#being trained to fight from a very young age and having to deal with that trauma | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

There are dozens of funny blogs to kill time on Tumblr.

#being trained to fight from a very young age and having to deal with that trauma

aweina · 7 months

Note

Could I request the reverse of your ‘when you catch them staring’ headcannons? And with a lot of teasing from the reader too?

୨୧. heart eyes — mortal kombat one. kameos : sub-zero. scorpion. smoke + johnny cage & raiden

when you catch them staring at you.

bi-han tries to make his staring unnoticeable. with his silver mask blocking away any emotions that he could display, his eyes have become naturally expressive over time. they gleam whenever you pass by him, a foreign softness to them. the permanent scowl is less intense when he takes a moment to memorize details of your face. your eyes captivated him the most — a whirl of emotions so deep set into your irises. he could stare at them for hours on end.

it’s when you asked bi-han to revise tomorrow’s training module, his staring is much more obvious in such a closer proximity. his dull brown eyes look restful, more hazy with warmth that contrasted his deadly cold nature — yet he still looks terrifying, but it could never be helped when it came bi-han, it was his resting face. when you quickly look up for a reply, he realizes all too late that he’s caught, yet his stubbornness tells him not to falter under your gaze as he mentally cursing at himself for his blatant act of staring.

“are you angry at me or is there something on my face?” you quirked an amused brow with a smile, tilting your head cutely.

bi-han just grunted in response, snatching the scroll off your hands and raising it against his face to avoid your teasing gaze — thankful his mask hid his redden cheeks. the grandmaster would have to die of old age before he admits that he admires you from afar. but for now he’ll deal with your relentless teasing.

kuai liang loves to admire beauty whenever he encounters it. the vibrant, pink blossoms grown in wu shi academy always made him smile. the fresh greenery and exotic plants that he cared for always brightened his day. but all those things were incomparable to your beauty and intellect. he loves to watch you fight — even looking past the sweat and messy hair after intense training. he watches you with adoration when you converse with the younger trainees — resilient and beautiful — he thinks.

you tended to him after he comes back from a mission, offering herbal tea and a scenery of his garden under the moonlight. you converse with him, although it’s one sided. kuai liang stares at your lips, soft and pretty — curling into a sweet smile. you notice that his soften eyes were directed on your lips. a rush of heat flowed through your body, how long had he done this for?

“what is so interesting about my lips kuai liang?” you muster the courage to ask, mentally thanking madam bo for gifting you tinted lip balm.

his reaction seemed halted before he realizes he was indeed caught. he chuckled nervously as he propped himself up to turn towards the luminance of the moon. kuai liang was flustered, but when he felt your balmy lips on his cheek, all the shame in his body vanished.

tomas isn’t subtle. at all. he’s very much aware of that, even his brothers and the young trainees tease him for being so smitten at plain sight. even so, he still cannot help but continue to stare at you with a loving daze — nervously fiddling his fingers behind his back. through his daily admiring, tomas came to the conclusion that he loved everything about you. his eyes tend to dart to your bright eyes, soft lips, pretty hair, and silky skin.

when you’re accompanying him with his training, cheering and playfully applauding at the younger ninjas dueling in an tense battle. the action playing before tomas was lost in time. it was blurry, silent, unmoving but all he could see is you — manipulating this time stop in his mind with your raw radiance. then his eyes widen when you met his gaze and suddenly he’s panicking. with trained speed, he’s now looking down at his feet, whistling a broken tune.

“this is the third time i’ve caught you staring, you know that right?” you mused, uncontrollably giggling when tomas nods in flustered acknowledgment.

tomas looks up from his feet and sighs in defeat. even caught another time, he’ll still take the opportunity to look at the scene before him — your cheerful grin and gleaming eyes. if his staring problem can make you this happy, he doesn’t see why he should ever stop.

johnny cage is a shameless man. he loves to flirt and proudly embrace his failed attempts at flirting. eye contact is key, he believes. a very effective technique to swoon others and an act of intimacy without touching. johnny loves to stare at you, in hopes of meeting your eye and share a perfectly cliche romantic movie experience. but with your oblivious nature, he hasn’t been successful just yet. although he learned that he loved your smile — instead of his usual attraction to anything below the face.

mindlessly wondering around the fire temple, johnny finds you sitting on the stairs while reading a rather thick looking book. he immediately joins your side, flashing a white smile as he enthusiastically boast about his acting career. even if your eyes aren’t on him, to much to his disappointment, you acknowledged every word and responded in interest. then he gradually stops talking until he’s mute and you grow concerned.

“johnny, did you fall asleep?” your brows furrowed as you turned to him, his head resting on his knee.

with his frosty blue lens, you couldn’t tell if he’s awake or asleep. slowly, you took the frames off his face and flinch in shock. his eyes were wide open, staring at yours with unfamiliar intensity for a moment. then you smile and turn away flustered. finally! he made eye contact and was rewarded with your beautiful smile. johnny’s hollywood charm works … most of the time.

raiden is clueless when it comes to his staring problem. he doesn’t mean to stare half the time, it was a force of habit — automatic admiration. you were simply bewitching, even in simple attire that was paired with a stained apron. his eyes are big and soft when he looks at you, even so when he talks about you. it could take kung lao screaming in his ear for raiden to snap out of his enchanted state. he promises himself to be more subtle, and so he did.

you’re pacing around the tea house, serving refreshments with impressive finesse while warmly conversing with the local villagers. under his straw hat, raiden watches you intently — noticing the loose stands fall on your face as it tickles your neck. your soft hair frames your face perfectly, dancing through the air like silk in the wind — one of your most beautiful features. under a smitten daze, he doesn’t notice how your body is much closer and how your voice was much clearer, soothing his ears.

“it’s okay to call me over for a chat raiden, i don’t bite.” you jested as you tilted his hat back with a finger, meeting his eager gaze.

he’s blushing now, beet red. a nervous laugh escaped his lips as his eyes averted to the side — caught in the act. you only adoringly smile at him, leaving the check on his table as you tend to another customer. another friendly interaction, raiden thinks. but when he looks at the check, a small heart and the time you’re off work was written on the parchment. his cheeks suddenly hurt from smiling too hard, he couldn’t wait. but for now, he’ll kill time by watching you from afar.

#.୨୧ ina writes #smoke x reader #subzero x reader #scorpion x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #kuai liang x reader #bi han x reader #johnny cage x reader #raiden x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk x reader

3K notes · View notes

sailoryooons · 8 months

Text

Angel | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences.

☾ Word Count: 15,551

☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff

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

☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end.

☾ Published: September 3, 2023

☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.

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

Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist

Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.

She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.

Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night.

Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it.

Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property. Let’s try to play nice and show face.

Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do.

Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl.

“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.”

“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.

“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”

Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway.

It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.

Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.

Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts.

Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer.

They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right.

Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him.

“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”

“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”

“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.”

“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”

“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”

“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.”

Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.”

A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound.

Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.

When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.

People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top.

The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well.

Old Yoongi might not be so impressed.

Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom.

The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely.

Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.

Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck.

Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone.

Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal.

Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house.

Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced.

Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly.

Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.

Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.

Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses.

His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel.

Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.

The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops.

At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning.

Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients.

It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store.

“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”

“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”

“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”

“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time.

“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”

“Thanks, Angel.”

“Mhmm.”

His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes.

Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in.

Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required.

In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm.

Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.

Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you.

He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space.

He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too.

It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work.

Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms.

With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room.

Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time.

“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.

“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh.

You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back.

Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you.

“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.

“Mhmm. Just a long night.”

“You smell like perfume.”

“Hmm?”

“Like peaches.”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

“Interesting.”

“Not particularly.”

He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”

Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.”

“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.”

Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for.

Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning.

“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”

“Are you a foot person?”

“What if I was?”

You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”

Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.

“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”

“That so?”

“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”

Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability.

You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly.

So he does.

Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly.

Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you.

His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds.

Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees.

He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no.

Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs.

Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead.

Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it.

Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.

When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.

This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to.

There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.”

“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.”

He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.”

A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.”

Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair.

The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.

Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out.

“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.”

He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.

When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.

Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful.

“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough.

The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.

“You don’t-”

“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck yeah, Angel.”

Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him.

Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him.

“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.

“Give it to me.”

One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching.

Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home.

A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier.

Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.

The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.

Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything.

There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.

You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love.

Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day.

“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”

“I’d sleep in them anyway.”

“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”

“Meh.”

“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”

“Huh. So you are jealous.”

“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.”

Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.

Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake.

When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be.

You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time.

Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.

The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.

A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.

“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.

Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder.

“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”

“Mhmm.”

“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.”

With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.

Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it.

Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth.

You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have.

As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to.

Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself.

At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.

If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters.

It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself.

And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now.

The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him.

After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner.

You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers.

Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile.

Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head.

The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin.

At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator.

It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly.

Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.

While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.

Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away.

Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning.

Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.

Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.

You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip.

He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement.

Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left.

Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt.

Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen.

The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something.

A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss.

“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”

You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle.

Money. This man has money.

Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately.

The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either.

The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.

If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.

“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”

“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”

“Well said.”

Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.

“Do you know where we are?”

You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”

He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”

“You asked a question.”

“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”

“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”

He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.”

Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.

“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”

“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”

You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”

“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”

You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”

“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”

“To get their cock sucked, usually.”

Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.

Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder.

“I will fucking kill you.”

There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.

You need to be valuable. And fast.

“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.”

Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest.

“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”

“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.”

“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”

“One way to find out, right?”

Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.

Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen.

Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.

Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life.

You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.

It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is.

Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”

You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”

“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”

“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”

“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”

“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”

“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”

“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”

This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him.

“Thank you.”

“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.”

“Okay.”

His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“See you soon.”

Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat.

When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood.

Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin.

All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?

Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe?

Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi.

“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”

“What?” Yoongi demands.

“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.”

It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting.

“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”

“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”

“He told you where they were?”

“No, she did.”

Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”

“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”

“In front of-”

“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”

“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”

“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”

“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”

Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”

An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.

I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead?

In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated.

None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again.

Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.

You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.

It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost.

You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm.

At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have.

Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage.

It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it.

You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live.

The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.

You’re not sure if it’s that simple.

It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.

Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off.

Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.

A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried.

When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined.

Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.

His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety.

Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

Click. Squeeze. Bang.

You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand.

A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.

Squeeze. Bang.

It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels.

Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified.

“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!”

“That’s it, keep talking to me.”

It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!”

Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-

Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.

Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths.

“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”

“No.”

“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?”

“I don’t-”

“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place.

Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”

You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather.

When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off.

“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun.

“Yes.”

“Then why-”

“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”

“Okay.”

“Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”

A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you.

It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.

Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home.

Home.

The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare.

Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now.

Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only.

The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense.

So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this.

Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling.

The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.

“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”

“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”

“Give me five.”

When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching.

Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk.

Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs.

Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.

You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle.

Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.

He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him.

When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.

He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver.

Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw.

Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good.

One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good.

Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you.

Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.

“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking.

He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Hmmm.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.”

“Fuck.”

He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little.

“Fuck yeah.”

You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself.

“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.

“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.”

“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”

“You do.”

“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.”

The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”

“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.”

“Mmm.”

The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying.

He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.

A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”

“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”

Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock.

Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad.

Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity.

“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?”

“Fuuuuck yeah.”

His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.”

“Shit shit shit shit.”

You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it.

The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin.

For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest.

“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours.”

“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”

You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”

He pauses. “What?”

“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.”

“Then why stay there?”

You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”

“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”

“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”

He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.”

