#leading to her premature death

[beckybloomwood]

ooc sitcom twitter account asked the most tragic sitcom character and all the answers are solid but elaine from soap is the only answer. it's just they don't know her but she would sweep if it was a modern show.

#dead mother when she was a baby #dead sister when she was a teen #jerk father who told his teen daughter the other one should have lived and she should have died #same jerk father who married her off as a debt payment #the cut her off financially after the wedding cause he finally got rid of her #and refused to pay her ransom when she got kidnapped even tho he's loaded #leading to her premature death #a girl who only knew true happiness and love and family for 2 months and then died

[hollyhomburg]

Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

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Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

#bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts polyamory au #bts au #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #min yoongi fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #knj #kth #ksj #jhs #jung hoseok fic #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Imagine yandere sebastian with a witch darling whos physical appearence is desired by all, she’s kind, very funny but closed off. and she has 3 cats that love her very much. I feel like he would fold lowkey.

Yandere Sebastian Michaelis x Witch Reader with Cats

You’re right he would 

Ciel comes to your residence upon reference

Looking for your expertise in objects bordering the supernatural

Only for the ‘one-eyed’ young master to sneeze himself out of your shop

“Sorry, darling my cats practically rule this property. It’s probably best you don’t come lest your allergies lead to premature death.”

“Fear not, for I will happily represent my master in his investigation. Now, is this fellow on your shoulder a Maine Coone?”

“Oh, he is! Would you like to hold him?” 

“I’d be honored!” 

You two click right away 

As avid cat lovers, Sebastian always joins you when you coo about your kittens

But aside from your love for cats, he’s bewitched 

Your beauty both inside and out unknowingly stokes the fire of his love

And when he loves he loves hard

He makes sure you know it

He refuses to pull back on his flirting 

“This is a resilient type of mineral that would fetch a high price on the black market…It also is a dazzling complement to (Y/n)’s eyes.”

“Oh uh, thanks?” “Sebastian.”

“Would you like this on a ring?”

“Sebastian!” 

“Apologies young master, let's continue.”

While he doesn’t hesitate to sing his praises and desires for you

He also doesn’t keep his more demonic tendencies silent either

Much to everyone’s detriment 

“Your bluntness is appalling for a noble of your stature. And I’d advise you to refrain from such vulgarity in the future…that is if you value your life.” 

Forget about anyone trying to destroy you because he’s pursuing you (Grell)

He knows who they are and as the Phantomhive butler its in his nature to be proactive about possible threats

“Now now die quietly; I can’t have my beloved witch be afraid to reciprocate my love because of you.”

#yandere sebastian michaelis #yandere sebastian x reader #yandere sebastian michaelis x reader #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere black butler sebastian #yandere black butler x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere #yanderes #yandere demon butler

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Been spending my time lately thinking of a House MD au where, through a series of accidents and lies and a bet he didn't rly intend to win, House ends up as a registered foster parent (he's still addicted to Vicodin and his normal dickish workaholic self but for some reason he cleared the requirements and trust me he's as stunned and mildly concerned as everyone else is).

Through further Shenanigans™, he ends up accidentally getting handed fostership of not one, not two, but three hellish but brilliant kids:

1. This total smartass 16 year old named Robert Chase who yeah he's a bitchy teenaged boy and a former rich kid and Australian with enough mommy and daddy issues to reawaken Freud after his dad dipped and absconded all parental rights and his mom drank herself to death, but he's also got a nice car left over from his rich kid days and an eye for detail and weirdly enough his best friend/mortal enemy (some other teen named Eric Foreman) and his on again off again girlfriend (Allison Cameron, totally won't last if u ask House) both work at the hospital as a candy striper and after school in the cafeteria respectively so House can get all the inside gossip from Chase. Plus Chase has no problems breaking and entering into patient's homes which helps bc since he's not employed by the hospital Cuddy can't complain as far as House is concerned.

2. A 14 year old girl who only answers to Thirteen (House knows he could look her name up in her file but honestly it drives Chase nuts that she won't tell him her real name and that's good enough for him) and who's dad was declared unfit after the death of his wife to Huntington's devastated him. She's a total nightmare, snarky and quick witted and freakishly smart even tho she puts most of those smarts towards things like shaving Chase's entire head (eyebrows included) bc he's trying to grow a sucky teenage mustache, and trying to take House's wallet bc she keeps calling him Old Man and he informed her he's actually only 25 but the stress of fostering has aged him prematurely and she's like 95% sure that's a lie but she wants to check his license and make sure bc everyone lies. She loves tormenting Chase by telling him his best friend and/or his girlfriend is hot and asking if they're single.

And 3. This 6 year old boy named Lawrence Kutner who's weirdly cheerful considering his parents got killed in front of him. He's way too chatty and excellent at puzzles and the only morning person in the entire house and therefore frequently tries to make breakfast (he likes to be helpful and he hasn't burned the place down yet so House doesn't feel the need to stop him). Once he told House he was gonna build a Death Star in the living room and House said lol sure go ahead whatever, only to return home from work to discover Kutner called himself out from school and has a huge wooden frame made of broken furniture in the living room. House rly can't argue since he did say go ahead. Benefits of fostering a 6 year old are 1. The babes love it, 2. Free excuse to leave work early/come in late/not show up at all, and 3. Justification for buying juice boxes and Ritz crackers. The neighbor kid Taub is his go to babysitter bc his mom volunteered him forcibly and Taub is lowkey praying that babysitting Kutner could lead to an in at Princeton Plainsboro once he graduates high-school and finishes medical school (it won't, House doesn't believe in nepotism unless it benefits him).

The adventures of House and his Foster Ducklings mostly revolve around being a Found Family, but do involve frequent plots such as:

House fired his brand new fellows again (he tosses em every three or so months, he hasn't found The Right Team yet) and will sometimes bring his foster kids in, hand em doctors coats, and tell patients that they're just a bunch of medical savants here to consult yes even the 6 year old he's actually Harvard's youngest graduate ever.

House sends the kids to break into a patient's home. They refuse. House tells them the first one to find black mold or lead paint or a dead animal or whatever gets $20. They agree. Chase drops Thirteen and Kutner off at a bus stop across town and drives over himself so he can get an hour and a half head start (ultimate fuck them kids moment, however Thirteen did steal his wallet so guess who's paying for lunch and their taxi ride to the patient's house? Net loss.)

Cuddy demands House does his clinic hours. House sends his foster kids to do his clinic hours for him. Tfw you go to the free walk in clinic for a sore throat and a cough and your doctor is a 6 year old boy who keeps asking for help with spelling whilst filling out your chart.

Wilson babysits them one (1) time since House doesn't trust Chase not to throw a party or sell his foster siblings on eBay if left as the one in charge. He wakes up with a big strip of hair poorly bleached right down the middle. Chase crushed up stolen sleeping pills and mixed them into a juice box, which Kutner 'innocently' offered to Wilson. Thirteen was going to bleach and dye his whole head blue (for practice, she wants to dye her hair but she's certainly not gonna fuck up her own hair until she has the method down) but Wilson woke up pretty quickly due to years of House drugging him. Wilson has not offered to babysit again.

Anyways this is my House Foster Ducklings au which I'm thinking about actually writing. Thank u 🫡

#house md #greg house #robert chase #remy hadley #lawrence kutner #i just think Chase and Thirteen and Kutner are the most House's Actual Kids out of all the fellows #give that man three incredibly smart self reliant kids with issues™ #i do imagine a plot where House does overdose of vicodin #and the kids find him #and they're in the hospital #and House has to contend with the fact that he either has to give the kids up to better homes #or make smarter choices bc it's unfair of him to be overdosing and almost dying when he has three traumatized kids relying on him #love when there's some middle aged guy whos like 'no im not a dad' but has a gaggle of kids following him around #feel free to message me about this au

[hadesisqueer]

All past Avatars seem to have at least one fuckup or a regret that one or more of their next lives will have to deal with.

Szeto, quite literally, worked for the Fire Lord of his time. Although his work brought peace and prosperity to the Fire Nation, ending the conflicts that were destroying the islands, it also caused a centralization of the administration that would later allow Fire Lord Zoryu and his descendants to centralize all the power, which would end up leading to Sozin and the Hundred Year War. Since he seemed to prioritize the Fire Nation, he most likely neglected the rest of the world, too, which means that Yangchen had to step up more for international issues.

Yangchen was a highly revered Avatar to the point that she was deified; she helped the nations progress and flourish. However, focusing too much on human matters and always favoring humans, she neglected spirits. That led to Kuruk having to deal with the consequences.

Kuruk, unlike Yangchen, focused too much on Spirit World issues—to the point that it cost him his life and died very young—, seemingly neglecting human issues, causing the Peace of Yangchen's era to deteriorate very quickly. His premature death and apparent neglect led to Kyoshi having to deal with a very unstable world.

Kyoshi managed to stabilize the world during her extremely long life—in contrast to Kuruk's short life—and is remembered as a highly effective and respected Avatar. However, her big mistake and regret was the creation of the Dai Li, which would later help with the Conspiracy of Ba Sing Se, help Azula conquer the city or start kidnapping the new airbenders: overall, give Aang and Korra headaches.

Roku enjoyed relative stability at first after Kyoshi's death, though this didn't last that long; he lived through a industrial revolution and the rise of nationalism in more than one nation. He was a very diplomatic Avatar who managed to stop a war between the Northern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom, and became a respected Avatar. However, he was indecisive when it came to stopping his former friend Sozin, which was probably the biggest mistake and regret: it led to the genocide of a whole nation and a war that lasted a hundred years, leaving Aang to deal with it.

Aang ended the Hundred Year War and helped create a new nation where people from everywhere could leave peacefully. However, by letting Yakone live and escape prison, and failing to fully give nonbenders a voice in Republic City, caused Korra a lot of headaches with Amon and the equalists. Furthermore, another one of his biggest regrets was running away before the Air Nomad Genocide (although it was not really his fault, he was a child and an untrained Avatar and had he stayed, he probably wouldn't have been able to avoid it: he would have probably died too or been captured), and his biggest wish was to rebuild the Air Nation one day, which Korra did during her life, making up for what he thought was his biggest mistake.

Korra will probably have one of those mistakes/regrets too, and I really wonder what it'll be. We know it likely won't be neglect of neither spirituality or human issues like Yangchen or Kuruk, since she seems pretty focused on both. So far her biggest regret seems to be losing the ability to make contact with her past lives, so maybe it'll be that? The next Avatar will somehow manage to regain their connection with the rest of the past Avatars? Doesn't seem likely to me but idk. Or maybe more Red Lotus bullshit, since in the show they said that there were probably more members and Korra didn't stop them all? Idk

#avatar the last airbender #the legend of korra #kyoshi novels #avatar szeto #avatar yangchen #avatar kuruk #avatar kyoshi #avatar roku #avatar aang #avatar korra #atla

[thatswhywelovegermany]

Frau Gauden

In the German region of the Prignitz, Frau Gauden (Mrs. Gauden) is the leader of the Wild Hunt. She leads this army of supernatural hunters together with her 24 dog-shaped daughters.

The Wild Hunt, also known as the Wild Army or the Wild Ride, is the German name for a folk tale widespread in many parts of Europe, particularly in the north, which usually refers to a group of supernatural hunters who hunt across the sky. The sighting of the Wild Hunt has different consequences depending on the region. On the one hand, it is considered a harbinger of disasters such as wars, droughts or illnesses, but it may also refer to the death of anyone who witnesses it. There are also versions in which witnesses become part of the hunt or the souls of sleeping people are dragged along to take part in the hunt. The term “Wild Hunt” was coined based on Jacob Grimm’s German Mythology (1835).

