t even know if Y/N knows that yet. 

She had just gotten into a situation that was helping her and she finally had support that was pushing her towards a healthy life and healthy relationships. He couldn’t rid her of the friends she made when she loses a home as well. 

-

To be honest, Namjoon has no idea how long it has been since he's sat here, but Y/N has fallen asleep a while ago and Seokjin hasn't even tried to get a hold of him. 

Knowing that he needs to at least talk to Seokjin, Namjoon makes the hard decision to stand and gently detach Y/N from him. In her sleep she unapologetically reaches for him with greedy hands, unlike what she does in her waking state. He can't help but smile despite where they are and the unanswered things that happened. 

Slipping out to see Seokjin is a breath of fresh air he didn't realize he needed. He'd spend all day and night making sure she was comfortable, but it's still exhausting seeing someone you care about in such shambles. He'll be strong for her no matter what- and he'll be lucky to have others there for him. 

"How is she?" Seokjin's tired voice asks just across from her room door in the visitor seats. 

“She doesn’t want to talk- she doesn’t have any serious injuries. But she was comfortable with me, so that’s a start.” Namjoon says as he sits just next to Seokjin. “Where did they go?” He motions to the empty chairs that once held Maria and Richard. 

“They went to grab breakfast from the cafeteria.” Seokjin checks his phone just as he answers. “Taehyung has been begging me to let him come sit outside her room. I wish I felt comfortable with him coming, but I think it’d be bad if we had too many people here right now.” Namjoon knows that if Taehyung came then Jimin would want to come, and if Jimin came then Hoseok would feel obligated to come and keep watch over them. He can’t have that many people here right now. 

“It’s a good call, especially because we don’t know exactly what she needs or wants at the moment.” The silence stretches between them as if they’re both waiting to have this impending conversation. All it takes is one look to Seokjin for the fox to know exactly what he wants to say. 

“I heard Maria talking to Richard about the organization and what happens next, Namjoon. I already know what you’re going to say.” 

“It’s not immediate, especially not when she’s in the hospital, but-”

“But, this is not a conversation we should be having with just the two of us.” 

“You know I need you to know first right now, I need to know if this is something that would be possible.” 

“You would make it possible- I know you too well. I’ll let you figure out what you want to say, and what you need to tell the others. But- I’m on your side.” Seokjin gives him a light shoulder bump that lightens the mood just the slightest. 

“I didn’t hide anything from you or the pack.” Namjoon says suddenly, knowing that if he says to the pack what he wants to say, he wants his hyung to know that it wasn’t a long-awaited bomb-drop. “Anything I want to say when we talk to them, it’s not something I- I would never wait to say it in a time like this.”

“I know. I guess that was something I talked to Taehyung about and not you.” Namjoon gives him a questioning look. “Before I called you yesterday inviting Y/N, I talked to Taehyung about my worries. I let my fears get the best of me in times that I should have put Taehyung and you first. I don’t mind if you or him, or anyone, meets another person. We can’t control that- obviously, I mean we have a pack of seven. But, I will support you no matter what. I will take care of her as well, just as another part of the family.” 

“You’re making me emotional at the worst time.” Namjoon lets out a nervous laugh at the realization that his feelings aren’t just settled into his skin anymore. His feelings for Y/N aren’t just an afterthought when he’s around her- it’s now something that will be out into the universe to fuck him over. “I just want us all to be comfortable- and I just want her to have a home. That’s all she needs right now, I want to be that for her.”

Seokjin looks at him with something akin to pride. Namjoon tries to catch it for as long as possible. 

“If she’s okay with that, I will help you make that happen.” Seokjin says. 

-

Y/N

*

It feels like she’s suffocating- just as it did last night. Just as it felt when his hands were around her neck- on her legs, on her stomach, on her. All she can see is black, but there is the feeling of him here- a feeling of those few times when they tried to take advantage of her with no roof over her head and nowhere to flee to. They always gripped on tight, underestimating the strength her cheetah gives her. It’s not usually enough strength to completely fight them off, but it’s always enough to have enough time to run as far as she can. 

The darkness is pushing on her chest- just after having a dreamless sleep, a resting sleep- trying to pry things from her she would never give them. They don’t deserve it, it’s not for them. It gets harder and harder for her to breathe. In this darkness, she doesn’t even have anything to fight off, there’s no way out- there’s nothing she can do. 

“Y/N.”

‘No, leave me alone. Please.’

“Y/N.” 

‘Please. Please don’t touch me.’

“Y/N!”

Suddenly there is an actual hand on her arm. She was asleep and he had time to touch her when she couldn’t stop him. 

Her eyes shoot open to bright hospital lights, trying to move as quickly as she can to get away from the arm that touches her- trying to crawl up the bed and see who it is this time. 

Namjoon.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you were just having a nightmare.” His hands are in the air defensively. It’s just him and she’s fine but- why can’t she breathe? God, why can she still feel him on her. She can feel the weight of him on her chest, pressing all the air from her. 

“Y/N you need to breathe slowly. You’re going to make yourself pass out. Breathe in through your nose and out your mouth.” 

She’s trying. She doesn’t want to feel like this, she doesn’t want to be unconscious and vulnerable again. 

“Can I touch you? Can I help you?” 

Her response doesn’t leave her lips like she wants it, not when she’s gulping down air like this. Instead she’s scooting closer, trying to find relief in him again. She needs it, no matter how much she doesn’t want to rely on him. 

  His arms are immediately going to work. One slips behind her neck to find that magical muscle, the other pushes her frizzy curls from her face to pet at her hair with soothing words. 

“In through your nose and out your mouth. Just focus on this feeling. Focus on my voice. Give yourself something to pinpoint.” 

She can barely listen to him, but the feeling of him against her neck is hypersensitive. It seems his touch always is no matter how simple it is. It’s the only thing she can seem to focus on, her lungs filling at a rate that is less and less painful. 

*

“There you go. Look at me.” 

She does look up at him now that it hurts less to breathe. She's terrified she'll see pity, though with how everything has always gone for her, sometimes she wants it- craves attention even if it's with an aching heart and empty promises. This time she only sees her Namjoon. The wolf with kind eyes and an even kinder soul. He's looking down at her with such cherish that it completely distracts her from the panic that was eating her up.  

"Good. Do you feel better?" He wipes at her face, picking up wet stains that she didn’t even realize were there- but thanks to the scratch near her eye, the skin is sensitive. He's not even grossed out about how she looks or the things she can’t get a hold on yet. He’s so gentle no matter what she’s given him, no matter what he sees himself. 

“Yeah.” She gets out with a hoarse voice.  “I’m sorry.” She whispers after hearing her own voice. 

“Don’t be sorry, it was a nightmare- we all have nightmares.” That she can’t change, she’ll always have them. 

“I’m sorry you had to take care of me.” She specifies, looking away from him and not wanting to see that caring look on his face anymore. She doesn’t get far when the hand from her neck slides up to direct her face back to him. 

“I would not be here if I didn’t want to- I always want to care for you, no matter how it looks. Even if you need something small- something useless- it’s you so I’ll take care of it.” 

She can’t bear him saying this now. Y/N has believed him before, somehow a man has whittled his way into her mind and heart in ways she’d never thought was possible. But, him saying it as she looks like this and reacts like this- after she’s done something horrible- is unbearable. 

“Okay.” Is all she can say with a teary-eyed nod. If she looks at him any longer she’ll cry more than she has in the last couple days, so she turns away, and he finally lets her. 

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He asks, changing the subject, doing her a favor without knowing. 

“There’s some water in the minifridge.” She replies slowly. Everything is still cloudy and annoying, but Namjoon never asked for irritation, so she'll be nice for now. He grabs one of the chilled water bottles and opens it for her with a satisfying click before handing it to her within seconds. 

“Are you hungry? Maria left some food for you, she’s waiting outside if you need her.” 

“I’m okay for now, just tired.” She says meekly. She looks up to find him assessing her with a gaze that seems a little too invasive. She can’t help but tell him more upon seeing the look. “I haven’t been able to sleep- with the nightmares.” She admits. 

“You seemed okay until I left you, I’m sorry. I needed to check in with Seokjin-hyung without letting him into the room.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

Instead of any more easy conversation that they usually have, there’s silence that only seems to grow at what has been unsaid. They’re in a damn hospital for crying out loud. Namjoon literally got questioned by the police and she won’t feel safe for a long time. It’s all waiting to be spilled right here in this uncomfortable bed in the most uncomfortable room. 

“Did they tell you what happened?” 

“I should go and let Maria come in.”

They both speak at the same time. 

“What?” Y/N asks first, voice a little high in wanting. Why would he just leave suddenly? 

“Oh, no they didn’t tell me. I didn’t know if you’d want to so I did ask but, after some clarity of realizing that you’re okay, I just want to wait until you tell me as much as you want to give.” 

His response is like whiplash after his announcement of leaving, so instead she keeps the conversation on one topic. 

“I don’t want to tell you until I’m out of here. I hate it here.” She admits. Anything is better than the drabby shelters she’s been in and out of- and definitely better than the dried-up bridges she’d sleep under. But, this place always feels so cold and unwelcoming. It reminds her of her first visit to the hospital and seeing doctors for the first time. It was so invasive despite being needed- even if she was thankful, it was all so fast. 

“Whenever you want.” Is all he says in a voice that proves he’s just tip-toeing. 

“Why did you want to leave?” She finally asks. 

“Maria said you weren’t being verbal with her, so I just thought maybe you wanted to talk to her, especially because you haven’t seen her for a few hours. I just want you to be comfortable.” 

She could never get mad at him- she probably could in the right circumstance- so she just gives him a sigh that gives in to whatever he says. He’s right in a sense anyways. 

“Yeah I should talk to her, you should get back home to your pack anyways. I’m sure they’re worried about you.” She answers with honesty. She can’t keep him here away from them just because she doesn’t feel safe yet. Even if the only place she has felt safe is in his arms, she can’t burden him with that. 

“I’ll go let them know-”

“Just Maria.” She says far too quickly. 

“Okay, just Maria. I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

He leaves with an air to him that was far more tentative than earlier. Where did it go wrong? What line did they cross that has them both walking on eggshells? It always feels so fine with him, airy and refreshing in a way that allows her to finally breathe and have no worries in the world. Why is it that it changes so quickly sometimes? What is being left unsaid that she’s too inexperienced or immature to realize? 