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #mafia yoongi #mafia bts #minors dni #minors do not interact #halis happy agust

3K notes · View notes

vcnillazelda · 1 year

Note

can i req young! reader w 141, just like platonic headcannons and whatnot about like her being a rookie and sparring w ghost or konig or soap or alejandro n ect n stuff, ty!!

ghost team/141 + könig sparring with rookie! s/o

characters: ghost, soap, könig, gaz, alejandro, rudy, price

warnings: mild injury??? maybe?

a/n: aw omg i love this!! + alejandro’s walk omg 😭

✞———————❖———————✞

ghost

it was your first time sparring, and you went straight to him???

he’d rather watch you spar and give you tips, but the way you’re begging him to do it with you is swaying him

he’s so tense and worried he might hurt you but with your assurances he’s willing

he does it in more of a private setting, but he still makes notes on your techniques, strength, agility

gives you little tips if you’re dealing with larger opponents

at one point he had you trapped and he will never admit the way you let out a breathy giggle and struggled in his grasp made him fluster behind his mask

is all impressed if you manage to beat him, but on the inside he was going easy on you

ofc you find out after watching him spar with johnny and you’re like “why are you holding back with me???” and he admits he’s just scared he’ll hurt you

when you two are in private afterwards he’ll give you a soft kiss

at the end of the day, he’d rather watch you train rather than partake, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he hurt you, even in a controlled setting

johnny

unlike his lieutenant, he’s into play fighting with you, so he’s all the way down to spar

ofc he knows sparring is training for you guys and not like a sport, but he still thinks it’s fun and wants you to enjoy it too

he won’t hit hard, he’s a gentleman, and he pretty much always lets you win even though he shouldn’t bc it’s meant to be a fair fight

his old partner in sparring was gaz, but now he has you and he’s actually really enjoying being able to spend extra time with you

the two of you make little jokes to each other as well as trash talk each other, but at the end of the session you’ll hug and be like “you did great :)”

he’s got amazing sportsmanship, so if you genuinely beat him when he’s trying he’ll congratulate you and offer to get you a drink

10/10 best training partner

könig

nope.

he’s a big boy with anxiety, he’s terrified of hurting you and (unlike simon) he will voice his concerns to you

it will take A LOT of convincing

he stays on the defensive and sometimes never even lands a blow on you, which leads to him getting scolded

you will have to sit down with him and state that you’re not made of glass and that you’ll be fine, so he eases up and genuinely spars with you

however… he got a bit carried away with adrenaline, and he pinned you in a way that pulled a muscle in your shoulder

apologies. all the time, even after your muscle heals

please assure him everything’s okay bc he will genuinely start crying as if you hate him now 😭

it will take him a while to start training with you again, and this time he’s more aware of his strength and keeps you from genuine harm

like johnny, he’s very sportsmanlike so if you beat him he’ll smile and kiss your forehead with some muttered congratulations in german

treats you to lunch afterwards all the time, bc he loves training in the morning, and will chat about techniques to help you out considering you’re still a rookie

contrary to people’s beliefs, he’s quite a chatty partner when he gets to know you, and will happily give you tips and tricks

gaz

yay! you’re both close in age! you both immediately click together. you’re like best friends

loves sparring with you, it’s his favourite activity when on base with you

it looks like the two of you are play fighting most of the time, but tbh kyle just wants to have fun with you whilst also working with you

you both need tips from price, who happily gives them, then observes as the two of you try to use them

you both get really competitive so it takes a while for anyone to tap out

i hc that gaz is into wrestling, so he’ll definitely imitate an announcer to make you laugh and hopefully catch you off guard

loves getting you in a headlock but never hurts you, as much as a goofball he is he’s very aware

if he manages to trap you under him he makes a few jokes in a low tone and steals a kiss

his eyes will always be slightly flirty, and he will 100% flirt between jokes

11/10 amazing partner in general

alejandro

immediately agrees, and because he’s been serving for a long time, he takes on the role of teaching you about sparring

always praises you, loves praising you for every little thing

he’s totally not using this as an excuse to be close to you

at one point in time he had you stuck in his grasp and the way he whispers to you is just 😩

(he definitely knows you’re weak for his voice and uses it to tease you)

no matter what happens in training, even if you’re the one who taps out, he will kiss your forehead and say that he’s proud of you

he’s another one that’s extremely aware of how much strength he’s using, but he won’t hesitate to be a little more forceful with you

you need to learn somehow

if you try to kiss him to distract him he’ll chuckle and ease up before getting back to training

he’s such a good teacher that when you’re not training with him you’re winning most of the time against other opponents

he’s so proud :,)

rudy

this poor boy is such a soft lover, so the idea of accidentally hurting you is always in the back of his mind

tries to go slow, but sometimes he doesn’t remember his strength and immediately backs out if you let out a small pained noise

hugs you after bc he feels bad

he’s skittish, but overall a good training partner once you two have a talk

uses techniques that alejandro taught him, and tried teaching them to you

he’s not an amazing teacher though…

still praises you

he’s quite young too, but he’s been serving longer so he’s meant to be able to teach you things

however… he still has a lot to learn, so sparring is a learning experience for both of you

wont admit it, but he gets a little jealous when you train with other people

cuddles 100%, cuddling is mandatory after training

if your muscles are strained he’ll give you a massage too bc he’s such a sweetheart

will 100% tell you to go rough with him bc it’s still you learning as a rookie, but if you don’t want to he understands

he just wants you to succeed :)

price

this papa bear is the one who offered to train with you

he saw you and gaz mucking about and decided to mentor you, much like alejandro he’s your teacher

gives you genuinely good advice and tips on how to break out of someone’s grasp and take them down

wont go soft on you, but he won’t go too hard either

he knows your limits and adapts around them, therefore he’s a really good teacher

will always assure you that backing down is okay, there’s nothing to kick yourself over

there’s no chance he’d ever actually hurt you, he’s confident in his abilities and knows his strength and limits

however, he can get too rough if you’re seemingly fine, he’s just trying to test you.

if you’re being quiet about him being a little too rough he’ll sense somethings up and encourages you to talk, sparring is meant to be affective and good for both people involved, it’s training after all

will apologise if he accidentally hurt you without realising, even if it’s just a minor bruise

always aspires to get you to the best of the best, wants to watch you rise in ranks because he knows you have what it takes to be an amazing soldier

he’s so good at sparring and enjoys it so much that sometimes it doesn’t even feel like training and wants you to feel the same way, he’ll help as best he can

3K notes · View notes

marymary-diva17 · 6 months

Note

Ok so

We know the typical reader being hated by the sullys, and in this request she's neteyam's twin sister but looks sky people or whatever, Jake cares more about her siblings more than her and neytiri is basically blind to all the hate reader gets from the clan and neglect from her dad and siblings, and her dad making go on missions even though she's scared of sky people, buuuuttt.......plot twist, reader gets tired do she trains in the forest alone, spying on sky people way of fighting to play fire with fire, she becomes buff and tall with scars since she decided to live in the middle of the forest in the most forbidden place of it, where no na'vi survived except her apparently, and because of that she deals and hunts bigger, stronger and faster predators than the normal ones, and sooo, she has better reflex and hates the family except neytiri cause she's her mama and tuk because she's too young to comprehend what's going on. She does visit spider once in a while but never reveals where she lives, appearing as an unknown warrior only when the raids are happening and then disappearing in the shadows, hell not even Kiri with her Pandora Jesus powers can track her

You can take something off if you want and the rest you can choose what you want to do

sully family x daughter/sister reader

Ewya blessed child

part 2

When neytiri and Jake had found out they were going to be parents they were overjoyed with the new, it had been one of the many good news to come since the end of the war between the navi and RDA. Twins will soon enter this world and join the omatacayia clan, their son neteyam was born first his birth had brought everyone great joy then there was his sister you. Your birth was seen as a bad omen to many has you had inherited your father human DNA born with five finger and toes and different shade of blue and different markings then everyone else. Even your hair was seen as something horrible it was white color very know to the navi, you were seen as demon child. She was also seen as the failure as well she was no like other navi child, and never seem to fit in with her clan or even her own family.

Y/n " dad I'm ......"

Jake " young lady I'm not going over this again with you" once again you are in trouble with you dad, training classes had happened and your had completely failed tsu'tey the mentor had brought you to Jake. As all the other mentor had competely giving up on your and deemed your a failure.

netyeam " dad she getting good it not easy for everyone"

Jake " stay out of this son I'm speaking to your sister she need to take accountability"

lo'ak " well dad if you most know there are others to blame for this, the blame is not all her"

Jake " I said enough you two now stop"

y/n " dad I have been trying my best to get better in class but I don't think I'm the warrior type"

Jake " don't pull this stunt on me young lady all the other kids can do combat but you, even te children younger then you can do better"

y/n " dad I'm sorry but I don't think I have it in me for war or to hurt others, I'm scared of going to battle I'm scared dad" you are scared of going to battle as you didn't wish to kill anyone. You wish to study some of these new humans which was not liked by anyone. You always seem to do things in a way that your understood but was not the navi way.

tsu'tey " brother she can't keep up with the other trainees if this keeps up she will be holding back everyone"

y/n " I didn't mean for that to happen I can get better"

Jake " you always say that you don't mean it or to now look what is happing no one else will wish to teach you"

Jake " that times I'm cleaning up your mess and speaking to others because you means we lost more of our people and home, all of this because you are scared ... stop being childish and selfish y/n and act your age because you selfish ways are causing this all"

y/n " I'm sorry dad I not mean anything of this I don't wish to be selfish"

Jake " I don't have the this I'm the leader I have our people and your brothers training to deal with neteyam has to be ready you are wasting my time and his"

y/n " what about mom I can help her maybe I can prove my self there and maybe grandma as well"

Jake " she busy with your baby sister tuk still a child and needs all her attention, and she has her stuff to deal with and your other siblings"

Jake " leave mo'at out of this matter she has your sisters to take after you she doesn't need you"

y/n " well maybe I can help your or the humans I can be helpful dad, give me a chance I know I have mess up but maybe if you hear me out"

Jake " I don't have time for now just go elsewhere and stay away from the warriors and everyone until future notice once again, I will be apologizing for you mistakes"

y/n " I can go say sorry to the class and my mentors"

Jake " just stopp y/n you have done enough today just go else" you said nothing else everyone knew your dad loves your sibling more, then you because when they messed up it was okay but when you messed up it was bad. He will defend them more than he will defend you and that was true.

y/n " yes sir" you soon walked away it seems like everyone was listening to the conversation, you soon reached your mom and sister as they sat outside of the home with, some other mother and children by them having a good time.

y/n " hey"

tuk " sis you are home"

y/n " yes lesson got done early"

kiri " did they or did you mess up again come on sister you have to start thinking more, before you act"

y/n " I did my best"

y/n " umm can I help you all with the weaving I got better" neytiri and kiri looked at each other and soon looked at you.

kiri " sister I and mom have been working on this for months and we have to make sure the style stays good, and it and project me and mom have been trying to keep a secret for dad"

y/n " oh what is it for"

neytiri " a gift for you father is has all the families ikran on it"

tuk " all but mine"

kiri " hush once you get your ikran we will add it" you were looking over the project it had everything special about everyone, in the family well expect you.

y/n "I think you are all missing something"

kiri " no we are not everything on there"

y/n " no you are missing...." you had taken a step not trying to ruin anything but there was soon a loud rip sound.

kiri " no y/n " you soon looked down to see the image of your parents and family had been ripped in half.

y/n " I'm sorry I was making sure I didn't step on anything wrong, here I can help" you had moved out of the way trying to clean up the mess you had made accidentally, but tuk and some other kids were running around not paying attention and trip over you bow that you placed away safely, but one kid had tossed it down hoping to win the game but it was seen like you had done it. sending them falling into the ground, hurting themselves as cries let out.

neytiri " tuk"

y/n " oh tuk I'm so sorry I didn't see you"

neytiri " enough"

y/n " here let me help I can take tuk and take care of her"

kiri " enough sister please move ... move I need to attend to our sister you had hurt while not looking where you are going"

y/n " umm sure is there anything I can do"

kiri " no juts stop"

y/n " tuk I'm sorry so sorry"

tuk " it hurts"

y/n " oh tuk I'm so sorry when you are better I will make it up to you, hey hey don't we go for flight or you can have my desert at dinner"

tuk " can a hug help"

y/n " oh tuk"

neytiri " just leave you sister alone just go away for a bit, we can deal with her"

y/n " okay mom is there anything I can do while I'm gone I can get dinner or collect new materials for the project anything name it"

neytiri " become a better daughter and sister, and one of the people" you looked at you mom hurt and it seems like your sister heard it as well, but soon went back to attend to tuk who was still hurt because of you.

navi mother " you have no shame ruining your mom and sister work and not hurting children even your own sister"

y/n " I didn't mean to if there anything I can do"

neytiri " just go away y/n please just leave and don't come back" neytiri was now looking at you in the eyes and she was mad, it seems like she didn't see you as her daughter anymore. You didn't say anything else as you soon left, feeling all eyes on you getting dirty looks from the mothers and their kids. Once you were out of the view of the clan you soon started running as fast and far you legs can take you. You kept on running until you could no longer run anymore feeling the pain in your legs and feet.