The phenomenon, which has significantly different regional manifestations, is known in Scandinavia as Odensjakt (“Odin's Hunt”), Oskorei, Aaskereia or Åsgårdsrei (“the Asgardian Train”, “Journey to Asgard”) and is closely linked to the Yule season here. The reference to Wotin/Odin in the name Wüetisheer (with numerous variations) is also clear in the Alemannic and Swabian dialects; In the Alps, people also speak of the Ridge Train. In England the train is called the Wild Hunt, in France it is called Mesnie Hellequin, Fantastic Hunt, Hunt in the Air, or Wild Hunt. Even in the French-speaking part of Canada, the Wild Hunt is known under the term Chasse-galerie. In Italian, the phenomenon is referred to as caccia selvaggia or caccia morta.

The Wild Army or the Wild Hunt takes to the skies particularly in the period between Christmas and Epiphany (the Rough Nights), but Carnival, Corporal Lent and even Good Friday also appear as dates.

Christian dates have superseded the pagan dates, which see the Wild Hunt moving, especially during the Rough Nights. This period of time is assumed to be originally between the winter solstice, i.e. December 21st and, twelve nights later, January 2nd. In European customs, however, since Roman antiquity, people have usually counted from December 25th (Christmas) to January 6th (High New Year).

The ghostly procession races through the air with a terrible clatter of screams, hoots, howls, wails, groans and moans. But sometimes a lovely music can be heard, which is usually taken as a good omen; otherwise the Wild Hunt announces bad times.

Men, women and children take part in the procession, mostly those who have met a premature, violent or unfortunate death. The train consists of the souls of people who died “before their time”, that is, caused by circumstances that occurred before natural death in old age. Legend has it that people who look at the train are pulled along and then have to move along for years until they are freed. Animals, especially horses and dogs, also come along.

In general, the Wild Hunt is not hostile to humans, but it is advisable to prostrate yourself or lock yourself in the house and pray. Whoever provokes or mocks the army will inevitably suffer harm, and whoever deliberately looks out of the window, gaping at the army will have his head swell so much that he cannot pull it back into the house.

The first written records of the Wild Hunt come from early medieval times, when pagan traditions were still alive. In 1091, a Normannic priest named Gauchelin wrote about the phenomenon, describing a giant man with a club leading warriors, priests, women and dwarfs, among them deseased acquaintances. Later references appear throughout the High and Late Middle Ages.

#mythical creatures in germany

[optimizche]

Missing (Part 3) [Aemond Targaryen x Reader]

Warning: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON 1 EPISODE 10. Be careful!!!! And please comment with your feedback! ❤️

"I couldn't possibly-" you said, shaking your head violently, an incredulous smile on your lips. "I will burn to death."

"You must, sweet one," Jacaerys implored, the Lords gathered around the Painted Table nodding solemnly.

It was then that you turned to Prince Daemon. "I have no Valyrian blood in me, My Prince. How could I possibly even hope to bond with a dragon? Let alone ride it into battle?"

Threat of the looming war was now closer than ever.

Ever since Princess Rhaenys had flown to Dragonstone on Meleys, bringing the news of the death of King Viserys The Peaceful and the crowning of Aegon instead of the rightful, named heir, Princess Rhaenyra, chaos had erupted.

Queen Alicent and her Green Council had successfully managed to usurp the Iron Throne.

Ser Erryk had arrived to Dragonstone mere hours after Princess Rhaenys, carrying with him King Viserys' crown, the same crown Prince Daemon had placed on The Black Queen Princess Rhaenyra's head during her coronation, days after Aegon's coronation at King's Landing.

The House of the Dragon was now officially divided, ready to tear itself apart in the midst of war.

During the discussion around the Painted Table this morning at dawn, the topic of adding more dragons and dragonriders to the Black faction had arose.

Princess Rhaenyra had Syrax, Prince Daemon had Caraxes. Princess Rhaenys had Meleys while her two granddaughters, Rhaena and Baela had Morning and Moondancer respectively. Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey were bonded to Vermax, Arrax and Tyraxes respectively.

This brought the number of dragons on the side of the Blacks to an impressive eight.

The Greens, Queen Alicent's party only had three dragons for her three children, Sunfyre, Dreamfyre and Vhagar each bonded to Aegon, Helaena and Aemond respectively.

Even though the Blacks vastly outnumbered the Greens in terms of dragons, Prince Daemon and the young princes Jacaerys and Lucerys were adamant that more dragonriders were needed on our side.

You yourself had been a witness to Prince Daemon awakening Vermithor, a dragon once ridden by King Jaehaerys I Targaryen.

"We need more dragons with us, little one," Prince Daemon urged, the anger at his wife being robbed of her crown palpable in his temper. "You must try to bond with one of the dragons here at Dragonstone."

Jace and Luke spoke up in your support, trying to bolster your courage. "We won't let anything happen to you."

But it was when you looked at Queen Rhaenyra, who had just suffered a miscarriage of the daughter she carried, Visenya, you found your own resolve hardening.

It was the news of Aegon's coronation that had sent The Black Queen into an early labour. Far too early, leading to considerable blood loss and the birth of a stillborn baby girl, Visenya.

While your healing powers had restored the health of the Queen and brought her to her feet, she was stricken with grief over the loss of her sixth child and only daughter. Just a few days ago, you shuddered at the memory of how the Queen had wept and cursed as she bled during her premature labours. The tragedy had shaken all of you to the core.

You knew you had to bind yourself to a dragon, even if it killed you, for the sake of the Queen.

--------

Your years of studying and training in combat had done nothing to prepare you for this moment, as you stood within one of the largest pits of Dragonstone, staring up at the beast that slumbered before you.

A female dragon, the size of a mountain, she had scales of lavender interlaced with aquamarine.

"She's… formidable," you chuckled nervously, glancing at Prince Daemon, Jace and Luke, who stood on the sidelines, nodding encouragingly along with the dragonkeepers.

Steeling yourself, you slowly approached the dragon, reaching out tentatively with your palm.

"Dohaerās!" you called out, your voice echoing in the cave, awakening the she-dragon who looked at your comparitively miniscule figure with aqua coloured eyes.

"Dohaerās!" repeating the command with a determination in your voice that impressed you, given how much anxiety was gnawing away at you.

The dragon huffed, it's breath washing over your face as it raised its head.

Please don't open your mouth, you silently begged. Please don't burn me.

"Lykirī!"

Sensing the dragon's uneasiness, you attempted to calm it, but you knew that it wasn't listening to you. One wrong move and you'd be burnt till even your bones disintegrated. But you were desperate to bond with the dragon. You didn't want to disappoint the Queen when she needed you the most.

You stepped even closer to the dragon, right in front of it and all of a sudden, it opened its mouth, letting out the most thunderous roar that shook you to your bones.

"Dohaerās!" you commanded, yet again, undeterred.

"Stand your ground, little one," came Prince Daemon's advice. "Be firm."

Taking a deep breath, you kept your eyes focused on the dragon's.

"Dohaerās!" you cried out, your own voice echoing in the cave, almost as fierce as the dragon's roar.

The silence following your cry rang through your ears and you were certain that at the very next moment, you'd be burned alive by the irritated dragon.

You closed your eyes, bracing for the worst…

Instead, you felt the nudge of the dragon's head against your still outstretched palm.

"Gods be good, you've done it," Prince Daemon exhaled.

You opened your eyes to see the she-dragon bowing its head before you, a wild and unrestrained smile breaking across your face.

You had bonded with a dragon.

"Mount her!" Jacaerys shouted, rushing to his own dragon, Vermax.

"Fly with us!" Lucerys urged, already climbing Arrax.

Suddenly emboldened, you found yourself climbing swiftly up the dragon's back, patting it encouragingly as you gave it the High Valyrian command to fly. "Sōvēs!"

Laughing, Prince Daemon clapped his hands, moving aside as your dragon now rushed toward the exit to the cave, breaking all her chains in the process.

"What will you name her?" he asked between chuckles.

"I'll call her Aquerion!" you screamed back as the dragon spread its lavender aquamarine wings, ready to fly.

Perhaps your ancestry did contain a drop of Valyrian blood after all, you thought, exhilarated by the wind in your hair as you flew skyward, Arrax and Vermax flanking Aquerion on either side.

----------

While you spent your subsequent days training and honing your dragon riding skills with Jace, Luke, Rhaena and Baela, the Black Council made a decision to send envoys to the various powerful houses of Westeros, hoping that they'd swear themselves to Queen Rhaenyra's cause.

A raven came to Dragonstone, containing a message from one of Prince Daemon's spies in King's Landing that Prince Aemond had flown on Vhagar to Storm's End to secure House Baratheon.

This elicited a roar of laughter considering that Lord Borros Baratheon was a cousin of Princess Rhaenys and a staunch supporter of King Viserys. There was no chance that he would ally himself with the Greens, you were told. He was certainly going to support Queen Rhaenyra's cause, you were told.

You weren't so convinced, knowing full well that Borros Baratheon had four unmarried daughters. A betrothal to the new King's own brother could easily sway House Baratheon over to the Greens. And given that the Greens were not above usurping the Iron Throne from its rightful heir, you knew they were now capable of anything to secure their position in the approaching war.

As much as the idea of Aemond marrying a Baratheon girl perturbed you, you were even more disturbed when it was decided that Lucerys would fly to Storm's End as an envoy of Queen Rhaenyra.

Alone.

"My Queen," you begged the night before the morning of Lucerys' departure. "Please let me accompany Luke to Storm's End. He might need me."

Over the course of the years you had come to think of Lucerys as your little brother. Naturally, you had grown very protective of him.

"There will be no need for that, my dear," Queen Rhaenyra said, waving off your suggestion. "Luke is certain to receive a warm welcome at Storm's End. House Baratheon favours Princess Rhaenys and us."

"But, My Queen, Aemond will be there," you insisted in urgent but hushed tones. "He has no love for Jace, Joffrey and especially Luke since the incident at Driftmark."

"Dearest, are you questioning my decisions now?" she asked you, a brow raised.

You were suddenly flustered. "Of course not, My Queen, I was merely concerned about-"

"Lucerys will be fine, dear," she said, giving your hand a squeeze. "He is eager to prove himself and I've made him swear to the Seven that there will be no fighting on his end with that Aemond."

You bowed your head, agreeing reluctantly to her decision, an inexplicable sense of dread overcoming you.

The very next morning as soon as dawn broke, all of you assembled in the Great Hall to say goodbye to Lucerys.

"Don't fret, little one," Prince Daemon remarked, noting your concern. "Lucerys will be fine."

"Of course!" the boy said, hugging you tightly and giving you a bright smile before moving on to hug his mother.

As much as you wanted to believe it, something in your heart made you quite unsure, leaving you feeling unsettled as you watched Lucerys take to the skies on Arrax's back.

--------

Hours had passed with no word from any raven of Lucerys safely reaching Storm's End. He had promised you and Jacaerys that he would send a raven as soon has he landed at the Baratheon stronghold.

Prince Daemon had watched your mounting anxiety, noting how you did not indulge in even one of your favourite sweetcakes at breakfast that morning.

Jacaerys could tell by how distracted you were during your morning lessons with Maester Gerardys that you were still apprehensive about Luke. You paced restlessly through the hall while Jace studied High Valyrian with the Maester, before running to consult the great almanac that sat open on the stone table nearby.

"It predicts a cruel storm at Storm's End today," you read, murmuring more to yourself than to anyone else. "Gods, Luke…"

While you were almost sure that Lucerys could deal with Aemond well enough by himself as he had already done during that night at Driftmark, you knew that Aemond and a storm made for a rather difficult combination to navigate for little Luke.

"Maester, may I be excused? I'm feeling quite unwell," you said, placing a hand on your stomach to feign a stomach ache.