“Hey sweetie.” Maria comes in with the normal softness she had even before this happened. But this time, Y/N can tell that she’s been crying. Her eyes look tired, red-rimmed, and far too down-turned to just be a caring stare. 

“Hi.” 

“How are you feeling?” She asks, causing Y/N to place the blanket back over her body to stop the chill of the room from finding her unprepared. 

“I’m okay.” 

“That’s good.” She sits in the same chair Namjoon did when he first came to see her. Again, an edge of tentativeness creeps into her mannerisms. He hands fidget in her lap and her eyes begin to water again. Y/N immediately pushes forward at the sight. 

“I didn’t think it’d come to this. Ya’know I thought I could make a safe space for you. One where you’d never have to worry about getting hurt.” Her lip wobbles in a way that has Y/N’s own eyes watering up in response. “I’m so sorry this happened. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.” It’s inevitable when flashes of last night creep into her mind. She closes her eyes, pushing them down and down until later when she can fight them on her own. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“I will take the blame, if it helps to take some of the blow.” 

“That’s not fair, you know that’s not fair.” Y/N almost pleads. 

“I knew there would be more consequences, if not directly made in my direction, definitely in yours when the organization paired us together. I mean- I knew there’d be legal proceedings that I’d have to handle that I really would do anything to get us out of, but I know they’d be hard on you. So, when the organization called earlier-”

Her choked sob that she swallows to keep going on has Y/N panicking now. Thankfully, it’s not enough to cause her the same panic as before, but it’s definitely enough to have her sitting up straighter, her ears perked and tail wrapped into an unbearably tight hold. 

“The hospitalization mixed with the police involvement isn’t taken lightly- as it shouldn’t be- but the organization has protocols in place. With our case, there will definitely be a rehoming done.” 

Y/N really didn’t know what exactly the protocol would be, other than the very few more common occurrences that the organization workers informed her of incase she needed to report them without the homeowners knowing. The shock of how quickly everything is moving has her completely blocking out Maria. She can’t comprehend just how awful it would be to transition to a new home in a time like this. She can’t fathom how Maria feels and- to be horribly honest- she’s worried about how Maria and Richard will cope with whatever it is they are exactly going to go through. Despite what she feels for Richard, she can’t help but feel like this was her fault. 

-

Namjoon

Stepping into the house after everything this morning is like walking into quicksand. The feeling of being pulled farther and farther into some irreversible thing is sickening. Not because of the unavoidable situation, but because of how many things could go wrong now. 

Taehyung is on him in seconds, trying his best to scent and pry answers out with pleading eyes and whimpers. 

“Let’s get everyone together and talk, so I only have to have this conversation once.” 

Luckily everyone is home, with some that have work schedules on the weekend- such as Yoongi who coaches kiddie basketball and had two early games this morning- it is hard to have everyone together before noon. But somehow it’s happened and he’s extremely lucky to see his pack all in one place. The events of today have made him so eager to make sure his pack is safe and home. Even if they all watch him with different levels of questioning eyes, he’d rather they be safe and expectant than not here at all. 

“So far, legally, it seems to be a clean case- though I still have no idea what exactly happened.” He’s speaking before he even realizes it, standing in front of everyone sitting and standing in the living room. 

“Y/N is…okay. She’s not comfortable in the hospital so she doesn’t want to tell me yet, but she’s just- she’s hurt yes. She’s bruised and scratched in ways that will heal, but it’s really just her mental state that can’t be healed measurably.” 

Namjoon seems to pause for no other reason than anxiety. He really didn’t think about this enough, this conversation in this circumstance. They’re all so patient as they wait, even Taehyung who has to be squeezed between Jimin and Hoseok to sit still. 

“When I introduced Y/N, it wasn’t with ulterior motives other than to help her build relationships. Yes, I was also interested in a friendship with her before this- that and the opportunity for Taehyung and her to have each other for their cheetahs was all I wanted. But, I have to be honest with myself. And with you all.” 

He gets a reassuring squeeze of his hand from Seokjin that makes him take a deep breath he didn’t know he needed. It’s never been him that brought up another potential pack member. It’s always one of his sociable mates that seem to be glued to someone or have a certain glow when they get home after a one-off encounter. He’s never minded it, he even welcomed it as long as they were a good fit for his home and all the people he cared about. But now, it feels like rejection is imminent. 

“Y/N is someone that unexpectedly made me feel so warm. Even if I was away from her, I always wished that she was thinking of me the way she thought of me and it’s- embarrassing honestly. Because I had just met her, and I wanted to get to know her faster than I thought was possible. I didn't want to say it in this context, I didn't want it to feel rushed and unprepared because I really do care about you guys and your opinions more than anything, but I also really care about her- in a way that feels filled with potential." 

"Hyung." Jimin suddenly speaks up, catching Namjoon's attention immediately. 

"I don't mind- I don't think any of us mind that you found someone you're interested in. I think it's obvious we enjoy having a big family- and Y/N was so sweet. But…this only feels rushed because it sounds like you have something else to propose." Jimin says while a few others in the pack nod at his addition. Namjoon can only give a heavy sigh before proceeding. 

"I'm sorry this happened this way- I will do it another time. When things hopefully work out or fall apart. I promise I'll come back to this. But, the most important part to discuss is- because of this incident, Y/N will need to be rehomed as soon as she's out of the hospital and ready. Until then she'd be in a shelter that's far too cramped."

"Namjoon, are you saying that someone we met once is to be rehomed with us?" Yoongi asks, using a tone that proves this conversation is not going to go as smoothly as planned.  

"I'm not stating or implying it's underway. It's something I am suggesting that we talk about the possibility that our home is a safe place that she needs until she can get her feet on the ground or wherever it takes us. But, for now, a safe home."

"I want her here." Taehyung states without looking at any of the others.

"I'd love to hear more thoughts." Namjoon almost pleads. 

"Is she even going to feel safe here?" Hoseok asks, looking wearily at the pack around him.

"I still have to talk to her after this, but I want her to at least have options. Her here, safe in this house, would be the best for her- other than that I'll have to figure it out if you guys aren't comfortable."

"She's really nice, and I felt okay around her. I know you guys make me feel safe. I want her to have that as well." Jungkook speaks up, seeming to have an overall effect on the group. Reminding everyone that they've done this before. 

They've taken Jungkook in when the shelter kicked him out and in his attempts to flee he ended up hiding in their backyard as a bunny, nibbling on Seokjin's plants to get some type of food. He wouldn't shift for weeks, and it had Taehyung so perplexed by the little bunny's tolerance for lack of skin to skin contact. 

"If we all agree, how would we care for her? She's not going to feel safe automatically, and she's going to need care that we aren't familiar with yet." Yoongi says logically.

"I work from home and will take full responsibility for her. I just want everyone to feel comfortable with her and for her to have a place to heal and keep her relationships. I want everyone to be okay with that before going through."

There's a thoughtful silence, before Seokjin speaks, starting the final decisions. 

"I will help Namjoon take care of her, I enjoyed her company and I think that it's best to help others when we're so closely presented the opportunity to- no matter what it leads to."

"I still think the same. She'll be safe here, it's what's best, especially since she's a cheetah." Jungkook agrees again.

"I want her here." Taehyung plainly says again.

"I think her safety at the moment would be best, and Namjoon's judgment is the reason he's the pack leader. I trust you, Joonie-hyung." Jimin adds.

"I agree, and she was sweet and seemed like she needed us to bring her out of her shell, I think she could thrive with hybrids." Hoseok joins. 

Everyone seems to turn and look at Yoongi at the same time, knowing that his disapproval changes the whole situation. Namjoon would come up with something else if he didn't want her to stay with them, he's okay with that as long as he can provide something for her. 

"I trust you Joon-ah, I told you I don't think you'd ever hurt us. You know I'm just protective of our peace. As long as we can deal with everything as a pack, not just you and her with her needs and changes in behavior- I'm down. We are a pack, we act like one, even if she's not an official member yet." 

Namjoon holds onto that 'yet', all the agreements, and the hope he has that Y/N takes this home into consideration.

-

Y/N

“Alright miss L/N, I’ll be your attorney in any possible cases that may be opened for testimonies and questioning. At the moment, there is enough evidence for detectives and a judge to have a tight self-defense case- but Leonord’s wife could sue for a few reasons and that is her choice, so in those cases I will be defending you free of charge through the re-homing organization. Sounds good so far?” 

The lady is quite nice, despite having to sit in the most uncomfortable chair and being in another bright room. Y/N is just happy to have information on everything when it seems no one wanted to tell her anything. She’s still getting flashbacks to last night, to how similar it was to those other times- the only difference being the confidence she was able to obtain having healthy relationships and a roof to live under. 

“Sounds good. But- I have a question.” 

“Of course.” 

“Do you know anything about the re-homing situation?” 

“Legally, the organization has to immediately extract you from the home you were in where the incident happened. Even if this was a random incident, or if there was a happenstance that was not the homeowner’s fault or cause- the organization has to deem that home unsafe and thus wants to keep the hybrid’s wellbeing in mind above all.” 

“Don’t people have to know about what I did when getting information to home me?” The lady gives her a flash of pity at that, immediately causing Y/N’s stomach to drop. 

“Yes, the potential homes will need to know why you are being re-homed with as much information as legally available. But, you case is not-” 

She cuts her off after she gets her answer, zoned out to think about all the ways she would be perceived in a time like this. She wouldn’t be re-homed. She’d end up in another shelter that has hybrids packed in like prison cells. She’d have to figure out who is safe and who’s not based solely on looks and conversations she’d rather not have at all. 

“Miss L/N?” The attorney says, finally pulling Y/N’s attention onto her again. 

“Sorry, I’m listening.” 

“I have questioning records containing a Kim Namjoon? You know him personally, correct?” 

“Yeah, he’s from the organization, we’re…friends. I was visiting him and his pack yesterday before I was driven home and-” She stops, knowing that the attorney knows everything already. 

“I work with him, through the law firm. He’s in charge of hybrid cases in our offices, specifically for hybrid shelters.” 

“Okay.” 

“I would talk to him about information in the re-homing process.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I think he’ll have more information for you that will help you in the process.” She gives her a small smile that she can’t even figure out in the context. 

“Sure.” Is all she can say, confused and temples pounding from everything I’ve had to process in the past 24 hours. 

-

‘Wanna have dinner together?’ 