y/n " I'm even a failure to my family" you didn't know where you ran to but you just wish to sit down and relax.

y/n " I can't be a warrior like the rest of my family and I will never be a healer like kiri ... I always mess up and can never do everything everyone else wants me to do it like .... I'm no true navi I'm a demon in false body"

y/n " even I'm bring my sibling into this when it not their problem"

y/n " now because of me we are losing this warrior and more lives will be lost, and now I rude dad gift he would of like so much I rude everything .... I'm selfish and childlish as well" tears were falling down your face as your felt like a complete failure as daughter, sister, and navi altogether. You even thought the human hate you as well as they will rush away and cover stuff when you came by, you were unwanted by everyone. expect your sibling, your grandmother, and spider they always love you and wanted to spend time with you.

y/n " I just wanted to be helpful and keep everyone alive and well" you soon felt something touch your forehead. You soon open your eyes to see a wood spirt you had gotten up and look at it.

y/n " hello little one are you lost" you reach out your hand as the spirt start floating over it making you laugh and smile, soon more spirts had shown up getting your attention.

y/n " well it look like you are not alone" the wood spirt had float down towards your feet and start making it way up, soon followed by other doing the same as well as the other float around you. A smile had grown on your face as this happen it was so beautiful and wonderful.

y/n " huh" it seems like the woods spirt were leading you towards something so you decide to follow them, going deep and deeper into the forest until you reached a grand spitter tree.

y/n " wow' you follow the spirts towards the grains tree as all the other trees started to glowing brighter and brighter. you soon reach the tree truck.

y/n " I have never been here what is here anyways where I'm" the spirt from earlier was floating near you, as one the tree branch was hanging low.

y/n " I'm going with you want me to grab and see what happens right, well I'm trusting you spirt and all your friends ... oh please great mother given me strength to be strong and helpful ... I just want to be there for my family and people as I feel lost and useless" you had closed your eyes and made the connection, soon open your eyes.

y/n " huh" you soon saw Thanator was trapped one of rda traps, you remember this day as you soon saw a child version of you. Who was walking slowing towards the creatures holding your blade as you walked towards the creature. the Thanator was looking at young you made and growling, as you raised up your blade looking like you were making a hunter blow when you cut off the trap from the creatures and removed and tracking device.

younger you " there you go see I mean you no harm" younger you had broken the tracking device in many piece and soon tossed it over a cliff.

young you " see all good now you are all better they will not find you" the Thanator soon looked at you and soon bowed towards you and your bow back, the creatures soon ran off into the woods. The Thanator was not the last creatures you saved from hunter traps.

y/n " I remember that day I was so proud of myself" soon another memory started playing it was other version of you from years ago . You had come across some rda scientists and one solider .

Scientist " leave us alone we mean you no harm"

younger you " I mean no harm as well"

Scientist 2 " then why are you here anyways"

younger you " I saw your fire and came to see if you need help ... you r friend is sick" you had seen the other humans laying down sweating badly and sick.

Scientist 3 " no please don't him he our friend he mean no harm, he has a family"

younger you " I'm here to help no cause anymore harm" you soon saw flower that could help and some herbs, you grabbed them and soon of metal cups starting cursing them.

solider "what going one ... she one of them what is is doing"

Scientist 3 " don't worry she her to help you"

younger you " the hot water can I use it"

Scientist " yes give her what she said" the forth scientist had grabbed the water and gave it to you, and you soon poured the water into the cup and soon walked to the man.

younger you " drink it and you will feel better" You were kneeling down towards the man as he looked at you, he soon took the cup his friend.

solider " it ever sweet"

Scientist " what did you give him"

younger you " a herbal tea that will help heal you friend he will feel better soon"

solider ' thank you"

younger you " you are welcome now you all most head back to your home, before the scouting party see you"

Scientist 2 " why are you helping us"

younger you " because I care and you all seem like you mean no harm"

scientist " are you well enough to move"

solider " yes ready to go"

younger you " here some advice the rda higher up are using you all I know you all came here for some reason, but once the rda has had it use with you they will leave you all behind"

Scientist " thank you child we will always remember this"

younger you " if you use this way you will be home befroe dark and avoid any hunters out there, the warriors and brave and will defend our homes ... I have show your kindness today where other wouldn't dont make me regret my choices" the human had looked at you soon clearing thier stuff and soon leave the area, you made sure their tracks were not followed.

y/n " I still wonder whatever happen to them after that day" you had shown kindness and help your so called enemies will others would not. You even shown kindness toward you clan members and humans even due they didn't like it most of the time. soon the memories ended and you back in the real world.

???? " you are not selfish or childish" you soon got scared when you heard a deep voice speaking to you, making you looked around to see tshaik standing near you but she seemed different.

y/n " hello have you called me here"

????? " yes I have called you here today as I have been sneaking you out since the day you open your eyes"

y/n " huh"

????? " you think you are useless, selfish, and childlish, failure I'm right" the women was walking around you as you following her every movement.

y/n " yes"

???? " that is false I have seen what you have done in the past showing kindness towards the creatures here and face the most dangerous ones, and being there for enemies you wish to understand verse hate them"

y/n " yes"

????? " you are not useless, selfish, childlish, and failure you are perfect my child as I have a dynasty made for you and you will discover more as you grow"

y/n " huh what do you mean"

???? " you have come to place that thsaik once they are in elders years can come and you are still young, that speak volumes you will be great tshaik one day"

y/n " no that is for my sister I can't take that away"

????" still caring for your family that why you will be perfect my child, you will be good tshaik and show everyone what you can do" the women was soon standing in front of you and soon tapped your forehead as wood spirts soon started circle around you, as the women disappeared as the tree starting glowing bright and brighter. The wind was blowing as well and you could hear this sweet song and soon everything had felt like it stopped.

???? " now go live your life with wonder and beauty it will not be easy, but you will do great things my child great things" soon it felt like everything had ended.

y/n " thank you" It was night time and you realized it was far to late to be away from home, your family might be worried for you. You soon raced home with a smile one your face as the spirts followed you, as the ground glowing under your feet as your feet hit the ground. While everything else glowed when you fingers touched them, you felt some happy once you reached home you were alone.

y/n " I'm home but it seems like no came looking for me ... it okay at least they are all okay that all the matters" you soon reached your home to hear and see you family having a good time eating dinner and talking, you wish to join them but you didn't after today you felt it was wrong.

y/n " I should leave it will be bad if they see me" you soon went to place you had made with your siblings and spider, you soon climbed all the way up there it was tree house that what Jake called it. You had picked some fruit while eating it, watching some the light turn. You looked out onto pandora wondering what will happen next and what was your dynasty. You had fallen asleep that night not feeling alone like past nights you felt like you were not alone. anymore and just maybe there was some others here and with the great mother that are on your side.

467 notes · View notes

myreygn · 2 months

Text

do you ever think about how sanemi's animosity towards tanjiro makes so much sense from a narrative perspective because tanjiro is literally everything sanemi isn't?

both of them lose their fathers at a very young age, only that sanemi's father was a horrible abusive jerk who inflicted severe trauma upon his entire family while tanjiro's father was the coolest guy around whose lessons continue to motivate tanjiro and impact his life in a positive way.

both of them have to deal with a beloved family member turning into a demon, only that sanemi ends up killing his mother and has to come to terms with the fact that although she became a monster he still killed his mother while tanjiro manages to guide his sister through her monstrosity and finds ways to help her keep her humanity in tact.

both of them lose their families with only one younger sibling remaining, only that sanemi and genya get separated and estranged while tanjiro and nezuko never lose their close relationship.

[spoilers below the cut]

both of them have to deal with their younger sibling being a demon (one way or the other), only that sanemi's hatred towards demons as a whole makes it impossible for him to look at genya the same way while tanjiro loves his sister all the same, no matter if she's demon or human.

both of them try to protect their younger siblings from danger, only that sanemi can't think of anything but straight up abuse to try and push genya away which remains unsuccessful while tanjiro and nezuko work together well during fights and tanjiro still manages to keep her safe.

both of them fight with the goal to keep their siblings alive, only that genya dies and leaves sanemi with a ton of guilt and regret while tanjiro and nezuko get their happy ending.

both of them are thrown into the conflict between demons and humans out of nowhere, only that sanemi spends a considerable amount of time on his own, killing demons without any assistance while tanjiro gets sent off with a hashira recommendation letter to urokodaki's where he receives a proper training and finds a new home and family.

both of them find companions along the way and form meaningful relationships with them, only that masachika dies young with sanemi being unable to protect him while tanjiro, zenitsu and inosuke stay together through everything and manage to survive even the final battle.

and a lot of this is meta knowledge, a lot of this is information that sanemi doesn't have about tanjiro. but he does have some of it and i think it's enough knowledge for me to put up this theory: sanemi envies tanjiro. because both of them went through unspeakable trauma and grief, both of them lost people close to them, both of them had to deal with similar situations.

and yet tanjiro is kind. he's friendly and good, people trust him, people love to befriend him and he inspires them wherever he goes while sanemi is bitter and nasty and simply incapable of forming and maintaining these connections in the way tanjiro is because who'd want to be friends with a cruel jerk right? and tanjiro loves to take lonely people under his wing, but not even he is willing to forgive sanemi for most of the story and i can only imagine how that must sting because no one wants to be lonely and yet sanemi can't even blame him. he wouldn't forgive himself either.

#rey talks #no wait #rey rambles #i have thoughts #demon slayer #kny #tanjiro kamado #sanemi shinazugawa #character study #-ish?#demon slayer spoilers

173 notes · View notes

youkissedareaderinthedark · 11 months

Text

Defying the Odds

Synopsis: Where the driver who was the most doubted proves everyone wrong

(in a world where christian horner would let a young, female, rookie on his team)

young female rookie reader x 2023 F1 grid minus Checo

Famous athletes always said work hard and believe in yourself if you want to succeed in your sport. It always just seemed like stuff they said for ads and brand deals until this moment, when you were about to win a world championship by doing those two things.

It started years ago, when you were accepted into the Red Bull Racing Junior Team. You need to be at least 16 years old to race in Formula 3, so you spent 2 years training until you joined the Trident F3 Team. You completely excelled, winning the Championship as a winner of 4/10 races, and was promoted to Formula 2.

You drove for Prema Racing for 2 years, and won the Championship both years. You gained a massive amount of attention because of this, and it became clear you weren’t an opportunity to be missed.

You had multiple teams fighting for you, but you never forgot how much the Jr. RBR team gave you, so you chose their Formula 1 team to race with alongside Max Verstappen at age 19.

The public had a lot of opinions to share about this, how women shouldn’t drive and you didn’t deserve your spot, but you stayed calm and let your driving do the talking for you. You got P3 in your first race and got P1 in your third. You lifted the 1st place trophy another 7 times throughout the season, one time being in Monaco, creating the most historic moment of the 2023 season.

As if all this wasn’t enough, if you won this final race, you would win the Drivers Championship.

You wouldn’t win though, without a fight from your biggest competitor who was also your teammate, Max Verstappen. Ever since your first win in Formula One, articles talking of a Y/n vs Max rivalry have been written, and it had gotten worse the closer the final race was.

One journalist went so far as to write that one of you would sabotage the other’s car to get an easier fight for the championship and that Red Bull crashes during the races leading up to the end of the season were expected.

Thankfully, the articles couldn’t be farther from the truth, as you and Max actually had a very good relationship. You reminded him of Daniel, bubbly and always laughing, so you clicked fairly quickly. You were introduced to Daniel as well, and the three of you rapidly became the best trio on the grid.

Your driving styles were similar, unafraid and determined, so you respected the other’s driving. Neither of you asked for tows, preferring fighting for the spot and feeling like you deserved it instead. The fights were also extremely entertaining to the crowd, and Christian didn’t care, as long as one of you got onto the podium and didn’t crash the cars.

All of this created the perfect suspense for tonight, Abu Dhabi 2023, the race that would determine this years winner. You and Max were tied with points and the uncertainty was killing you. The race completely consumed your mind the week leading up to it. You tried to relax by doing normal tourist stuff in Abu Dhabi, but your friends didn’t arrive till Friday and there was paparazzi everywhere.