Jace eyed you with suspicion, not believing your excuse for a single moment but letting you leave nevertheless.

You rushed headlong down the corridors, making your way down to the basement of the building.

The armoury, I need a weapon, you thought, a plan already formulating itself in your head as clear as day.

Sneaking into the armoury, you found a vast array of blades. Swords, daggers, spears, bows and arrows. All fashioned from either Valyrian steel or Dragonglass.

You picked a sword you knew you would be able to wield, along with a couple of Dragonglass daggers.

Prince Daemon is out searching for more dragon eggs, you thought to yourself, running toward the dragonpit before quickly changing from your gown to your riding leathers. Queen Rhaenyra is abed, resting. Princess Rhaenys is tending to Rhaena and Baela…

You found Aquerion waiting for you, the gorgeous she-dragon having already anticipated your arrival with the sound of your footsteps. Perhaps you had gotten more close to your dragon than you ever realized.

Climbing up on her back, you mounted the supple leather saddle, grasping the reins in your gloved hands, looking around for any dragonkeepers guarding her nearby. There were none present.

"Sōvēs, Aquerion!" you commanded, your voice confident and crystal clear.

As you leaned down to pat your dragon as it charged toward the entrance of the pit, you knew that you needed to get to Storm's End and quick.

--------

Aquerion, being a mighty dragon had large, well-built wings, the wingspan almost double the size of her body.

She carried you swiftly up the sky and within a few hours of flying, if the change in landscape was any suggestion, you were nearing Storm's End.

It had begun to drizzle, the clouds growing thicker and more grey the closer you flew to your destination, a thin mist permeating the air. Hampering your visibility.

Wiping a stray lock of wet hair away from your face, you silently prayed that you'd reach your destination safely.

Gods, I only hope that Lucerys is alright…

You flew straight into the eye of the storm where the wind was whipping at you, the rain coming down thick and merciless. Drenching you to the bone through your riding outfit.

You were flying right above a ravine when a blast of fire cut through the storm.

Dragonfire.

Heartbeat rising tenfold, you turned Aquerion in the direction of the fire only to find a small dragon being violently pursued by a giant one.

Arrax and Vhagar.

Despite the rain and the mist, your eyesight allowed you to make out the silhouettes of their dragonriders, Lucerys and Aemond.

"There is a debt to be paid, boy!" Aemond bellowed, chuckling ruthlessly as he pursued Luke.

"Lucerys!" you cried out for the Prince, seeing him turn to see you and Aquerion approaching from the right.

Queen Rhaenyra's son shouted your name in palpable relief, seeing your much larger dragon arrive in the middle of the chase.

"Dracarys, Aquerion!" you commanded, aiming her dragonfire at Vhagar in an attempt to distract Aemond. "Fly away, Luke!"

Your dragonfire hit Vhagar's wing, a pained screech emitted by the old dragon almost shaking you to the marrow.

On Vhagar's back, Aemond looked bewildered, looking hard through the rain and fog to see who it was who had dared to attack him.

When he spotted you on Aquerion's back, for a moment in time, Aemond looked shell-shocked.

"Dracarys!" you roared yet again, sending more dragonfire at Vhagar, aiming at her head this time as you charged head-on at her with Aquerion.

Over your shoulder, you looked to see Lucerys staring at you with worriment etched on his face, even as Arrax safely carried him out and away from Vhagar's reach, to Dragonstone.

He was safe, you thought, the ghost of a smile gracing your own face as you became distracted for a fraction of a second…

All of a sudden, it felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs, your dragon, Aquerion colliding with Vhagar.

The momentum of the push was powerful enough to send both dragons plummeting toward the ground, their roars echoing in the skies. You clutched desperately at her reins to prevent yourself from being knocked off the saddle, bracing yourself for the impact at the top of a cliff.

Vhagar fell first, with a screech, Aquerion falling a few yards away from the other dragon with a pitiful whine.

For a moment, it felt like the world itself had been plunged into darkness, unconsciousness tugging at your senses, trying to pull you under to keep you sheltered from the immense pain you felt.

A broken arm for sure. Perhaps a few broken ribs?

You fell from the back of your dragon, collapsing to the ground before hesitantly raising a hand to your abdomen, feeling blood weep from a wound there.

It almost felt like a rush of energy, when you heard footsteps approaching you, making you rise shakily to your feet as you raised your sword.

"You would dare to raise a sword against me? Your childhood friend?" Aemond asked, his own sword now unsheathed, as he stood before you, bleeding from a gash on his head.

"You would dare to attempt to slay your own kin? Your own nephew?" you asked in retaliation, stepping forward, sword raised, should he attack, a hand pressing into the wound in your abdomen.

There was no chance in seven Hells that you'd survive a swordfight against Aemond Targaryen. But you weren't going to perish without a fight.

"I see you ride a dragon now," he said, nodding toward Aquerion where the poor beast lay in pain. Recovering from the fall.

"Which Baratheon girl did you betroth yourself to?" you taunted.

It was this that sent Aemond charging at you, your swords clanging as you held the blade up to defend yourself against his every swing.

Matching his reflexes as best as you could.

"Oh, wait," you sneered, between offensive blows of your own, blows that he dodged with ease. "You've been too occupied with your sister to take someone else to wife-"

With a roar, Aemond slashed violently at you, the blade of his sword cutting into the wrist of your dominant hand. Disarming you as your fingers let go of the sword from the sudden pain.

You cried out as he pushed you onto the ground with astounding force, straddling you with his sword now at your neck. The blade pressing into the column of your bare throat.

"Kill me," you urged him, the pain in your heart far greater than the pain from any wound you had suffered. "Kill me and be done with me."

Aemond looked pained, wrenching the patch away from his eye to reveal the sapphire underneath it. To show you who he really was.

"Do you truly think I would kill you?" he asked, aghast from your words. "Do you truly think so low of me?"

"You only ever needed me around to heal your wounds, to heal your eye. I was nothing more to you than my abilities," you said, your heart breaking at the pain you felt, your own eyes burning with tears.

How had years of friendship and affection come down to this?

Hearing him growl, you felt the blade vanish from at your neck as he threw his own sword to the side, his gloved hands finding your face.

"You were my best friend. The best part of my life," he said. "I loved Helaena but I loved you more, you fool."

He pressed his forehead against yours, a single tear from his own eye falling on your cheek.

"You were my solace, the only one who ever gave me true peace. When you left, I lost a part of who I was," he said and you felt your eyelids fluttering, your strength seemingly abandoning you with every drop of blood that gushed from your abdomen. "When will you ever understand this?"

Tears now felt freely from your eyes as you whimpered quietly, a sudden relief filling you at his words. For how many years had you ached to hear them?

You felt his own chest wrack with sobs, raising your bloodstained hand to touch his cheek underneath his scar. Mixing your blood with his, flowing from his head.

"You're hurt…" he said, placing his palm over your hand, his eye examining the huge bloodstain on your waist, terrified.

"But your children? With Helaena?" you asked, struggling to keep your eyes open.

He opened his mouth to speak but your mind tuned out the words he said, too exhausted and fraught to stay awake.

Seconds later, your world turned black.

Part 4

#angst #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond x helaena #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x helaena targaryen

[hyuuukais]

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

warnings ☆ food mention, swearing

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS

☆partially written, 9 screenshots☆

CHAPTER FOURTY ☆ LUCKY

Felix is waiting for you downstairs. He's all bundled up, and you can't help but giggle at how adorable he looks. Once he hears you, he looks up, breaking out into a smile. It felt warm like the sun, bright and glowing; it felt like home.

And maybe that's when you realize it- Felix has become your home, your safe space. You've never been so in love. Picturing a life without him... you can't, truly. It's like he's always been there, and in a way, he has. You grew up watching his videos, dreaming of the day you'd meet, not believing it would actually happen. Now?

Now, you're so in love with him it hurts.

"Lixie!" His cheeks tinge pink at the nickname. "I'm so excited for tonight! I don't know what we're even doing, but I really don't care as long as it's with you."

"God, I love you," he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walk out the door.

The cold air hits you, causing you to shiver. You made the mistake of not wearing a jacket, figuring it wasn't that cold today, forgetting it got colder at night. Not wanting Felix to notice, you suppress the urge to shiver more, cuddling into his side instead.

"It's not a long drive," he says, opening the passenger door for you. "The heat is on in case you're cold."

You nod, stepping into the warmth. He gets in the driver's side, only taking off when you're both secured in. The drive really isn't long, like he said, only ten minutes.

"Close your eyes, we're almost there!" Felix says excitedly. "I want it to be a surprise!"

"Okaaay," you reply, closing your eyes, eyebrows raised slightly. "When do I get to know what's happening?"

You hear him open and close his door right as you asked, you own door opening a few seconds later. Cold air swoops in, right down your back.

"Once we're inside, love."

Felix takes your hands, guiding you down an icy path. Another door opens and you step through, immediately warming up. Hands rub up and down your arms before leading you further into the mysterious building. Stepping into another room, the temperature change almost causes you to open your eyes prematurely.

"Okay... you can open your eyes." You can hear the smile in his voice, and the nervousness.

Opening your eyes, you gasp. You're standing on the edge of an indoor ice rink, the only source of light being the fairy lights decorating the edge. On the bench to your left sits two pairs of skates. You look at Felix, jaw dropped.

"No one's coming for the rest of the night. It'll be just us," Felix shifts from one foot to the other. "Do... do you like it? I know you wanted to learn to skate, and Kai mentioned to me once how much you love fairy lights so I thought-"

"Felix!" You throw your arms around him, startling him. "This is beautiful! Ahhh, let's get on the ice!"

After getting the skates on, you stumble onto the ice, a death grip on Felix's right arm. You glide clumsily into the middle, stopping to look at your partner only to find he's already looking at you.

"You're always looking at me," you start, grabbing his other arm. "Whenever I look at you, you're there first. Sometimes I wonder if there's something on my face."

"Oh there's something on your face alright." You look at him funny and he laughs. "You know, eyes, mouth, nose..."

You scoff and hit him playfully, but lose your balance. As your legs fall away from under you, he's grabbing you, keeping you upright. It takes you a second to stand without slipping.

"Now that was embarrassing."

He laughs, a deep, warm laugh. Your heart skips a beat, and his hand is suddenly on your neck. You look at him with heart eyes, and he's leaning in, placing a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. When he pulls away, it's not far, eyes moving from your lips to your eyes. A hand sits on your waist, your own gripping his shoulders.

"Want to try going around the whole rink?" He talks low.

"After this," you say, leaning back in the a proper kiss. His lips are soft and loving; home.

☆

After what seems like hours of stumbling and falling, you manage to make one round around the ice upright and without holding onto anything. When you circle back to the open rink door, Felix scoops you up into a hug, lifting you off the floor congratulating you. Then, the two of you left, Felix announcing this was only the beginning of the date.

"Really?" You question him as he opens your car door. "Man you should have told me before... I'm too tired to do anything else now..."

You sigh dramatically, leaning your head back, eyes closed. When you get no response, you open one eye to glance over at Felix. He's looking away from you, biting his lip.

"Baby I'm joking!" You turn your body to face him, legs dangling out the car.

"I know," Felix's sad expression breaks when he looks at you smirking. "I can mess with you too, you know."

The two of you giggle as he lifts your legs back into the car, closing your door. This time, he drives for a while, to the outskirts of the city. Water is lit up by the moonlight, the river looking peaceful as ever.

Felix parks the car as close as he can to the water and he once again comes around to open your door. You step out, hand holding Felix's as he guides you to the open trunk. Inside are plush blankets, pillows, and a couple bags of candy.

"Stop it, this is so cute and cozy." You climb in, Felix close behind. From here, you have the perfect view of the stars and moon. "This is perfect."