Y/N stares at the confusing text from Namjoon. He does remember that she’s in the hospital, right? The fleeting thought of Namjoon sending this to another girl has reeling into more thoughts that make the first one not so fleeting. Just to make sure he’s not insane right now, she answers. 

‘Yeah.’ 

It takes no time for her hospital room door to open and Namjoon to already be waltzing in with a bag of goodies she can’t pinpoint but can smell. And god, do they smell good. By the time he's up close and opening the bag she can't help but pinpoint her focus on the food he's pulling out rather than whatever he's saying. He finishes opening the containers with a little wave of his hands and pride on his face.

"Seokjin made everything, it's still warm since he just made it, but I thought I'd share it with you." 

"What if I had said no?"

"I would've left the food and went on my way after checking up on you. Either way you're fed and I'm happy."

"I'm starting to see how much you and Taehyung have in common." Y/N states, giving him a small smile that in turn stops Namjoon in his tracks for some reason. 

"Yeah, we, uh, we were the first of the pack. We found each other in a shelter." Namjoon says, taking his container of perfectly portioned foods and starts to eat. 

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, it was only a few years ago that I finally got out of there thanks to the organization. There's a lot more to talk about, but, yeah we were the first."

"The organization? You were-"

"A case? Yeah. I was in a shelter for a year, the longest they kept predators like me. The organization puts money into those in the shelters that are about to be kicked out to fend for themselves. I got lucky, extremely lucky. I met Taehyung in there and promised him I’d be back no matter what. I worked to push away all my hate for humans and what they’d done to those like me- I worked alongside them and was able to carve a place for myself in society. It took me almost exactly a year, but Taehyung is a year younger than me so I was able to get to him in time. Well, perfect timing- because his time as a predator was also up and instead of having to pay a large sum to a shelter that definitely didn’t deserve it I was able to just show up on the day he was released by them with nothing provided for his survival. I had my own little apartment by then and was able to afford to regularly donate to the organization. I scored an amazing job with lots of training, and with Taehyung’s help I was able to shut down that shelter and rehome all those inside of it. Sadly, a lot went to the organization’s shelters. But, they’re the best bet they have, really. They got the care they needed there, nonetheless.” 

Hearing Namjoon’s story for the first time clicks things into place that seemingly weren’t as snuggly fit in as she thought they were. His kindness towards her no matter how she acted towards him, the amount of time and effort he put into volunteering and thus her, and the amount of truth behind his words when he voices his thoughts and concerns for her. It all finally presses into the crevices that were ready to fall apart in time of being disappointed. It’s as if a glowing hue of blue settles around him as she stares at him, watching him eat, watching him move. It’s odd to feel this way about someone, when she never had the luxury to even ‘like’ a person before. Now, she feels something deep in her gut- something that wants her to memorize every piece of him, every little breath and quirk of his features. 

“What’s that look for?” Namjoon asks with an amused smile, pulling her out of the trance. But, it’s not a trance when that safe aura sticks to him even when she’s paying attention to the mundane current happenings. 

“I don’t know.” She says honestly- she has no clue what it all means. But how awful would it feel if it ended? “You’re just, admirable.” 

“I just wanted to do my best for him and myself.”

“That’s hard for a lot of people.” She says, mostly referring to herself. 

“Nah, people just don’t give themselves enough credit. We’re all here just trying to live and search for something fulfilling.” Namjoon shoots back. 

“Yeah. I guess.” Her heart clenches at his words. Fulfilling. Whatever she has with him could just be fulfilling, thus it’s a reason for her to keep trying.

“Namjoon.” She tries to get his attention. He only looks up at her in question. 

“I met an attorney. One that mentioned she works with you.” She stirs around her still uneaten rice and veggies to get some courage to go on. “She told me to ask about the rehoming situation? Do you know why?” 

His look alone is enough to tell her he does, but he doesn’t immediately say anything. 

“I, uh, yeah-” he sets down his bowl of food before going on, preparing himself for something that she’s suddenly scared to find out. “I contacted her earlier today. That’s honestly, probably, why she got to talk to you so quickly. I kinda- Well I kinda asked her what the process would be like to suggest a home for you that isn’t on the official list, but is home to a volunteer.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know if there’s any perfect way to suggest this, but- I knew about the protocol the organization has in place for something like this, and I knew you would need to be rehomed. I’m in a position where I could- help.” He pauses before finishing. “Well, we could, my pack.” 

“Namjoon.” She can’t get anything else out. 

“I talked to them after leaving this morning. I just needed to discuss it and make sure that this was something that they were all okay with, and we are a large family so it needs to be well-conversed. They all are okay with it, and I know it’s going to take a ton of effort and planning and consideration on my part- I’m not taking this lightly at all. That’s the only reason I contacted her so fast, I just wanted to make sure that this was something that could be done before even bringing it up to you. I don’t want to ever give you false hope or feel like you can’t trust me or what I say- so I’ve really thought about it and all the guys have as well. We could share our home with you if you’d like. I’d like you to be a part of it.”

She can’t tell if it’s a feeling of instant relief, so quickly having left her body that she’s nauseous- or she’s just nauseous in general over the thought of her actually having this option. It could also be the fact that Namjoon truly cares with his whole being, it feels like. Living with his damn pack after a police investigation done on her that had him questioned. Living with his pack after meeting them once and sharing little awkward conversations. Living with his pack of seven guys that all seem to be totally okay with it. It’s the first that drives her the most mad. 

“You don’t even know what I did.” 

“You said you didn’t want to tell me right now. I respect that- and I trust you, Y/N.”

“Why? Why would they all agree and why-” She can’t even comprehend the consideration they’re taking. 

“In the most basic way possible- we are hybrids that have been in shit positions before, they all vary and they all have their own story to tell, but we care about each other no matter what. We know what it’s like to not have anyone, or to finally find someone and try to lock onto them to keep safe and protected. It’s the animal in us that needs to form a pack, and that isn’t something as simple as human words can tell. It feels right- having you around.” 

If he tells it in that way- animal instincts and such- it makes more sense. But it still doesn’t excuse the human part of her that did what it did. Hell, she’s sure her cheetah played a large role in what she did. Right now, though, she wants to hold onto this hope, and she wants to have something that isn’t just temporary or pity-filled. This is the best choice she has, being safe in the pack home, with Namjoon and Taehyung especially. She’ll have a chance to learn more about her cheetah more often and she can finally learn about other hybrids. If anything, Namjoon will hear what she did and will decide against keeping her there, and then she can figure it out. But for now, she has a chance to be safe. That’s all she wants right now. 

“I have another deal to make.” 

“Lemme hear it.” 

“If I accept and you hear what I’ve done and you change your mind afterwards-” Namjoon looks as if he’ll speak but she gives him a pointed look. “If you change your mind, then I will find an alternative through the system and deal with my own consequences accordingly. If I accept and you hear what I’ve done but feel as though it doesn’t change your comfort, then I will need something to do. I can’t live with you for free as someone who’s not a part of the pack. Whatever you decide that fits my schedule, I will help around the house.” 

“As pack leader-” Namjoon holds out his hand for her to grab onto, his warmth immediate and addicting. “You have a deal.”

[overly-verbose]

I take back my previous threats of violence as my foolish self had not scampered through your art book in all its glory.

Chapter 8 has the reference that is to be used in general, correct?

No worries, I actually chuckled a bit reading that lmao - I didn't expect a reference for SIkuna being in high enough demand for me to be threatened at watergun-point 😂

(the previous Ask with the 'threats of violence' in question for context purposes;

😂)

I'll probably try to draw something of an actual approximation of a 'reference sheet' with the little differences (I was actually planning to do that for the Ask but uh that'd take much longer than this), but to explain it quickly (well, for me quickly which isn't at all);

Chapter 8 of Visuals has actually moreso to do with a perhaps-hypothetical scenario in which later down the timeline SIkuna gets Somehow separated from Yuji and gains a body of his own

- and that allows him to switch between Normal Form

which is basically how he looked whilst possessing Yuji, except probably quite a bit taller (it's already a bit stifling in comparison to the Big Form so he wouldn't make himself even shorter just to keep to Yuji's height lol), a bit older

(he looks a bit older whilst possessing Yuji anyway but yeah),

with some (usually) black earrings and two slits in his left eyebrow to connect it to the Big Form visually

The version with the earrings and slitted eyebrow can f.e. be seen in Chapter 11 lol, just with pink hair for that last one

And Big Form/True Form

which is about 9~feet / 3~ meters tall (I based it off of that one short manga flashback moment rather than some other seemingly smaller depictions?), has four arms and such + mostly wears the outfit from Chapter 8/14 but would also wear different things just like he would in Normal Form

- and I follow the logic of the clothes Somehow changing to fit whenever he suddenly shrinks or grows rather than having to have specifics outfits, but the four-arms thing still kinda demands a different wardrobe anyway for most cases lol

(+ he does have the stomach mouth in the Big Form, and sometimes he'll prefer to leave it uncovered so another outfit difference then,

like maybe an open robe in place of a shirt, something cropped, or occasionally just forgoing a shirt altogether lol)

I think a better reference for the height comparison between him and other characters in that form is moreso Chapter 11 and 14, but it doesn't matter That much

But like, in terms of outfit it doesn't have to be exactly what I've drawn before lol

- he's more of a comfy/casual guy but I'm 1000% certain that Nobara + perhaps other kids would take him shopping sometimes (she or they can't let this particular Older Familial Figure go unfashionable constantly!) and he'd probably want to occasionally wear something more Wowowo so he'd likely have something other than a dozen sweatshirts (and robes and comfy pants and such) somewhere in his wardrobe too 😂

(some Hello Kitty™ merch is also a must, For The Meme!!!)

And I've mentioned it a few times before but, especially if separate from Yuji unless he'd also agree to painted nails which he just might, he's likely to have painted claws/nails sometimes lol - they're a nice big canvas for Nobara to practice her skills on y'know, and he definitely wouldn't mind

.

In terms of how he looks inside the Domain, it's mostly just Canon-kuna's look lol

The kimono/kosode(? I have yet to understand what the exact difference is but heard it may be the second) is the same, the scarf and blue(?) accents on the sides of the main robe and stuff

with the anime-only addition bow to the back of the sash/idk material belt because yes, and because it's something to fiddle with whenever SIkuna gets ungodly bored lmao (the equivalent of fiddling with a sweatshirt's zipper or hoodie string lol)

I've interpreted whatever Canon-kuna wears on his legs as some sort of simple black pants that run down until a bit after the socks beneath the sandals(?) start or something like that??

I don't think he wears anything under the upper part of the kimono(?) but maybe there is some sorta ancient Japanese equivalent of a t-shirt I dunno about lol, besides that it's the same with the wide sleeves and everything

The sandals(?) are the same as in Canon, I've seen somewhere that they could have a small false heel (like a cut underneath that doesn't actually raise the heel of the foot idk how to explain it better) but it's an utter detail lol

As aforementioned, the scarf-thing around his neck is the same too, it's definitely an addition SIkuna appreciates heh - it's comfy 👍

(the Inner/Innate Domain examples I've drawn in Chapters 1, 4, 5, most of 10, 1st bonus drawing in 11, a cropped out glimpse in 13 and second drawing of 14 is ok lol - I just forgot about some things earlier/got better at it with time maybe)

.

In terms of physical differences, in or outside the Domain, the biggest one is probably the eyes

His usual/regular look involves the pupil/most inner part of the eye being white, then having a ring of darker red, then much lighter/brighter red

Meanwhile, whenever he's feeling particularly murderous/spooky/overall more OG-kuna-like (f.e. in Part 4 after a bit of 'experimenting' on the Special Grade), the sequence becomes [very light/bright red, much darker red, a bit lighter/brighter red]

(I mostly draw the eyes in a more oval shape, but that's just my stylistic choice lol - I don't mind it being the same but don't mind otherwise ofc

Same with the colours, they don't have to be Exactly those)

Like this;

And the fact that he actually has a whole Four eyes be eyes and usually all open - the secondary eyes are smaller, but are full eyes with colour and stuff rather than the sometimes barely-there look they had with Canon-kuna

(I'm not yet 100% certain if the difference in colouring is seen in-universe, though 🤔 - but for drawings yeah)

Another thing that isn't usually consistent in the manga/anime (from what I can remember) is the way Canon-kuna sometimes has moreso claws Or fingernails - SIkuna basically always has claws (they sharp!)

I'm kinda contemplating including slightly pointed at the tips ears to the list but it's not an 'official' characteristic lol

.

I've... Uh. Gone off on a tangent?? As per usual lmfAO-

But hope you get at least a little useful info from this?? 😂

(I don't mind clarifying questions lmfao (though my apologies if I take some time to respond))

Also, I'm not that much of a stickler for detail just fyi - even if the interpretation were to differ in some way from this rambly excuse for a guide I'd still love and adore any and all art created for my story because hOLY MAC A R O N I- *implodes from pure joy*

(Assuming, of course, that that's what 'for scientific purposes' meant 😂)

[randomfoxehs-belly]

Psaro thoughts started giving me ideas

So what that made me start thinking about was like, big bad evil monster overlord dude who totally won and took over the land - hears about a prophecy of a hero chosen by the gods who will one day rise up and overthrow him. So he has his minions on the look out for that shit, and finally gets a report of the chosen hero child being found in some village. So he's like sick af and hops on over and just fucking like kidnaps the kid and takes him home and raises him as his own basically xD

When he like drags the kid out of his crying mothers arms his minions are like "so you gonna fuck him up?" and he's like "oh pshh, I will not hitch the wagon of my destiny to the hollow words of a soothsayer -.- he's just a child, he hasn't done anything to me yet. Buuuuut a child supposedly chosen by the gods could be a very powerful asset for my legions >;) "

that's the thought flower that bloomed in my brain while everything was swirling in a fog anyway

and also the monsters who are basically ruling the world are vorny and eat people that's certainly part of it

they are monsters

and they do be eating btiches =x

humans are second class citizens

snackizens perhaps

and then I started brainstorming it with a friend of mine and he kinda meshed it with this existing idea he already had and it just started fucking groovin and shmoovin

starting out as a rags to riches story of demon boi clawing his way up to becoming the final boss monster overlord >3>

in a desert mad max style setting where humans are bottom of the food chain to demons and monsters~

A massive region which has the whole sandland vibe, where all the humans are all food boys and there's plenty of hungry demons and monsters all around the pred scale about

And some Beelz demon apex rising to becom the overlord and get the monsters in shape, so they can rule the land and make sure the foodboys are put in line and treated like the sluts and meals they all truly are =3

having like a pred chauvinist mentality of preyboys belong in the kitchen lol

Being chauvanisitc towards the tasty boys cause well that's just the facts, and if they can't accept the fact they're meant to be sluts and meals well they're just kidding themselves =9

Tasty boys are food and you can talk down to them like the meals they are uwu

Even when they're angry post apocalypse bois with weapons, still gonna remind em they're meals~

Also, the vibe of like

It might be hot outside, but a demon's guts are gonna be even fucking hotter because of the sheer humidity and internal heat that y'know, being a demon, represents =3=

Absolute fucking broiler guts~

Leaning into the whole dickishness of it all~

Giving it a mild justification why some boys are being fussy and not wanting to just be mealsluts >3>

Cuz demon guys are fucking rude and unpleasant

being devilish~

boys are flinching away while you loom over them being like 😏

leaning in close while they wince away, opening wide and huffing hot steam in their face while they can only squirm and whimper

"hehe what's the problem~? You don't see fish shying away from the lake now do ya, why would you be resisting my hungry gut~?"

Beelz character model but like Gaston's personality xD

Imagining Beelzebub like so

Sitting on a humans face acting as the throne cushion

Toriyama reused character designs from dragon ball for dragon quest all over the place so it's fine to just slap Beelzebubs character design on this idea xD

Maybe with like, Malrothe clothes >3>

An approximation

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

Ritsu!

man I said I'd get to queueing up these old prompts and then Didn't... but at least I've gotten around to it now! Also to contextualize how old this prompt is? When I first filled out this profile for him I hadn't even established what goes on with him and Rex ultimately! (This was written before their dynamic retcon even, whoopsies).

I tweaked some things but I'm going to post the original info (Hisui variant) below a cut under the up-to-date profile. I'm also going to add a bonus profile for Rex in the reblog since I happened to do that for funsies, so look out for that ;)

Who are they?

Full name?  Ritsu [last name tbd]

Nicknames? N/A

Gender/pronouns? Male (probably), he/him

Orientation? Aroace-spec - not sure if aro or demiro

Age/Birthday? 23, roughly / he forgor [unset]

Fun fact! Zodiac? :( (Pisces? Or Aquarius/Pisces cusp maybe)

What’s their personality?

Major good traits? Always willing to help others, generous, good with kids, pretty patient

Major flaws? Struggles with putting himself first; isn't always good at voicing his thoughts; more likely to become quietly distant than address a problem

Goals? To settle into the place he can truly belong

Fears? Being uprooted again, dreaming or making up his life entirely

Optimistic or pessimistic? Tempered optimistic

Introvert, extrovert, or ambivert? Introverted, but good with people

Empathetic or un-empathetic? Very empathetic

Do they wait and plan or dive right in? He much prefers to wait and plan... Sometimes he gets so caught up on this step he never follows through with said plans

Do they go with the flow or forge their own path? He prefers to go with the flow but narratively keeps being put in a position to forge (if that makes any sense at all)

Fun fact! Other defining traits? Incredibly klutzy, lacks a lot of coordination despite having good response times.

Relations to the world?

Who’s their family? He has yet to regain his memories of them, but both parents are alive and well in his home region.

Where are they from? Fortree City, Hoenn

Where do they live now? Freezington in the Crown Tundra - though in practice he's rarely there.

Do they have a job? If so, what is it? He is a traveling assistant with Rex's legend research.

How are they with technology? He's most likely approximately two centuries behind the times. It's not going well lol

Connections to religion or spirituality? Him and God aren't exactly on speaking terms anymore.

Powers or magic? None anymore

Fun fact! Connections to the lore? He has been isekai'd twice now, and then finally brought back home with no memory of what that even would mean to him. He's a very influential case to the world around him, but mostly he just wants to find a stable life for himself and help others like him if possible.

Favorites?

Favorite season/weather? Sunny days, probably prefers summer. He gets cold faster than he used to so it's soothing to be in the summer heat for him.

Favorite place? He still gets too cold but Freezington is growing on him regardless. He also loves visiting Postwick to catch up with Rex and Hop's family.

Favorite food? He's rediscovering his love for pasta dishes, and getting to try other new things each day. Sometimes he misses Beni's cooking though.

Favorite clothes/accessories? His Rescue Team Bandanna; his old uniform from the Galaxy team.

Favorite animal? The typhlosion line, naturally!

Favorite/most frequently used mode of transportation? His preferred mode is riding on pokemon, like in Hisui, but nowadays it seems vehicles are the dominant way of travel...

Favorite holiday? None that he can celebrate nowadays - most holidays are still too socially overwhelming for him.

Hobbies? Reading, reading, reading. There's much in the world for him to catch up on, but also it's a very calming, lowkey activity - he's missed having that in his life. It's an equal balance of nonfiction and comics.

Relationships?

Best friends? Rex and Hop!

Closest family member? He hasn't really stayed in touch with any. Things have become rather awkward in light of him not actually being dead, and brought back by the one person they insistently shot down....

Partner/s? Rex - not sure if romantic or QPR yet.

Enemies? He still holds a grudge towards Commander Kamado, even if the guy's long dead by now.

What organizations/clubs/etc are they in? He wants to start his own group to find and help other cases like his.

Fun fact! What are they like with their best friend or partner? He's still quiet, but he learns how to be more open and vocal with both of them, and how to enjoy himself with others - and he learns how to be firm with Rex, standing his ground if something comes up that he disagrees with. Most would assume Rex is the one who takes the lead between the two of them, but most times it's Ritsu taking the stand to rein Rex in more than anything.

(Old profile below)

Who are they?

Full name?  Ritsu

Nicknames? N/A

Gender/pronouns? Male, he/him

Orientation? Aroace

Age/Birthday? 20, roughly / he forgor

Fun fact! Zodiac? :( (Pisces? Or Aquarius/Pisces cusp maybe)

What’s their personality?

Major good traits? Always willing to help others, generous, good with kids, pretty patient

Major flaws? Struggles with putting himself first; isn't always good at voicing his thoughts; more likely to become quietly distant than address a problem

Goals? To find a place he can truly belong

Fears? Being uprooted again, dreaming up his life entirely

Optimistic or pessimistic? Tempered optimistic

Introvert, extrovert, or ambivert? Introverted, but good with people

Empathetic or un-empathetic? Very empathetic

Do they wait and plan or dive right in? He much prefers to wait and plan... Sometimes he gets so caught up on this step he never follows through with said plans

Do they go with the flow or forge their own path? He prefers to go with the flow but narratively keeps being put in a position to forge (if that makes any sense at all)

Fun fact! Other defining traits? Incredibly klutzy, lacks a lot of coordination despite having good response times.

Relations to the world?

Who’s their family? He has lost his memory of them, including his parents, but they all are alive and well elsewhere

Where are they from? Fortree City, Hoenn

Where do they live now? Jubilife Village in Hisui

Do they have a job? If so, what is it? He is a ten star Survey Corps member

How are they with technology? Bad at this point lmao. Probably better than others around him but that's not saying much

Connections to religion or spirituality? Well, he can now call God up on his phone...

Powers or magic? None anymore

Fun fact! Connections to the lore? He has been isekai'd twice now, and after being banished and on the run as a cyndaquil, fighting legendaries with his own bare paws, Ritsu has become somewhat jaded to any punishments the Galaxy Team have attempted to threaten him with.

Favorites?

Favorite season/weather? Sunny days, probably prefers summer. He gets cold faster than he used to so it's soothing to be in the summer heat for him.

Favorite place? Either the pokemon pastures or up by Coronet Highlands's arena - he appreciates the view despite the chill.

Favorite food? Most likely pasta dishes that are not available in Hisui

Favorite clothes/accessories? His Rescue Team Bandanna.

Favorite animal? The typhlosion line, naturally!

Favorite/most frequently used mode of transportation? Wyrdeer

Favorite holiday? The-sky-isn't-splitting-open celebratory festival has to be his favorite so far. He hopes it'll become a yearly event. The festival, not the sky splitting open, of course.

Relationships?

Best friends? Might be Professor Laventon...?

Closest family member? N/A

Partner/s? N/A

Enemies? Commander Kamado. He works for the guy but is none too pleased with him as a person after the banishment events...

What organizations/clubs/etc are they in? Does the Galaxy team count?

[nigh-temptation]

An in depth look at the capital of Gulfeńn, Valkor! (Buckle up, this is a long one)

Before I start I should probably clear something up: For inspiration for coming up with Elven culture, I looked at Slavic, Balkan, Hindu, and Middle Eastern influences. The easiest way to think about it is this (if anything that comes up in this post is offensive to any of these cultures, please let me know and I will try my best to fix it. I am only human, and I am an American at that, so I can only go by my research 😅):

Clothing, Music, Language, and Patterning = Balkan

Language, Music, and Clothing = Slavic

Food, Architecture, and Religion = Hindu

Architecture, Desert Culture, Food, Clothing, and Music = Middle Eastern

Don’t worry, I will give examples and visual aid to help convey what I mean!

____________________________________________

Valkor: The Capital

Gulfeńn is split into four different provinces, or states. These provinces have their own biomes, traditions, and leaders. Valkor is one of four, and is simply referred to “Western Gulfeńn” sometimes.

(Spellings will be changed throughout tho will be changed to fit what I have in mind for the elves)

Population- 4.1 million

Valkor is a unique city, in the nature of its height. Valkor is located in a part of the Ośtavlet desert that dips into a valley, where it can reaches 104 degrees on average in the summer. The elves would have baked to death. So they settled on a huge, naturally forming rock spire. These desert spikes provide great shade in the unforgiving heat, and were the prime spot for elves to carve out their cities. The Yvvińna Palace was carved directly into the rock, while the actual city was built around the outside.

After hundreds of years, the rock on the spire started to crumble and erode. Scientists have been researching a way to regrow the rocks. So far, more and more houses have to be partially or entirely held up by sturdy metal beams. It’s not too bad yet…

Around the base of Valkor is a wall, and behind the wall is the rest of the city. 

These neighborhoods are safe from heatstroke because of the shade that both the Wall and the Palace provide. Air conditioning is also free for those who live on the base (and for those who want it. Usually it’s only the human citizens who actually turn it on. Elves are adequately adapted to deal with the heat)

For those who live “On the Sky” as they say, it can get well near freezing during the night and during the winter months. The ecosystem up near the sky is more humid. More trees and plants can be found growing up there. Sometimes it even snows. Children who live on the base usually go near the top to play on the rare occasion it does. The journey from the base to the very top takes approximately 4 hours of twisty, windy roads. 

Safety rails have been installed after many instances of people falling off the sharp cliff sides. 

The Valkorian Throne is the highest throne of Gulfeńn, since the city was founded by The Oj Dolo (in the books, known as The Great Erlking). The Oj Dolo was seen as a sort of god in his own right, the equivalent to the Christian prophet Jesus, or the Islamic prophet Muhammad. Like both, he was a real life figure but ascended to legend.

(Quick note on Oj Dolo: imagine my surprise when I found out that “Dolo” is not only an actual Polish name, but also Oj Dolo is a song! I swear I had no knowledge of this until a month after I chose the name. I chose Oj as the prefix because I knew it meant “Oh”)

Thus, any Czar that followed in his footsteps, and took the throne, was seen as a mortal god (kind of like Egyptian pharaohs). Most elves will refer to the Czar with the prefix “Oj” (said like “oi”), as it is seen as respectful to do so for “god mortals”. This includes the royal family, and the Dzikaję (child of the Czar).

As for the elven goddesses, I will talk more in depth about them later (I don’t wanna overwhelm anyone with info lol), but for now just know that they have two: Seińn of the Sun, and Favšta of the Moon.

BONUS: in my version of the story, The Elf King, or Oj Czar Ykoda, was of the royal bloodline and was in an arranged marriage with the daughter of the Duchess of Stęńgard, Epopyja.

Also, just to get it out of the way real fast, here Lugźer (Luger), and Tręlis (Trellis) are cousins not brothers. And I have big plans for both of them >:)c

Here are some reference images of what I think Valkorians might dress like (all taken from Pinterest):

Don’t worry about their ears! They poke out of their head coverings with ease, and still have plenty of room to move

Last note, I was thinking that for the Oj Czar, he could wear a kokoshnik along with his mask:

(Credit to Alena Abramova for these amazingly intricate dolls!)

So his silhouette is still long and flowy, but distinct and intimidating

Next up will probably be a look at our main characters, and then I’ll probably do a breakdown of the timeline <3

[atonalginger]

thanks for the tag @fangbangerghoul! today's wip is Ranger and the Deputy because it's all I've been working on right now to get what was supposed to be an interlude but has now become a full fledged act done. Because sometimes the characters run away with the plot...lol anywaay

the wip is below :)

--

The shops were next to one another with unassuming facades. Modest signs above the doors, the left ‘Adornos’ and the right ‘Galas’. Del leaned in to whisper in Kitty’s ear, “I messaged ahead so she’s ready for you. Roxie likes to talk but we don’t really have time so do your best to keep her on task.”

He kissed her ear and made his way to the other doors before Kitty could respond. She knew his mind was elsewhere, plotting their route in and out of the warehouse, what gear they could afford to carry, backup plans. Dread in his eyes every time he looked at her in the elevator or their walk to the shops. She was just cleared to work and they were instantly jumping back into the deep end. She knew he regretted taking her to the Empty Nest like he did and yet here they were, at it again.

Kitty opened the door and stepped into a small boutique that was fairly spartan to her eyes, considering it was supposed to be a dress shop. There were more chairs and couches than clothing in the shop, a small counter near the back with a red curtain covered door. She could hear tango music playing on a radio in the back room.

“Roxie?” Kitty asked, still looking around the empty shop, “It’s Deputy Lincoln.”

“Oh, you’re early!” a vibrant voice called from the backroom, “from Del’s message I assumed I had another five. Not to worry, come on back, we’ll get started.”

“He wanted to pass along that we’re under a time crunch,” Kitty said, deciding to put any stepped on toes under Del’s foot and not her own. Roxie was his friend after all.

“He did mention this was for a job,” Roxie peeked through the curtain, motioning excitedly for Kitty to join her. Her blue hair with a gray streak at the front popped against the red curtain, “He sent approximate sizes, which helped, but I still need to get you in a dress to see what will work.”

Kitty slipped behind the curtain and saw racks and racks of dresses, a dizzying array of colors and fabrics, cuts and styles, and several dresses hung up on the wall. Roxie was buzzing about the room, picking at dresses here and there, ticking her tongue or shaking her head as she glanced back at Kitty, “he mentioned you were a pastel beauty but I thought he meant your clothes; you’re a cotton candy dream!”

Kitty blushed and picked at the hem of her shirt glancing over at the dresses on the wall. All were black, each one progressively more revealing. The first one looked like a dress out of an old earth book with the asymmetrical hemline and heart-shaped neckline. Then there was a floor length dress with a peek-a-boo cutout at the belly and a long slit up one side of the flowing skirt. The last one was draped over the hanger in a way that obscured the dress.

“I have them in other colors, don’t worry,” Roxie came up behind Kitty, “I know Del, he’ll be in an all black suit piece with a red accent because the boy doesn’t wear anything else, so I pulled black dresses to start.”

“What’s popular right now?” Kitty asked while she looked over the dresses, “New Homestead doesn’t really keep up with the latest fashions and Del said something about Neon being another beast all together.”

“Let’s start with what you’re comfortable with and then we can talk trends,” Roxie turned Kitty and started looking her over, “you’ve got a curvy frame, lots of fun to be had there. How modest are you? Is this how you usually dress?”

“I…kind of?” Kitty looked over her own clothes, “I’ve never dressed for more than function really. Back in New Homestead we were always working on something when we were in classes, always needed to be ready to get dirty so there wasn’t much room for fun pieces. And since leaving I’ve worked a mining job, a brief stint as an explorer, and now a deputy. And the latest job comes with a set uniform most days.”

Roxie ticked her tongue and shook her head, “You and I are going to need to go shopping, palomita. But you must have some clothes that aren’t destined for grime and filth? What are they like?”

“I have this pastel pink cardigan I love,” Kitty said with a bashful smile, “oversized and soft, Del says it looks like a cloud. I’d like to wear more colors but again, most of the work I do gets them dirty.”

“So you like oversized sweaters, how do you style what’s underneath?” Roxie stepped back and glanced over the dresses, “high necklines or something more…flirty?”

[snarky-bee]

ren-NA-ta!!! my babygirl murderess. Night, Informal, Bling (with the specific cavat that I want to know if she has any future piercings or tattoos planned, in addition to getting the overview of what she's already got), and Change

My favourite Antivan crow who cares so much about clothes and looks.