Free Practice 1 and 2 was a relief because you could actually be in your car again, and you faced no problems on the track. The track was simple and your car made everything pretty easy for you. You saw Max a couple times and interacted like usual, but it was like the race was a dark cloud looming over your heads during your conversation, impossible to ignore.

Thank god your friends from home arrived Friday afternoon, you took them out for dinner and relaxed for a few hours. You slept easy and woke up Saturday excited but still nervous. FP3 was crucial for qualifying and you couldn’t mess it up. Red Bull used the hour to make any last minute adjustments to the car and double checked every system already set for qualifying later in the day.

Regardless of your positive feeling you had when you got back into the garage, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to all the bad possibilities that could happen this weekend. You took the time to relax in your drivers room before qualifying because going into the car overthinking is never good for an important race.

You ended up qualifying P2, right behind Max. You told yourself it was fine, that you’d get in front of him tomorrow, that you’d be even faster for the race, but a part of your mind screamed self doubt. What if you failed tomorrow? What if the car malfunctioned? What if you came all this way and worked so far just to be one position away from your dream?

You felt so out of control but you knew you needed to get a grip. This is what people expect, for you to crack under pressure. But you couldn’t let that happen. You would make everyone see that you could make it this far and more.

It was this mindset that got you through the rest of Saturday and into Sunday evening. Abu Dhabi was a night race, meaning you’d either go to bed defeated or stay up till morning celebrating.

You walked into the paddock with your brave face. You received pats on the back and calls of good luck as you made your way into the Red Bull garage. You try to get to the paddock early enough to feel relaxed when getting ready, but late enough to not allow yourself any extra time for distractions.

You got changed into your drivers suit and let it hang around your waist while you let your physical therapist relax any tense muscles in your body. Your trainer gave you a neck workout and refreshed your reflexes before leaving you to your engineers. You went over the strategy for todays race again and reminded you of some things to look out for. While you were walking back to your drivers room, you ran into Max.

“Oh, hi Max” You smiled nervously at him. “Hi Y/n, good luck today, yes?” The Dutch man stuck out his hand to you. “Yes, thank you, good luck as well” Usually your talks lasted longer than a greeting and a handshake but there was no time to be friendly right now. One of you would be crowned World Champion in a few hours. The thought alone made you put on your headphones to drown out everything around you and focus on the one thing that mattered.

It felt like you were in a haze walking through the garage to your car to start the formation lap. The atmosphere in the garage was tense, almost cautious. Formula 1 was unpredictable, there was no telling what would happen on track. “Alright Y/n, give me a good, clean, race out there. Good luck” Christian’s voice came over your radio just as you were about to leave the garage. “Will do, see you at the finish line” You let out a big breath before starting your formation lap and finally blocking out everything unimportant around you. You met your position of P2 on the track and watched as the red lights came on and off again.

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the last time in 2023.” The voice of Martin Brundle comes on as 20 drivers accelerated down the straight. Each one tried to progress early but the unswerving road did not allow much action to occur. Once DRS was enabled, you closed in on your teammate. “Y/n, remember that we are letting the two of you fight. Overtake whenever possible but do not expect an easy race” Hugh Bird, your race engineer, became audible. “Yeah, I know” You overtook Max and tried to create a gap between the two of you but you were driving the same car. This race would come down to pure skill.

Max overtook you soon enough, but you traded P1 throughout the race. The gap between you two and the next car was about 10 seconds, so you focused on Max. Each Red Bull driver had taken their pit stops strategically, but no gap was maintained. It was Lap 48/58 and you were leading, but nothing was solid.

When Max took P1 in Lap 53 and remains there till Lap 56, you begin to worry that he was going to win, that it was over for you. Until, his car hesitated a single second before going into Turn 16.

It was the second you needed. You don’t think you’ve ever pressed the gas so hard or ever been so grateful that this car accelerates so quickly. You were back in front. It was Lap 57 and you were back in front. “Okay defend here now, defend” Hugh’s voice came over, the words, “defend and it’s ours” right on the tip of his tongue. His hands began to shake as this was as suspenseful for him as it was for you.

The crowd was going absolutely insane. It was like the other 18 cars didn’t even exist because every single person was turned to the two Red Bulls. A hush fell over the track as the two red and black cars entered Lap 58. You were in front but you couldn’t celebrate because Max was right behind you. The entire lap was spent trying to keep your body from jittering and keeping your Dutch teammate at bay. Turns 11-14 were all close together and it was the perfect opportunity for him to get into P1. You were wheel to wheel into corner 15 and 16. It didn’t even matter which car was which because they were perfectly aligned.

“The two Red Bulls are wheel to wheel as they approach the checkered flag. It could go to anyone!” Martin Brundle shouted over the microphone. You didn’t know who was in front. You couldn’t take your eyes off the checkered flag. It could be yours.

“Bird, who was it?” Your entire body was shaking. The crowd went silent. No one could tell who passed the line first. The results traveled from the flag person to your garage in record time.

“Birdy. Who was it?”

“You”

“Y/N L/N! IT’S Y/N L/N! SHE’S DONE IT! Y/N L/N PASSES THE FINISH LINE AND IS THE 2023 WORLD CHAMPION” Martin Brundle is almost in tears.

“Are you- are you serious?” There was no way. “IT’S YOU! YOU’VE WON! YOU ARE THE WORLD CHAMPION” Hugh is shouting but he still sounds a million miles away.

“Oh my god-oh my god!” Your voice breaks as you say the last words and tears are running down your face. You scream and cheer as you pass your fans in your cool down lap.

The crowd goes insane. 0 to 100 in seconds. Your country’s flag is being waved and you can’t wait to wrap it around your shoulders with pride. Tears are being shed and your side of the garage is in shambles, everyone is hugging someone and shouting.

Christian’s voice comes over your radio. “Congratulations Y/n, you are the 2023 World Champion. The World Champion” Your brain barely processes the words as you radio back.

“Oh god, thank you, everyone, this wouldn’t have happened without all of you. Thank you” The dark cloud has evaporated from above your head and you feel like you can think clearly.

You bring your car to where the 1st place sign is, near the paddock and jump out of the cockpit. You stand on top of the car, cheering with all the fans looking at you from around the stadium. It’s a sight you’ve been dreaming about for ages. You finally jump down and run into the arms of your engineers. They all shout and pat your helmet and jump with you, unable to contain their excitement.

You pull away to the side to take off your helmet and balaclava, drink some water, and try to make sure you don’t look too disgusting before speaking in the interview awaiting you. Before you can though, your teammate and runner-up steps in front of you. “Listen to me” Max places his hands on your shoulders and you’re suddenly scared of his reaction.

“The media will say a lot of things, but listen to me. I am proud of you. I am sad that I did not win, but I am proud of you, okay?” He pulls you in for a hug that breaks you out of your stunned state. You would’ve never expected Max to ever say those words to you, especially because you just beat him to the title. “Thank you Max” You hugged back. You stopped crying a few minutes ago but this brought tears back into your eyes.

Charles Leclerc comes in P3, and you remind yourself to congratulate him as you walk towards Nico Rosberg, who is hosting the post-race interviews. “Y/n L/n, you just became not only a world champion, but the youngest driver to win a championship, and the first female world champion. How do you feel?”

“I feel amazing. This entire night has been unbelievable. When you dream of something for so long, it’s hard to believe it’s happened when you’re living it. I thought of this night ending in so many different ways, I can’t believe it’s ending in this one”

“If you could go back to your younger self right now, what would you tell her?” Nico would leave the more technical questions to the journalists in the media pen, right now he just wants to know your emotions. “I would tell her to keep going. That she would make it. I’d tell her to keep doing what she’s best at, and the rest would fall in place.” You blinked tears out of your eyes thinking of your younger self right now.

“Okay, thank you, congratulations on your amazing win, you drove very well” Nico tells you as he shakes your hand. “Thank you” You walk into the empty cool down room to take it all in for a second. There was a camera in there, but it was the closest you’d get to being alone. As you watch the replay of the race finish on the TV, you think about it. You were the World Champion. The World Champion.

#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #f1 2023 grid x y/n #reader insert #gen z f1 driver reader #f1 rookie reader #gen z driver x formula 1 grid

757 notes · View notes

randompoetemogirl · 11 months

Text

Analysis of Ambrosius

If you’ve read my previous posts, then you’ll know that I have a theory that Ambrosius was forced/pressured to bleach his hair at a young age to be a better poster child for The Institute. Now, I want to delve a bit more into his character.

We know Ambrosius is good right from the beginning. He encourages Ballister, acknowledges that Ballister has had to work twice as hard as everyone else, and says that the people will love him just like he does. He even encourages Ballister right before he’s about to be knighted.

Then crap hit the fan.

Ambrosius cuts off his boyfriend’s arm. He didn’t mean to, it’s literally stated that he did what he was trained to do. The Queen was attacked and he acted in reflex. Still, he feels guilty about this. He doesn’t use this as an excuse to justify himself, he KNOWS he did the wrong thing. But at the same time, is there even a RIGHT thing to do in that situation?

We then see him anxiously think about the situation in his head. “ARM CHOPPING IS NOT A LOVE LANGUAGE.” It’s very clear that his mind is racing. This is the first instance where we see some of Ambrosius’ anxiety. Very often in media, anxiety is always shown at the very extreme: Panic attacks, not being able to talk to people, not being able to lead, ect. And while a lot of people do struggle with these things if they have really bad anxiety, there’s people like me who can lead very well in a group setting, make our way through a touch conversation, and hold our own ground. But at the same time, there are days when I’m walking my dogs and I cross the street just to avoid making eye contact or saying hi to a random person I’ll never see again. Sometimes I don’t have the courage to correct someone or I can’t raise my hand in class even though I know the right answer.

Ambrosius is the perfect example of this. He’s a leader, albeit he was kind of forced to be a leader but a leader nonetheless, and openly stated his own opinions and thoughts. But at the same time, he had no idea how to deal with the crowd of people surrounding him while looking for Ballister. For Pete’s sake, he literally SIGNED AN AUTOGRAPH FOR ONE OF THEM. He could have shoved his way past the crowd and shouted for everyone to get out the way, he had every right to, but he didn’t. He didn’t even so much as raise his voice until he got to the escalator.

I mentioned this in a previous post, so I’ll copy and paste it here:

“Ballister shouting out to the waiter not to add olives because Ambrosius is allergic. Not only does this let us know how well the two know each other, but notice how it’s Ballister, not Ambrosius, who tells the waiter this. I believe that Ambrosius is a very anxious person do to all the pressure he’s been put under all his life and may find it hard to speak up for himself at times. Ballister has probably demanded that they don’t put olives on his nachos for years because of this very reason.”

I think a lot of people can relate to this. Ambrosius can lead other knights, sword fight, hunt down his ex and his ex’s adopted daughter, but can’t remind the waiter not to put olives of his food, something he LITERALLY cannot eat. Another way I relate to Ambrosius is being able to be confident/snarky in the right settings. This may be because this is how The Institute has raised him, as stated in a theory in my previous post that Ambrosius was forced to bleach his hair from a young age to look more like Gloreth. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was taught to act bold and courageous in front of the cameras too. During his knighting ceremony, he’s whoops to the crowd and even seems very confident in his commercials, but surround him with a group of people and he can’t choose the right course of action.

Even if Ambrosius wasn’t purposefully written to suffer from anxiety, I still think he’s a well written character that won’t soon be forgotten. He’s complex, he’s loyal, he’s loving, and most of all, his hair smells like lavender as confirmed by Todd.

#goldenheart #nimona film #ballister boldheart #nimona #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin

386 notes · View notes

moonlightazriel · 2 months

Text

Chapter 4: Lost in history /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: The research for a way to send her back started, but they come to the conclusion that there's only one person that can help them now.

Word Count: 2,1K

Warnings: Just our babygirl Y/N being sad.

Notes: We have some Elriel content and i admit that it feels werid writing about them but soon things will change hehehehe

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

“This is all I have that mentions other worlds.” The red headed female from yesterday's training spoke, her red hair was covered by a blue hoodie, a stone resting peacefully against her forehead. Just like Petrah wore too.

“Thank you..” She motioned for the female so she could tell her name.

“Gwyneth, but you can call me Gwyn.” She nodded.

“Thanks, Gwyn.” The female smiled at her, before spinning on her heels and leaving her alone, walking away.

That morning, Rhysand had appeared again, she had to hold herself as she stared at those violet eyes, he wasn’t like Maeve, he already proved that. He had told her that they were already looking for answers, ways of getting her back to her world. She had asked him how she could help, and that’s how she ended down there.

The priestesses walked around in silence, their dresses rustling against the marble floors, books and more books adorned the walls, the smell of dust and parchment filled the cavernous space. Aelin Galathynius would love a library like that one. The two had discovered a common interest in books during the time she spent in Orynth.

The dream of creating their own book club felt like a very distant memory now. She was rather fond of the Queen, Aelin was just amazing, and she saw her for what she truly was, a survivor, just like Y/N. So young having to deal with all of that, she admired her strength, the courage to wake up everyday and fight for the world she wanted.

She shook her head, thinking about it wouldn’t help, and she would just be sad, more than she already was. So she stuck her nose on the pages and read everything she could about other worlds.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She closed the last book with an annoyed growl. Nothing. Absolutely nothing helpful on those pages. She wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall, the whole fucking day spent in theories, nothing concrete in how to access those said worlds.

“Nothing?” A deep voice sounded, she turned her head, Cassian was standing there. “I won’t say we're having much more success than you.” She took a deep breath, getting up and stretching her muscles.

“I sat here for hours and not a single thing was useful. For a library that big, someone would think you have more information than that.” She started to follow the male.

“Thank you, I've been saying that for centuries.” He led the way towards the endless stairs that would take them back to the surface.

“How old are you exactly?” His head turned to the side just enough so he could see her from his peripheral vision.

“I’m 539 years old.” She stopped in her tracks. “I know it sounds old for such a young female like you.” He turned fully to her.

“How old do you think I am?” A smile danced on her lips.

“I don’t know, 22?” She then laughed, walking past him, starting to go upstairs to get out of that library.

“Thank you, but I'm 105.” She explained and Cassian gasped loudly.

“You’re not.” She nodded her head.

“I am. Witches tend to age very slowly.” She emphasised the world very, and Cassian found himself intrigued. Obviously they also aged slowly, but he didn't imagine the same happened in her world as well.

The rest of the way was silent, as they made their way towards the House of Wind, as Nesta had introduced yesterday. The house responsible for her warm bath and fresh clothes this morning as well. She had thanked the house quietly, but Azriel had caught the faint whispers, so used to them, thinking it was very sweet of her.

More people had joined the dinner, the smell of food lingered in the air, conversations floated around and she found herself surrounded by more strangers. A female holding a baby that looked like a younger version of Nesta. A black male with white hair, sitting by the side of a small female with silver eyes and short hair.

She greeted all of them, introducing herself and waiting for them to do the same. The male was called Varian and Amren was by his side. Feyre and Nyx were High Lady and heir to the night court. They all looked at her with curiosity, everyone seemed to look at her like this lately, even when she was back at her home.

“So you are the pretty female that the skies blessed us with.” Amren spoke. She reminded her of Lin, with her narrow eyes and deep black hair.

“Amren, will you keep what I told you in secret, please?” Morrigan exclaimed, sipping on her wine. The smaller female just rolled her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal.

“Well, I guess so.” She poked a piece of lamb. Her goblet filled with wine but she craved something else. She craved blood.

“Hopefully you had more success than us.” Feyre spoke, her sweet voice sounding like a fresh breeze. The baby slept clutched to her chest. Y/N knew she was staring at him, but she didn’t care, her memories drifting to a distant time, where a baby just as tiny as him never had the chance to live, and she paid a bitter price for her actions.

“I.. hmm…” She cleared her throat, everyone was waiting for an answer, their eyes glued to her. Her scar throbbed with the attention and she had to hold back from flinching with the pain that pulsates on the skin. “No, I have found nothing useful.” She concluded, sipping on the wine, making a frown at the taste, blood tasted way better.

“Not fond of wine?” Amren mocked, like she knew exactly what she wanted.

“I just like something a little bit different, that’s all.” She didn’t want to disrespect them in their home, Asterin would be disappointed if she did so. So she downed the wine with the food, pretended to participate in their conversations and watched as the night progressed out of the window.

“We need to check Koschei.” Rhysand spoke, this caught her attention and she started to listen again. “It’s been weeks, we need to know what he’s been up to.” The name caused her blood to run cold, she didn’t know what, but something about this creature left her on alert.

“Who is Koschei?” She asked, their heads turning to her, Rhysand shared a look with his mate, like they were having a silent conversation before he spoke again.

“He’s a powerful sorcerer bound to a lake.” He started.

“For now.” Morrigan corrected.

“Yes, for now. We want to defeat him before he becomes an even bigger problem than he already is.” She studied them, how the whole table felt tense with the conversation, like they were afraid of this thing, something told Y/N that she should feel afraid too.

“Maybe he knows something.” Nesta started. “He’s from another world as well.”

“What? Do you want to go there and ask him how to open a portal to another world?” Amren mocked and Nesta gave her a hurtful look.

“No, but maybe we can find a book about him, someone that knows his history or something like that.” She defended herself.

“Nesta is right.” Cassian spoke, hand squeezing her thigh under the table. “We’re already looking for a way to free Vassa, we can ask Lucien to try and help with this too.”

“That is a great idea. I’ll send him a letter, it’s already time for him to visit us.” Feyre chimed in, her blue eyes sparking with happiness at the thought of seeing Lucien again, it’s been months since he left with the Band of Exiles. “You’re going to love Lucien.” She turned to Y/N.

“If you think so.” Meeting more people, she was so excited for that. With a loud yawn, she excused herself and retired to her room, she had to wake up early to go for a ride on Meraxes, she could hear the winds calling for her.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I swear there’s nothing going on.” Azriel promised, but Elain still refused to hear him. After their argument the day before, she had come looking for him in the training field, just to find her glued to his back, and Azriel allowing it as she claimed.

“What I saw yesterday would love to disagree with you.” She poked her untouched food, they were in a reserved table on a restaurant across the Rainbow, he just wanted that argument to be over.

“It was just training, my flower.” He begged, rubbing his hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself, he didn’t know what else he could say to convince her. “You chose me and I chose you, despite everything, that female cannot change that.”

If he only knew how wrong he was. She looked at him with that spark in her eyes, hands clutching his scarred ones and bringing to her pink lips in a sweet kiss.

“You are right, she’s not better than me and she never will.” His shadows moved as if they disagreed, they were always quiet in Elain’s presence and he never knew why. They didn’t darted towards her like they did with Y/N more times than he could count in the short period she was there.

“Yeah, let’s just eat and go home, please.” He begged and Elain nodded.

The rest of the dinner felt bitter against his lips, his head throbbed and when he rested his hands on her lower back to lead the way home, it felt wrong, so wrong. He swallowed the feelings and kept trying to convince himself that he chose this, this is what he wanted. Three sisters to three brothers or whatever.

Elain’s hands cupped his cheek, and she lifted her body to the tip of her toes, kissing him lightly on the lips, saying her good night to him, disappearing into her room at the River House.

He closed the door behind him, flying towards the House of Wind in a starless sky, dark clouds covering the beautiful night. When he landed on the balcony, he slowly stalked towards his room, but his shadows urged him away from it, towards the library.

From the open arch on the stone wall, he could see her, a tiny nightgown covering her body, some strands falling loose from her braid. A book clutched in hands as she sat against a window, eyes glued to the sky.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He said, his voice hoarse. She turned to him, those beautiful eyes penetrating his soul. She closed her book.

“There’s a storm coming.” She raised her finger, pointing outside.

“How do you know?” Stars still littered the sky from where he could see.

“I can hear it's calling.” Azriel nodded. She had a defeated expression on her face, all he wanted to do was to soothe the furrowed eyebrows and tell her everything would be fine. “Do you think I'll ever find my way home?” Tears glistened in the moonlight, burning her eyes.

“I don’t know.” He answered with honesty, he didn’t have the answer for that, and as much as he wanted to help her, something inside him didn’t want her to go back. He shushed that part of him, hiding them in the shadows of his heart.

“I wonder if they miss me.” She looked outside again, ever since Asterin died, she felt like she lost her space in the world, like she didn’t belong anywhere, if she disappeared would anyone notice? Would they find a way to get her back? All those questions and self doubt weighed on her soul, crushing her until she couldn’t breathe. She blinked the tears away.

“I’m sure they do.” She could hear the pity in his tone, and she hated that, she knew that if she looked at him he would have that look on his face, the one everyone had when they looked at her. Manon, Fenrys, Aelin, Shearah, Elide and all of them, the same pitiful glare reserved just for her. She didn’t want to face that here as well.

So she got up, leaving the book behind and walked past him, as fast as the winds, but his warm hand caught her arm, forcing her to stop. Her head whipped back, eyes locking with his golden ones.

“I’m so sorry if I offended you.” His voice was gentle, calming.

“I don’t need your pity.” She barked in anger.

“I wouldn’t dare.” He promised, and she just nodded, freeing herself from his grip, going to her room, locking the door and throwing herself under the blankets. The skin of her arm felt warm where he had touched. And that night, after tossing and tuning for what felt like an eternity, she dreamed about that male again.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2

@roses-r-red54330 @mis-lil-red @sheblogs @hibye02 @impossibelle

@glitterypirateduck @zeroangelo13 @sekiro1310 @nelapeach14 @annamariereads16

@just-here-reading @celestialend @donttellthecats @scatteredstardustt @snoopyspace

@asterinblacksword @tsumudoll @georginat12 @skyjasper @anuttellaa

@willowpains @quinzzelx @amysangel @fightmedraco @puttyly

@lees-chaotic-brain @thisblogisaboutabook @esposadomd

#acotar #sarahjmaas #azriel shadowsinger #moonlightazriel #azriel x y/n #velaris #night court #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #worlds apart fic

144 notes · View notes

nightwolf14292 · 27 days

Text

Dick Grayson Canon Lore Stuff:

(TW for Batman stuff, like spoilers and mention of injury/death) Hello, I know very little about the canon Batfamily because I can't exactly just read all of the comics (there's way too many, and they're very expensive T-T) so instead I spent like an hour reading the entire Fandom . com entry on Dick Grayson, and this is pretty much my timeline of important events that I got from that (I'm typing this in hopes that it'll help me remember it).

Dick Grayson Canon Lore Stuff:

•From a very young age Dick Grayson was trained as an acrobat, hence his job as a performer in his family's circus act.

•When he was eight years old, he overheard a well known crime boss threaten the circus performers if he wasn't paid by the circus owner. The owner didn't pay him, and that night Dick witnessed his parents high wire snap, leading to both of their deaths. (He felt responsible for not warning them)

•He was put into a juvenile service system, because social services in Gotham were full. In this system he was often beat up by the others, which led to him eventually being put into a Catholic orphanage instead.

•Bruce Wayne adopted him, but Dick didn't want to replace his deceased dad with a 'stuck up' billionaire, plus he felt like Bruce didn't give him enough attention (Probably because Bruce was still dealing with the trauma of his own parents death and didn't like getting attached to people in case he lost them as well), so he snuck out in hopes of solving his parents murder himself.

•He met Batman, also investigating the murder, which led to him finding out that Batman and Bruce Wayne are the same person.

•They find the crime boss, but he 'dies of a heart attack' before he can be arrested.

•Since Bruce saw so much of himself in Dick, he asked the boy if he wanted to become his sidekick and Dick decided to name himself 'Robin' after what his mother used to call him.

•He was trained for six long, hard months before he was allowed to do any real missions, and he had to go through one full night eluding Batman without help before he was allowed to officially become Robin.

•For the first year or so Dick had a lot of fun with his job, and treated it as a fun adventure he and Bruce participated in together.

•That was until he had a fight with Two-Face, in which Batman and the DA were both stuck in nooses. Dick cut the rope around the DA with a Batarang, but Two-Face had crafted a double trap and this made the floor fall out so the DA landed in a pit of water in which he drowned. This was Dick's first time witnessing an on-the-job death which would serve to haunt him for years to come, plus he got himself a beating from Two-Face (Okay but like, wouldn't he have been like 9 or 10 max Jeezums- 😭🖐).

•Bruce temporarily 'fired' Dick, not wanting to see him get hurt any more.

•Dick served as Robin for a while longer, still working with Bruce and also forming his own Titans team.

•When Dick was 17 he got shot in his shoulder by the Joker, which prompted Bruce to officially fire him out of fear for his safety. Dick decided that he didn't need Batman anymore, plus he had some issues with the way Bruce did things, so he moved from Gotham to New York to be more involved with the Titans, and he dropped out of highschool.

•Bruce didn't really like this, and told Dick that if he was no longer going to work with him he would have to retire the Robin title. Dick left Wayne Manor afterwards, and handed over leadership of the Titans to Wondergirl.

•Unsure of himself and what he should do now, yet not wanting to give up crime fighting now that it was such a big part of his life, he went to find Superman. For a brief while Dick stayed with Superman, and Superman told him of a Krypton hero who had been known as Nightwing. Because of this time with Clark, Dick decided to finally become his own hero free of Batman. He named himself Nightwing after the Krypton hero, and made himself a costume based off of something his father once wore back in the circus.

•Now as Nightwing he helped lead the Titans, though his relationship with Starfire was worsening over time.

•Jason's death was a bit of a turning point in his character. Even though originally he hadn't seemed to like Jason (mainly because Jason acted as his replacement, and because of his not so great relationship with Bruce) Dick seemed to grow into a kinder/gentler person after the event.

•A while after this, Dick discovered that the mob boss who had killed his parents was not actually dead but was in a coma instead. Dick went looking for him, but witnessed him being gunned down before he had a chance to do anything for himself. Bruce claimed that he was worried that Dick would seek revenge for his parents death if he knew the truth, so he told the young boy that the mod boss was dead instead. Dick was obviously upset because of this, and his relationship with Bruce stayed strained.

•While he was still serving with the Titans, Tim Drake sought him out and asked him to return to being Robin (Because after Jason's death Bruce was going crazy without a Robin by his side), but Dick refused because of his bad relationship with Bruce and his enjoyment for his current job. He did help Tim become Robin, though.

•A lot of bad things happened with the Titans, people passed, people left, people changed, but Dick fought to stay the heart and center of the team through it all.

•Despite their strained relationship, Dick tried to impulsively marry Starfire, but the ceremony was interrupted, which eventually led to Starfire leaving and returning to her home planet.

•Bruce was brutally injured by Bane, but because his relationship with Dick was so bad and he didn't want to 'force' his son to return, he temporarily gave the Batman title to the not-so-stable Jean Paul Valley, with Tim there to help him out. Jean proved too unstable, however, and Dick returned to Gotham to help Tim deal with him. Dick decided to step away from the Titans to focus on Gotham, and the still healing Bruce asked him to be Batman until he was alright again which Dick agreed to.

•During his time acting as Batman, Dick built a great brotherly relationship with Tim. In addition, Bruce admitted that he hadn't originally asked Dick to act as Batman for him because he didn't want to force him to come back, and the two finally began to fix their relationship.

•Dick pretends to be a villain working under Deathstroke for a while, until Deathstroke betrays him and kills at least 100,000 people with a bomb. Dick tries to find and help any survivors, but is unable to because of the radiation which weighs heavily on his mind. He also proposes to Barbara Gordon around this time.

•Dick recovers and Bruce asks him to join him and his current Robin in rediscovering his roots. Dick is hesitant, but Barbara insists that he helps, and suspends their engagement for the time being.

•Dick returns to the Titan's tower, because there's someone there pretending to be him. Turns out it's the revived Jason Todd!

•While on a case, he gets buried alive by a mysterious voice that tells him he's 'supposed to be dead'. He has a hard time finding work because he's in a cast, and is having some trouble due to his injuries.

•By this point his relationship with both Bruce and Tim have improved dramatically, and he's close with both of them.

•The Titans decide to reform their group.

•Okay I'm gonna try and put this as simply as possible… Bruce was targeted by a group called 'Black Glove', supposedly going insane and running away. Dick doesn't want Tim to have to deal with everything himself, so he returns. He gets kidnapped and drugged by the International Club of Villains and is scheduled for a lobotomy, but gets out of it because Bruce's 'insanity' was made up to expose the Black Glove. Batman fights with Doctor Hurt on a helicopter, but the helicopter explodes. Batman is fine and works with the Justice League, but then is seemingly killed in his confrontation with Darkseid. In his will, Bruce begs Dick not to become Batman. Because of his refusal to become Batman, someone else takes up the job instead, calling himself Batman but using lethal methods that Bruce would never allow. This 'Batman' is actually Jason Todd, who shoots Damian and almost kills Tim with a Batarang. Dick and Jason fight and Dick shoves Jason off of a speeding train, seemingly killing him though Jason says they'll 'Meet again soon'. Dick finally decides to become the official Batman, but refuses to make Tim his Robin because according to him, he sees Tim as his equal and not his sidekick. He instead makes Damian his new Robin, which of course pisses off Tim. Tim, believing Bruce to be alive, takes up Jason's old Red Robin mantle and goes searching for Bruce. Dick moves base because the Batcave reminds him too much of Bruce, and struggles because Damian is constantly reminding and taunting him over the fact that he will never truly be able to replace his father. When he next fights Jason, Jason remarks that if the Lazarus pit could revive him, it could revive Bruce too as he's being arrested.

There's quite a bit of stuff that happens in between here, most notably the death of a young boy called Baby D which influences Dick's future character, but since I've been typing for hours:

Thinking about what Jason said, Dick takes Bruce's body from his grave and takes him to the Lazarus Pit. While it does reanimate the corpse, the revived 'Bruce' is angry and violent. This is because it was never Bruce at all, it was actually a clone of him. This gives Dick, Damian, and Alfred a similar hope to Tim, that Bruce is actually still alive. Tim brings evidence that Bruce is actually lost in time, and after a bit of digging and more evidence finding, they manage to bring Bruce back.

•Dick finally becomes Nightwing again, now with red on his costume which reflects his darker and more grim outlook on life and humanity after his time as Batman.

•Nightwing gets stabbed on a mission.

•He also, on a different mission, momentarily dies but they manage to start his heart again.

•Dick puts down his Nightwing title for a while and becomes a secret agent for Bruce, but the wiki has no info on this.

•Dick goes back to being Nightwing, finally returning to his original black and blue suit instead of the black and red one. He reforms the titans, but after working with them for a bit, but ends up moving back to Blüdhaven soon after.

•Someone is sent to assassinate Dick, and he gets shot in the head. He manages to survive, though he has amnesia and for a brief while becomes 'Ric Grayson' until he gets his memories back. When Ric tries to restore his memories he is kidnapped by the Joker who brainwashes him into believing that he was the Joker's sidekick, though he's eventually rescued and gets his memories back. After this event, he officially rejoins the Batman Family as Nightwing.

•There's no info after this.

Extra fact: While not mentioned in the fandom wiki, Dick Grayson was r[😬]ed by a female villain named Tarantula. (As in yes, he has a nice ass, but he would canonically be very uncomfortable with how some parts of the fandom oversexualize him.)

69 notes · View notes

marvels-meme · 2 months

Text

Canon worldbuilding lore on the MCU Kree to help you with your fanfic

They rule over multiple planets. Hala is the capital.

Hala's star is called Pama

In the comics there are around five known planets in Hala's system - it's unclear if Hala is 4th or 5th planet because it's been confused with another planet, Turunal.

Hala is located in the Larger Magellanic Cloud

Hala had oceans and forests (rip to those tho lol)

Leader of the Empire is called the "Supremor"

The Supreme Intelligence was basically god

The collective is one idea of the afterlife — if your brain is worthy it joins the Supreme Intelligences database when you die.

The spiritual afterlife is called the Etherplex or something idk

Their technology is somewhat water based (need more info on this)

Architecture is heavy on metal and stone and is very geometric. Buildings are detailed but there generally isn't too much furniture.

Cyan and purplish lights for a big chunk of Hala, golden lights for the Supreme Intelligence.

No hanging paintings... If you want art you have to hire someone to paint your wall lol

Starforce generally have one room apartments, I couldn't see a kitchen in them.

Stuff like wardrobes, book shelves, cupboards and drawers are more likely to be inserted into the wall to save space.

Like Carol literally lived in a single room with a bed, nightstand and a hexagonal cup. The ideal female living space.

They have hexagonal cups (I just thought that was cute)

The military is a big deal! Other respectable careers involve teaching, medicine, typically intelligent jobs that give something to society.

Kids are trained from a young age in the military. They're called "recruits". There's a deleted scene of Yon-Rogg teaching some.

The military hierarchy is likely Supremor > Accuser > Starforce > Kree Army > Non Kree Army > War slaves.

The Accusers aren't just extra bad military. They uphold the law, make arrests, hold trials, decide punishments, etc. I'd imagine that this is typically done for more important criminals or prisoners of war. That's why Dar-Benn holds an Accuser hammer as Supremor — she's upholding the law.

Kree Law is vaguely structured around the Tablets of Koth — they aren't definitive but they are the main basis.

Questioning your leaders is technically illegal

The worst crime of all is being "un-Kree".

Kree supremacy is big. In the comics it's illegal for Kree to have children with other species. They will tolerate other races if they’re feeling nice about it, but ultimately the Kree come first. This is important in the context of Carol's relationship with Yon-Rogg.

There's racism of blue Kree > non blue Kree in the comics but it doesn't appear to be present in the MCU. Keep it in mind though.

The Kree originally evolved to have blue skin because of low oxygen levels on Hala. Non blue kree came later as a result of mixing with other species. Since making babies with another species has been illegality for probably millenia, non blue Kree are now just another skin tone of the species.

Sexism isn't a thing. Yon-Rogg isn't sexist to Carol he's being racist too her lol

There are groups of noble families with some quite strict rules about battle. If a noble is cornered in battle with no way out they have to drink the special suicide juice or else they are shamed.

The suicide juice is called Odium, which means hate in Latin. If you sip it you go crazy with rage, get super strength and start trying to fight everything until it makes your heart explode

In the comics the Kree have double that of human organs — ie two hearts, four lungs. Brain is probably an exception. They have stronger bones and heavier muscle mass.

Kree blood has healing properties strong enough to bring a species with simple DNA (like humans) back from the dead but it's super duper painful and like 7/8 of the people that have received it have been given some kind of amnesia afterwards

Carol was one of those humans lol rip queen

Apparently the amnesia thing isn't even hard to do? In Agents of Shield a Kree had a tiny little hammer and he'd slap people with it and they'd loose their memories (I doubt that Carol was slapped with a tiny hammer but you never know this might help you)

Propaganda art - there are some gorgeous statues and murals in the Captain Marvel concept art.

Fashion is generally dark. Black, grey and brown for most people. It's not too complicated. White appears to be for underclothes/sleeping wear.

Well it's not too complicated unless you are the Supremor. Remember, Dar-Benn is succeeding the position from their idea of god. She's dressed to the tens and stands out the most from literally everyone. Her stuff is more detailed and metallic and she's wearing a lot more jewellery.

Also notice how Dar-Benn changes outfits literally every ten minutes. I need Marvel to stop killing all the cunty villains because I deserved to study her entire wardrobe thank you very much

A few Kree women (including Carol) have the style of one side being braided and the other let down.

The Kree are encouraged to experiment with as many genders as possible

So technically Carol Danvers lesbian sex canon

Some people grow babies in big tanks. Why? To make them strong or something idk. Carol's comic half sister was born in a big tank bc they wanted her to be strong asf to serve as an Accuser

Swear words — I only know da'st. No idea what it means

They don't have a word for candy </3

Normal space currency is called credits. Kree currency is called kreedits. If that's not the funniest fucking thing ever I don't know what is.

Kree names are "your name-family name". Eg Yon-Roggs given name is Yon, but his surname is Rogg. His daughters name is Una-Rogg.

You generally don't separate the name. Yon-Roggs name isn't Yon, it's Yon-Rogg. Obviously there's exceptions, but that's the general naming rule. It wouldn't be outright wrong to call him Yon, it would just be uncommon and slightly weird.

The Kree have beef with every species ever. They had multiple wars with the Asgardians and the Xandarians.