He blushes at your choice of words, but you can't see, you're too enthralled with the night sky, and he's too enthralled in you. The way the light caresses your face, strands of hair blowing gently in the breeze, eyes lit up and mouth open just the slightest. Everything about you is beautiful, stunning, gorgeous. You're made of stardust, and he's lucky enough to lay his eyes upon your particles.

It's peaceful, just the two of you cuddled up in the back of the car, river splashing in the distance. You can see the stars so much better out here, you realize. At one point, the heat of the car isn't enough and you start shivering again, but Felix is quick to wrap his jacket around your shoulders and tuck you further into the blankets. You're practically falling asleep when Felix nudges you.

"Honey?" He kisses your temple, breathing in your scent. "I know you're enjoying this, and I am too, but its getting really late and we have somewhere else to go still."

"There's more?" You sit up, eyes wide.

"Yes," he laughs deeply again. "Come on now. Let's get going!"

☆

Next, you pull up in front of a small cafe. It looks closed, but in the very back you see a light on. For the third time that night, Felix opens your door and guides you, this time to the door of the cafe. He knocks loudly and you check the time on your phone. 1:08 am, surely nobody's here still. At this time?

But sure enough, an older man greets you at the door like an old friend. He sits you down at a table, saying he'll be right back with your order.

"Our order? We just got in though?"

"I made plans ahead of time," he says. "So everything would be ready by the time we got here."

Before you can reply, the owner is back with a covered dish. He places it on the table, lifting the cover to reveal the fluffiest strawberry cheesecake you've ever seen in your life. While you're busy staring, the owner has left and come back again, placing a strawberry milkshake with two straws in front of you.

"Shut up, this looks and smells delicious." You lick your lips, nearly drooling at the sight.

You watch as Felix cuts you a thick slice, then his own. The two of you eat in silence, savouring the flavours.

"This is the best thing I've ever eaten," you say, stuffing the last bite into your mouth.

When you finish, Felix pulls out a small pouch. He opens it, shaking it into his palm. Out comes a silver necklace with a red strawberry charm.

"Put it on me?" You say, voice barely above a whisper.

And so he does, gently.

The owner had put the rest into a to go box for you, taking the empty milkshake glass away. You both thanked him before leaving, finally heading home.

You stop outside of Felix's house.

"There's one more part."

And for the last time that night, Felix opens your car door and leads you up the steps to the house. He unlocks the door quickly, allowing you to step inside first. The temperature of the house quickly heats you, and you strip off Felix's jacket. Upon entering the house, you see a familiar set of pyjamas folded on a small table to your left; the same ones Felix had bought you for your fake first date.

"Go change," Felix speaks from behind you.

☆

You come back to see Felix in his matching pjs, just like before. And like before, there's a giant pillow and blanket fort in place of a living room. You tug Felix's hand, your turn to guide him down into the blankets.

"Before we settle, I have something for you." Somehow, you were able to smuggle the package into the house without him noticing, now handing it to him. "I wanted to try and make tonight special for you too."

"Anything is special with you," He replies with no hesitation, taking the package in his hands, fingers brushing yours.

Inside is a chicken plushie with a sun embroidered in dark gold thread on the chest. He pulls another out, matching his except for the colour and symbol. This one was pink, with a strawberry replacing the sun.

"You got us matching plushies...?"

You blush.

"I-If you don't like it that's okay-"

"No!" He clears his throat, lowering his voice. "No, I love this. Thank you, Y/N."

He looks at you with love in his eyes, passing you the pink chicken.

"Oh- actually this one is yours," you switch the plushies. "I thought it would be like having each other around when we can't be."

"Y/N..." Felix's heart swells. "That is the cutest thing in the world."

"Pretty sure you are, actually."

"No you-"

"Let's not start," you laugh, running a hand down your face. "We both know we'll go on for hours. Hours we could be spending watching the movies you picked out!"

"How did you know?" Felix leans back.

"This part is just like our first date, just, real this time."

"It was always real for me."

You stare at him, eyes flicking to his lips, then back to his eyes. Your hand finds his.

"Me too."

☆

The movies are over, and the sun is starting to rise. Your head is resting on Felix's chest, feeling the rise and fall off his breathing. His hand is in your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. He thinks you're asleep.

"Y/N... you look so peaceful right now," he starts. "I know you can't hear me... I don't know if I could say this to your face yet though, but, well-" He laughs at himself, failing to form a sentence. "I love you. So fucking much. Never expected you'd fall in love with me too, and I've never been so happy. With you, I never feel bad, only loved. I want you to know I'm here for you, I always will be, through it all. No matter how tough it gets, I'm here for you. This may be too soon but..."

He runs a hand through his hair, leaning his head against yours, nose pressed against the top of your head. This close, he can smell hints of your shampoo.

"Youre my forever." He chuckles lightly, tears forming in his eyes. "Ahh, I'm getting tired and sappy."

Holding you close, he sniffles, controlling his breathing as to not wake you. When he feels you shift, his breathing stops.

"You're..." you whisper softly, barely awake. "My forever too... wanna grow old with you... whack you with my cane for fun..."

Your words make him laugh and his grip on you grow tighter. You manage to stick your head up enough to feel his lips brush your cheek.

With just a slight movement, your lips find his, melting into the kiss. The hand in your hair stills, holding you in place as you find a rhythm. You sigh into the kiss, heart thumping loudly in your ears. Everytime feels like the first with Felix, and you want to scream. Emotion overwhelms you, happy tears in your eyes.

You fall asleep like this, limbs entagled. Two halves of a whole, the sun to your moon, the light in your dark. Nothing can tear you away from one another, not even the end of the world.

notes ☆ and just like that, it's over. thank you all for the love and support this fic has recieved 💙 it's overwhelming how much love i feel for this fic and the people i've met through it (in particular tachi 💗 and rain 🤎). it's a bittersweet feeling ending this. i don't even know how to put it into words how grateful i am. ofc, this won't be my only fic! a kind of sort of sneak peak to what i would like to create next is here. the taglist will be starting fresh, so lmk on that post if u wanna be added from the start! but anyway. even though it's sad this is ending, there's still so much to come. i love u all, and again, thank u so so much 💙

taglist ☆ @marcillfll @toplinelix @neri-ner @tfshouldidohere @imasimplol @samvagejkflxhrt @yennifersgeralt @aestheticsluut @evermourning @tenebrisirae @roseidol @veryjeongintxtkid @amara-mars @chrizzlaptop @bmnyy @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @ellelabelle @gini143 @mrsseals16 @veedoesntknaur @channiesstars @daydreamer5006 @luvvvash @amesification @skzswife @blamemef0rit @soulphoenix1618 @lovingmny @stvrfir3 @boo-ven9eance @adestayskz @rag-iii @enchantedgrunge @mytherapisttoldmenotto @strawberry-dreamland @oh-my-fancan @lucktales @cookielino @fantasyaddict123 @sleeplessmin @alexxxxxthebitxh @flirtyskzbutterfly @vixensss @hannahs-docx @hash2013 @lovestayforev @sserafimez @theblindhag @liknws @hannahhbahng

pink means i can't tag you

#✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES #skz #stray kids #skz smau #social media au #lee felix x reader #stray kids smau #lee felix #lee felix x fem reader #lee yongbok #non idol felix #non idol au #stray kids streamer au #felix streamer au #streamer au

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale II

Chapter Two

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn, blink and you'll miss it mention of eating disorder

Words: 5.1k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Sorry for the delay in posting, I just got back from vacation, so I'm hoping to get back to normal posting soon. THX x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

January 25th, 2005

Jasper had stood there for a moment, mind cluttered with thoughts as he tried to make sense of what he had just seen. He had been there completely by chance. Everything had happened so quickly yet almost in slow motion. He had heard the van speeding down the road. Had seen Alice’s face as the vision had played throughout her mind. Had heard Edward yell out in anguish as he saw what Alice had seen as she was seeing it. Next thing he knew, they were in the hospital, trying to warn Carlisle of what had happened. 

In truth, he was a bit angry with Edward. Not as much as Rosalie, but still angry non the less. He understood that it would’ve been bad for everyone in that situation if the van would’ve crushed her. The blood itself would’ve been a huge issue for himself. But Edward saved her and in turn had exposed them all to the girl. In the end, he hoped Edward wouldn’t come to regret his actions. He hoped that they wouldn’t have to give up this life that they had built for themselves in Forks prematurely.

The whole group had been caught up in hushed conversation with Carlisle that he hadn’t even noticed her until the door had shut behind her. Then, all of a sudden, she was there, standing just outside of Carlisle’s office, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Anxiety radiated from her as she quickly turned, averting her gaze and walked down the hall away from the group. Clearly he had seen something that she hadn’t wanted him to, but what, he wasn’t sure. 

He had a clue of what it could be, but he needed to make sure before he jumped to any conclusions. He needed to talk to Edward, but he knew he would have to wait. He also would have to leave the hospital soon. His concentration was beginning to waver, and as much as he tried to stay as far away from the patient rooms, he could still smell the fresh blood. Alice could see this in his face, so she grabbed his hand and drug his stiff body back out into the parking lot, deciding that the rest of the family would have to find their own way home.

Alice sat in the driver’s seat weaving and winding down the long road that lead to their home. “Are you going to stay silent the whole ride?” She asked, trying the break the tension. 

Jasper let out a huff of air. “Do you know?” He asked, referring to the situation with Camila. It was eating him alive, not knowing. He hadn’t been so stressed in years, and the possibilities running through his mind were burning their way through his brain.

She nodded hesitantly. “I’ve seen it. After she came out of Carlisle’s office I had a vision of it.” She said. 

He looked out of his window to the trees rushing past. He knew from the look on Alice’s face that he was right in his suspicions, and his heart ached with this realization. “She’s sick.” He said simply. Not a question, but a statement. It made sense. This was why she was in Carlisle’s office. That alone meant that it was bad. Most likely terminal.

Alice let out a heavy sigh, knowing that it would be of little use to hide the rest from him now “Leukemia.” She stated simply. It hurt her to see her brother in pain, but this pain was inevitable. She had seen everything play out, and there was no going back now.

The word had stabbed him right in the heart. Suddenly, every little detail made sense. The scent of her blood, the bruises on her arms, her confusing emotions. His head fell into his hands. “Fuck.” He said, mind reeling. Sure, he barely knew the girl, but knowing she was dying hurt, and he was vaguely aware that it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

Yes, he knew that she was only human, and even if she wanted to be friends, in the end she would leave and he would be left alone. But knowing she was dying was like he had been shot in the chest. He knew that there was no physical aliment that was causing it, but the pain in his heart felt so real in that moment.

He knew it would do little to help knowing, but he had to ask. “How long?” He murmured.

“Less than a year.” She answered stiffly, trying her best not to be too specific, not wanting to upset him further. “But that could change.” She said quickly. He looked up at her, hurt crossing his features. He knew that she didn’t mean it in a hurtful way, but he couldn’t bring himself to think of that future. He couldn’t hope for that. “I’ve seen that too. You loving her. Her loving you. It could work out, you know.” She reasoned.

Jasper scoffed frustratedly. The vampire next to him was his best friend. He would’ve thought that she would’ve known him better than that. “Alice. I’m not going to single handedly doom her to eternal damnation.” He said. It hurt immensely to think about that. To think about a future with her. He selfishly wanted that future, but he also knew that it wasn’t the easy way out for Camila. 

It would complicate everything for her, and he didn’t know if she would willingly make that gamble. She would lose her friends. Her family. Not only this, but she would have to live through knowing that they would mourn her death. Because that would be the only way. To let everyone think that she had died. So he shut that thought down, pushing that small glimpse of hope out of him mind.