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

Basically a simple linen nightdress of varying lengths depending on if it's summer or winter (which will be full sleeves, floor length and so many blankets on top)

informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

Renata and lazy day do not go together. She wakes up early makes coffee and gets dressed first thing in the morning. The only approximation of a chill look would be the midday siesta time of summer where she'll go pantsless and probably a light silk tunic

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

You know the answer to this but yes okay so double piercings on both lobes of her ears with gold rings, a nose piercing with a gold ring, a belly button piercing also gold, gold nipple piercings because her gf convinced her it would be fun when they were 16, and then a birthday present clitoral hood piercing because she a freak like that. And since you mentioned tattoos for this: She has a series of poison flowers tattoos starting from her left hand up her arm hemlock and wolfsbane so far. And then a fox masquerade mask on her sternum below her breasts with vines of roses stretching out along the underboob area as an ode to her lover Aristide who wore a fox mask to their masquerade job. And then she has a ribcage tattoo on one side of her House Calabria insignia.

Probably she'll get more ear piercings because she actually hasn't gotten anything in her cartilage and she would love some of those dangly chains from the top of her ear to her lobe. Tattoos she only plans to keep add more flowers to make a full sleeve.

The only jewelry she owns with specific meaning is a gold and pearl string necklace with an emerald green gem (not real emerald lol) that her beau Aristide stole for her and she kept it for months even after they broke up for several months 🥺

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

The biggest change was Renata getting real money for her first big Crow jobs and getting to purchase some nice tailored clothes: blouses and embroidered tunics and the like. It's only expanded over the last couple years.

Tattoos for sure. Renata loves getting control over her own body like that, and marking her assassination jobs with various poison flowers gives her a lot of pride.

Really it's all from her pride and sense of self importance. Look good feel good!

[seokjinsonlyone]

if one of the members hit u up on social media somehow n y’all get serious, would u drop everything and move to korea to be with them?

without a moment of hesitation as soon as they say "do u want -" i'm already 6 hours into the plane ride like for any member the answer is yes i'm madly in love wit da whole crew but now i wanna play this scenario out

also i'm doing this under the assumption that this is post enlistment like i'm not moving to korea just for my man to be gone for 2 years 😭 like i'd wait for them no DOUBT but i'll wait in america with my family in the comfort of my own home 😌

okay so for jk i'd move but we could NOT live together like we got to learn to love each other in person bc lemme tell u he'd piss me off and i'd annoy him so bad if we lived together off the jump like i have a morning job so being up at 1-5 in the morning singing and cooking and is not the move and then look i'm a fan of ambience i am but a bad bith got depression i got to have the lights on or else i'd never do anything skskksdk so since i'd be living alone i'd def need to have a job so idk what energy i'd have left for him LOL like it'd require a lot of adjustments on both our parts bc we is both weird and oddly particular all in all either he'd have to love me a whole lot to make us work or i think the sex would keep us together for a good 3-4 months before he realizes it's not worth it but i would stay in korea for at least a year like i could nOt show my face back in america any sooner than that. (side note: i think if i let him provide for me we'd be super compatible tbh but then we'd be more like besties instead of bf gf) approximate success rate: 46%

oh lawd wit tae i'd have to battle with the dog like i think we could live together but me and tannie would be mortal enemies he’d be my sworn nemesis like straight up dr doofenshmirtz and perry the platypus the way we’d be at each other’s throats bc all he gotta do is turn his neck backwards and hit me wit dat judgmental glare one time and i’m ready to square up but tae seems like the type fall in love very hard so if he’s asking me to move to korea for him he’s willing to make it work and frfr all i gotta do is take yeontan out on a walk one good time he gon get tired bout halfway through and then look for me to hold him and that'll settle most of our differences we may not be best friends but we'll have come to an understanding then all that's left to do is work on tae like get him to get the dog off his mouth off the table and out the kitchen and it's smooth sailing fr i feel like he'd alternate between being super clingy and kinda distant which would be a little frustrating a little irritating but we could cope like if we could just get through that adjustment period it'd be fine. approximate success rate: 72%

if i was with joonie i think the most source of contention would be over decoration like y'all know me and u know them ugly little couch pillows would have to be the first thing to go LOL but after that like okay i wouldn't try to take over but i would just need a space for me that feels like my own that i belong there not just be amongst one of his hyperfixations y'know? like he just has so much art in his place we would need to edit it down so i wouldn't feel like i'm constantly living in an exhibition paint the walls get some more plants bring some life into the place but other than that i think me and joonie would get along really well like we would probably nag at each other about little habits that irritate us but i can't foresee anything being too serious approximate success rate: 84%

hobi's another one i feel like i couldn't live with immediately LOL like i would 100% irk his nerves jfslsls he'd be nagging me to put my clothes in the hamper, put them away, stop leaving stuff around, etc. bc like i'm soooo good at keeping common areas clean not a problem but my room? i'm just always in such a mad dash to get to the bed that i just be leaving stuff anywhere be rushing like my bed gon get up and run away if i'm not in it within 30 seconds of entering the room so it do be junky and also i'm a go with the flow person and imma be ready to take a nap and hobi gonna pop up with some furniture polish and a swiffer talking about it's dusting day and imma lose it like we just need some time before we take that step sklfksd but other than that our relationship would be perfect?? like he's end game for sure we would eventually move in together and live happily after approximate success rate: 87%

my precious baby seokjin lawd i love and miss him so much need him expeditiously oh god missing seokjin hours just hit bc i'm thinking about how perfect he would be for me 😭 like moving in general is a lot but moving to a whole nother country is something else entirely and i think he'd just be so kind and thoughtful about the whole thing like i feel like he'd already have me a room in his place cleared out??? and would just give me a whole lot of space to just exist like helping me unpack and decorate however i like however long it takes not crowding around me when i'm overwhelmed letting me invade his space when i'm feeling clingy cooking me meals like he just seems like he'd try his very very best to make sure i'm comfortable and having fun the entire time like i'm sorry this is just my man and we're meant to be <333 approximate success rate: 95%

jimin is so caring and so sweet and i love that about him but that might be the thing that drive me up the wall like his care might just be a little overbearing for me and like i’d be his girl he tryna make sure i’m straight but if i say i’m good i’m good even if i’m not like imma need a minute and he not gonna wanna give it to me gonna wanna talk about everything all the time but imma need time to process everything before talking about anything and he might not get that at first so there would be some tension but after we’re able to align my introversion with his extroversion everything would be great and i think he’d accept my mess and i’d accept his and then we would get tired of being messy and push each other to be better i also can see a lot of cuddling and watching youtube on tv approximate success rate: 78%

finally there’s yoongi my twin flame <333 with him we'd probably already have a discussion about living together simply bc it's more convenient and economical to do so but the relationship...... it's like we might as well have not met online LOL like it'll be soooo awkward at first like it's gon take 3-4 weeks to really warm up to each other in person like he'll cook me breakfast and then when i sit down to eat with him he just not gonna look me in the eyes and i'll just be trying my best to be quiet and out of the way trying not to be seen or heard so he won't throw me away and then literally just one day it'll click we'll be like what are we doing and why and then all of a sudden we kissing cuddling he's taking me to his studio arm wrapped around my waist like we gonna go from being acquaintances to having old married couple vibes overnight and honestly i'm here for that comfort and familiarity the only thing i can see being a problem is that ion like to initiate conflict like if u start it imma finish but i ain't throwing the first punch but he seems to be more mature than me in that aspect so as long as he helps me to keep a line of communication open i can't see a reason why we would ever break up approximate success rate: 93%

sorry for using ur question as a catalyst for my delusion

[atieflingtime]

GAME: A Fool’s Errand by Mike Free

DESCRIPTION: “You are the jester in King Lyrics’ court. Through mere observation you discovered a conspiracy threatening their rule. You now have the fruitless task of warning their majesty.”

ITEMS NEEDED: A deck of playing cards (jokers included)

THOUGHTS: I read the rules wrong! I used both the number and suit of the same card to determine the petitioner, rather than drawing one card for the kind of petitioner and a second one for their relation to the conspiracy.

My mistake didn’t wind up taking enjoyment out of the game at all (which is a plus in my books!) since it also means it didn’t rely on everything being followed exactly. The only thing is I had to adjust to not getting repeat petitioners, but that’s because of my mistake rather than anything in the actual game haha and it still worked out well imo

It was pretty interesting to play through a situation where your goal is futile — like no matter how much your jester character desperately wants to warn the king about the conspiracy, they are destined to ultimately fail.

Perhaps having some reference to what sort of timeframe in-game we’re playing under? I think that’s really the only thing that could be a tweak, but tbh ain’t ABSOLUTELY needed since players can decide how long time is between petitioners. I kinda threw myself off since I didn’t make myself any time indicators in my own text-playthru but I intended it to be seen as taking place over several years!

I think I played for about 3 hours? Definitely could have gone on for longer but my shuffling put my two joker cards only one card apart lol

Also I’ll be entirely honest I don’t know anything about jesters or courts but I had a lot of fun :P

unedited playthru is under the readmore (:

The King: (8 of diamonds) A prophesied demi-god Goal of the conspiracy: (Queen of hearts) eradicate loyalty to the king

The King is prophesied to be a demi-god, half-seeded from the god of the sun. There’s a conspiracy brewing to eradicate loyalty to the king — people whispering he’s no sun god’s son.

The Jester is a rather rude man. The sharp smile combined with a foxed face makes even the kind words he says, however infrequent, sound rude and disingenuous.

FIRST PETITIONER: 3 of Clubs A merchant asking for a permit to sell wine; unaware of the conspiracy

I could hear the merchant approach before he rounded the corner to walk through the archways of the hearing hall. He was already fat and jingled with the coins in his coin purses. His strides were clipped and unconfident, and the etching of uncertainty showed in the flush of his face. This wasn’t anything I hadn’t watched happen before. People are funny when in the presence of others they think are above them.

Watching his flushed face as he spoke to the court of the god-king — I didn’t realise anyone could costume themselves to look like they had berries smeared across their nose and cheeks so thoroughly without ever touching the fruit — it seemed just pedestrian petitioning for a permit. The maroon of his clothes stitched in greens and yellows didn’t look familiar, and there was no other families in the area with royal ambitions that had that particular stitching colouring that I could recall. And I would be able to, if there were.

After the rambling, disorganised, and frankly extraneous request was ended with the merchant’s voice petering out, my god-king looked to me and gave me a nod. The beginning bell of my performance.

In a fluid motion, I got to my feet and removed the heavy winter weight cloak I’d left sat beside me. Fashioning it around me in a crude approximation of the size of the merchant, I bound to the court’s floor making deliberate movements to the bells on my wrists with my footfalls. Jingle your coin at me, and I will jingle back. It means nothing to me.

A wide arc of my arms out hold them as far apart as I was able, punctuating the movement with a flick of my wrists to make the bells tink. “Oh dear, glorious, illustrious, golden god-king of whichever other descriptors my father of name Orszak before me told me to call you to flatter you.”

Small stifled chuckles rippled through a few of the court attendants.

“I wish to request permission to drink my wine-wares inside of the city walls for coin!” An over exaggerated sway as I stood, “pardon me, I want to sell the wine I am unable to drink myself to the fair peoples of your inner city.” I jingled my wrist-bells again, tugged at the lapels of my overcoat. “We produce it ourselves; Orszak family name is proud. My father was the businessman, I’m merely inheriting his routes.”

Glancing over to the Merchant, his large grey eyes were fixed to the floor.

I postured my hands out, palms up but not supplicating like a beggar, my back kept farm-straight. “My father and elder brother, Tomasz Orszak, were only recently unfound through their route. An injured and scared ass only what we’ve found so far.” My nod was slow, and could easily be mistaken for a theatrical over-exaggerated motion, but my unwavering eye contact with the god-king let him know my personal answer. “I am the second-son and thought always my future was in the fields.”

The second eldest Orszak merchant rubbed a wrist, one of his meaty hands covering over the pulse point and lightly wiping the crooked and dirt-marred thumb of his rubbing his skin. Nerves from a fish out of water. Or a farmer without a field, I guess.

The god-king raised one of his slender, gilded hands. I straightened and stood as motionless as I was able. The courtiers sounded like they were holding their breath.

“You are approved for you and your foodwares to be sold inside the inner city,” the god-king’s voice was smooth and tinny, “I ask for your family to write a formal request with your situation, in addition to sending one of your ilk to acquire the permit.”

The merchant visibly sagged in relief — all the tension pulling his spine tight leaving in an instant. He thanked the god-king in a thick and clumsy country term, and left quickly.

I knew the look in the god-king’s eyes was saying to me that I was took harsh in my initial portrayal. That’s fine. He’s allowed to be wrong about things as interpretive as art. Though that certainly wouldn’t be an opinion I’d ever let taste oxygen.

SECOND PETITIONER: 9 of Diamonds A doctor needs subjects for research ; a neutral party in the conspiracy

Doctors always had a particular stench that seemed to follow them. Maybe death, but more likely just a miasma of sickness. This one was different from the rest. They stood rod-straight, but their shoulders rounded forward to create an odd gathering of fabric draping over their chest cavity. When told to remove any of their garb, they refused. A curiously higher-than-expected voice carried muffled from the beak-mask of the doctor. I decided not to include that peculiarity in my performance.

Not being able to see the doctor’s face made my job more challenging, but when the god-king gave his nod, I had no choice but to perform.

They were aware of the conspiracy for treason — I could tell that much — but it seemed they weren’t swayed to either way. Doctors were hard to convince into the kingdom, and seldom lasted very long. I wasn’t about to dissuade this one from continuing.

I stood as tall as I was able, jutting my chest out instead of caving it in like the doctor was. There must be a reason they’re keeping that posture, and I was not going to draw attention to it with my performance. “”Regardless of any situations that arrive,” I tried my best approximation of their accent, eating my Rs and pushing the sides of my tongue to my teeth, “matters of the body still need to be investigated.”

Arching my arms to hold my palms up to the gilded ceiling, a position of higher pleading. “These subjects of research will help future generations of the sun-god’s kingdom.”

Eye contact. Slow nod.

Approval.

THIRD PETITIONER: 3 of Diamonds A merchant asking for a permit ; neutral party to the conspiracy.

Immediately, I didn’t like how this merchant walked into the court. He looked too at-ease and comfortable.

His ashy straw-coloured hair laid in a thick plait twisted around itself and pinned against the back of his neck. Impossibly intricate embroidery made the previously soft felt-fabric stiff and likely itchy. Stabbing storm-silver in jagged patterns through the cobalt sky of his coats. A brilliant red waist-apron secured with a thick blue cord weighted at the ends with metalcrafts spilled down his lap like a bloody waterfall.

The nod.

“God-King,” I tried to force my voice to have the same tenor as the petitioner, “even as I stand here asking for permits to continue growing my hoard of silver, I speak to you as one powerful man to another.” I glanced to the merchant, his dark eyes glowering at me from where he stood. “Do you not deign to meet me on the same level? Truly it isn’t so far down?”

A murmur of light shock and gossip rustled through the rest of the court.

“These goods are merely the work of others, but I know I’m among compatriots when it comes to building things off others.” The merchants face was flushing in anger. I locked eyes with the god-king, and lolled my head side to side in a ‘no’ while speaking, “There’s few differences, yes?”

Denial of the petition. The merchant spat at me when he left. I’d fear I’ve made more enemies than allies in my time here but I don’t particularly care either way. When the god-king dies, I’ll still be alive.

FIFTH PETITIONER: 4 of Hearts A famous musician hoping to be commissioned ; loyal to the king.

If the clang of brass and the hollow noises sounding when she rounded a corner too closely weren’t enough of a tip-off, then her poufed hat with feathers and filigree certainly took out the guesswork.

She hoped to be commissioned for at least one ballad extolling the virtues and benefits of the god-king and his kingdom. From the rolling of her silver ring, however, I believe she was hoping to be taken on as a resident artist. Those kinds of silver rings were made by hand only for those who you loved.

Nod. Expectations or my performance.

I took a supplicants posture. “Would you not want someone so deeply in love to write and sing about the beauty inside the fair kingdom of the god-king?” A jingle of my wrist-bells and I dramatically gripped my abdomen. “For one to give you and your subjects the love I have felt inside my heart and soon to grow in my belly?”

Wide-faced fear and surprise jolted through on the musician’s face, her lips sticking out just a bit as she ground her teeth to try and keep the expression from pulling any noises from her throat.

Eye contact to the god-king. “Merely exchange my talents to the god-king in return to consistent work and stable housestays for me and mine.” I nod to him.

The musician glossy eyes nearly overflowed when the god-king said she will be held for contract, and her own may also live in one of the sites in the inner city.

FIRST JOKER DRAWN

My words were quick and plain. “There’s a conspiracy whispered through the inner city and the fields outside it.” I stood straight, shoulders far more relaxed than I felt. There was far more than whispers snaking their way through the ears of the god-king’s spheres of influence. Even the more loyal subjects of his were wavering in their faiths.

I’m not wholly surprised.

The god-king has been taking less and less interest in the common subject — preferring to dote on emissaries from surrounding kingdoms, boldly to the detriment of the people that keep him safe.

“If there’s more than a whisper, then that’s when we will simply order them buried,” the god-king’s voice disgusts me for the first time. It sounds greased from the pheasant poached in butter he’d eaten with the jewel-dripping emissaries from the southwestern country lining the border.

I nodded. I couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Leave if there’s nothing interesting to come out of you, then.”

I did as I was told.

SIXTH PETITIONER: 10 of Spades A diplomat attempting to establish a new trade agreement ; part of the conspiracy

The diplomats were certainly a sight to behold.

The main speaker out of the pair of them was tall and glinting with the sheer amount of filigree inlaid to the layers of cloth draped so delicatly in dizzying amounts. I couldn’t make sense of when a swath of fabric ended and another started, or if they were just metres-long sheets of finery folded in meticulous ways. Her hair hung heavy over her back near-below her shoulderblades, with the ends of it somehow tied and pinned under so the shown length was only half the true amount. It was covered with constellations of filigree pins inlaid with precious stones.

Her companion was a man in similar stature to her. His foxed face reminded me of my own, though his eyes were rimmed with a purposeful soot, and his mouth was less scarred from teeth. The same dizzying swaths of fabric made up his clothing, though his seemed less imbued with threaded metal since it didn’t glimmer the same way as the speaker’s did. There was a heavy overcoat of fabric placed over his shoulders, splitting somewhere under his long hair from the single pane down his back, to two tails down either side of his neck. The leather belt holding it tight to his waist almost looked out of place, but it clinked and glittered with chatelaines full of golden curiosities.

“A new trade agreement needs to be worked out,” the Speaker’s voice was clear and decisive. “Your kingdom is left wanting.”

The god-king sat with glazed over eyes — bored before any conversation had ever started. This was exactly why the conspiracy has been able to grow like wildfire. Apathy was oxygen to its fire.

I watched the man, beautiful and glinting, move his rough hands over to an empty spot on his belt. Probably habit from having a sword or other weapon hung there for longer than it rested elsewhere. “I implore you to listen to the Speaker,” is voice held less presence than the Speaker’s, but it was oaky and I wanted to hear more.

A moment of pause before the god-king waved his hand dismissively and turned to me. “Perform. Now.” His eyes slid off me as soon as the word was spat out.

I ground my teeth. I didn’t expect to be treated as even partly an equal, but I never would have though the king I served to the detriment of my life milestones to not even look at me as he spat commands.

Rising from my seat — downgraded severely from my previous spot near the court’s seats, to a threadbare pillow on the chilled floor with the petitioners — I exhaled and dropped my shoulders. Trying to relax my jaw and prevent soreness from grinding my teeth. I stood straight and unwavering, feet squared and arms bent lightly out at the elbows with my palms down. I can feel the metal in my over-cloak bite me in the ribs.

“I implore you to listen to the Speaker,” I repeated the man’s lovely oaky words in my own thistled voice. A deep, measured breath shook its way out of my throat. I repeated the Speaker’s words with as much clarity as I could lend my own voice. “Your kingdom is left wanting.”

SECOND JOKER The conspiracy is successful ; game finish.

I threw knife.

Gods don’t bleed, and neither do their offspring. The former king proved to be neither.

[cheesybadgers]

It felt like I waited approximately 84 years to see Strange Way of Life on the big screen, but tonight was finally the night!