I've probably missed something lol

Anyways: Arab.org daily click to help Palestine 🍉

#marvels-meme #not a meme #marvel #mcu #the marvels #marvel cinematic universe #captain marvel #carol danvers #worldbuilding #actually canon!#captain marvel (2019)#the marvels (2019)#kree marvel #mcu kree #dar-benn #yon-rogg #its 1 am yay...

89 notes · View notes

androgynousblackbox · 2 months

Text

Hellsing Appleradio AU

Lucifer Van Morningstar (24 years old)

The young Lord that is the face of the Morningstar family from a young age after the passing of his parents. He woke up Alastor after the house was attacked as a last resource at 18 and has been dealing with his annoying ass since then. Before the attack, Lucifer was already pretty efficient at fencing and some hand to hand combat, but after it, and the help of the new employees Alastor brought to the house, he learns to use guns and other ways of fighting.

Charlotte/Charlie Van Morningstar (3 years old)

The little sunshine of the castle that was the biggest joy of Lucifer after the sudden passing of his wife. She always gets into unexpected situations because Alastor has to obey her just the same as Lucifer. If the little lady wants to travel on his shoulders on his monster form and climb through the exterior of the castle, Alastor has to do it. If Charlie wants him to act out her favorite portions on her storybooks, Alastor will while dreading anyone else of the staff seeing him on a princess costume. Charlie always plays as the knight or the dragon.

Alastor/Radio Demon (At least 400 years old but who knows really)

Made a deal with the Morningstar family to serve them as long he could get a drop or more of their blood as payment from time to time. He was sealed in a chamber in the Morningstar castle by Lucifer's father shortly after Lucifer was born because they feared that he being awake could attract danger to their house. He loves violence and chaos, which is why it's so hard to him when Lucifer or Charlie have him doing mundane shit like going to get groceries or cooking cookies because Charlie wanted them to. Since he is the most powerful being there, he has the assumption that the Morningstar family belong to him and is the owner of the whole place. A impression that Lucifer very much does not care for. He fucking hated Lilith the moment Lucifer showed interest on her and told Lucifer that he wasn't "allowed" to marry her, which of course meant that Lucifer marry her faster. When she dies suddenly, he didn't separate from Lucifer's side and was the main motivator to get Lucifer to came out of his room at all. He tells everyone he only cares about the food and nothing else, but begrudgingly starts caring for the two tyrants that "ruined" his existence. Charlie calls him "Allie". After Lucifer woke him up, he quickly fires the entire staff on the castle, because obviously they suck at their fucking job, and hires a bunch of people especially selected by him.

Anthony/Angel (26 years old)

The butler/bodyguard of the Morningstar, packed with at least a dozen of hidden weapons at all times, and gun expert. Previously the son of a assasins's family that trained him since birth to be the perfect killing machine, recluted by Alastor after he managed to escape. Originally nicknamed "angel" because his killings were always quick and as painless as possible. He has no fucking clue about anything supernatural and does not care. Went to work and accepted the butler training because, frankly, he had nothing else better to do.

Husker (35 years old)

Chef of the Morningstar family, expert on the creation of almost any poison you can think of and also their cure. Used to work hidden in the black market selling his products for the highest bitter and then was found by Alastor just when he was about to be caught by the police. Accepted to work there for as long it keeps him jail free. Creates his own alcohol on his free time.

Niffty (31 years old)

The maid of the house. Nobody really knows a lot about her. The only thing Alastor bothered to tell people is that one day she snapped and killed her husband, but don't worry, besides that she is completely harmless. As long you weren't a rat or a intruder that came without invitation, that is. Don't trust her with scissors, though, because she will get them dull in no time.

Cherri Bomb (26 years old)

The driver of the Morningstar. She was a racer that was faster thatn everyone else, but when an rival sabotaged her car and almost had her killed in a explosion Alastor took her out and told her he knew a place where she could drive as fast as she wanted to. Lucifer doesn't really like when she goes full speed, but she never had a single accident and one could always count on her being there when the situation require her.

Sir Pentious (30 years old)

The expert on machinery and general repair man of the house. He made all the weapons that Anthony uses, the security system for the whole castle and even modified all the cars so they would be as safe as possible. Originally was brought after he failed to get investor for one of his inventions with the promise that he could work comfortably there and receive his pay, but soon really starts liking that Lucifer is a good boss that praises what he does. He also made a few toys for Charlie to play through out the years.

Alll the staff made a pact of blood with Alastor to swear to protect the Morningstar family.

Vox Populi (???)

A cyborg priest that was awaken up by the Church to deal with the presence of demons, exorcism and other supernatural causes as the leader of the Iscariote organization. Nobody has any clue why he was a cyborg at all or how it happened. He was send to sleep when he created a cult with himself as the leader where he was carrying out human sacrifices, but he "learned his lesson now" so he is a totally reformed priest again who toooootally is not stealing the charity money destined to orphanages and he is absolutely devoted to his work only, he totally swears it, for real. Part of the reason he was woken up was a preventive measure when they find out that Alastor have been awaken again, in case the Morninstars wanted an uprising. The Church fully believes he is the only non demonic being that could probably go up against Alastor. Probably.

Valentino (34 years)

Part of the Iscariote organization. He uses a nun outfit even thought he really shouldn't have to. Raised in multiple orphanages from where he managed to escape from and expelled of at least a dozen of religious schools for many reasons. The cause of more than one priest or nun abandoning their faith and lead to sin, which people especulate is the reason why he is allowed to keep working for the Church, but has calmed down significantly since working with Vox. Any excuse to kill with the blessing of the Church is a good one, doesn't matter if they are supernatural or not.

#appleradio #duckiedeer #radioapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel au #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel charlie

73 notes · View notes

lucifers-rubber-duck · 1 month

Note

Hello, hope you’re doing well! Really loving the Hazbin posts you’ve done so far, they’re wonderful ☺️

If it’s alright, could I please request some platonic HCs with Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Sir Pentious for a slightly younger reader than the rest of the cast who’s on the shy and anxious side, very easily rattled in hell, but takes a liking to their fellow demon(s) enough that they feel comfortable around them to express themselves a bit more and start to develop a sibling/parental sort of bond with them?

Sorry if that’s a bit specific of a request, but thank you for reading!

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long Anon but I absolutely loved your ask! Shy!Reader is so me tbh. Hope you enjoy it.

𖤓Charlie

• She's mostly concerned about how young you are, not that you're a teenager or something, but the age you died is concerning since you're younger than anyone at the hotel.

• She's an extrovert so she might not notice how shy you are at first because she's just so excited to have you around that she is already showing all of her hotel to you and wishing you a good stay.

• Even with that bubbly personality of her's, it's actually pretty easy for you to feel comfortable enough around her to express your feelings, she's just so sweet like that. You feel like you can tell her all of your problems that she would listen to carefully within a day of meeting her.

• She's the type to be a sister figure, she's always trying to make you open up more with weekly trust exercises and besides her looks wouldn't hesitate to put a demon in their place if they treat you badly. She considers everyone at the hotel family, but you're the one that needs most protection out of them, so she's going to be the best host you could ask for.

𖤓Vaggie

• She's the least chaotic of the people in the hotel, she likes to solve things calmly and sometimes with brute force but only when it's necessary. Your more timid demeanor is a breath of fresh air from all these sinners full of themselves.

• She's the one that gets more rational the moment she sees you're not dealing very well with the things around, she gives you space and time to be comfortable around the place, especially because she feels that you really want to change for the better. She also calms Charlie down when she's being too excited around you.

• She wants to help you be more sturdy tho, Hell is a dangerous place and you need to fight for yourself, so she gives you private fighting lessons on basic self defense, she can get a little too aggressive while training but if you actually get hurt she'll say sorry and help take care of you.

• The way she makes you feel welcomed is very different from the others, she makes you feel safe, she protects you from Angels comments and teaches you how to stand up, she's just like an older sister that wouldn't hesitate to kill for you and has a strong sense of bonding.

𖤓Angel

• He finds you almost adorable, he probably just enjoys having someone that kinda looks up to him as an example, you almost envy his personality and how easy-going he seems to be, he enjoys the attention and praise.

• Will eventually grown attached to having you around but he's very good a not showing it, he's an actor for a reason after all, but he can still be very sweet with you and sometimes even protective, not so much, but he'll tell a demon to suck a dick if they are mean to you.

• He helps you try and lose up more, be more extroverted, he takes you to drink on bars or go to clubs so you can try to make more friends. He can easily get distracted if Cherri is also there and might not notice if you get uncomfortable at first, but don't be afraid to tell him that you want to leave, he won't be mad at you and will do as you ask.

• He really makes you feel like you belong, especially when you two are just doing skin-care and telling gossips, he feels like a older brother and you appreciate how much he takes care of you.

𖤓Sir Pentious

• Daddy issues? Naahh, this man got child issues if that's even a thing. He craves for the feeling of having a child like it's something he misses deeply without even knowing why, so the moment he realizes that you, the shy one of the crew is looking up to him he's being all clingy with you.

• He tries to look cool, something that either he fails at or his Egg Bois do it for him, he wants to make up to your expectations towards him because you're one of the little people who treat him nicely. You mainly admire him because besides being a little timid like you, he's a very intelligent inventor.

• He makes you gadgets for your self defense and makes sure one of his Egg Bois is always following you to keep you safe, they can't do much but are very useful as bait so you can run while they get attacked.

• Expect a bunch of drama and dad jokes coming from him, that's his way of trying to sound cool and reliable to you, he wants to be a good father figure or whatever figure you need and that's what makes you feel so welcomed and cared for when you're around him. Make sure to give him a hug everytime he does nice things to you, he appreciates it.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #angel dust x reader #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie x reader #hazbin charlie #vaggie x reader #hazbin vaggie #vaggie #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel imagine

134 notes · View notes

hyperfocuscentre · 8 months

Text

so following on from this post

more solangelo as parents!

Nico’s job would literally just be doing stuff for Hades. He doesn’t really get payed in the conventional way, but he has access to all Hades’ riches so they live a comfy life.

Will becomes a doctor. I don’t think he went to college or university, mostly because it didn’t appeal to him and the idea of learning something he’d been doing from a very young age felt belittling. Instead, he convinced Chiron to forge him some papers and with a bit of mist manipulation, he got straight into doctor training at a hospital or however that works (foundation program or something?).

They have twins, because I love twins. A girl named Bianca and a boy named Michael-Lee (shut up i think it rolls of the tongue).

ML (i’m not writing the whole name everytime) is trans so he wasn’t always called this, but he wanted a name that was important to his parents and he wanted them to name him so that’s what he ended up with. He loves it, he says it feels like a pop star stage name.

Nico definitely cooks the food, his signature dish is pasta. He makes it from scratch because he says the store packages are disgusting and processed junk.

Will is the one who kisses their injuries and tucks them into bed at night (although Nico obviously says goodnight and love you’s too).

I feel like they both deal with the nightmares but most of the time, it’s Will because Nico is harder to wake up. He sings them lullabies and has actually started to appreciate his voice a lot more because of this. However, Nico can be found sometimes cuddling one or both of the twins close, wiping their tears and even sometimes singing Italian lullabies that he vaguely remembers from his childhood.

I feel like Nico plays rough with them, things like violent pillow fights followed by lots of exhilarated screams and giggles. He’s never too rough though, and he’s never hurt them. He can easily tell when to stop and when it’s time to calm down and take a break.

Nico is the soft touch, he acts like he isn’t but he is. He’ll say snarky things and talk to the twins like they’re adults from a very young age (in a funny way, not a weird way lmao) but he can’t handle seeing them upset or crying. Both of them are very spoiled and any shopping trips with Nico end with them coming back, hands full of toy boxes and faces stretched into beaming smiles.

Will is the more tough parent, but honestly he’s a silly too. He may know how to discipline them when he has to, but he also jokes with them and geeks out over their favourite films and shows with them.

Apollo loves that they have twins, and often compares them to him and Artemis (mostly because Bianca has dark, auburn hair and ML is a blond).

I feel like they live in a white, picket fence area but none of their neighbors like them. They painted the white fence a soft yellow and have a giant pride flag wafting on the front. There’s exotic, brightly coloured plants everywhere and the only reason they live is prayers to Persephone and the fact the goddess herself sometimes visits.

Persephone has basically claimed those kids as her grankids, she loves coming over to play with them and loves that she can without breaking any stupid divine laws.

Hades acts unbothered but he’s been caught smiling softly at the twins or even simply at Nico and Will being disgustingly domestic. His Christmas gifts are always huge and the first thing the twins open.

They tried to take one of those professional family photos when the twins were toddlers; it didn’t go so well. Nico is blinking, Bianca is screaming, Will’s face is basically a blur and ML is growling at the camera but the glint in his eyes says he finds himself hilarious. The photo is hung up above the fireplace.

They join their names which means ML’s name is a mouthful. Michael-Lee Di Angelo-Solace. He probably has a middle name too, although i’m not sure what. Maybe Lester, for the jokes?

170 notes · View notes

melanielocke · 10 months

Text

Book recommendations: queer adult SFF

It's been a while since I did one of these posts but I'm thinking of doing more regularly. I have read a lot more new books that I hope some of you will pick up and I've made another selection. I'm reading more and more adult SFF lately because lots of YA is getting a little too young for me. But I also find that transitioning to reading more adult can be difficult, and it's not always easy to find what you're looking for. I found YA a far easier market to navigate, so I figured I'd make a post featuring some of my favorite adult SFF books.

The Unbroken & the Faithless I read recently.

This is a trilogy, with book 3 coming out most likely in 2025? Not sure actually. The series focuses on Touraine and Luca. Touraine is a conscript in the Balladaire army, stolen from her homeland and trained to fight from a young age. She is originally from Qazal, a country colonized by Balladaire, but doesn't speak their language or understand their customs. In the first book, she returns home for the first time since she was taken, to stop a Qazali rebellion.

Luca is the princess of Balladaire. Her parents both died when she was young, and her uncle is ruling as regent, refusing to allow her to be crowned Queen until she proves herself. She too is sent to deal with the Qazali rebellion. What makes Luca interesting is that she often means well and is definitely more benevolent towards the Qazali, but she's also very power hungry and wants her throne, and no matter how much she does to help the Qazali she is still the princess of the empire that colonized them, and the author continues to hold her accountable for her role in the empire and some of the choices she makes.

Luca is also disabled, she injured her leg when she was young and uses a cane.

There is a sapphic romance between Luca and Touraine. It is not really the focus on the series but at the same time it is what shapes much of the negotiating between them since Luca has a very obvious soft spot for Touraine and Touraine has to use that to improve things for Qazal.

The world is inspired by North Africa and French colonialism (in Balladaire they speak French so I'm pretty sure they're supposed to be France), and the author themself is Black and North African. The series as a whole is very political.

Next is Notorious Sorcerer by Davinia Evans

This is the first in a duology (I think?) with book 2 coming out this November.

This is set in a world where there are four different planes, and Siyon is a poor man who can delve into the different planes to get ingredients for wealthier alchemists. He wants to be an alchemist himself but can't afford the education. There's also the problem of magic being technically illegal, which means rich people can do alchemy but poor people can't.

Then one day Siyon accidently unleashes wild magic and is thrust into the world of alchemists where he wants to belong but doesn't. And there's also the matter of the four planes being instable and at risk of collapsing, and Siyon might be the only one capable of stopping it.

Siyon is bi/pan and his main love interest is a man, though this is not the main focus of the series.

Then Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh

I think I had this one last time too, but not enough people are reading it so I'm going to discuss it again.

Check out the summary, but honestly not sure if that does it justice. Some Desperate Glory is the story of a girl who grew up in a fascist cult and was raised to believe in everything this cult stands for.

The earth was destroyed before she was born, and the Majo, aliens, were responsible. Kyr has been training her entire life for revenge. She wants nothing more than to be the perfect soldier for earth. As a result, she is a terrible person and everyone hates her.

Kyr first starts questioning Gaea station when she is assigned nursery to have babies even though she is the best fighter in her mess. When her brother disappears, she teams up with his friend Avi, a queer genius who works with the station's systems and was always aware of how fucked up Gaea station is. They discover Magnus has been sent on a suicide mission and go after him, and Kyr is confronted with the outside world, including a Majo she grows close to, and has to unlearn everything Gaea station taught her.

This book has a difficult to stomach mc at first, though it is very obvious what she believes is not what you as the reader are supposed to think. But there is some wonderful character development going on in here. It's hard for her to change, and she's thrown into lots of difficult situations before she gets there, but in the end you can see she's nothing like the person she was before.

There's an amazing cast of side characters, though not a very big cast. There's her twin brother Magnus who never wanted to be a soldier and is actually very depressed, which Kyr never noticed. Yiso, the cute non binary alien Kyr develops a weak spot for even before she comes to realize Majo are people. And my personal favorite, Avi, who is an unhinged little guy who is way too smart for his own good. He's a great example of how a cult can affect different people in different ways. He doesn't believe in Gaea station like Kyr does and is aware of how fucked up he is, he experienced that first hand as the only visible queer person on the station. But he did internalize their messages of revenge and violence which plays out in interesting ways.

This edition is the Illumicrate edition of the book from April's box, which has the UK cover.

Witch King by Martha Wells is next

This is a confusing book for people who do not have a lot of experience reading adult fantasy. It has a lot of world building that is explained gradually, the book doesn't really hold your hand, so be prepared for that.

Kai is a body hopping demon. He has been betrayed, killed and entombed under water. When he is freed by a lesser mage hoping to hone his power, he kills them and frees himself and his friend, the witch Ziede.

Together, they have to uncover what happened to them, who betrayed them and what is going on with the Rising World coalition. He's not going to like the answers.

Alternating is a past timeline in which Kai and his band of allies rebel against the tyrannical rule of the Hierophants, which happened decades before the present timeline.

The strenght of this book is really in the characters and how they grow and the bonds they have with each other. I loved the relationship between Kai and Bashasa, who is the rebel leader in the past timeline in particular. It's not quite clear what the nature of their relationship was, though it is implied to be romantic and I do think Kai is supposed to be queer. He is a body hopping demon after all, and spends his early life in the body of a girl. There's also a sapphic side pairing between Zieden and her wife Tahren, who they spent much of the present timeline looking for.

The Dawnhounds by Sascha Stronach

This is a science fantasy set in a world inspired by New Zealand and Maori (I think? The author is Maori and a trans woman herself)

The main character is a police officer from a poor background who believes she's making the world better for people like her. She's already been demoted for being queer but believes she can make the police force better from the inside.

Then she's murdered by fellow officers and thrown into the harbor. Unfortunately for them, she comes back from the dead with new magic powers.

She teams up with a pirate crew with similar powers and has to stop a plague from being unleashed on her city.

This book focuses on how police functions in many modern societies to protect the wealthy and harm and restrict poorer, non white communities. The main character doesn't believe this at first but it's obvious to the reader that they're not helping anyone doing their job. Next book is coming out next year.

Last is the Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

Two books are out and book 3 is coming sometime in 2024.

This series is set in a world inspired by India. Priya is a maidservant with a secret. She is one of the few surviving temple children and still has some powers from being once born.

Malini is the princess of Parijatdvipa, the empire that conquered Priya's land. Her religious zealot brother has taken the throne and imprisons Malini because she refuses to be burned alive.

Priya is one of the maidservants sent to take care of Malini in her prison, which is the old temple where Priya grew up. Together, they can change the fate of an empire, but they can never quite trust each other.

This is a sapphic fantasy with magic but also lots of politics and I think if you like this series you'd also like the Unbroken and vice versa. I've talked about this one before but it should definitely be included on a list for adult fantasy.

I hope you can find something you like on here. All these books are not super well known and deserve a bigger audience

@alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @life-through-the-eyes-of @astriefer @justanormaldemon @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @amchara @all-for-the-fanfiction @imsoftforthomastair @ddepressedbookworm @queenlilith43 @wagner-fell @cant-think-of-anything @laylax13s @tessherongraystairs @boredfangirl16 @artist-in-soul @aliandtommy @ikissedsmithparker

222 notes · View notes

anthurak · 4 months

Text

So here’s something interesting I’ve been mulling over lately:

How exactly did Ironwood get TWO council seats? The way several characters make note of it across Volume 7 and the simple fact that the positions of ‘Headmaster of the Academy’ and ‘General of the Army’ are clearly meant to be separate positions imply that this is NOT normal. And that something unorthodox must have happened to land Ironwood in this position.

Now I think it’s easy to imagine that Ironwood didn’t gain both these positions at the same time. Rather, he was appointed through relatively normal means to one of these council seats, and then something happened that lead to him being given, or taking, the other.

So that leads us to one interesting question: Which was Ironwood FIRST? Headmaster or General? Now on the one hand, given how Ironwood seems much more focused on the military by the time we meet him, to the point of more or less viewing the academy as little more than an extension of the military, it’s certainly easy to guess that Ironwood was General first and simply started folding the academy into the military after becoming Headmaster as well.

However, let’s also consider the fact that Ironwood kinda SUCKS at the whole ‘military command’ thing, repeatedly making blunders and being outsmarted and outmaneuvered by others. Remember that as early as Volume 2, he had to be reminded by Ozpin of the value of something as basic as reconnaissance. I imagine it’s just as, if not more likely that being General of the Army was a position that was suddenly dropped on Ironwood, one that he was not actually trained or properly prepared for. And that his putting so much focus on the military is a case of Ironwood overcompensating (something Jimmy is already WELL known for). His way of convincing everyone, especially himself, that ‘Yes, I am definitely deserving and very capable of this job! I’m a GREAT general! Look at all these general-things I’m doing!’

Also note that despite viewing them as part of the military, Ironwood shows clear favoritism to huntsmen and huntresses, viewing and presenting them as the ‘elite’ and ‘best’ of the military. Not to mention he clearly seems to have headquartered the Atlas Military IN Atlas Academy. To me, that all speaks to Ironwood having been Headmaster first.

So that brings us back to the original question: How did this all happen?

Well here’s a little hypothetical scenario I cooked up:

About 20 or so years before the start of the show, the aging general of the Atlas Military dies. Now this is a serious problem because despite being a pretty great and well-liked leader, they never bothered to train a proper replacement. They may have several subordinates running various branches of the military, all capable in their own right, but none with the training, knowledge or experience to really take over. Worse still, everyone quickly notes that this could quite easily lead to a power-struggle and in-fighting between several different factions.

Into this dicey situation steps the Headmaster of Atlas Academy, a longtime friend and confidant (heck maybe even lover) of the late General. Someone who is just as experienced and well-respected as the general, and even has a great deal of experience and knowledge about the Atlas Military, thanks to their long and close relationship with the late general. The Headmaster volunteers to take the council seat of General of the Army, something which basically everyone agrees is the safest option.

However, the Headmaster also believes that it would not be reasonable for them to hold both the position of Headmaster AND General. Thus, they elect to step down as Headmaster. In their place, they appoint their protégé: A young but talented and determined huntsman by the name of James Ironwood.

HOWEVER, just a few years later when Ironwood is just getting used to his new position as headmaster and also being part of the whole ancient conspiracy protecting the world from Actually-Satan Goth Mommy, his mentor and predecessor-now-General ALSO dies suddenly. Perhaps in battle, perhaps in a tragic accident, or perhaps in a… ‘‘tragic accident’’ (pay no attention to the innocently whistling Salem in the corner), and of course they also have no clear successor/replacement (I like to think this General actually WAS smart enough to start training a successor, it’s just that trainee happened to die alongside them).

And so, with uncertainty and potential chaos brewing, Ironwood decides that HE'LL be the one to step up in Atlas's time of need and fill this vital role, just like his mentor did! Buuuuttt he'll also remain as headmaster too. It's no problem! He can handle BOTH jobs! He was hand-picked by his mentor and told he was their best and brightest! (Notice a pattern here?)

And people are... generally okay with this because hey the military and the academy have always been pretty close and Ironwood was hand-picked by the last guy so he has to know what he's doing, right?

With this, Jimmy Ironwood throws himself simultaneously into one job he might not have been the best fit for AND another job he DEFINITELY wasn't a good fit for.

#rwby #rwby analysis #rwby theory #rwby character analysis #james ironwood

52 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

bluelakeinteriors

Bluelake Interiors

cabriosalmibar

CABRIOS EN ALMÍBAR

literacentre

LItera Centre

lo-que-sabemos

Letras Reales.

primalsims

V I O L E N T D E L I G H T S