——————

January 26th, 2005

Camila was thankful that Jasper had left by the time she had finished in the bathroom, relieved to avoid him for just a bit, to be able to figure out what she was going to tell him. In truth, she hadn’t come up with any excuses, and deep down she knew that she would end up begging him to keep her secret to himself by the end of it. 

Nerves settled in her chest as her mother’s mini van pulled up to the front of the school. Deep breaths. It would all be okay. She stepped out of the vehicle, sucking in a breath of cold air. As she made her way to the building, carefully avoiding the sheets of ice on the ground, all of a sudden, she felt a cold hand on the small of her back. Her feet slipped out from underneath her as the hand caught her mid fall.

She looked up, seeing the face of the one person she had been actively trying to avoid. Of course, just her luck. “Jesus. You scared me.” She said breathlessly.

Jasper looked at her, a playful smirk adorning his face. “Actually, my name is Jasper, darlin’.” He joked. There was that damn name again. That deep southern drawl that sent heat straight to her cheeks. 

Despite his joking, he was in a very serious mood. He was determined to have this conversation, not wanting to delay it any further. He had thought about it all night, and didn’t want to wait any longer. “Do you want to skip with me today?” He asked.

Camila looked over to him, anxious, but knowing that it was best to get this conversation over with and out of the way. She nodded lightly, allowing him to lead her back to his own car. 

They drove in silence, Camila looking out of the passenger window at the greenery blurring past. He had promised to go and buy her breakfast, wanting to ease her anxiety as much as he could. So they weaved their way through the small town to the only diner open at that time.

The tension was thick in the air between them as the car pulled in front of the small cafe. The anxiety radiating from her was beginning to put Jasper on edge as well, so as soon as the car was in park, he jumped out, rushing to her side to open the door for her. Silently, they made their way into the restaurant, sitting in at a small table in a far corner in attempts to find some sense of privacy.

They sat there for a moment, quiet, Camila fidgeting with her rings to distract herself. Jasper’s mind whirled with thoughts. He had so much time to think about what he would say to her, but now that she was sat there in front of him, he was lost for words. He didn’t know where to begin, so he decided to jump straight to the point. “So…” He trailed off awkwardly, Camila’s eyes refusing to meet his own. “You’re sick.” 

Camila finally looked up at him, her face void of any emotions. He had said it as a statement, not a question. She didn’t know if it was better of worse, him knowing already, but either way, he had figured it out and this was what she would be left to deal with. “It’s pretty pathetic. I couldn’t even keep that a secret for a week.” She said scoffing, looking down at her hands once again

Jasper’s eyebrows threaded together in confusion. “Why exactly did you want to keep that a secret?” He asked, trying to not be rude, but curiosity winning the fight.

Sadness began to spread from where she was seated, however, the blank expression remained. “People change when they know you’re dying.” She said simply, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I’m sick of the sympathy, because that’s all they’ll give me.” She said, her eyes dropping back to the pealing lamination of the cafe’s menu. 

“I just want a normal life. Nothing spectacular, just normal, but that clearly isn’t in the cards for me anymore. Given the lack of longevity of my life, why would I want to spend the small remainder of it smothered by the pity of others? That’s far from normal, it’s fucking suffocating.” She rambled sniffling slightly as she shook the thoughts from her head. 

She refused to cry in front of him. She didn’t want to cry anymore. “Sorry.” She muttered, knowing it wasn’t fair to pour all of that out to him. But he had asked, so it was okay, right?

He sat there for a moment, debating whether or not he should manipulate her emotions. He hated the sight of her upset. He hated feeling the pain that she was feeling. Knowing how things that other people had put her through had left her hurting so bad. “Well, your secret is safe with me… and my family I guess.”  He said.

She looked over to him, not convinced of his words. “I promise, okay?…Look, we have our own secrets and we know first hand how important is to keep them.” He reassured. He knew it probably wasn’t the wisest thing to elude to their supernatural tendencies, but he really didn’t care anymore. If she found out, she found out. It made it that much easier to give her the option to live later on. If you could even call it living. 

Camila didn’t care to focus on what their secret could possibly be in that moment. She only cared about his promise and the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks.” She muttered softly, looking deep into his amber eyes. 

Jasper smiled gently. “It was never my secret to tell, Darlin’.” He said.

She let out a groan, burring her face in her hands as heat began to creep up her neck. “You and that damn word.” She chided.

He laughed lightly. “What? You don’t like it?” He asked teasingly, knowing from looking at her bright red cheeks that she did in fact like it. He had been so distracted from her reaction to his words that he hadn’t even noticed the waitress that was walking over to their table until she was only a few steps away.  He looked up, giving a small smile to the woman before turning his attention back to the blushing girl in front of him. 

The woman cleared her throat. “What can I get for you two?” She asked politely, as the burn in his throat intensified from her close proximity.

Vaguely, he was aware of Camila speaking, giving her order to the woman. His focus was weaning as he tried to concentrate on controlling his thirst. Only when Camila called his name did he shake away his thoughts. “Sorry, what?” He asked.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” The woman asked lightly. 

Jasper gulped, thinking things through quickly. Did he want to even try to put up a front of portraying a human? Alice’s words rang through his head. ‘Less than a year.’ She had said.And he decided, fuck it. He would be his most authentic self, and she would find out in her own time. “Nothing for me, thanks.” He answered politely.

His eyes landed back on Camila as the waitress let them know that she would put in her order, her footsteps slowly fading away. “You’re not getting anything?” Camila asked expectantly, feeling a bit awkward that she would be the only one eating. 

He smiled at her, biting back the urge to tell her his normal lies. “I don’t really eat.” He said, his eyes meeting hers.

She nodded slowly, she of course understood. After being diagnosed she had lost the majority of her appetite, not looking forward to the nausea that would follow after a large meal. However, the look of mischief in his eyes said more. Like she was missing the point of his words. Like there was some kind of inside joke and she found herself sinking deeper and deeper into his eyes. Then it hit her. “Your eyes.” She said suddenly. “They’re really dark. They were almost gold before.” 

He clenched his jaw slightly, pushing himself to not look away from her. The waitress’ blood had no doubt caused his eyes to darken in hunger, and he hoped it wouldn’t scare her away. But still, he pushed on, knowing that the more truth that he offered her the faster she would piece the puzzle together. The more time they would have together. No hiding. “They do that.” He stated. 

Camila sent him a small smile. Yet again there was that little voice in the back of her head, telling her that there was something more to his words. But she wouldn’t question it. Not today. Not when she was too busy being relieved that he had promised to keep her secret. “Thanks for the food.” She said, smile still lingering on her lips.

Jasper couldn’t help but beam back at her, only hoping that the sight of his teeth wouldn’t scare her away like he knew that they should. “Of course, Darlin'. Need to make sure you’re fed.” He said, smirking slightly as he heard the sputtering of her heart at that ‘damn word’ again. Yeah she definitely liked it. “And I thought it may help with the mental distress of this whole conversation.” He admitted.

She bit her lip bashfully at his words. Here she was thinking that was so skilled at hiding her emotions when apparently she had been wearing them on her sleeve the entire time. “So it was that obvious, huh?”

He snickered lightly. “The crippling anxiety? Yeah. I guess I’m just good at reading people, you could say.” He smirked, looking down from her eyes momentarily as he shifted slightly in his seat. It was going to take some getting used to, being so open about himself around a human when he was used to being closed off completely.

“Like an empath.”

His eyes shot back up to her as his mind reeled at her words. He wasn’t sure if she was serious or joking, but either way, he knew it was okay. The end goal was for her to know, so there was no use in panicking at what she had said. He swallowed thickly, pushing a smile back on his face. “Yeah… exactly like that.” 

——————

Unfortunately, as much as she wished that she could spend the whole day alone with Jasper, Camila knew that they would have to return to the school as they would be taking a biology field trip during the second half of the day. After a few hours of hogging the small table all to themselves, laughing, smiling, and just overall enjoying each other’s company, they knew it was time to leave, so they reluctantly returned to the car. 

She hadn’t exactly realized how long they had been gone until they pulled into the school parking lot, seeing the two school busses already parked in front. Students swarmed the busses as they murmured excitedly. Not for the field trip itself, but for the opportunity to miss the rest of their classes for the day. Parking, Camila quickly stepped out of the vehicle, trying to ignore the stares of others around them as they realized the two had been together off campus just minutes before.

Jasper fell in stride by her side as they joined the rest of the group. “Make sure I get your permission slips.” Mr Molina yelled over the crowd of students, ushering them onto the buses. Glancing over and seeing Alice watching expectantly, Jasper lead Camila over to her, knowing that she had expected him to introduce her officially to the human.

“Camila, this is my sister. She wanted to meet you officially.” He said, slightly agitated that his time alone with her had come to an end. 

Alice smiled brightly at the girl. “Hi, I’m Alice.” She said cheerfully as she pulled the girl in for a hug. Camila tried to hold back her shock as she slowly lifted her arms to reciprocate her hug. She wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact the hug was actually quite nice, but still a bit unexpected. To Camila’s surprise, the girls skin held no warmth, the coolness contracting nicely with her feverish body.

Jasper rolled his eyes at his adopted sister. “Alice.” He chided, slightly annoyed the display in front of him. He knew he had nothing to worry about when it came to Alice, but it still made him oddly jealous. “You’re going to smother her.” He mumbled irritatedly. He of course knew what Alice was doing. She had no doubt seen what he had been not so subtly trying to hint at and this hug was her way of helping him. Showing off the lack of warmth in her touch would be just another clue to the puzzle.

The immortal girl pulled away from the embrace finally, blinding smile still present. “Don’t worry Jazz, I can already see we’re going to be great friends.” She said cheerfully. “Now I’m going to go grab a seat by Edward, I’ll see you two there.” She said sending the two a wink before rushing off onto the bus.

Jasper sighed, turning to face the frail girl next to him. “Sorry about her she gets a bit… excited.” He said.

“It’s okay, she’s cute.” Camila said, snickering lightly. She really didn’t mind, even if the whole situation still weirded her out a bit. Alice was clearly a very sweet and genuine person, and if she was willing to be her friend, even knowing that Camila would die sooner rather than later, she would gladly grasp at that opportunity. 

She had plenty of friends in the past leave her because of her illness. The happiness had been sucked out of their friendships, the only thing the were able to focus on being her cancer. They treated her as if she couldn’t enjoy what little bit of her life she had left just because she knew it was ending. She didn’t want the constant sympathy anymore, the constant sadness and if Alice was willing to put herself in that situation knowingly, she could tell that they would become great friends. 

Jasper smiled, feeling her happiness and comfort. He was glad to see that she hadn’t become overwhelmed, although he should’ve known better than to doubt Alice. He should’ve known that she would say the exact right words. She always did. The smile didn’t waver from his face as he lead Camila onto the bus.  

——————

January 28th, 2005

The end of Camila’s first week had finally arrived. Exhaustion began to set in, luck being in store as lunch had finally arrived. Camila sat there at her usual table, trying to muster the strength and appetite to eat her food that was beginning to grow cold. Twirling the thin strands of pasta around her fork, she brought the bite to mouth and began to chew the unsavory food. Grimacing slightly, she resisted the urge to spit the mushed up pasta out. She needed the nutrients, she knew this, but that didn’t make it any easier to actually eat the food. 

Looking up from her tray, her eyes connected with Jasper’s. He gave her a small wave, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. The two hadn’t talked much since the impromptu cafe trip a few days previous, having been busy with their classes. She had seen him in calculus, as usual, but of course as always, by the end of the school day she was worn out and just ready for sleep. 

“Camila?” A voice said, abruptly breaking her gaze away from those Amber eyes. She looked to the owner expectantly, waiting for them to continue. “La Push, baby. You in?” Eric asked.