My ramblings under the cut:

I know it's the nature of a short film, but I like my burn slow and wanted more at a slower pace, damnit lol. Loved the atmosphere of the whole thing, the music, the costumes and set details (like the artwork in their houses), and of course, the chemistry between Silva and Jake (and getting to see Pedro as the more emotionally vulnerable character for a change). Not to mention, the use of some classic tropes (and personal favourites of mine, I have to say) like sharing clothes and tending to wounds.

Two main things that bugged me though: Why have them literally spell out their memory of the wine scene before we see it in a flashback? A subtle line hinting at what was to come would have made the flashback scene much more impactful. When you already have such limited running time, why waste some of it showing and telling the same thing?

And sort of linked on from the above, I didn't really care for Almodóvar giving us a blow-by-blow account of what happens next in the Q&A. Not just because it wasn't the more hopeful ending I personally would have liked to see (if you're gonna subvert the genre and apparently be something of a response to Brokeback Mountain, go all the way, damnit), but because a short film is supposed to leave a lot unsaid. Especially in a film in which a lot is left unsaid between the two lovers.

That last shot of them looking out at the horses should mean whatever the audience want it to mean. I appreciate Almodóvar was probably asked the question a lot, and he's obviously a passionate and wordy man (and allowed to talk about the vision he has for his own work, of course) lol, but it was strange to me that something which was subtle in some ways (like the eroticism in the suggestive rather than the explicit) was also heavy-handed in others.

It was interesting Almodóvar talked about The Power of the Dog too. Because, actually, one of my criticisms of that (the film at least, I haven't read the book) was it became more about a murder plot than all the repressed homosexuality and toxic masculinity. And I found that boring tbh lol. I wanted more of the latter. Strange Way of Life managed to weave in a murder plot but keep Silva/Jake at the centre of the story in a much more effective way and in a much shorter space of time than The Power of the Dog.

Overall, though, I enjoyed it and it was so good to finally see this in a cinema (I realised it was the first time I've seen Pedro on the big screen as well, seen as WW came out in pandemic times and I gave TUWOMT a miss) ❤️

[amrv-5]

💔,🎉,😬,🧐,🥺 !

Hello hello hello!!!! Thank you for the ask!!!!!!!! sorry as with the rest this got. Long. Below the cut for length and some spoilers for (already published) chapters of S2G2:::

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

I'd say a tie between Moved on Memory, my M*A*S*H fic where Hawkeye becomes literally (?) haunted by iterations of his past self, and S2G2 with a specific eye towards chapter 4 (Hawkeye runs away), and chapter 15 (BJ sits outside the bar). Augh. Just. I got a little misty-eyed writing BOTH of those chapters and I'm really not a crier. So emotionally intense and deals with such personal, and I think to many people relatable, feelings and situations--isolation, helplessness, despair, loneliness, anger at yourself and a past you can't escape, etc. etc. Heartbreaking, but like, a good, cathartic heartbreak. I don't think I'm capable of writing something that wouldn't break for the better, if that makes sense.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

This is a fascinating question. I think I tend to write for myself more than for an audience (hence why so much of my fic is Patently Fucking Bizarro Weird), so I think I consider a fic a success when I have fun with it and like it. If it makes me Feel Something, that's a success. I aspire abstractly to the idea of "literary" fiction, but also that's pretentious bullshit and I just like getting Weird With It mostly. Audience definitely has a little influence on it of course--I was very scared S2G2 would be a flop w/readers just because I spent just a stupid amount of time and effort on it and I want people to Talk To Me About It So Bad. So Bad. But on the other hand, I'd consider my Clerks (1994) fic Nearly Lost You There to be a success despite capping at like 200 hits because I had a bunch of fun with it, and I think it did what I wanted it to do!!!

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

Okay well the real answer is any one of the approximately ten fics I've written anonymously throughout various fandoms (3 in MASH lol). they're on anon for a Reason, whether it's Concept Too Stupid and Self Indulgent to Own Up to Writing or just NSFW I didn't want the pressure of linking to my account, those guys r the main answer. Out of the fics currently not on anon, I think that the only possible answer is the queer reading I did of Judas. Yes, that Judas. Bible Judas. What can I say, I've got a minor obsession with guilt, narratives of blame, doomed characters, and historically vilified figures.

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Yes!!! I read a few books on 1950s queer movements before diving into Somewhere to Get To, talked to a couple Korean and 'Nam vets I'm acquainted with re: draft stuff, and skimmed a couple books on histories of the Korean War and 1940s-50s culture in general. I also transiently researched stuff to make sure things like cars, clothes, setting, subway tokens, etc. were as close to verifiably accurate as possible. Sometimes I intentionally violate the timeline--I slipped an Auden poem into S2G2 that technically wouldn't be published until 3-4 years after the scene, but I really wanted it in, and so it went in. Same timeline slippage for a joke about the Mets BJ makes in Moved on Memory. I'm sure I also unintentionally violate the timeline plenty, too.

Maybe the most extensive and probably weird research I do for MASH -- and CW for discussion of surgery, I guess, in case that's icky for anyone -- is on anatomy and surgery. It's important for me to feel like the inside of BJ and Hawkeye's heads are steeped in years of medical training and practice, so I do (sorry) watch example training videos of surgeries that I describe to make sure they're accurate and 'feel' at least relatively real from the surgical point of view. I also have BJ and Hawkeye both think in scientific and medical metaphors more often than I think most characters would: in S2G2, BJ and Hawkeye both compare emotional pain to a sternotomy, and BJ has an extended sequence in which he imagines his life as a dynamical system and proximity to Hawkeye as a strange attractor, for instance.

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Absofuckinglutely, and you can tell 'cause I write 'em over and over again. There's almost always a moment in all my fics where somebody is loved for all they are. That moment of 'I love you, no caveats' is such an emotional heavy-hitter for me. Central conceit of all my romance writing basically. To be Seen and Loved Regardless...wow...

I'm also a sucker for characters taking care of other characters. Like, looking after each other. Food, rest, a hug, whatever. Fucks me UPPPPP!!! Any fics where one character dotes on another in any way is my bread and butter. Just caught on to the fact I'm so transparent about this being a central theme in my romance writing when I realized more than half of the chapters of S2G2 prominently feature a scene where somebody cooks for or thinks about feeding someone else. When you add in brings blanket to / hugs / etc., it's basically every chapter. Essentially everything in all my Romance Scenes boils down to little acts of caretaking because These Scenes Melt Me Into A Tiny Puddle.

[swirlyspark]

Tagged by @neurob-ug ! :3

thank u!! :D

☆ Favourite color: some specific shades of light yellow and teal! also like a lot of others! ☆ How long have you been on tumblr? Since 2017 approximately- idk where to check it ☆ A place you’ve always wanted to travel to: probably Japan- also america to go to cons mostly. ☆ Favorite clothing brand: what are brands!? well probably morningwitch- the button down shirts rule! ☆ Favorite singer/band: Cavetown and Ricky montgomery are some of my faves but also a lot of varied stuff ☆ Your current phone lockscreen: my bf lol ☆ Most recent/current hyperfixation? Sky- Children of the light,, but I wouldnt call it a hyperfixation exactly- ☆ Relationship status: taken! only looking for friends, tho I dont feel like being around people atm ☆ Your dream job: tattoo artist! or open my own art business- anything with art really! I would also be okay with working in a lab tho if it doesnt work out... ☆ Do u have pets? Yes! ☆ Outside of tumblr, favorite social app: I guess instagram- tho recently Im a bit tired of it ☆ If you do have pets, what kind/how many? I have a cat at my mother's place, his name is Lou. Also my bf's cats Emil and Lucy (they are my cats too cause I say so). ☆ Tea or coffee? both! ☆ Favorite ice cream flavor? uhh no idea- cookies and cream maybe ☆ Tag at least three other tumblr accounts: no! @toastedphantom and everyone else who wants to do it!

[uhhhhmanda]

15 questions, 15 people

I was tagged by @fr-wiwiw! I was sure I had done this one but I can't find it on my blog so I probably did what I usually do, which is to agonize over every answer and then delete it halfway through, lol. So let's try again!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yes! Spock's mother! Thank you, dad, for loving Star Trek and convincing my mom not to name me Kelsey Dawn.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Hold on, let me check my watchlist. I don't cry a lot (an interesting change that has happened in the last 10 years or so) but I know I just cried recently when I was watching a drama or a movie ... Ah! It was You Are My Secret, the cdrama.

3. Do you have kids?

No. My husband and I agree wholeheartedly on no human children. We've got two dogs and a cat that I'm way too attached to, though.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I have made a concerted effort to cut back. Now it's mostly just in texts to my husband.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Depends on the person and the situation. Sometimes height, sometimes hair, sometimes clothes. If they are talking it might be a cool accent or interesting word choice or voice. Everyone is interesting in their own way.

6. What's your eye colour?

Hazel!

7. Scary movie or happy ending?

I love horror, so oth is ideal, but if I can't have happy I will take scary over sad. A sad ending can drag me down for a long time after a movie/show/book, but a scary one is fun to keep thinking about.

8. Any special talents?

Understanding thick accents (which is wild because I have auditory processing issues -- if you speak perfect English you are harder for me to understand than if you have an accent that a TV station would caption. the human brain is mysterious af).

9. Where were you born?

In a small town an hour north of Seattle, WA.

10. What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, drawing, cooking, photography, watching Asian dramas. Once in a blue moon I post a vlog.

11. Do you have pets?

I have two dogs who are both approximately the same percetage of pit bull and german shepherd (they aren't related, we got dna tests) but their genes expressed in opposite directions, so Geordi looks like a pointy pit bull and Pepper looks like a short-haired GSD. We also have a weird cat named John Enwistle who overgrooms himself so that he looks like he's wearing a little bolero jacket or a crop top.

12. What sports do you/have you played?

I wanted to try soccer when I was little because one of my brothers was a soccer player. But no one told me the rules? Ever? And also mom wouldn't let me quit the team when it turned out that I fucking hated being watched by everyone's parents? So I spent the entire season standing on the corner of the field ignoring everything. Kind of a formative experience. It's on my Mention To Therapist list for when I finally can afford therapy.

13. How tall are you?

5'5"

14. Favourite subject in high school?

English.

15. Dream job?

I would love to make money off my art but I'd have to uhhhhh MAKE SOME ART to do that but I've got dysfunctional executives. Other things I'd love to do for money: forensic document examiner, architect, or book indexer.

I think everyone I want to see answer this has been tagged, but if you want to play PLEASE DO!