Her eyebrows quirked in question, not at all understanding what he was getting at. She looked over to Bella wondering if she understood. She looked just as confused. “Should I know what that means?” Bella asked Camila.

She laughed lightly, glad to see that she wasn’t the only one confused. “Your guess is as good as mine.” She answered, looking back to the boy for an explanation. 

“La Push beach, down on the Quileute rez. We’re all going tomorrow afternoon. Big swell coming in.” Mike explained. 

Eric beamed a bright smile. “And I don’t just surf the internet.” He joked lamely. Camila snickered, shaking her head in shame at the joke. 

Jessica scoffed. “Eric, you stood up once. On a foam board.” She clarified, rolling her eyes. 

“There’s whale watching, too. Come with.” Angela said, trying to convince the two girls to accompany the group on their trip. 

Eric nudged Camila on the shoulder, smile unwavering. “La Push, baby.” He said again.

Bella let out a groan. “I’ll go if you stop saying that.” She bargained, laughing lightly.

Eric smiled in success, turning back to Camila. “What about you Cam?” He asked.

Camila lulled it over in her mind. She knew that it probably wasn’t the best idea to go, considering that it was the middle of the winter in Washington, and most likely, her parents wouldn’t let her go even if she wanted to. She shook her head, an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry, I should probably stay home. I’ve got a bunch of homework to finish.” She lied, trying her best to sound believable.

Eric’s smile dropped at her words, a frown replacing it. “Awww, can’t you just do your homework later?” He pushed. She shook her head in response, giving an apologetic smile, slightly annoyed that he wouldn’t just take no for an answer.

Lunch dragged on as she slowly ate away at her food. The daily trip to the cafeteria was like a blessing and curse, she had thought. While it was great to get a brief break from the physical and mental exertion of the day, it also made it that much harder to seem normal to everyone else around her. Any other time, she would push off eating, usually having the best luck with taking supplement pills and drinking protein shakes, those making her the least nauseas. However, she knew that would look odd to her new friends. If she stuck to only those options, it would be only a matter of time before they noticed something was up. With her luck, they would think she had an eating disorder or something.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. She pulled herself to a stand, as she grabbed her picked over food tray. She pushed her aching muscles forwards the cafeteria doors, dumping her tray into one of the awaiting trash cans when a tall dark silhouette rushed to her side. 

“Camila.” Tyler greeted, slinging an arm around her shoulders. The action caused pain to shoot down her spine and she had to bite her tongue in an attempt to stop herself from wincing. Tyler had made a point that week to be as friendly as possible, and even though more than just the pain of his action was making her uncomfortable, she didn’t want to come off rude. 

“Tyler.” She greeted back, trying her best to keep the grimace off of her face.  He was just being nice and friendly, that was all. 

“I was wondering.” He started, pausing for what she could only imagine was dramatic effect. “Prom?” He asked somewhat randomly, a wide grin spreading across his face. 

Camila’s mind reeled. Was that really how he was going to ask? She wouldn’t have said yes anyway, not being interested in going to prom at all, much less with Tyler Crowley, but that really was a terrible way of asking. She got along with him well, sure, but she didn’t want to date him. 

“Can’t.” She said, voice filled with fake regret. She tried to quickly come up with an excuse for her denial. She definitely couldn’t use homework again. “I… already have plans with someone. Not prom related.” She said awkwardly. 

The smile dropped from his face, disappointment replacing it, clear as day. “With who? You can’t reschedule? I mean it’s prom.” He tried to reason. 

Fuck. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Clearly, she wasn’t very good at coming up with excuses and clearly, these boys weren’t good at just taking no for an answer. A normal person would’ve just taken the rejection and left, but of course Tyler and Eric had to be persistent. She thought quickly of someone who she could explain the whole situation to the easiest. “Jasper. Do you know him?” She asked casually. Surely Jasper would understand why she had added him in on her scheme, especially since he had seemed so respectful in keeping her secret in tact previously. 

Tyler’s eyes widened slightly. “Jasper Hale? Yeah I know of him.” He said incredulously. What was she doing with that weirdo? He had seen the two together before the biology field trip, but had thought it was some weird fluke, but now she was scheduling dates with him? 

——————

“I didn’t know we had plans for prom night.” Jasper said casually once she had sat herself down at their shared table in calculus later that day.

She groaned at his words. How had he possibly heard? Did Tyler talk to him? Surely not. She knew the majority of the school would never willingly put themselves in a conversation with anyone from the family, since they usually seemed very intimidating. So that only left him hearing the conversation, and there was no way that had happened. She had seen him across the room, much too far away, when Tyler had came up to her. Maybe he had some kind of super hearing?

She pushed the rushing thoughts aside, trying not to get too caught up in the mystery. “Sorry.” She murmured. “I just needed an excuse out.” She reasoned. Jasper of course knew the reason that she had came up with the ‘date’ in the first place, but he did find himself slightly disappointed that she did not, in fact, want to go on a date with the ‘Cullen weirdo’. 

“It’s okay.” He reassured her, because it was okay. He knew that she didn’t mean it maliciously, just knowing that he knew the truth of why she couldn’t go. “Out of curiosity though, is it just because of you know what that you said no? Or would you have said yes otherwise?” He asked. 

He couldn’t help himself from asking. The question had been racing through his mind since lunch and he knew it was because of jealousy. That much was obvious, hell, he was jealous when Alice hugged her. However, he also knew that he had no right to be jealous. She in no way belonged to him, even if Alice had seen them together as mates. In reality, she didn’t owe him anything, and as much as it pained him to watch, if that’s how she wanted to spend the remainder of her life, he knew he would support her through it every step of the way.

Camila blushed lightly in embarrassment, causing the burn in his throat to intensify slightly. “Well, more than that, I guess.” She said. “Three reasons really. One, you know what. Two, he asked me in a terrible way and I’m not at all interested anyway. Three, no dating for me. It’s one of few rules I have for myself.” She murmured lowly, trying to keep her voice down so others wouldn’t hear her. 

His heart, if it had still been beating, would’ve leapt at the news that she didn’t not like Tyler in that way. However, almost immediately after, his chest ached for her. He could feel her sadness with the confession and it pained him to realize that she was afraid of growing too close to someone. He wanted to press the topic, to sooth her discomfort, but he knew that now was not the right time. 

Jasper sat up a bit straighter in his chair, an idea coming to mind. “Would you maybe want to hang out tomorrow? We could go somewhere or stay in, whatever you want.” He suggested, nerves filling his chest once more. 

As Camila sat there, mulling the invite over in her mind, she took note that the anxiety she had felt when invited to the beach, was nowhere to be seen. Jasper made her comfortable, and she wasn’t sure if that was because of him knowing her secret, or something else entirely. 

What she did know, is that she definitely wanted to get to know him more. To figure out what made him so different from the rest. To piece together all of the confusing details that he had shared with her.

She sucked in a breath and spoke. “I’d love to.”

Next Chapter

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@itsmytimetoodream @jasper-the-beloved @parkchaeyoung1997 @bobaopal @izzyisstuff @soyeonrai @just-browsing101 @demirunner @dkbj14 @iloveramensm @imyelenasexual @bella7866 @ropickle

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[rodyaklv]

JJK is about cooperation.

There's nothing I disagree with more than "JJK Is individualistic" takes. Other shonens(and shonen protagonists) are a lot more individualistic, because everybody depends on one person and this person is key to literally everything(Bleach, Naruto, OP, AoT are just like that). JJK is different.

Loneliness is one of the major themes in JJK, especially Hidden Inventory/Premature Death: Geto's descent to madness, Gojo's awakening, Toji's resentment towards the "gifted" ones, Shoko's isolation are all tied to that feeling. It's never a good thing to be lonely in JJK.

Gojo's "You die alone" view is debunked as of right now(thanks to the airport scene) and when you go back, you understand that Gojo has always taught his student to not waste their individual potential. Gojo's teaching his students to never resort to sacrifice as a mean of achieving something. But he never said anything about cooperation and weakness being equal.

The villains in JJK are also strong individually AND collectively. They never really operated alone too. Kenjaku has always had strong allies. Even Sukuna has always had Uraume by his side. And when JJK villains do operate separately, they fail. Naoya lost thrice: to Choso, where not only their techniques clashed, but their views on family, and Maki, where he underestimated her once, and then repeated his mistake .

The current narrative shows, that you have to have individual strength in order to bring something to the table, when it comes to the final fight. Gojo wouldn't have nurtured weak students. In order to rely on each other his students have to be reliable, Gege explicitly shows us when all individuals are weak, their collective effort is useless, that's why Kyoto High is a total wreck, and that's why Todo's technique works so well with Yuji, who was just a beginner sorcerer when he fought a special grade curse Hanami.

Yuji's "cog mentality" plays a huge part in this. He has come a long way, so now he's able to fight alone and take on opponents as strong as Choso. We often see him lose, but that's because he is facing opponents objectively more skilled and expirienced than him. He is motivated to get stronger not because everyone counts on him, but because in order to fullfill his duty as a cog in the mechanism, he has to be strong.

There's a pattern in Gege's writing, that miscalculation WILL cost you something, even your life(e.g. Choso's brothers, Yuki, the Zenin clan, Curse Naoya, Miwa and her binding vow). But being reliant on each other has never been seen as a weakness by Gege. If so, Gojo wouldn't have lost and we wouldn't have witnessed how Gojo's effort helped weaken Sukuna. Additionally, Gojo explicitly told us in the very beginning of JJK that he can, in fact, kill the higher-ups, but that wouldn't change much, because he needs strong allies to change the Jujutsu World.

That's why Shinjuku Showdown arc ending in real collective effort against evil is essentially proving the point that JJK is about comradery, not individualism. We'll see where this will lead us to. P.S. I would say that there is a certain type of collectivism, that Gege is criticising, that's tribalism that is so prominent in the Zenin clan and rural Japan, where there is a strong prejudice against sorcerers(Mimiko and Nanako's story) and anyone who's different(Kugisaki's flashback). Gege praises anyone who recognises that and is able to leave it *all* behind, by maybe not giving them the happy end, but a dignified conclusion.

#jjk spoilers #gojo satoru #yuji itadori #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen anime #jjk gojo #jujutsu choso #choso kamo #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu geto #jujutsu toji #megumi #itadori yuji #toji #itadori #nobara #jjk hanami #jjk kenjaku

[peachhoneii]

The possibility Eve was infected by the apple and is slowly being transformed into Roo aka the Root of all Evil is very tragic if Lilith and Lucifer were genuine about wanting to give humanity free will.

For Lucifer, we can safely say he probably meant well when he offered Eve the apple and didn’t consider any long term consequences.

Lilith is more ambiguous. My theory remains Rosie is Lilith. Lilith in Heaven is Eve. They’re on the same side, but I suspect Eve has an agenda separate from Lilith’s. That’s because the apple is directly corrupting her. It’s a slow ride too.

When you think about it, Eve has every right to be angry. Lilith and Lucifer were punished, but Eve suffered. Afaik Eve was stuck with Adam, who is a misogynistic jerk and the following:

Cain and Abel are born.

Cain kills Abel.

Cain is kicked out of the family and wanders to establish his own family and eventually dies.

Seth is born to replace Abel.

Eve continues to have numerous children so the various family lines can exist.

She is stuck with Adam and is primarily blamed for dooming humanity.

Let’s assume the list above contributes to the “curse” unleashed upon her due to eating the apple.

If Roo is the tree itself, then the apple is a seed to spread infection. All those events could just exacerbate the poison.

At some point, she snaps and decides to go feral on the universe. I think it’d be even cooler if Cain or Abel or both ended up being Lucifer’s kid, conceived in Eden and with Lilith participating.

Just imagine your bf and gf wanted to help you escape an unhappy marriage and they ended up poisoning you as a result. Furthermore, the consequences of said events lead to the premature death of your younger son by your older son, who is later banished and separated from the family.

Aside from the family drama of biblical proportions and Charlie’s development, if she’s got a few half-siblings around, Eve would have every right to burn to the ground. She really got screwed over.

Hell isn’t arguably better. But Lilith and Lucifer are at the top of the food-chain. Lilith exhibited such autonomy and authority in her realm Eve obviously envied.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #lilith morningstar #eve hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin theories

[dokidokitsuna]

Goldilocks in Grimmland

This is so, so premature...but my muses have been with me from start to finish on this idea and I adore it, so I'm talking about it now! :D

So in the RWBY NeverFell AU, Yang's little mishap during the Vytal Festival actually follows her around for quite a while; with pretty much everyone but her closest friends whispering behind her back about what she did to Mercury. This is very isolating and frustrating for her, especially since she knows from Ruby's eye-witness account that Merc was definitely faking his injury. She's determined to figure out how and why she saw that illusion, and also kinda wants revenge against Mercury for low-key ruining her life. ^^; And her investigation eventually leads her back to him...except, he looks a bit different now. Shocked by his Grimmification and eager to know more, she dives even deeper into the mystery.

Unfortunately, by this time, Salem has arrived at Beacon, parking her giant whale outside the premises similarly to the way she did in Volume 8. ^^ And upon landing, it creates a Grimm-based ecosystem-- a dark forest that gradually spreads outwards the longer it stays there, only adding to the population of Grimm overrunning the area. That's a whole other issue, that the rest of Team RWBY will probably be helping with. For Yang, it's mostly just a giant hindrance to her investigation. She's got suspicions about Mercury (and knowing he's a silver-eyed warrior, suspicions about her deceased mother) and she's sure that the answers are somewhere in that Grimm-whale. But with the death-forest of Grimm surrounding it, it seems impossible for her to get there.

Until, she remembers she knows someone with a semblance that's perfect for the job. ^^

+++

There are several reasons why I love this idea: it gives Yang the spotlight for once in her life; it makes Mercury relevant; it provides an opportunity to get members of the main cast close to Salem.

But the biggest one is: IT GIVES ME AN EXCUSE TO USE REN!!!!! (≧∇≦)ﾉ

I've always loved Lie Ren; like Penny, he's one of those characters who's just impossible to screw up (in basic concept, anyway...). Across RWBY's many adaptations and spinoffs, he's always adorable and always looks cool in combat.

The only problem with him, and the reason I've rarely spoken about him, is that...people don't seem to care about him?? ;_; Specifically, in the source material, he's given so little to do that there just isn't much of a reason to care about him. He barely has any motivations that don't boil down to some variant of "protect Nora". Even Nora herself is given character connections and talking points outside of "her man", but Ren has no one and nothing else. He gets a couple episodes of spotlight in Volume 4, and that's it for the whole series. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I mean, just think about this: Ren is the only member of the main cast who doesn't have a character song. o_o Look it up, it's true. I had to look it up just to make sure, because I found it appalling...this is a character who was originally voiced by the creator of the show; why is he such an afterthought???

So I decided, if I don't like this, I gotta do right by him in NeverFell, somehow. And it was REALLY hard to think of a place to put him, until I suddenly struck gold with this idea. ^^ Yang's little 'detective story arc' had been a thing for a while, and although I wanted her to be separate from Team RWBY, I never really liked the idea of her being alone. A character like her works best with someone to bounce off, and Ren's coolness is a great contrast for her bubbly personality.

Plus, I think putting Ren in a position like this could service him, too: not only does it give me an opportunity to add his semblance, backstory, and maybe even a Nuckelavee fight to the plot in the absence of a V4 timeline; it could give him a chance to "flesh himself out" the way Nora did in V7. Y'know, allow him to really connect with someone besides Nora-- and then, maybe seeing how similar-yet-different Yang is to his childhood friend is what'll get him to realize that he's never done this before. That maybe he's stuck to the familiar dynamic of that early relationship for so long, that there are different sides of his own personality that he's forgotten about. Sides that are coming out now that he's on this new adventure, with a new friend~.

#now this #this I might ship a little bit #i do love rarepairs #rwby #yang xiao long #lie ren #I LOVE how these designs came out

[cryptidclaw]

Snowstorm!

Design Notes:

Pretty much the same, but I made her white more blue, last time I made her too creamy colored.

Character Bio:

Snowstorm

(Snowfur)

Pansexual; she/her

Age as of death: 5 cycles, 8 moons (~38 Hyrs)

Title meaning: -storm = a cat who is powerful in battle; strong and fights like a storm

Warrior of Thunder Order

Mentor: Sparrowpelt

Mother: Moonflower

Father: Stormtail

Siblings: Star Bluefrost

Half Siblings: Downnose; Cricketstep

Mate (cat divorced post death): Thistleclaw

Kits: Sky; Shine; Shimmer; Star Tigerclaw; Lynxstorm

Grandkits: Swift; Brambleflower; Tawnyclaw; Sootfur; Rainwhisker; Sorreltail; Mothwing; Star Hawkfrost

Other notable kin: Daisytoe (grandmother); Rooktail (grandfather); Goosefeather (uncle); Stonecliff (nephew); Star Mistyfoot (niece); Moss (niece)

Extra notes: 

Just like with Bluefrost, she doesn't really view Down and Cricket as siblings so I didn't list Shrike in the other kin section.

Snow just doesn't really think of Stormtail as her father and she just chooses to ignore him for the most part.

Character Summary:

Snowstorm is a strong and fierce cat, quick to fight and extremally stubborn, while Bluefrost is the cold and calculating one (before her old age at least), Snow is the one who is rash and quick to act.

It is not all to surprising that Snow ended up being mates with Thistleclaw as they were similar in many ways. However they are almost too similar, they fed into each other's worst traits, constantly wanting to one up each other and prove they are strong, they had a very toxic relationship. Bluefrost (and their shared friends Rosebush and Thrushcloud) took notice of this, they, especially Blue tried to get Snow to see the issue with the relationship, but Snow was a stubborn cat and refused any of their advice "she was strong and could take care of herself thank you very much". Eventually Blue and their friends gave up on actively trying to split up Snow and Thistle as they saw it could only piss Snow off more and would lead to her pulling away so they instead just kept an eye on her.

Snow and Thistle became known as that couple who fought and bickered a lot, but most didn't notice how poor the relationship truly was, just like how most didn't notice how awful of a person Thistleclaw was.

Snow and Thistle had their first litter when they were between 1-2 cycles old, sadly the litter was premature and all 3 kits died soon after their birth due to how weak and sickly they were. Snow named them Sky, Shine and Shimmer in reference to the Stars where she knew they would go to soon. The death of her first litter deeply traumatized Snow and she was not ready to have another litter for many more cycles, much to the chagrin of Thistleclaw who desperately wanted to carry on his bloodline (he wanted little mini Thistles to mold). However Snow wouldn't budge on the topic and they only had a litter once Snow was ready.

Thistle and Snow's second litter were Tigerclaw and Lynxstorm, two healthy and strong toms.

Sadly soon after Tiger and Lynx had been made apprentices, Snow had gone for a patrol alongside Thistle. They had gotten into an argument about the harsh extra training and morals Thistle was determined to give their sons. Thistle riled Snow up, claiming she was weak for disliking what he was doing, and when Snow was in a state like that she didnt think before acting. When a River Order patrol interrupted their argument by crossing the border, Snow jumped at the chance to prove just how much stronger she than her mate she was, but in battle Snow was too consumed with fighting to notice the cliff... which she fell over, plummeting to her demise.

The death of Snow deeply effected both her sons and Bluefrost, though it is hard to say how it effected Thistle, he barely showed emotion beyond anger, but the tom was almost always angry.

Bluefrost never truly moved on after Snow's death however, and it's because of this she was so blind to how cruel of a cat Tigerclaw was becoming, Blue was too attached to him being her beloved sister's son to believe he was more his father than his mother. She only saw the truth once the tom turned on her and attacked that she saw what her nephew had become.

...

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Snowstorm an au version of Snowfur from Warrior Cats. She is half standing with her back legs lower to the ground, she has a determined but happy expression on her face with her mouth open in a smile. She is a slender, long furred, light blue-gray and brown tabby color point molly, with blue eyes. She has a white body with with bluish light gray coloring on her face, ears, legs and tail and slightly darker stripes and light tan-brown lines her colorpoint markings where they meet the white. She also has white lining her eyes, on her muzzle and up between her eyes, on the tips of her toes and the tip of her tail. She has a pink nose and inner ears./End ID]

#cryptidclaw's warriors au #rise of change #snowfur #snowstorm #warrior cats #warrior cats design #warriors

[lemon-and-lead]

These Barbies are expressly prohibited from entering spider society HQ due to extreme canon event interference!

I wanted to draw my spiderverse characters, but decided to do a full scale piece instead of a standard character ref sheet. These two are preexisting OCs that I decided to Spider-man-ify. Meet Emily Fenstar, alias Spider-Girl, and her uncle, Miles "Deadpool" Fenstar.

Some lore:

Emily comes from earth 4082 in the year 2085. She was raised by her Uncle Miles after the death of her parents. Her world is controlled by a series of megacorporation monopolies, including Alchemax. The CEO of Alchemax sought to create a new generation of mutant heroes, and began experimenting on his company's employees and their families. Miles and Emily were abducted, split up and altered. Emily had her DNA spliced with the DNA of a spider, and Miles was enhanced with a super serum that granted him an extreme healing factor to the point of immortality. They believe themselves to be the only survivors of their respective programs.

Miles was eventually able to escape, rescuing his niece on the way out. He took on the name Deadpool and found work as a mercenary to support her and keep them both from being recaptured by Alchemax and their many engineered monsters. During his captivity, he endured horrible injuries from imperfect versions of the serum and his hair went prematurely grey. He's set apart from most Deadpool variants out there by the fact that he's never had cancer, and more importantly, the fact that he actually knows how to keep his mouth shut. He works hard to keep his daughter safe, especially when she tags along on some of his jobs.

Emily is far from standard as Spider-People go, due to being genetically spliced like Spider-Man 2099. Her power set is similar- she has sharp claws, venomous fangs and no spider sense. She built her web shooter herself. Her venom is stronger than Miguel's, and will kill instead of paralyzing. She doesn't hesitate to use it when she gets into a pinch, and has no qualms about killing to protect herself or her uncle. Both of them are incredibly wanted by the authorities, and she would rather die than be caught and returned to the program.

There are other versions of Emily that ended up becoming Spider-Woman, but the Emily from 4082 is the only one that wasn't bitten by a radioactive spider and didn't have her uncle die. Missing the first two canon events threw off her whole timeline, leading to her never meeting the person who was supposed to be her version of the Gwen Stacy event, as well as practically every other thing that was supposed to happen. Because of this, Miguel slapped her with a permanent ban and a no contact rule against all of Earth 4082, with the excuse that her dimension was probably unstable. She thinks that's bullcrap and fully intends to find her way in some day when she's got less to worry about.

Fun fact: This piece took me nine goddamn hours. Enjoy.

#my art #original character #art #artists on tumblr #oc #ocs #spiderman into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spidersona #into the spider verse #deadpool #deadpool art #spider man #amazing spider man #deadpool fanart #spiderverse fanart #spiderverse oc #atsv #spiderman atsv #itsv #across the spider verse

[saphirered]

Caged Birds Don't Sing

And here's the third and final part of this request! You can find part two here. I hope you have all enjoyed this little angsty piece as much as I have. Happy reading my darlings! 😘

You walk among the gore and decay, stepping over those who have left this world and the horrors that tore them away. You hear the wails be they cries of pain, of grief or relieve. You’re covered in grime, head to toe. The silk and gossamer had been exchanged for steel and leather but the burden is equally heavy. You just wander. No purpose. No direction. You hear the faintest echo pierce through your hazy mind. The world is numb. You are numb and waiting for it all to come crashing down, for the realisation to hit you viciously. You’re free. You’re free of her, free of it all. You were a fool to think it’d magically all be better. All those sacrifices you made, they were a blood price for this. The goal was reached but the price steep. You find your gaze connecting to the eyes of one who paid the price for your silence. The White Wolf of Doranelle steps up to you. You can see his lips moving. He speaks your name but his words are a distant echo. He grabs onto your arm and gently shakes you. 

Fenrys saw you walking among the corpses and chaos. You looked like an angel of death among them; reaping the souls of the fallen and walking them to the afterlife. Once upon a time he might have jested you looked horrible, that the battlefield did not suit you and you should return to your life of finery, that blood tarnishes even the prettiest diamonds. You might have clapped back but he knows now you won’t. You’re too far out of it. You don’t even respond when he calls your name. He realises why when he shakes you, when he sees that hand you had clasped over your abdomen move, and sees that blood and gore is not your enemy’s. You’re ashen, and have lost your radiance. You could never be plain but this must have been the closest you’d ever got to it. He’s all too aware how you straighten your back, you don’t even feel the pain anymore but still make it a point to appear presentable, as if you’re ready to meet your end.

“Have you come to finish the job yourself?” There’s an airiness to your voice. You’re ready. You know what’s coming. It’s all lead to this. “It’s okay, Fenrys. I’m ready to face the consequences of my actions.” Conflict crosses his features so you reassure him. You find it with yourself to take his hand and guide it to his sword. He doesn’t shake you off nor stop you. Still he looks conflicted. 

“I used to dream of this moment,” He starts holding onto that sword but then he takes your hand instead, placing it over your abdomen and keeps pressure on it. “But I was wrong. I know what you did. I know why. It wasn’t worth it. You did what you could to be selfless, to protect and preserve. You did it at the expense of so many others.” Fenrys thinks for a second while you take in his words. He continues no less. 

“How is it any different than any of this? Why do you deserve to die when we’ve done just the same? When I’ve done just the same in those years of service. It doesn’t make it right but I know I’ll be spending the rest of my days making things right. You are clever and quick witted. You see through lies and deception, and are a master of persuasion. You are stubborn and thickheaded and annoying but most of all you can be a complete and utter bitch. We need that. We need you.” 

“For now I would like to see the stars.” One last time… You don’t say it but something in your heart knows this to be true. The sun is close to set. You don’t even know how long you’d been wandering the fields. It might have been eternity. You knew it would end here on the battlefield. You knew this life of yours would come to an end with Fenrys standing there in front of you. That was your curse wasn’t it? You knew how it would end for Maeve but you never gave her the opportunity to get rid of those who would lead to her downfall prematurely. You had no intention of changing this moment of yours either. It’s best to not mess with the way things are supposed to be. You learned that lesson the hard way. 

Fenrys sees the solemn distance in your eyes. He cannot begin to imagine what runs through your head, not even now he knows the gravity of your life, of the burden you’ve carried ever since you met him. He doesn’t envy you. He simply nods and throws your arm over his shoulder and lifts you as if you were no more than a rag doll. If you wish to see the stars then you will witness them away from death and ruin. With what energy he replenished he takes you to the beautiful hills of some forgotten place. As the last light of the sun sets over the horizon and the grasses rustle in the wind he sets you down. He debates if he should sit down next to you but then he feels the gentle tuck on his sleeve. You stare up at him with bright and peaceful eyes and he finds himself lowering next to you. How is it in the aftermath of it all you have become the embodiment of peace among the chaos? How is he feels that pleasant relief and release now he is near you? 

Together you sit until the silver speckles fill the night’s sky. The air grows cooler, and the wind dances ever so lightly; the only sound of the rustling blades of grass banishing the echoes of haunted clashing steel. You feel warm and comfy and cozy so you slowly lay down and gaze up. An easy smile graces your features, even when you see Fenrys at your side. If someone had told you you’d be here right now in this very moment, you’d have called them fool. Yet here you are. Here he is and he stares at you with something you can’t quite place. There’s pity, regret but that’s as far as you can uncover. 

“It was easy to hate you for all she did to us. We couldn’t do anything about Maeve, loyal or not but you… I see now it wasn’t right- I don’t know- I think what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry it had come to this.” Fenrys stumbles over his words. For that smooth talking and quick-witted fae he is known to be he half expected you to give him shit for it. He’s surprised you don’t. You just smile up at the stars. 

“I’m sorry too. For everything. I wish I could have done better.” There are so many words you want to speak but don’t have the energy for to voice them nor does it seem to be the moment to bring up that horrible past now the healing can finally begin. 

He watches as you struggle to breathe a little. He adjusts, lifts your head and sits behind you so you may lean against him. Throughout his weeks of torture, you’d been the one to clean up the mess. You’d been the one to nurture his wounds and held him while he slept. He’d refused your help at first solely for the fact he hated you, or told himself he did. He meant what he said; it was easy to hate you, to blame you and tell himself you were the villain in the story. You patched him up. You’d given his brother a final resting place when no one else dared to. You’d lied to Maeve’s face about it too. You’d risked it all for him. How could he hate you now knowing what he knows? You’ve been so strong but so broken for so long. You deserve your peace. You deserve the one thing you asked for. He’ll keep you company just as you kept him. That’s what he tried to tell himself at least. 

Hatred can turn from many things. Fenrys is not ashamed to say he’d miss you if you’d become another casualty of this grand scheme of Maeve’s. You asked to see the stars for a reason, thinking it’d be the last thing you’d see. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. Your odds might not be looking good but he knows you’re stubborn. He brushes some tangles from your hair with his fingers. 

“Then do better. I dare you to do better, you stubborn little bitch.” He speaks with a laugh. You tilt your head backwards more to look at him and manage to raise an eyebrow, sniffling a snort.

“What?” You’re confused but something within you sparks beneath the surface of your skin. You’d never been one to back down from a challenge set by a furry bastard. A part of your mind asks the right questions; why should you stop now?

“You heard me.” He guides you into a sitting position and pats your cheek. “Think you can’t do it? You lost your game, sunshine.” 

“Fenrys, now is not-“ He places a hand over your mouth and your next words are muffled. You try to remove it but can’t get a grasp.

“No no. I expect a grand apology for all the years of slander of my esteemed character. Besides, if I’m going to do this ambassador thing, I need you to write me a good reference. It’s the least you could do.” He lowers his hand just in time for you to snort.

“Ambassador? You? You don’t even know the first thing about basic etiquette, let alone foreign etiquettes. You’ll start a war within the week.” There’s that spark again. There’s that life in your eyes, that chaos among the calm that he’s hated facing only to be reminded it was the only consistent thing, the thing he took joy in over all these years. It was easy to hate you and blame you but it was never truly satisfying. Fenrys had found great satisfaction in challenging you, teasing you because despite everything, you made a worthy opponent who would meet his challenge. You were a sparring partner in a fight none of his friends could match. 

“What you gonna do about it? Stop me? I’d like to see you try.” He crosses his arms and raises his chin in defiance. Your lips part and you scoff shaking your head. “You can spend the rest if your life looking at the stars right here or you can tell me exactly how I fucked up the precious table settings and ate with the wrong cutlery. Hell, you can even judge me for all the princess I’ll sleep with and haunt me for being banished from nations. Someone needs to know what they’re doing and I sure as hell don’t.” He’s not wrong. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and you do. When he looks forward on his own, all he sees is shortcomings and the need to learn. he could be taught and would be of course. And he’s not completely incompetent but when he looks at you, if he had you with him, he feels safe and confident. 

“Only an idiot would leave you unsupervised.” You’re not wrong and you can see the horrible scenarios play in your mind of Fenrys running half naked out of a country or greatly offending a court for not knowing their customs. He’d be a mess. You know no amount of tutors could put up with his bullshit or have the dog pay attention for more than five minutes. 

“Well then, hello there idiot. You’re my supervisor. Now let’s get you to a healer and a bath because frankly you reek of death.” You feel your heart beat in your ears, feel the rush of blood when he reaches out his hand and offers it to you. He needs you. And in a way you need him. You need Fenrys to remind you what it feels to be alive because that’s what he’s done. He’s taken many hurtful blows to your armour in the past but when you were at a loss, you knew him to be consistent, you knew what to expect and when it mattered most, you had each other despite it all, despite the hatred you had for each other. It won’t be an easy road but then again nothing about Fenrys is easy except maybe his tendency to share his bed with others. You sigh and close your eyes. You nod as you place your hand in his. 

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” 

“Eternally.”

“You better make it worth my time.” The look he gives you when you speak those words; the one that is filled with the most indecent thoughts, tells you enough. 

“You’re the only person who’s ever shared my bed and I haven’t fucked. We can change that.” He teases. Old habits die hard but he’ll never go out of his way to let you know you’re his type. Previously it would be followed by a comment of how your horrible attitude or the moment you’d open your mouth would be an instant mood kill. There’s no follow up comment. 

“I’d like to see you try.” You couldn’t resist the urge to make that comment, to set that challenge and while your initial thought is you’d regret this, everything else screams you won’t. You just won’t make it easy on him. Fenrys laces his fingers with yours, gently pulling your entwined hands towards him and therefore urging you forward. Cocky bastard. 

“How about a kiss first? I’m told it leaves the many wanting for so much more. You up for the challenge?” You don’t answer but instead close the distance and so his lips meet yours. He’s damned. He’s down the rabbit hole and falling forever more. He’s breathless. Few people managed to get him so and he’d be damned if he’d let you win that easily. He’ll still take great pleasure in this moment but when your lips finally part, he has the both of you falling through the worlds and reappear in the healer’s ward. 

“I hate you.” You groan.

“And you can hate me even more after you’re all patched up.” 

#throne of glass x reader #fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys #throne of glass fenrys #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #throne of glass #sjmaas #sjm fanfic #sjm fic

[munv]

𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗜 𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗔 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘?

Quotev has a terrible grip on me please free me *sobs*

series coming soon! Message me to be tagged when it comes out <33

SYNOPSIS: You are Riko Amani’s older sister, however you end up finding out your dear little sister is the star plasma vessel for no other than the famous master tengen of the jujutsu world. What will happen on your journey to protect her from the dangers of this new adventure along with her new caretakers?

#PREMATURE DEATH ARC

SATORU GOJO : “y/n-chan, come give your favorite person a hug!”

SUGURU GETO: “yes hello? Yes this is suguru..riko tried to swallow soap again.”

IEIRI SHOKO: “maybe if a idiot didn’t try to hump a tarantula we wouldn’t be here”

RIKO AMANI: “nii-san..get these crippled hypocrites away from me”

TOJI FUSHIGURO: “I’m getting impatient you stupid brat..”

#STORY

AT a young age ever since you and riko had lost your parents, you were stuck with your caretaker Misato. A few years in you had been able to use jujutsu and entrolled at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High school.

YOU had never been in the actual class but had gotten private lessons from the other students since you were born with a unusual amount of cursed energy.

ONE day however, you were called to the office only to find out that your little sister was compatible with to match with Master Tengen which had you more worried than ever, compared to your sister who had almost no problem whatsoever. What will this journey lead you to in the end? Let us find out!

#{-muxis writes #x reader #x y/n #headcanons #headcanon #oneshots #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #suguru geto #riko amanai #premature death #jjk x reader #star plasma vessel #shoko ieiri #toji fushiguro #jujutsu tech #jjk manga spoilers #jjk season 2 #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #ieiri shoko #ieiri shoko x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk oneshot #jjk x you #geto x gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo saturo x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru