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hassedah · 9 months

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Do you think anyone is left handed? XD ooh, how does their handwriting look like? I have a hc that Aaron has dysleyia and thus never learned how to read fluently. But he still likes to read sometimes x) What are yours?

How do boys write?

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

Here is the headcanon you requested, I hope you enjoy it! ^^

I like the idea of Aaron being dyslexic. What's more, I doubt he learned to read and write as a child. It wasn't common at the time and Aaron was born at a rather complicated time in medieval history (between war, famine and a plague that had been over for a few decades but still had consequences). So I doubt that his little mother would have found the time, money and opportunity to teach him to read and write (although she would have had to know how to read and write herself, and given the literacy rate among women at the time, that's highly unlikely). Aaron must surely have learned to read and write later, perhaps by joining his wolf pack.

Dyslexia would probably not have been detected, not only because the word didn't exist, but also because someone who had difficulty reading and writing wouldn't have seemed surprising.

However, Dyslexia could be detected at the manor. If Ethan has any knowledge on the subject it would be possible. If not, with a dyslexic MC themselves. I think that would be the most coherent because I can't think of any reason why Ethan should have been interested in the Dys disorder.

Take care of yourself and have a nice day! ^^

Vladimir :

Vladimir is right-handed, but he can write with his left hand if necessary. His handwriting is not disastrous with his left hand, but it is even slower than when he writes with his right hand.

His handwriting is beautiful and neat, but he writes very slowly, even when he's in a hurry. This is because he needs to concentrate a lot to have a neat handwriting. If he tries to write faster his handwriting tends to become illegible (something his teachers used to reproach him for when he was a child (while asking him to write faster)).

He writes quite small. As a result, he generally doesn't take up much space on a sheet of paper. His letters are very tight and his handwriting tends to lean to the left of the page. He can write in Braille. He learnt it so that he could talk to Raphaël when they were still exchanging letters.

He always signs with his surname, which is rather unusual for a vampire given that the majority of them only sign with their first name, but Vladimir is incapable of not using his, it's far too important to him to give it up.

He is the one in the manor who masters the most different languages, especially when it comes to the written word (this is due to his education). He can easily read and write texts in French, English and Italian, as well as German, Hungarian and Latin. He makes very few spelling mistakes in these languages and is usually the one to go to if someone has a grammatical or spelling question. He can also read Old English. He also reads Russian and Ancient Greek easily (although with a little more difficulty for the latter).

As he is very clumsy, writing requires a lot of concentration (he probably suffers from dyspraxia but has never been diagnosed for this). But that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy writing. In fact, he loves writing. The other members of the manor have already offered to buy him a typewriter so that he can continue to write his stories with less fatigue, but Vladimir thinks that the quality of his writing is not worth the expense.

Béliath :

Béliath is right-handed. He can write with his left hand if he really needs to, but in that case he writes very badly, much to his dismay. So if he gets injured and can no longer use his right hand, he will usually ask others to write for him (and the best choice is Ivan or Vladimir).

Béliath writes mainly in cursive and his handwriting is quite ancient. He's not particularly aware of it, because that's how his sister taught him to write, several centuries ago, and he's never thought of changing the way he writes, even less since the people at Moondance have been complimenting him on the beauty of his handwriting. It's true that his handwriting is very pretty and rather neat, and the letters are spaced far enough apart not to be unpleasant to read. He sometimes boasts about it to the others at the manor, and it has to be said that he easily has one of the most beautiful handwritings.

He writes rather quickly (no doubt because of the invitations to his parties, which he has to write by hand since Vladimir refuses to buy a computer and a printer), while keeping his handwriting legible for everyone. His handwriting tends to lean to the right of the page.

Its writing is neither too small nor too large. The letters are easy to read and different enough not to be confused with each other when reading.

Like most vampires and supernatural creatures, he signs with his first name. He doesn't really have a surname anyway, unless you consider Son of Asmodeus to be a family name. His signature is rather complex, with a lot of interlacing around his first name, which makes for a rather complicated signature to reproduce.

He can write in several different languages with varying degrees of spelling ability. He has a perfect command of the demonic language his sister taught him, he can write in Latin and his French and English are not bad (if you ignore the fact that he never uses accents in French). As for the rest, he generally speaks them much better than he writes them.

Ivan :

Ivan is right-handed and can't write with his left hand. It's illegible every time. He tries to practise, though, because he thinks it's cool to be able to write well with both hands, but he can't really do it. If he gets injured and can't write with his right hand, he'll try to write with his left before giving up and asking Vladimir or Beliath for help.

His handwriting is simple, not pretty, but perfectly legible for everyone. It's a quality he really appreciates, because Aaron has already told him that he prefers his handwriting to Beliath's. Ivan has rarely been so proud of himself, after all, everyone in the manor recognises that Beliath's handwriting is pretty.

He can write quickly when he needs to, but this affects the legibility of his handwriting, so he avoids doing so most of the time. He also has a tendency to write quite large, which means that he generally needs a lot more paper to write a text than the other members of the manor.

He has asked Vladimir and Raphaël to teach him to write and read in Braille. He still wants to be able to communicate with Raphaël, even if he leaves the manor, and he would like to be able to read the little stories that Raphaël writes himself and not always have to ask Raphaël to read them for him. He still has a bit of trouble reading quickly, but he's getting better at it, although writing in Braille is still very difficult for him.

He has kept the signature he had before his death, so he continues to sign with his surname, signing with his first name seems strange and… unpleasant. It's not that he doesn't like his first name, but he thought he'd be using his family name signature for decades to come, and having to give it up so soon is still too painful for him.

He can only write in French, although Vladimir persists in trying to teach him at least English (at first Vladimir wanted to teach him Latin). Ivan makes relatively few spelling mistakes (which he's proud of, given that Ethan makes more spelling mistakes than he does in French).

Aaron :

Aaron is normally left-handed, but at the time he was born it was very much frowned upon. So he was forced to learn to use his right hand to work, write and fence, which didn't help his handwriting, which was already difficult to read, and he was much more awkward using his right hand to fight with a sword. Today, he has stopped using his right hand for writing and fencing and has become much more skilful.

He had to concentrate to achieve a beautiful handwriting. The shapes of his letters are simpler than Beliath's because he favours ease of reading over beauty. He also writes quite slowly and never tries to write faster. He knows that writing faster only makes his text more illegible.

Like most supernatural creatures, Aaron signs with his first name. His signature is quite simple, and he sees no point in trying to embellish it with interlacing or lines. For him, it's a waste of time and doesn't fit in with his idea of a signature that should remain legible. After all, with all the interlacing that Beliath puts around his first name, he sometimes finds it hard to read his signature.

Aaron speaks far more languages than he writes, particularly Elvish, and is the only member of the manor to do so. He has a tendency to make a lot of spelling mistakes, but in his defence, between language changes and spelling reforms, he never knows where to turn. He barely has time to understand a spelling rule before humans are happy to change it straight away. He only spells Spanish. For the rest, he always asks Vladimir.

Despite the difficulties, Aaron loves to write and read poetry. Along with Raphaël, he probably owns the largest number of poetry collections. However, he is quite precise about the books he looks for: the text must not be too small and the lines must be spaced far enough apart to be pleasant to read. That's one of the reasons why he doesn't really like Vladimir's old books: the writing is too small and he has a hard time distinguishing between the lines.

Raphaël :

Raphaël is totally ambidextrous, but as a child he was left-handed. His parents insisted that he write with his right hand, but he didn't really want to, so as soon as they weren't watching him he would write with his left hand again. He eventually learned to use his right hand for writing and fencing, but this was only to surprise people who thought he was only left-handed.

When Raphaël was writing in cursive, he loved writing poetry, especially for Margarita and Alessio, who regularly received poetry from Raphaël. He still loves to write, but now he uses a slate and stylus to write in Braille. In fact, he always carries a slate and stylus with him in case he needs to write down an idea somewhere other than his bedroom or the library. The problem is that he always ends up forgetting the paper somewhere.

He found Braille much easier to learn to read than to learn to write. This is because to write braille text, you have to write it the other way round, as the dots are made on the back of the page. It wasn't at all instinctive at first and he got it wrong more than once. Now he's quite happy to be teaching Ivan to write in Braille.

He always signs with his first name and his signature hasn't changed much, but it's still complex to reproduce. There is a lot of interlacing around his first name and the capital R is huge compared to the other letters.

He likes to exchange messages with Vladimir and Ivan, as only the three of them can read them, they usually use them to prepare surprises for the others or to complain that so-and-so has forgotten to clean up again or that Ethan keeps slamming doors.

Raphaël is not bad at spelling and grammar, not as good as Vladimir, but unlike Vladimir, he doesn't read grammar books for pleasure. He can speak more languages than he can read and write. But he reads and writes easily in English, Latin, Italian and French.

He reads a lot, and is one of the biggest readers in the manor. When he first arrived, he only had Braille books, which limited his reading possibilities because they were big books and didn't always cover the subjects that interested him. The arrival of Ivan, introduced him to audio books. He listens to a lot of them now, especially romance novels, and loves the fact that he can listen to books while lying comfortably in bed or cooking.

Ethan :

Ethan is left-handed and he really can't write with his right hand. It has to be said that it never occurred to him to try, and his parents never tried to force him to write with his right hand either. If he gets injured and can no longer write with his left hand, he always asks Beliath to write for him.

Ethan's handwriting is not legible. His "a's" look like "e's" or "o's", his "u's", "i's" and "n's" also look very similar, he never dots his "i's", so they can also be mistaken for "l's", and when he writes in French, he doesn't use the slightest accent, whereas he does in Finnish. It's an ordeal for everyone in the manor to reread what he's written, and Aaron doesn't even try anymore. The only one who manages to read it is Beliath.

He writes very small, which doesn't make it easy to read his handwriting, and he also writes quite quickly. He doesn't like writing anyway, his texts are full of abbreviations and drawings to speed things up, and he's the only one who can decipher the notes he takes. If he can do maths for the sake of doing maths, sitting down to write is an ordeal for him. He doesn't have the patience for it.

Like most vampires, he signs with his first name, a habit he picked up fairly recently after arriving at the manor. His signature is rather simple, with few lines and no interlacing, he framed it with just two lines. The main thing for him was that it was quick to make.

He is quite good at spelling, although his handwriting is not very legible. He writes and reads texts easily in Finnish, English, German and French. He can also read a simple text in Latin… if he has no choice, really, no choice.

He has no idea why everyone finds his handwriting difficult to read. He finds that what he writes is always perfectly legible.

Neil :

Neil is right-handed. He can write with his left hand, he even writes quite well, but he doesn't feel comfortable with it at all. So he will always write right-handed unless he really has no choice.

He's always had a nice handwriting, and that's even truer now that writing has become easy and enjoyable. Before, writing wasn't really something that could be described as enjoyable, given the difficulty of the task. He generally prefers to use a beautiful fountain pen for writing, and doesn't hesitate to buy the most expensive ones. He always has one with him in a small box and several in his desk drawers, and tends to change fountain pens according to his mood.

He always writes in a cursive script that looks rather ancient. There is a lot of curl, especially in the capital letters. His letters are easy to distinguish from one another and the words are spaced far enough apart not to give the impression that the text is cramped. His handwriting always leans very slightly to the right.

His signature is elegant and simpler than his usual handwriting. He always signed with his first name.

He has the impression that the rules of spelling and grammar are constantly changing, as are the meanings of words. He tries to follow them, though, because he doesn't like making mistakes, but he gets tired of constantly having to unlearn what he's learned.

The language he knows best is still Irish, and although he has completely lost the habit of speaking Old Irish, he can still read it easily, as well as Middle Irish and Modern Irish.

He also reads and writes in many other languages without difficulty. The languages he knows best apart from Irish are: English, Greek and Ancient Greek, Latin, French, as well as German, Italian, Spanish and Scottish Gaelic. He can also read and follow a simple discussion in Arabic, Mandarin and Russian. To his dismay, knowing so many languages is more of a problem than anything else, and he tends to switch languages when he can't find the right word in the one he spoke before, which means he loses most of the people he's talking to.

Léandra :

Léandra is left-handed. However, she can write with her right hand if she needs to. Before teaching Beliath to write, she had never written with her right hand. She forced herself to write with her right hand, seeing that it was the one her little brother used all the time; she wanted it to be easier for him to copy her movements that way.

She doesn't really take care of her handwriting. However, if she forces herself, she can have very pretty handwriting, but it's not something that interests her. For her, writing has to be practical before it's pretty; she writes to get a message across or to give information, so she doesn't really see the point of trying to turn it into a work of art.

Léandra is used to writing fast and big. She doesn't think writing should take up too much of her time. In fact, she's never understood how her little brother could enjoy spending so much time writing beautiful letters.

She always signs with her first name and her signature is quite complex. There's a lot of interlacing that surrounds her, like a shield around her signature.

She is quite good at spelling, having taught Beliath to read and write in several different languages, including the demonic one.

She is fluent in several different languages, written and especially spoken. She can write and read demonic, English, Italian and Latin texts with ease. For the rest, she much prefers an oral discussion. This is not to say that she would be unable to write in other languages, just that she sees no point in learning their spelling if she can manage in an oral discussion.

Farah :

Farah is right-handed, but she can write with her left hand if she has problems. However, this affects the quality of her writing, which is harder to read.

Her handwriting is simple but neat. Her brother taught her to write, shortly after they left home. She's happy to be able to read and write, of course, but writing has never been an activity she's been keen on: sitting down for several minutes to write a letter always seems horribly boring to her. Whereas reading, may not be her favourite thing to do, but she'll never turn down a new book, especially a fantasy one.

Her letters are mainly in block letters, as she finds cursive writing too time-consuming. She generally writes fairly large and fairly quickly.

Her signature is very simple: she signs only with her first name, without adding the slightest line or interlacing around it. She clearly doesn't see the point and doesn't want to spend any more time signing than she has to.

As she has travelled a lot with her pack, she speaks and reads a lot of different languages, but this is less the case when it comes to writing. In any case, she doesn't always have the necessary writing materials with her and she always loses her notepads or pens when she does have them. She can write Latin and Spanish fairly easily, but the rest is much more complicated. She rarely masters the written word in other languages, even though she can read them. For example, she can read texts in English, Italian and French without being able to write in those languages. And although she can hold a discussion in Arabic, Swedish and German, she is unable to read or write a text in these languages.

#Moonlight lovers #Moonlight lovers Vladimir #Moonlight lovers Béliath #Moonlight lovers Ivan #Moonlight lovers Aaron #Moonlight lovers Raphaël #Moonlight lovers Ethan #Moonlight lovers Neil #Moonlight lovers Léandra #Moonlight lovers Farah

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 1 year

Text

The Downpour

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 4: Back to Back / I'm Sorry

Prompts: I'm sorry, downpour, [accidental] love confession

Rating: K/General

Setting: A few decades after the end of BLEACH

Synopsis: Is this how things are now? She clutches the umbrella tighter. How long is she going to keep her distance from him? Until he comes to her? Until she plucks up the courage to speak with him?

AN: oh no, I'm already running late with submisisons! XD

I decided to create something for Hitsuhina Week and for @yearoftheotpevent's challenge. In the end, I got a fic that I feel is a little out of my ball park but I still enjoyed writing! I hope you all enjoy it just as much!

______________________________________

Momo rushes between market stalls and shops on the way back to her division. The rain had started a few minutes ago, and although gentle now, she guesses by the darker clouds in the east a downpour is coming.

The Rukongai residents are also rushing about, but some have a moment to look at her umbrella in bewilderment, likely thinking they’d never seen any parasol like it before. It had been a very unusual gift from Shinji on White Day, but is now proving to be useful.

She reaches the gates surrounding the Seireitei five minutes later. Passing through them, she almost laughs at the irony of where she is. If she takes the shorter route back to the Fifth Division, she’ll be passing the Tenth Division. She didn't like how quickly the clouds are creeping across to the Seireitei, and she decides to risk it.

She comes across the occasional Shinigami rushing back to their barracks, one of which she manages to say a quick greeting to as they run past each other and laugh at their predicament.

The insignia of the Tenth division looms in the distance, painting on to the main barracks and standing tall above most of the buildings surrounding it.

As if it were a sign, she slows her steps to a stop at a crossroad when she senses Toshiro reiatsu. Whisps of it radiate from around the corner. He’s just outside of the of his division, it'd less than a minute before he reaches the main gate's entrance. Knowing him, he’s been out training and was taking his time returning to the division.

She has no doubt he’s sensed her too, but she knows why he hasn’t made a move to come and find her.

She winces at the thought of what happened just over a week ago. Her mind was hazy with a fever, and she’d been visited by Rangiku and Toshiro. Eventually, Rangiku left, and Momo stops the memory there. Despite the state of her mind, she remembers the next part too vividly, and if she goes any further, she might just die from embarrassment.

She shakes her head. Things can’t keep going on like this. Her heart starts to race at the thought. Is she really going to do this right now? The rain never bothers him, but she wants to get out of it as soon as possible. Still…

Forcing out a long exhale, she peaks around the corner with a stealth she normally reserves for missions. To her relief, his back is turned. He walks away from her in at a slow pace, his footsteps barely heard above the rain hitting the ground and roof tiles.

He may have sensed her, but she can still walk away, take a slightly longer route and avoid what will inevitably an awkward encounter. Now isn’t the right time, not in weather like this. She straightens and begins to walk with quiet steps to pass him. She only has to make seven strides and she’ll be out of sight. He won’t look over his shoulder, not if he wants to risk capturing her gaze. And if he is looking at her right now, she doesn’t see it, her gaze focused straight ahead.

She’ll be back at her division in ten minutes, and this encounter will never happen.

Is this how things are now? She clutches the umbrella tighter. How long is she going to keep her distance from him? Until he comes to her? Until she plucks up the courage to speak with him?

Despite herself, she stops out in the open. Slowly, she turns her head to him. He has to know she’s there, but he hasn’t looked back. And there’s something about the seeing him walk so slowly away. Is he giving her space? Or does he not want to talk with her?

He always puts others first, even if means he’s alone.

Her heartaches. How can I keep doing this?

She pivots and rushes to him. Her footsteps smack wetly against the pavement and make small splashes. She fights against the apprehension trying to tighten her throat and calls out, “Shiro-chan, wait!”

Toshiro flinches, perhas in deep thought before she called out. He comes to a stop and looks over his shoulder, eyes wide. “Hinamori?”

As she nears, she slows to a walk and tips the umbrella to come over his head. She hasn’t planned anything to say, so she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “You should stick to shelter, you might catch a cold.”

His usual expression returns. She can sense an eye roll, but he instead turns his gaze off to the side. “It doesn’t bother me.”

Not even a reprimand for calling him ‘Shiro-chan’; somehow, that disheartens her. “I-I know…I guess I --”

The rain buckets down over them, slapping against the ground and soaking their tabi, waraji, and the hems of their hakama. Momo gasps from the cold and almost loses her grip on the umbrella. She looks up at the sky in astonishment. “It happened so fast!”

Toshiro doesn’t appear all too surprised by the sudden change, but his eyes are back on her. For a second, she’s taken back to that moment over a week ago, to the concern he showed while he replaced the cloth over heated forehead with a fresh one; one that was much colder than the last, and it was because of him. She always…

She shakes her head. This isn’t the time!

She resists the old childhood habit of grabbing his wrist and taking him to nearest shelter; he always had the choice to shake her off, but he never did.

Instead, she gestures to and takes a few steps towards a nearby awning. “Come on, let’s take cover until it passes.”

_____________________________________

The rain turns into a downpour, thumping against the roof and sweeping the autumn leads from view. The sheets come down so thick it’s hard to make out what’s a few meters in front of them. For Momo it’s soothing, and it’s perhaps the reason she’s able to stand next to Toshiro right now without the awkwardness that has a norm for her.

She glances over at him. They’ve been standing here for more than five minutes without a word spoken between them. With the exception of how tightly his arms are folded into his sleeves, he looks otherwise unbothered. His gaze is soft, focused on the rain. He’d hesitated to join her under the shelter, but eventually same to stand next to her – albeit with a gap between them.

This feels so unnatural for them, but she instigated this, and she’ll see it through somehow.

“I haven’t seen rain like this in years,” she says.

She almost regrets breaking the silence, feeling she had disturbed the tranquility Toshiro had engulfed himself in.

Momo lets her nerves get the better of her and she rambles, “I guess you would’ve sensed it this morning, huh? With your powers to detect the weather, I mean.”

He shrugs flatly with a sniff. “I didn’t really notice it.”

Her shoulders fall at his indifference. “I’m sorry for making you sick. Rangiku-san told me you had a fever for a few days.”

“Don’t be, it might not have even been because of you.”

She clenches her fist and bows her head to him. “I’m also sorry I didn’t visit you. You came to see me, afterall.”

“It’s fine, as lieutenant you have to focus on your work first.”

Why did that hurt? Was it because of the matter-of-fact tone of his voice? The fact he brushed it off?

She purses her lips as she raises her head. “And I’m sorry about what I said, too.”

Finally, a crack in his demeanor. Even though it hadn’t been her goal, she can’t help but be a little relieved when his frown twitches, the corners of his lips tighten, and his eyes widen.

Still, she now has the awkwardness of bringing it up.

“I-I don’t know what I was thinking, it just came out,” she rambles on. “I was really sick and didn’t really know what I was saying. If you had the same fever as me, then you know how addled your mind could get.”

Still nothing from him, just a wide, unblinking stare. Rain drops that had been stuck to his face run down the sides and fall of his jaw. A spike of hair flops to one side. Still, he says nothing.

Was he remembering that moment?

It comes to her. She watched him as he faintly smile when she got him to get her sketchbook to show him her latest works. He’d recently started caring about her hobbies, would ask questions about them every now then – what book she was currently reading, what she had drawn recently.

Something about that moment, the way the sun came filtering through her window and dousing him in golden light. It highlighted his eyes to a bright blue. She’d always loved his eyes, never able to name the shade of blue-green they were.

Fatigue had started to set in, and he’d replaced the cloth on her forehead. He was standing to go. She didn’t want him to go just yet. They hardly saw each other these days. And she always loved his kindness, it felt like a side of him only she and a few others got to see upfront and unguarded.

She was tired, and her mind a haze. It slipped out, and despite how raspy her voice was, it was clear to both of them.

I love you.

For a instant, she’d thought she’d only said it to herself, but at his shocked expression, she knew he heard. The air around them had been shattered, once warm and comforting, to something disorientating, as if the world had tilted on it’s axis. Her face aflame, she tried to take her words back, but he stuttered something out, and left.

He has that same shock and disbelief right now, and all she wants is to pretend her words weren’t real. She doesn’t blame him, she can’t believe confessed something so heartfelt and bold accidentally. Her confession had been unintentional, but what she’d uttered was the truth, and he deserves to know that now.

“…The truth is, I’d hoped to tell you another time. I’m not exactly sure when that would’ve been, but…I meant what I said. It’s how I feel.”

His frown returns, and there’s a subtle shake of his head.

Her heart clenches. She doesn’t know when, but at some point, she’d hoped he felt the same way. A small part was even sure that he did when she reflected on how he’d been acting towards her last few decades – he smiled and laughed more, remembered her birthday and gave her gifts, and even made her ice roses for White Day several years in a row. But now she’s sure she’d misinterpreted everything.

“It’s all right if you don’t feel the same way.” I can live with it, she tells herself. And somehow, she knows deep down she could. It would take a while, but she’s certain she can put these feelings aside and come to see him as just a friend again. Surely she could, she’d done it before for others…

But the thought of doing that makes her want to cry. She bites the inside of her lip. This was a bad idea. What was she thinking? She’d let her nerves and worry get the better of her. She wants to be mad at him, for keeping his distance and for not saying thing, but she can only be angry at herself.

She bows to him. “I-I’m so sorry, this was a bad time to talk about it. I should’ve given more thought to this before I came and spoke to you. P-Please forget that this happened.”

She feels like a child, running away from her problems when they become too big and nebulous. She can’t stop the fresh have of embarrassment, and tears mist in her eyes. She starts to reopen her umbrella and step out from under the awning.

“Wait.” His voice comes out urgent. Momo keeps her gaze on the ground and her grip on the umbrella tight. For several seconds, all she can hear is her heart beating in her ears.

Toshiro looks alarmed, his hand even reaching out to her. As if just realizing this, he quickly draws it back to his side and his expression softens. “It’s not what you think.” He tries to school his expression to his usual stoicism, but he fails. “I’m sorry for leaving things that way. I just…didn’t expect it.” He swallows. “Any of it.”

She frowns, and with some hesitation, asks, “What do you mean?”

He doesn’t answer, and she knows he’s trying to find the right words. He might be more expressive than he used to be, but he still struggled to articulate how he felt sometimes. A part of her screams to just run away, because what he has to say may just cause her more humiliation or break her heart.

But she hasn’t come this far, today or to this point in her life, to run away from his side because of this. So she closes the umbrella again and returns to his side, closer than before, and waits.

Eventually, he sighs. “I never expected you to…feel that way. I don’t understand how you can feel that way. I don’t understand why me.”

Momo can’t help but tilt her head to one side. “Huh?”

Her confusion baffles him. “Don’t make me explain! It’s already -”

“I’m sorry, but, well…why not you?”

He’s stunned, opening and closing his mouth, trying to say something but has been left speechless. Eventually he shakes his head. “I always thought you would be someone with else.”

Clearly he didn’t want to answer the question, but the look on his face tells her everything she needs to know. He never saw her being with someone like him; he saw her with someone like herself.

She knows he takes pride in being punctual and organised, it’s perhaps the only positive traits he’s aware he has. Still, even after all these years, he can’t see the kindness he possess, or the thoughtfulness he displayed when she was vulnerable. He doesn’t see the way be contemplates things and takes his time to find the right words so he doesn’t come across as brutally honest. He doesn’t see the selflessness he shows in the smallest ways; where once he put other before himself because he thought another’s life was worth more than his, it’s now a virtue to him.

He's the constant, a throughline in her life, and she has seen him change and grow, just as he has with her. He’s seen her at her ugliest and most raw, and he never ran away. He stayed, he cared, and she loves him for that and so much more.

She could tell him all of this, compliment and reassure him until her voice disappears, but if he doesn’t believe it himself, it won’t do either of them good. No, now she just needs to keep it simple.

She smiles despite the rising embarrassment. “I l-like you because you’re you, Hitsugaya-kun.” Not as bold as her initial confession, but still true all the same.

If not for how serious this situation turned out to be, she would’ve teased him for the blush that colours his cheeks and the way his lips purse as if he’s tasted a lemon. He looks away and says something under his breath she doesn’t hear.

As the seconds tick by, she can’t ignore the building dread. “This changes things between us.”

Her words snap him out of his embarrassment, with his eyes becoming half hooded and a sigh deflating his shoulders. It takes him a while to calm his expression, but the blush still remains. "It doesn't."

She could weep in relief, but she manages to keep her composure. She goes to speak, to reaffirm that he doesn’t have to feel the same way – because knowing he avoided her more because he didn’t understand and not entirely because of her feelings calmed her – but his gaze stops her.

His eyes are soft and steely at the same time, tender and determined. He always has a lot going on under the surface, and she feels privileged to be one of the few who gets to see him look like this.

With her free hand, she reaches for his. Her fingers almost brush again his, but he closes the gap between them. His hold is loose and his hand is freezing from his reiatsu and the raindrops still clinging to it. The steeliness leaves his gaze, and he's vulnerable for a second, almost looking unsure. Do you really feel that way? he asks without saying it aloud.

She squeezes his hand and watches the downpour with him.

She desperately wants to ask if this mean he felt the same way as her, but maybe now is not the time. She's exhausted from the emotional highs, and he always takes the time to express himself.

His hold tightens. Again, she can almost cry.

For now, it’s enough.

#hitsuhina #hitsuhina week 2023 #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #bleach #fanfiction #angst #fluff and sappiness #it's not the ending I was expecting to write #but it felt right #ha that rhymes!

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has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong · 1 year

Note

Gilgamesh for ask meme!

Hi!!! Thank you for messaging me ☺ I really appreciate it! It's been a long time since I did askmeme on gilgablog so thank you for requesting him (i keep most fate thoughts private)! Sorry I will probably write a whole massive paragraph about him XD

My Gilgamesh opinions are very subjective here so they may not all be accurate, which is why I enjoy this ask a lot ^^

Sexuality Headcanon: I headcanon him as bi/pan, like yeah there's no denying he is also attracted to women, but his devotional relationship with Enkidu and kinky pleasure yuetsu time with Kirei is every bit as canon in my opinion!!!

Even his creepy obsession with Saber really hints to me personally that Gilgamesh may not discern his initial sense of attraction primarily by gender- I believe he may be attracted to people based off intangible traits that link to his personal sense of values as well; which cannot be as simply measured as gender.

So in my opinion GILGAMESH IS RATED E FOR EVERYONE!

Gender Headcanon: Though he is masc, man he/him I also feel as if Gilgamesh's gender is also just 'GILGAMESH'. Sometimes I wonder if Gilgamesh would see himself as beyond the convention of gender.

Also I heard from someone that gender can be very diverse in Ancient Mesopotamia so it would be really cool to see where Gilgamesh would slot his gender identity there... also can his pronouns be king of heroes/ king as well! I feel like he really defines himself by his role more than gender per se, and in one fate hanafuda game he says gender doesn't matter ☺👍

An OTP: ohh I love Gilgamesh ships so much 😊😊 Gilkidu is just so amazing in many ways I cannot even describe, Kotogil is incredible in their twisted dynamic .. and GilHaku is just so beautiful! And I love Gilgamesh x Merlin for the shenanigans... to be honest most Gilgamesh ships are my otp. I even really like Gilgamesh x reader/ oc fics and Ritsuka/ Guda ones depending on what the ocs are like! Oh I also like Gilgamesh x Cu as they can clash head on and go wild, as well as Gilgamesh x Ozymandias!

And a mutual introduced me to Achilles x Gilgamesh. I think it is a beautiful pairing as they have so much grief, love, power and arrogance in common.

A NOTP: I'm sorry Gilgamesh x Saber fans. I respect those who ship it but Gilgamesh is such a creep to Saber in my opinion, I like it when she doms him to smithereens and stomps on his pride though ☺🥳🥳🥳

BROTP: This is a hard one as I feel like his otps can be good otps, but seeing him hang out with Iskandar is always hilarious. Love how he actually listens to Taiga in the spin off games as well, so they could maybe enjoy a few drinks together. And Gilgamesh/Solomon/Merlin makes for great chaos.

Gilgamesh/Siduri/Enkidu is a powerful alliance and err what else... I feel like as long as they can entertain one another then Gilgamesh has the potential for many BROTPS.

Random Headcanon: He has golden nipple tassels that he unleashes whenever he has an urge to go full sexy, also I feel like though yes he does love pleasure and decadent desires the way he so tightly constrains and punishes himself sometimes makes me wonder if some of his hedonism is also used as a way to appear as an overwhelming figure to others.

I feel like Gilgamesh is definitely tyrannical and extremely powerful and charismatic... yet also has a side to him that is insecure as hell, his larger than life and genuine powerful and wise sides overcompensating for a side of him that is plagued with all sorts of self loathing and grief.

General opinion: I love this asshole!!!!!!!! Endless joy can be created from researching his character and reading, watching his materials, he is entertaining in such a wide variety of ways, and every side of him is a marvel to witness (though i wanna punch him sometimes too cuz holy crap is he horrendous at times).

He's a very complex and nuanced character that can be interpreted in a wide variety of ways so I am really irritated by how some people try to gatekeep Gilgamesh's character and throw him into a box, when Gilgamesh is such a versatile character! I hope that there will continue to be a space where people can enjoy Gilgamesh in as many different ways as possible, without there having to be some sort of 'fandom consensus' on which Gilgamesh opinions are most valid.

#thank you!#asks #gilgablog #op speaks #gilgapinions

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twistedtummies2 · 1 month

Note

Ok so quick question. I saw an ask about Billy and how he manages to you know,… live by himself and there was a part that intrigued me.you said that a few years is close to a few decades. So here’s my question. How do you age giants in your story’s! I had this question stuck in my head for over 3 days and I haven’t been able too sleep since and it’s driving me crazy!!! Cause if Billy is around 18/20 years old, that means he’s been alive for over 30 years right? Maybe I didn’t understood it correctly or I’m overthinking it but it’s something that’s been intriguing me. Sorry big nerd at heart

GOOD question, Anon! :D When I first created Billy, among other things that have changed since his debut, I actually imagined that giants aged at the same rate as human beings. They were humongous, had heightened senses, and were more inclined toward predatory activity, but were still basically human in biology. HOWEVER, over time, I started to move away from that. There are two reasons why: first, because I've always liked the idea of giants - in general, not necessarily for TW specifically - being like a lot of other famous, mythical/fantastical races that seem to have extremely long lifespans. Two, and honestly more importantly...Billy canonically has this HOARD of treasure. He's technically about as stupid rich as someone like Kalim or Leona, it's just that in his case he didn't inherit it from some royal lineage. I think he got lucky, sometime after his parents disowned him, and, like, found this HUGE treasure in the human world and brought it to his newfound home above. And, being a giant, over time he's gathered more and more to add to it: until the events of his first big story, Billy had a bad habit of just taking things he wanted because...well...he wanted them. Yes, that IS ironic, given his hatred of thieves, and yes, that IS the point. Billy has learned his lesson, at least to some degree or another. Which only makes him dislike others who clearly have NOT learned even more. Bottom Line, if Billy aged like a normal person, then it would have taken him, say, five human years to get all that stuff by the time of "Friends in High Places." To me, that felt like a pretty hard idea to swallow. HOWEVER, with all that said, I didn't like the idea of Billy being, like, CENTURIES old, the way Malleus or Lilia are, for example. To me, that just didn't match the character. SO, I eventually reached a compromise...WITH THE POWER OF MATH! I decided that, for giants - AND THIS IS SPECIFICALLY FOR TW, NOT ALL MY GIANT-RELATED WORKS - they age three times slower than a normal human being. So, a ten year old giant would actually have been around for 30 years in human time, so to speak. SO...let's presume Billy was 18 years old when the characters first met him. (Which is my headcanon.) That means that, if you counted in human years, Billy would actually be 54 years old by the start of "Friends in High Places." This also means that, by the time any of his human friends reached a senior-level age, like, say 65 years old, Billy would still physically be no more than 21 or 22. And by the time a century in human time has passed, Billy will only be in his early 30s. This also means that, in the time since his parents disowned him - which I headcanon as being five to six years before the events of that story - anywhere between fifteen and eighteen years would have passed before any of the main characters ever even meet Billy. Not only do I buy that he could amass a hoard in that amount of human years more believably, but it also means he literally was probably around before a lot of them were even born. Take all that however you will. XD

#ask #answer #q&a #disney #twisted wonderland #oc ask #oc #headcanon #billy #billy geant #macro/micro

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mellarked-katnisseverdeen · 1 year

Text

Toasting

Pairing: Everlark, K+ rating.

Synopsis: One year after the revolution, Katniss thinks about the future. There isn't much she is sure about despite all her healing. But what she is sure she wants has to do with her Boy With The Bread.

A/N- At long last, an obligitory Toasting fic! As stated in a previous post, this is much over due. I love me some AU's but sometimes one has to just do a soft canon one-shot. Am of the headcanon Katniss and Peeta do marry offically, but outside of signing the paperwork the whole thing is small, for themselves and def not a traditonal wedding. The fluff is toothrotting but don't imagine anyone will complain. Hope you all enjoy!

This also reminds me I have another ficlet I gotta crosspost on Ao3 cause I totally forgot. So, that will go up there along with this sometime this weekend XD.

The one-year anniversary of the rebellion somehow comes faster, and so much slower than Katniss expects. It seems like no time has passed, but she also feels different enough that one could assume decades had gone by.

It comes on a day that isn't lost to any of them. Haymitch had not drank the day before, and she was up about an hour after Peeta starts baking prepared to savor the day. Delly and Thom come over, as does Sae, her son, and her granddaughter. Katniss helps Peeta cook at his house, which is theirs in all but official name. They talk excitedly about all the changes, good changes in the last year. What's planned for the next year in the small, rebuilding community around them. More houses, an official school. The finishing of the medicinal medicine plant.

As they eat, Paylor gives a heartfelt speech. Commending the nation on healing, on prospering after the defeat of the Capitol, and vows to help continue the efforts. It moves Katniss more than she expects and judging by the silence as they watch, their small group share similar opinions.

It's enough for the get-together to become a party.

Sae has brought a fiddle with her, and Katniss, Haymitch, and Delly are all encouraged to sing. Katniss laughs at Haymitch actually keeping up with the two of them, and Thom playfully dances with Saes' granddaughter, Hal. They are singing between laughter when Peeta nudges her, and gestures to the area that had apparently become a makeshift dance floor.

Heat rises in her cheeks. "I can't, I-"

"Don't fret, go on and dance Katniss. Me and Haymitch got it, right old man?" Delly teases.

Their dance is slow to start, but soon Katniss grows comfortable in his arms and they take turns pulling one another into different steps and patterns of swaying. It's uncoordinated but enough to make Katniss pleasantly warm from the inside out and a grin forces itself on her face. It wasn't like they didn't share a bed every night, but doing this normal thing together brings her a giddiness she tries to control and fails as they enjoy themselves.

They escape to get a drink from the kitchen while she leans on his shoulder. The thought of how much her sister would love something like this crosses her mind.

Katniss waits and prepares to fracture apart like glass at any thought that crosses her mind about her sister. Prim, who was taken too young and should be here. Should be relishing this freedom, the peace that surrounds them now. While a twist in her stomach does come, the hollowed-out part of her heart where Prim had lived ached, but she remains put together as Peeta opens the fridge and she leans on the counter. Yes her sister deserved this celebration, just as much if not more than any of them.

But just as happy as Prim would be to be here, Katniss was well aware of how angry Prim would be knowing she let missing her take away from it.

Peeta seems to notice her deep in thought and nudges her. "You okay, Kat? You can talk if you need-"

She takes his hand with a shake of her head. No, Prim was somewhere wonderful watching them…she wouldn't ruin anything by being miserable when she could manage it. "Nothing. Just, thinking. Nothing important. Come on. Let's get back so I can give poor Delly a break from trying to match Haymitch's awful-sounding tune."

He takes her hand with a snort, and they grab their glasses to go back into the living room.

__________

The next morning, she wakes to his gentle pecks on her nose and cheek. A typical morning would have her leaving the bed to go hunting before he truly stirs. This morning though she stays under the covers thinking even when he leaves to work at the bakery.

It's different than other days when she might as well have been chained to her bed. Her thoughts are even similarly centered on Prim. But instead of her loss or the grief and pain, her mind turns to what her sister would want for her now. What Prim would encourage her to do, without her? This time she considers her sister watching her from whatever perfect place someone like the youngest Everdeen would go after life, and what she would want to see her doing. Katniss was well aware it was simple, that Prim would want nothing short of her happiness, but putting that sentiment into action was more tricky.

Dr. Aurelius had said something like that. She had made a routine, had stabilized, and could function going through the motions. That eventually meaning would come from that, and she'd find something that she wanted, that she liked and looked forward to during her day and indeed further into life. The future.

Getting out of bed, Katniss lets the thought slide in favor of falling into the morning routine, minus any hunting. Showering, dressing, and going down to the kitchen where the breakfast she was planning to make already sits. A note from Peeta confirming it was made by him in case she was hungry.

A smile graces her lips as she slowly savors it. Then an idea.

There wasn't a lot she could say she wanted, yet. No solid plans for the future she yearned to make happen. Hunting, keeping herself clean, and able to connect to the small group of people surrounding her was was enough to keep her out of the dark placing in her mind most days. But she can say there are things she'd be happy never changing. Something she finds she has the desire to make permanent

The time it takes her to eat the eggs and apple Peeta set out for her is all it takes for her mind to mull over the idea to deciding to make it happen.

Standing, she goes to the counter and pulls a box out of the cupboard. The lettering spelling Mellarks Family Bakery on it and opening it reveals dozens of recipes. Pulling out one of the most basic ones, Katniss reads it and gets to work making the best dough she can manage by herself and splits it into two. By the time Peeta comes home the loaves had sufficiently been allowed to rest, and rise. Katniss gets shy when Peeta asks about them when he comes how greets her, and sees them on the counter.

"I thought, we could share some toast." That is all she gets out. "If you like- just put them in, and we can get a fire going for when it's done."

Peeta is smart enough to know exactly what she is asking. Toast shared by a fire means more in their District, and he recognizes it as easily as she would. Pinning her with blue eyes, his voice is bearly a whisper when he speaks.

"Katniss, are you sure? I will, in a heartbeat, but only if you truly want this."

She nods and kisses him. A deep and long one that leaves no question.

He can't stop grinning as he puts the loaves in the oven and sets a timer. The two of them rustle some small foods to eat with it- some fruits, and a bit of dried jerky of Katniss's making. Some butter for their toast. By the time it's done, the fire is raging while they sit on the ground in front of it, quietly holding one another with matching grins. An occasional kiss being all that disrupts the moment. The stillness changes and they can't be still when the timer goes off and they rush into the kitchen to pull it out.

When they pull them out, they go to dress while the bread cools- deciding the occasion deserved more than dirty work clothes and flour-soiled pajamas. Katniss dawns on a flowy, simple cream dress. Peeta puts on a simple dress number, a black pair of pants, and a white shirt. They try not to laugh or trip over themselves slicing the loaves, and taking their meal to the fire.

Without a word, they take two pieces of bread on pokers and toast them over the fire before buttering them, kissing, and feeding the toast to one another. Katniss had a love for bread, for the buttery taste of toast before but there was not a doubt in her mind this particular piece was the best she'd ever have.

"Peeta." She says, after swallowing her first bite.

"Yes."

"I love you." She rushes out. It still feels dangerous and scary as they fall off her tongue, even if they also feel more true and right than anything.

He takes her hand, kissing her despite their shared crumbs. "I know. I love you, too."

#Everlark #Katniss Everdeen #Peeta Mellark #Toasting #One-Shot #AJ Writes #The Hunger Games

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riallasheng · 2 years

Text

Spectrum Uniforms

Just making a 'Master Post' that I can hopefully link to from my main tumblr page.

This will be the uniform versions and (once I make them) 'character collage' images.

Characters posted in descending rank order, and for characters of the same rank, descending age.

The highest rating in Spectrum is OF-7 (2 star admiral), there is no OF-1 rating or OR-1 rating, and while there are Warrant Officers, there are only two ranks of Warrant Officer.

Only the Officers are Color Coded (and all Officers are Color Coded). The Enlisted aren't color coded, BUT they have fake names, using surnames that are jobs or structures, etc (Smith, Bridge, etc)

FLAG OFFICERS and SENIOR OFFICERS

Spectrum's ranks are set up to be rather opaque / confounding to those outside of Spectrum to a greater or lesser degree as one of the measures of protection for the members of the organization.

The rank / rating insignia are purposefully understated, and there is rank title sharing between of5 & of4 (captain), and of3 & of2 (Lieutenant)

The ranks are also overall unique. While I did change the rank title on Colonel White to Admiral White, that was due to the fact that a Colonel is an of5 essentially world wide, and even if he wasn't REALLY that rank, the fact remains that White would be treated as said rank by everyone he worked with, which actually would cause issues on the regular.

Thus, Colonel White became Admiral White, using Naval ranking rather than Army because White had been Navy prior to Spectrum, AND because doing so had the added bonus of bumping the Captains from of3 up to of5.

====================

OF-7 Admiral White (2 star Admiral) Sir Charles Grey 2017 - July - 14

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OF-6 Captain Black (actually a Commodore / 1 star Admiral) Conrad Turner 2029 - Mar - 17 (Conrad was the co-founder of Spectrum, and prior to the Mars Mission / the Mysterons, he was the SiC / XO of Spectrum)

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OF-5 Captains

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Captain Grey Iain Holden 2027 - Mar - 4 (nCS and ogCS Grey were so simular to each other that I merged them into a singular character, taking elements from both, although overall ogCS takes presidence)

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Destiny Angel Juliette Pontoin 2030 - Aug - 23 (Destiny is the highest ranked of the Angels. My annual was damaged by a coffee stain, and it wasn't until a few years ago that I found out that'd I'd misread Destiny's birthyear for decades ^^;; I just kept myficverse Destiny with the 'wrong' birth year simply because it's what I'm used to for her)

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Captain Brown Stephen Blackburn 2033 - Jan - 14 (While I originally used Brown's canon name of Alan Stephens, when I switched the TV21 Zero X comics crew with Spectrum characters (Black, Destiny, Brown, Goldenrod), Brown was showing up too often and having his real name used too much and it became too easy to mix him up with Alan Tracy, so I used his surname for his given name, and used the popular fanon surname for his surname)

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Captain Magenta Patrick Donaghue 2034 - May - 17

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Captain Ochre Richard Fraser* 2035 - Feb - 23 (Ochre was not born Richard Fraser, as well as his appearance, he changed his name with Operation Jigsaw. He was born Matthew McClaine, son of Joe McClaine (aka Joe 90) and grandson of Matthew Harding (The Secret Service).

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Captain Saffron Elaine Jenkins 2035 - May - 11 (nCS Captain Ochre, as I merged nCS and ogCS, AND I adored Lady Ochre... I just don't like it when characters that are basically OCs use pre-existing character names... thus, Lady Ochre needed a new Color Code ^^. Her surname was changed to Jenkins as a tip of the hat to Leroy Jenkins, cause she is SO VERY MUCH a Leroy Jenkins type of character XD )

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Captain Blue Adam Svenson 2035 - Aug - 26 (2015 - Aug - 26*) (He was one of the five non-Koala Base personnel who were trapped by the Time Bubble. When all was said and done and the Bubble went down, he was 20 years older, didn't feel safe remaining on active field duty in his 60s, but wanted to remain active in Spectrum and thus took was transfered (alongside Symphony Angel, now Captain Sky) to become base commander of Owl Base, the special ops / secret agent base)

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Captain Scarlet Paul Metcalfe 2035 - Oct - 15

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Captain Olive Mariah Blackburn 2035 - Oct - 15 (My only OC this high a rank, and the ONLY reason she's an of-5 is that I have her as the commander of Koala Base, and she needed to be a high enough rank for that. She's a background / support character, but she was Captain Brown's wife, and is the mother of Starbuck "Buck" Blackburn - the second Captain Brown)

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Captain Brown (jr) Starbuck "Buck" Blackburn 2053 - Oct - 31* (nCS Blue. There was time schennannigins that occurred at Koala Base inbetween S2 (the end of teh ogCS rewrite) and S3 (the start of the nCS rewrite) that had a 'Time Bubble' go up. Inside the Time Bubble, 20 years occur for Koala Base, where-as only 4 years pass outside the Time Bubble. Which results in the son of Captain Brown and Captain Olive to be an adult when the Bubble is eventually defeated / dropped. Buck received full training during the 20 year span, and once all was said and done, he was made a Color Captain - taking up his father's Color Code by his request.

==========================

OF-4 Captain / Command Captain (Commander)

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Doctor Goldenrod Mason Frost 2015 - Jun - 05 (Frost was a member of WARP, serving on the SR3 and then teh Zero X under the command of Conrad Turner | Captain Black and alongside Stephen Blackburn | Captain Brown. He joined Spectrum, taking up the role of lead doctor, after Doctor Fawn died when Cloudbase was destroyed)

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Captain Sky Karen Wainwright 2022 - Jan - 06* (Actually Symphony Angel. She was one of the five non-Koala Base personnel who were trapped by the Time Bubble. When all was said and done and the Bubble went down, she was 20 years older, didn't feel safe remaining a pilot in her 50s, but wanted to remain active in Spectrum and thus took was transfered (alongside Captain Blue) to Owl Base to begin training Special Ops / Spy work)

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Captain Vermilion Chan Kwan 2022 - Jun - 19* (Actually Harmony Angel. She was one of the five non-Koala Base personnel who were trapped by the Time Bubble. When all was said and done and the Bubble went down, she was 20 eyars older, didn't feel safe remaining a pilot in her 50s, but wanted to remain active in Spectrum and thus took over melee combat training on Koala Base from the retiring Captain Hemp)

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Captain Hemp Cuhtahlatah 2031 - Apr - 7 (an OC, she's the melee combat trainer on Koala Base. She was on Koala Base when the Time Bubble occured, and when it went down she decided that - being over 60 years old - she could not safely remain as melee combat trainer, and retired from Spectrum)

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Doctor Fawn Edward Wilkie 2031 - Jul - 10

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Captain Indigo Andrew Macey 2033 - Sept - 01 (He's actually the character Macey from Big Ben Strikes Again. Spectrum checked into him after all was said and done and found that Macey was a weapons designer / builder, and rushed him trhough training to have him help construct the Mysteron Gun

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Captain Turquoise Shaka Dlamini 2041 - Mar - 1 (an oooooolllllllld OC created by myself and a few friends waaaaaay back in the 1980s)

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Symphony Angel Karen Wainwright 2042 - Jan - 06

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Harmony Angel Chan Kwan 2042 - Jun - 19

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Melody Angel Magnolia Jones 2043 - Jan - 10

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Rhapsody Angel Dianne Simms 2043 - Apr - 27 (A small fun thing I've got is that Dianne's older brother is Robert Lyon - born Roger Simms - the spy and good friend of Lady Penelope that showed up in Penny's comics)

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Crescendo Angel Toshi Drake 2049 - Jun - 02 (a merging of the one-off, but quite popular, character from the Angels comic of Toshi and nCS Harmony Angel)

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Rhythm Angel Esther Jones 2054 - Feb - 08* (nCS Melody Angel, she's one of the people born inside the Koala Base Time Bubble, and is the daughter of Melody Angel and Captain Ochre, who were among the five non-Koala Base personnel who were trapped by the Time Bubble)

#Master Post #Spectrum #Captain Scarlet #Captain Scarlet 1967 #new Captain Scarlet

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peony-pearl · 1 year

Note

△ For Haruka: What’s the biggest romantic fail you’ve ever experienced?

(thank you for sending these! Now that I'm off work I can answer them properly XD I'm also going to take creative liberties and answer in-character)

Invasive character answers!

Rating of how much she would want to answer this: 4

Haruka takes a draw of her pipe, the eyes and mouth of the decorative dragon light up.

"I was... seventeen?" She drawls, smoke curling from her nostrils. "My parents' hopes of my abilities making good money were coming to fruition and my performances were beginning to pay the bills and then some. I was starting to feel rather invincible. Too much so for a girl that wasn't used to the snobbery of the elite. However; there was a boy at one of the mansions I performed in that caught my eye. Some pampered thing with his nose in the air. I was so eager to impress him. My performance was some kind of celebration for his father who had just obtained some important public office position."

She lets go of several smoke-filled laughs. "During my dance performance, I tried to make sure I was motioning towards him for all of my flourishes; like some mating dance. My parents were so upset because I was ruining the choreography, but they couldn't exactly make a scene. I was smart enough by then to make it all look like it had been planned; but I was dumb enough to be smitten by some boy who didn't want to acknowledge my existence. So much so that I lost track of how much stage I had to work with, and in my enamored state I fell off of the stage!"

Her face is red, but mostly through laughter. "My parents were furious; and at first I was ecstatic because the boy I had been eyeing was right in front of me as I lay on the floor. But, all of my romantic thoughts were quickly destroyed, as all he did was look at me and turn to his friend and say 'this party is awful'. I didn't get my shining hero moment, and it became clear to me he wasn't interested; so all I could do was get up, dust myself off and start over."

Haruka takes another drag of her pipe. "I performed the rest of the evening without a hitch; we got paid. But that night cemented how well my dating life went for the next decade. Which is the fact that it was nonexistent until I met Iroh."

#Thanks for the asks!!!#Haruka

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uxopenworld · 21 days

Text

Web Design Bootcamp vs. Mobile App Design: Which Path Is Right for You?

Introduction to Web Design and Mobile App Design

In today’s digital age, designing for the web and mobile applications are two of the most in-demand skills. But which path should you pursue—Web Design or Mobile App Design? Each offers unique challenges, skill sets, and career opportunities. If you’re unsure which to choose, this guide will help you weigh the pros and cons and make an informed decision.

What Is Web Design?

Web design is all about creating engaging and functional websites that work across various platforms, including desktop and mobile browsers. Web designers use a combination of technical skills, creativity, and an understanding of user experience to design websites that are not only visually appealing but also easy to navigate.

Skills Needed for Web Design

To excel in web design, you’ll need a solid understanding of HTML, CSS, and JavaScript, as these form the backbone of any website. Additionally, learning design tools like Figma, Adobe XD, or Sketch will help you create prototypes and visual layouts. Web designers also need to think about User Experience (UX) and User Interface (UI) to ensure that the website delivers a seamless and enjoyable experience for its users.

What Is Mobile App Design?

Mobile app design course focuses on designing applications for mobile devices such as smartphones and tablets. These designs must cater to smaller screens, touch interfaces, and different operating systems, like iOS and Android. Mobile app designers aim to create user-friendly, efficient, and visually attractive apps that meet user needs on the go.

Skills Needed for Mobile App Design

Mobile app design requires an understanding of the two major platforms—iOS and Android. Designers must be aware of each platform’s unique guidelines and user expectations. UI/UX is equally important in mobile app design as in web design, but there is more focus on touch interfaces, gestures, and screen resolution. Familiarity with tools like Figma, Adobe XD, and platform-specific development environments (like Xcode for iOS and Android Studio for Android) is essential.

Key Differences Between Web Design and Mobile App Design

While both web and mobile app design share common principles such as UI/UX design, there are several differences that set them apart.

User Interface and User Experience: Mobile app design requires more attention to touch interfaces and mobile gestures, whereas web design often caters to both mouse and keyboard users.

Platform and Device Considerations: Web designers need to ensure compatibility across different browsers and screen sizes, while mobile app designers must account for iOS and Android users.

Development Tools and Technologies: Web designers often work with HTML, CSS, and JavaScript frameworks like Bootstrap or React, while mobile app designers use Xcode, Android Studio, and mobile-specific design patterns.

The Demand for Web Designers

The demand for web designers continues to grow as businesses expand their online presence. Web designers can work in various industries, from eCommerce to corporate websites. According to recent industry reports, the job market for web designers is expected to grow by 8% in the next decade. Salaries for web designers can range from $50,000 to $90,000 annually, depending on experience and location.

The Demand for Mobile App Designers

Mobile apps are becoming the primary way people interact with digital content, and the need for mobile app designers has skyrocketed. With the rise of mobile-first experiences, businesses are heavily investing in app design. The job market for mobile app designers is growing at a faster rate than web design, with potential salaries ranging from $70,000 to over $120,000 annually, depending on expertise and location.

Career Path in Web Design

To build a career in web design, start by mastering the basics like HTML, CSS, and JavaScript. As you advance, learning more about responsive design and accessibility will help you cater to a wider audience. Many designers choose to enroll in web design bootcamps that offer an intensive curriculum focusing on UI/UX, front-end development, and project management.

Career Path in Mobile App Design

The path to becoming a mobile app designer involves understanding platform-specific nuances. Start by learning UI/UX for mobile, followed by platform design principles (iOS and Android). Mobile app design bootcamps provide hands-on learning experiences and often focus on real-world projects, giving you a portfolio to showcase to potential employers.

Pros and Cons of Web Design Bootcamps

Advantages:

Fast-paced learning: Bootcamps compress learning into a few months.

Hands-on projects: Work on real-world projects and build a portfolio.

Networking opportunities: Meet industry professionals and fellow students.

Challenges:

Cost: Bootcamps can be expensive, often ranging from $5,000 to $15,000.

Limited scope: You may not dive deep into advanced topics.

Pros and Cons of Mobile App Design Bootcamps

Advantages:

High demand: Mobile app designers are in high demand, and bootcamps often focus on industry-relevant skills.

Practical projects: Just like web design bootcamps, you get to work on real-world projects.

Challenges:

Platform specificity: You may focus heavily on one platform, like iOS, limiting your versatility.

Cost: Similar to web design bootcamps, these programs can be pricey.

Which Path is Right for You?

Choosing between web design and mobile app design comes down to your personal interests and career goals. If you enjoy working across a wide range of devices and have a passion for web technology, web design might be the perfect fit. On the other hand, if you’re excited by the idea of designing interactive mobile experiences, mobile app design is worth exploring.

Learning Curve and Time Commitment

Both fields require dedication and time. However, web design may have a shorter learning curve due to the availability of numerous resources and the ubiquity of websites. Mobile app design, with its platform-specific requirements, may take longer to master.

Conclusion

In the end, the choice between Web design bootcamp and mobile app design boils down to your long-term vision. Both fields offer exciting opportunities, and the demand for skilled designers is only growing. Whether you choose to build websites or mobile apps, you’re entering a vibrant industry full of innovation.

#Mobile app design

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dzpenumbra · 2 years

Text

2/27/23

I don't really know how to sum up the clusterfuck that was today. It wasn't too far off from the normal conflict... 3 sentences into time that was supposed to be reserved for figuring out what I'm going to do for transportation. We've tried this fucking conversation like 8 times now, she postponed it yesterday and now... it just descended into hell real quick.

The same issue. "It's my money, so I get a say in what you get." "I'm supporting you, so I choose." And she has completely taken advantage of this my entire life. There was a period of my life, I am actually cringing at this as I type it, where I had to drive around in a Mercedes Benz SUV because she insisted on making me drive it. For the "safety ratings". Whatever. I was working at a fucking gas station. And driving a Mercedes. Great way to make friends, man. Try explaining that shit. It's fucking humiliating. Getting a Mercedes has never even been on my fucking radar as goals in life. If you haven't noticed by my reaction here...

And I've encountered my fair share of people looking at me like a spoiled piece of shit saying all of this. I've had my own family call me a spoiled piece of shit for not wanting status symbol opulent bullshit. Is the narrative these desperate idiots are coming up with really "what, you're too good for a Mercedes? You're greedy!" That doesn't even make fucking sense! XD

It has been blowing my mind for literal decades how these people can't connect the dots here. And it hit me a few years back... they just clearly never got to know me at all. They just... get what they would want... and assume I would want it... and then emotionally and verbally beat the shit out of me if I'm not grateful and appreciative of something I don't like, and never will like. And, in this case, things that are really... the antithesis of my goals in life. And they take it personally. Every time.

So... after a very spotty track record with the whole car situation... I have been setting some pretty clear boundaries about like... Ugh, how can I put this... Like... If I say "support me as an artist", and your way of "supporting me" in my goals is to tell me to pursue the goals you want me to pursue? And you threaten to not support me if I don't change my goals to yours? Like... come on. That's not support, that's manipulation. That's some gaming conglomerate buying out an indie game dev studio saying "we love your games! we want to help you make more!" Then firing half the staff, gutting the company, white-washing the IP and turning it into mobile games with microtransactions. That's what it is. It's... wait for it... exploitation. It's using someone.

And with my situation... it's not being there to help me pick out a vehicle that will be my lifeline for the next several years... going through the process with me, getting excited, being encouraging and trying to make sure I'm happy with the end product and that it's going to meet my needs. Even setting up a plan to potentially repay that favor in some way, I'm open to that. Instead, it's telling me what my needs are, trying to pick it for me and leaving me to find a way to be happy with whatever option I'm given.

I have had former (very intentionally chosen modifier) friends give me shit for not being grateful I have parents that support me. My parents finance me. One of them occasionally peppers in some compliments, and sometimes they're heart-felt. They don't agree with any of my dozens of chosen career paths, they don't really seem to like or respect my lifestyle or personality, they reject my input and perspective whenever possible, they constantly look and talk down to me as though they were just... born better than me or something, they often treat me worse than they treat strangers... which I always found odd... It's really hard to define that as "support". Yes, they may finance me, but in the way that a sociopathic upper middle class suburban family might finance putting their elderly parent in an "old-folks home" half a continent away. Because I have PTSD, anxiety, depression and maybe other shit too, jury's still out... and I was born a multimedia artist.

In a consumerist, materialistic, industrial capitalist society? I would give anything to have my biggest problem with people be that I fuck dudes, or I'm a woman's spirit trapped in a man's body. I am the antichrist for corporate America. I am the problem. There is nothing that industrial materialists hate (and I do stress the word hate) more than a "lazy layabout" who fucking paints all day.

It's obviously not a competition, and gay and trans people have their own struggles... I'm genuinely scared someone might straight up attack me for saying that I wish I was gay or trans instead of an artist born to economists, that my suffering would be less. Tell me that's not a symptom of a sick society. There's one thing that I learned ages ago in a mental health group that made a huge impact on my life. Never compare individual traumas. You don't know what someone else is going through.

So... I do feel a bit guilty for comparing. I wanted to stress the level of overt bigotry I've experienced first hand of shit that is just absolute nonsense.

I'm full-on backpedaling here. I hate that this is where this kind of discussion has gone in the world. Where I have to be afraid of saying my thoughts because of how... violent... the discussion of... violence against people who are different... just because they are different... has become. Like... for real. We're all talking about being oppressed and treated like absolute garbage, like sub-human, because we aren't... like them. And... we compete amongst ourselves? "I have it worse than you", "you can't compare yourself to us". It's... just adding more animosity to the mix. Like... you're not just exiling other exiles, you're exiling yourself from them! It's upsetting. I've experienced this in-person several times, it was always such a helpless feeling. Kinda like how people would be prejudiced against my friend because her father was a pastor and she was very religious, so they just... would treat her different... And I'm not devout in any religion, but I hung out with her and even talked about spiritual stuff pretty often. We found common language between us and spoke as humans. You know, as we all can do. So... like... I encourage you all to try that. We have enough fucking division, we don't need to worship it. There's no good prize for being the most oppressed, that's a one-way ticket to being alone.

Good god, all this because my mom wanted to help me figure out a car situation, because she echo chambered my anxiety about riding the bus and now really convinced me that it's straight up dangerous... which is... well... she just really doesn't understand that it's kind of a social strata thing... And that I'm very clearly not in her stratum.

Let's just get that out of the way before I drop the big bomb. I have never had more than 5k in my bank account ever. And I honestly don't expect to any time soon. I've had power shut off, I've had internet disconnected. I've had bill collectors chase me down. And not even because of my own wrongdoing. Not because of poor budgeting, not because of impulsive spending. I'm actually often too frugal. Because my mom assured me she would support me with that as I worked on my art career. And she would overload her plate with responsibilities and my shit was the first to slip through the cracks.

I've been living low-income, hovering just above the poverty line... for nearly 20 years. Half my life. And... because I don't receive a direct paycheck and instead spend my time focused on my fine art career and my mental health with my parents financing my survival needs... I am viewed as... well... as their income level. Which is absolutely absurd. It's just such an odd life situation that I'm in that... it's really hard and extremely humiliating to even try to explain to people. Let alone date. In my head, my situation sounds noble. It sounds like pure unadulterated passion for your craft. I'm willing to live like this, to be treated like shit by the rich people for being "poor", by the poor people for being "rich", as my price for pursing my purpose on this planet. As the toll so that I don't have to abandon the life I can finally envision on the horizon. But I'm really yet to find another human who seems to believe that... the life that I'm trying to build... the things that I want to provide for others by being in that role as a creator... they're not worth the price. And it would be better if I just... "got a fucking job." Might as well throw a spiteful "hippie" and hock a loogie into the dirt after that phrase...

My conflict with my mom escalated to that today. Like... direct quote. And I hung up. See, things escalated when she told me that she... would "need" to get my dad involved to "approve these expenses". And my Dad... I'm not entirely sure he remembers my middle name. I don't like talking about him, because... it's hard for me to without seeming like I'm painting him in a bad light. He has suffered greatly in his life. And he didn't deserve it. The stuff that I heard about, at least, I can't say he deserved any of it. There are a lot of life skills that he... didn't get to develop? Or chose not to? It's not really my place to say. Regardless, let's just say that he and I... we haven't had a real conversation in over a decade; if ever, honestly. Not for lack of trying. It's just... very difficult. And... I can't help with that. No matter how much I would love to.

To keep it brief. He doesn't seem very interested in getting to know me. He seems interested in using my presence and my problems as an... exercise, of sorts... to gratify an impulse to... feel wise and philanthropic, like passing down life lessons and shit. And if it's not working? If it fails to assist me? If it misses the mark? That's a misinterpretation on my part. Me being the dumb kid and all... Like... I have the same problem with my mom but with my dad... to quote moonmoon, it's "giga-bad". Like... within a minute low blows are being thrown, I'm being mocked and laughed at and he's leaving the room. And... yeah... there's a reason I just... don't seek it out anymore.

So... when I hear that there are 3 people on the board of directors for arranging secure transportation for me in a city where I don't know anyone... and the majority shareholder is a dude who knows literally nothing about the situation or the recipient and has complete veto power. I freak the fuck out. I put my foot down so hard I'm surprised I didn't crack floorboards. And... that escalated things very quickly, as her blind loyalty to him turned on me. As though I were a rebel insurgent or something.

It took a while to come back from that. But we got there.

I'm fucking so torn apart from this shit. I just want to get this fucking car out of the way, it's the last fucking thing. Once that's gone... I just have to keep this afloat. Keep the rent paid, keep the car in good repair, however I need to do that. Keep the career moving along, make social connections. I moved in December. Now, at the end of February... I'm one step away from getting started. To put this in the perspective that I see - I took a minute there to think about how I'm going to phrase this - the quarterly reports for my family's business went out on time, no problem. I'm almost 3 months in and I can't even get a ride back home after returning this fucking rental car that was rented in November. I don't know if that even makes sense to another human being outside of my family, it feels like an inside joke that only Scientologists would get or something.

On the bright side, my mom did realize a lot of the things that she was struggling with. It took several hours of me enduring it... which I really fucking need to stop doing, but like... how can I when the cost on the other end is me just being fucking stranded? It completely plays on my survival/security/safety reflexes, which is literally my PTSD. That's literally how PTSD works. And I just stick in place and can't leave. Even after I hung up, I called right back 5 minutes later. It's like there's a fire in my fucking kitchen... what, am I just going to go to bed with that fire raging?! I have no idea how people can do that, I am not wired that way.

But she did get a lot of stuff, after she had a big panic attack that... I didn't even recognize as a panic attack. I just instinctively tried to help ground like I do for myself, and like 5 minutes in realized that was what I was doing and connected the dots that I was intuitively helping someone differentiate between "what happened" and "what it felt like" or "what could have happened". It's just autopilot for me now, I have to do it like daily now.

I'm so fucking tired, I can't keep typing this.

We found common ground. I shared stuff from last nights journal and she got to know me better. I shared a link I found for a certificate course on sustainable trail building which I was really interested in. I'm anxious and not sure how to make it work, but I think that job would be really rewarding and I think I'd be good at it. I've wanted to be a Trail Steward kind of person who maintains trails... but also decorates with found materials and puts in non-invasive natural art installations too. I would absolutely love that life, as a natural extension of the art work I'm currently doing. We're going to look into it. I just... on my end? I just need to work on my self-esteem and confidence around that. I keep getting that shitty voice in the back of my head going "you're not good enough for that. What if you don't love it? What if you get bored 2 weeks in and wander off again? What if... what if... what if..." And he's super fucking loud right now. And oddly convincing. My goal is to pat him on the head, read his cranky-ass a bedtime story and tuck him in.

Not a ton of good today. But the moments when I connected with my mom were nice. I don't know if they balanced out the... very deep pain. But they were nice. And yoga was good, it was calm and not too intense, and did good things for my upper back. Yeah, that's about it.

Fingers crossed tomorrow goes better. Maybe I can go skating or something before the snow melts. That varial flip is calling my name.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

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a-slut-for-smut · 3 years

Text

One Big Slutty Fuckoff List of Gloriously Smutty Alutegra fanfics :D

Greetings, fellow Alutegra sluts out there! I am but a humble whore for Alutegra for well over a decade, but finally decided it was high time to curate some of the finest, most exquisite smut of our OG girl boss/malewife ship. What spurred this on, you ask? Welp, I am guilty of sluttily luring in some of my moots aboard this ship and been promising to deliver this for AGES, so here we are years later (sorry i operate on grandma speeds!!!)

A couple things to know regarding this rec list (which may be particularly helpful for curious newcomers, horny vets feel free to scroll on down):

1.) As the title suggests, this is a smutravaganza so mostly is rated E, some M. Sorry folks, im sure there is a ton of amazing non-explicit fics but this is all i read! Also, given the very nature of the series (iirc it originally has hentai roots) it doesnt shy away from sexually kinky themes. Honestly name a kink and its probably not only been explored but likely grounded as far as canon goes. What do i mean by this? I'm only going to name a few but if any of the following get your juices flowin then Alutegra is the ship for you:

Dom/Sub BDSM (emphasis on consent)/Power play vibes- Integra is master, Alucard is her servant. As my boy Oscar Wilde said “Everything in the world is about sex — except sex. Sex is about power.” Honest to God, I don't know any ship that embodies this quote any better.

Bondage- Alucard is first discovered by Integra in a strait jacket/chains etc, and if memory serves me correctly makes several appearances throughout the series

Genderbending/fluidity- well im not sure this is the right term, but in canon Alucard can shapeshift/says he doesn't identify with a specific form/body (whether this applies to gender is up to interpretation i guess?). His "Girlycard" form is generally seen as his female form in the fandom.

Monster porn- Well, Alucard is a vampire and can shapeshift. Including a wolf/dog beast. Sky's the limit folks

Tentacle/cosmic horror porn- Alucard can conjure these shadowy tentacle thingys and a million extra eyes which serves as some sort of relevant symbolism that ive completely forgotten. Shit's hot tho (i got a cosmic horror kink shutup)

Non-penetrative sex & forbidden/taboo vibes- in canon, its established that only virgins can be turned into true vampires, everyone else turns into inhuman mindless ghouls. That said, the authors who write within the bounds of canon find very, VERY creative loopholes. Also the sheer level of pining (for penetration especially) might drive you insane no joke (proof: me). Mad respect to these authors- trust me this is sayin a lot coming from someone who actively prefers full-on penetration smut XD

2.) I am by no means a resource for canon- I watched both series YEARS ago, so my memory of the plot is shaky at best. What truly gripped me about this series is the Alutegra relationship, the true struggle in how to define their bond (or if it even can be, kudos to the fic authors that try). They are both utterly compelling characters in their own right within canon (truthfully I crush harder on Integra than Alucard) and i think the fandom absolutely recognizes that. Much of the gravitas of their bond is tied to canon, so most fics seem to understand/reflect this. No warm fuzzy coffee shop/high school AUs here folks, prepare yourselves for a truly smutty angst fest.

OK enough of that, to the smut! I'm really just commenting on the porn vs the plot so no summaries here. Oh and if any of you know the tumblr URLs of any of these authors lmk so i can tag them. Also im sure ive missed some gems, feel free to share and i'll look to add later

Welp, im going to hell and im taking you all with me- get sinning and enjoy the feast you horny hoes

One-shot porn

What It Wants and Where It Goes - by @crystallinee-waters

Femdom but goddamn its written in a way that made me ache. Alucard's sheer level of contrition, desperation for forgiveness goes beyond your standard simp energy. Top tier, i fucking LOVE how their relationship is depicted. and fun fact, i may have helped the author brainstorm some of the smuttier details <3<3

Mine - by @crystallinee-waters

Goddess at femdom and pining, but holy hell the way how explicit sexual content is approached is just *chefs kiss* I needn't remind you folks- consent is sexy as fuck and this authors fics are proof of that *sidenote - im keeping this list to smut but do yourself a favor and read ALL these authors fics, im a whore for her interpretation of their relationship

In This Darkness, I Have You by @goblins-riddles-or-frocks

What is the point of a vampire/human porn-rec list if you don't include menstrual cunnilingus smut? Also feels. Lots of feels.

Girls & Wolves by Calesvol

mmm hate-sex at its finest folks. Gotta fuck em into obedience yallwhatimsayin??

Homeostasis by Calesvol

A semi-sequel to Girls & Wolves. Very kinky smut but laced with hurt/comfort.

Kingdom of Heaven by Iggy_Lovechild

more hate-sex basically, yay. Also has a shit-ton of smutty one-shots, far too many to list- enjoy

A Queen's Throne by Anilucard

a smutty ode to Alucard's wicked, wicked tongue :D

With the Thorns Underneath by wllw

Holy femdom batman!

Loopholes by @and-i-write-sins

eyyy remember when i mentioned creative loopholes? LOL

you'd make a dead man come by valenstyne

LORD HAVE MERCY! i'll let the fic summary speak for itself: There’s more than one way to stake a vampire. Metaphorically speaking.

Pain by hypnonaut

lol this one just gets progressively kinky as it goes, but Alucard's adoration of Integra is both sweet & sexy

Tentacles of the Night by LaviniaLavender

eyyy remember when i mentioned tentacle porn? LOL

Simple Motions by @ironcladvalkyr

eyyy remember when i mentioned genderbending? but to expand on this this is probably one of the hottest things ive ever read and top tier aftercare/pillow talk

To be watched, in such silence by @ironcladvalkyr

short but smutty, the way Alucard goes on about how Integra turns him on is yums

darling, I wish you were red by @lunarcrystal

yay for cunnilingus and pining!

These fics from Cardinal_Daughter - you have to be logged in to see

Clingy - Timeline of their relationship via Integra POV.

Adore - post-canon angsty smut

Remembered - no smut but this was so achingly angsty i had to shout out

Multi chapter porn

And Though You Turn From Me - by @when-rivers-run-red

THE PINING, THE NOTICE ME SENPAI FEELS, THE TENTACLE PORN AUGHHHHHHHHH this one is a recent favorite folks, do not skip!!!

Eternal Sin by @therustycage

This post-canon multi-fic is one of my favs. Love the Alutegra interactions on how to tackle the obstacles presented in the finale, the pining, and the plot is definitely something to chew on. Slow-burn but tis a good burn

Embracing Sin by @therustycage

Sequel to Eternal Sin. Basically fluffy-porn and time travel. Delicious.

Satis by @lesmismignon

A heavy weight champ of Alutegra post-canon fics. Integra's POV on how she wrestles her feelings for Alucard- just INJECT that shit straight into my veins MMMM! Alucard's pining is top notch/the slow burn makes the smutty bits that much more exquisite. Honestly just read all her fics (one-shots) they're great

The Return by ButifulDeath

Post-canon porn with interesting plot, and fuckin hell dat smut is just *chefs kiss*

Samhain by ButifulDeath

fluffy porn one-shot sequel to The Return and it is hothothot

Like Real People Do by @my-mild-ginger

ahhh so i actually havent read this one yet as its a chonky 40 chapters (currently), seems much more fluff vs smut for those that prefer that balance

#wow i am all over the place lol #my h*ornyness knows no limits #alutegra #alucard x integra #hellsing #hellsing ultimate #integra hellsing #alucard #alucard hellsing #alutegra fanfiction #alutegra fanfic

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 1 year

Note

For the fan fic asks, 30. How many fics have you written where Hitsugaya's uses his adult form, and can you list them? Or maybe you can recommend fics you've read that have his adult form? Considering how crazy the fandom went when it happened, I feel like there isn't enough fic out there where he uses it 😂

Fanfic asks

You know, I could've sworn I wrote more with the Completed Form! Turns out it's only 10 fics! XD But here they are anon (note: these are all hitsuhina):

Amongst the Ruins: After the abrupt conclusion of the battle with Gerard, Toshiro searches for Momo amongst the ruins. Rated K+ for mild violence

Familiar: In which Gerard was defeated in chapter 671, and instead of Byakuya, a certain someone else was there to catch Toshiro. Written for Hitsuhina Week 2019.

Give me a Hand?: Momo knows there’s only one way to be sure he was Toshiro. Written for 2019 Blog Anniversary fanfic requests.

I’ll Always Come for You: Written for the Hitsuhina Exchange 2020. After Gerard is defeated, Momo searches for Toshiro and her worst fears are confirmed.

In the Shadow of the Ice: After witnessing Toshiro’s new powers, Momo experiences an emotion she never expected to feel towards her childhood friend.

Petrichor: Toshiro is forced to transform into the Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form when a battle to protect a town in the World of Living from Huge Hollows turns dire, and Momo comes to understand the magnitude of her friend’s powers. Written for Hitsuhina Week 2022.

Reflections on the Ice: Toshiro reflects on his new-found powers and the motivation behind them.

Stand Behind Me: In which Momo protects Toshiro in childhood, and he repays the favour decades later. Rated K+ with mild violence.

Unwavering Light - I & II: a reunion after all the battles have been won and the dust has settled. First part is from Hinamori’s perspective, second part from Hitsugaya’s.

I tend to rewrite the same situation - Momo sees the Completed Form after Gerard's defeat and reacts. And you know what the sad thing is? I can still think of ways to reqrite that scenario! XD

In terms of fics I can recommend:

it was all a dream by @canariie: a little biased here seeing as she wrote this for me ;D Even so, this is a fic I still come and read again and again. It takes place after the TYBW arc and features Momo seeing the Completed Form after Toshiro stumbles into the division's garden. It's a scenario I wouldn't have thought of but it works really well and has some very fluffy and sweet moments :3

The Cave by @roguedarthskywalker: this is part of their untitied Hitsuhina oneshot collection, which I can also recommend! This fic takes place before the TYBW arc, when Toshiro is training in the caves. I liked how this is a fic where the two of them both react to the form (you'll understand what I mean once you've read it).

a cacophny in stillness by @visionen-im-spiegel : Although I've linked the Ao3 version, you can also find this one Tumblr here. There's just something about these three chapters/oneshots, and I think the title sums it up. There's a stillness to this fic, moments where the characters take a moment to think and reflect, but there's also a lot happening, whether it's the battle or the emotions racing through them. Love this one!

Thanks for sending this in! :D

#toshiro hitsugaya #matured form #hitsuhina #fanfiction #ask meme #asks

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

apostrophe, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook brief mention of previous seokjin x reader

summary: The apostrophe indicates two things, the omission of information that is known and, of course, possession. As time passes behind closed doors, the possession is clear in the way Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook completely and utterly dominate your pleasure. The omission of admission, well, that becomes known too.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short scenes of the trio at their respective jobs; descriptions of explicit D/s relationship; very intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex in JK's tattoo parlor, restraints, obsessive biting / marking, nipple play, m-receiving oral, hair pulling, photography during sex, m/m and m/f choking, cutting off undergarments with a knife (you read that right), pussy / tit / ass spanking, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, (technically) squirting, penetrative sex, use of an anal vibrator, wall-fucking, anal sex, finger sucking, reader has a pain kink); shifting POVs between Yoongi, Jungkook, and you; non-idol!AU; rich heir to a hotel chain, dom!Yoongi x tattooed, sub!reader x tattoo artist, dom!Jungkook

tbh this is bordering a bit on PWP but, in classic me fashion, many emotions are conveyed via fucking XD

Min Yoongi hated meetings like this.

He found them useless, boring, and a waste of his precious time.

He was much rather be in your bedroom, on that lavish bed of yours, his hand on your chin dragging you over the sheets, forcing you to crawl and service him.

Instead, Yoongi was sitting at the head of the table at a board meeting, the stand-in for his father who was off doing who-the-fuck-knows-what, listening to the worthless opinions of old men in suits about toilets.

Fucking shit.

The board of directors was trying to decide whether or not to invest a vast amount of money into renovating all the hotel bathrooms to be more economically friendly. The current finishings were from a few decades ago and, while they still remained modern and sleek visually, it was vital to update them to maintain the quality of their service. The discussion, however, was centered around sustainability and, regardless of what the public thought, sustainability was expensive upfront and offered very little return for the current generation who were making the decision.

Thus, the board wanted to take the cheaper route and update the style rather than give a shit about the environment they weren’t going to live to see.

He had previously been silent during this back and forth between the proposer and the board members, but for the past twenty minutes they had been fixated on toilets and, at this point, Yoongi was over this debate. In fact, he was over this meeting.

He sighed and tapped his pen on the pad in front of him, looking down at the budget. Yoongi didn’t really give a shit how much they spent. Spending more money would require reallocating from the board members’ potential bonuses amount at the end of the year. Taking it from their pockets didn’t bother him in the slightest.

His father wouldn’t do that.

But then, again, Yoongi wasn’t his father.

“The benefits of reducing water waste are not only eco-friendly, but will also attract customers,” he cut in, silencing the room. “The money we are trying to attract is new money. For years to come, we will need to appeal to the younger generation, and the younger generation follows trends. Being sustainable is trendy. They will look for efforts toward sustainability in all facets of their life, including which hotel they select to stay in on their vacations.”

He was aware that had the attention of the entire room on words alone. He did not need to stand up or speak loudly.

His presence simply commanded attention.

“We will appeal to their altruism. People are willing to pay a higher price if it means they are helping their country and the world they live in. They will also boast about it to their friends and post about it on social media. You are thinking too narrowly if your focus is only on the surface.”

Yoongi wasn’t exactly passionate about sustainability.

He simply remembered your conversation with him when watching the fireworks, after the first time he had you, you sitting in his lap and telling him they were rather wasteful with their excessiveness and not good for the environment.

He ticked his head, raising his pen and pointing at the projected proposal, raising an eyebrow.

“Transparency about our intentions will have immediate gains. We will be one of the first hotel chains to have such a focus. Being first is incredibly important for in the industry.”

Yoongi waited until now to make these points, until this moment when the board members had already gone back and forth for a while so they were worn out from their own discussion.

It made it easier to bend them to his will.

He lowered his pen, balancing it on the end, raising an eyebrow as he looked from face to face of every board member, every one of them older than him. They did not want to listen to him, but they were listening now because Yoongi knew when to pick his moment and what points to strike for the greatest effect. He knew when and how to take control.

Of situations and people.

It was, in some ways, his specialty.

“And we want to be first, do we not?”

After that, the board had the vote.

Of course, they voted in favor of the more expensive, eco-friendly proposal.

On the dot, the exact minute Jeon Jungkook was supposed to lock up, the bell on the door jingled.

This time, he did not inwardly groan and be annoyed. He was waiting for this moment, this opening of the door and that elegant form stepping in, slick black patent high heels, sheer stockings, pinstriped black pencil skirt, flowing white silk blouse, neatly pinned hair with a glittering crystal hairpin holding back the right side, keeping spare strands away from your face.

One hand clutching the black briefcase, the other stylishly balanced on the door, stepping into his space.

“Good evening, Jungkook.”

The way you smiled at him made his heart flutter.

He was so fucking screwed.

“Just a moment. Let he finish up,” he said cheerfully, screaming the inside, wanting to run to you and tear your clothes off and kiss every centimeter of your skin, wanting to bite and leave his marks all over you, needing to remind you that you were his, his, his.

Instead, Jungkook carefully taped down the plastic around the tattoo and gave the customer the tub of aftercare cream, all the while providing instructions them how to take care of their new ink, handing them the written directions in case they forgot. It wasn’t their first tattoo, but it was part of the protocol.

“And that’s it. You’re all set.”

He ended his short speech with a smile, collecting his tools for sterilization.

Jungkook wanted to tell the young woman to get the fuck out so he could ravage you.

Instead, she was checking out her new tattoo of the tree of life on her upper right arm. Today had been the completion of the coloring and shading, the sky colored in a teal-turquoise gradient. He was proud to say it was some of his best work along with the small, detailed leaves.

“Wow…”

The young woman turned around and thanked him, bowing repeatedly. Jungkook raised his hands, shaking his head, saying it was his pleasure. The young woman carefully slipped on her large hoodie, turning to see you standing there, waiting patiently for him.

“Your girlfriend?” she teased.

Jungkook felt his ears heat, his eyes flickering to you. “Ah…”

You weren’t looking at him. You had straight posture, heels together, left hand holding your briefcase, right hand behind your back. Even the slight tilt of your head gave your profile an ethereal quality, leaving him breathless.

You blinked slowly.

Eyes now on him, viewing him through your periphery.

The slightest hint of a smirk.

Jungkook could not explain the feeling you gave him.

“Yes.”

“Hello, Yoongi.”

Instead of speaking, he reached out and wrapped his hand around your head, pulling you to him, lips on yours, falling into the hunger. Spoiling your perfectly done hair, tangling it with his fingers, standing at his full height so you had to tiptoe to hold on, moaning at the way his tongue traced your lips, teasing you, making you want him, crave him, need him.

Yoongi knew the reality.

The reality was, the one who needed was him.

He let his hand slide down, sinking his fingers into your skin, pushing down your black silk robe, one nail down your spine, your gasps in his mouth, building the moment, feeling your hands on his suit jacket, clutching the lapels tightly, inhaling your scent.

Blackberries and the ocean.

Yoongi murmured your name softly, snapping your bra strap against your back.

You paused, looking up at him through your lashes, no makeup, beauty marks dotting your cheeks, the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, waiting for his words. His other hand was still in his pocket. Slow, even breaths, quelling the anxious hum of his own pulse that threatened to show in his touch.

You relaxed your hold on his suit, palms flat against his chest.

Patient.

It amazed him how in tune you were with him, how you seemed to sense the difference in tone so easily, how you seemed to know the difference between being attentive and submissive.

Yoongi had let himself in because you had previously given him the key. He had found you at your vanity, carefully doing your hair. You knew he was coming. He knew you would hear him entering. He had waited for a moment at the doorframe, watching you brush through the soft waves you had created, meticulous.

Your eyes had found his in the mirror, a slow smile on your lips.

And then you greeted him, standing up, black silk robe loosely tied, matching black lace bra and panties, the high French-cut revealing the ‘GOOD LUCK’ tattoo, geometric lotus and Sith Order tattoo covered by the robe, falling into his possessive kiss and touch, now waiting for him to elaborate.

There were many times like this, with just him but also when Jungkook was involved, moments when Yoongi would say your name and he would pause, staring into your eyes, wondering when he would say it, trying to tell himself it was only obsession, but Yoongi was not a pretender, and he knew what was happening even if he did not think this feeling would ever happen to him. He thought he was too seasoned, too jaded, too cold.

He tilted his head and kissed you again, softer this time.

Yoongi knew when and how to take control.

Of situations and people.

The only one he didn’t know how to control was himself.

“Take off my clothes,” he ordered.

“Give me your mark, Jungkook.”

Maybe you hadn’t heard. Maybe you hadn’t noticed what the young woman had asked before she left.

The door was locked, shades pulled, you laying on your side on the lowered chair, looking at him, mauve lipstick smeared, shirt half-unbuttoned, his bite marks on your cleavage, hands tied behind your back with his belt. Legs still trapped in your black pinstriped pencil skirt, one over the another. It was expensive, the thick material and the delicate craftsmanship, princess seams with a slight sheen to the black-on-black stripes, outlining your hips.

Jungkook wanted to rip your skirt so bad.

He wanted to rip it off your body and fuck you with the shreds of your clothing around him. But you would leave his shop after this and he could not bear the idea of others seeing the perfect body that was his, his, his.

Jungkook leaned forward, placing his knuckle under your chin, staring into your eyes.

He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, smearing your lipstick more, a mess, his mess, leaning in and flitting his tongue over your open lips, savoring your moan, ravenous for your sound, towering over you, hand slipping down, drawing a line of your own lipstick on your skin, sliding his fingers under the cup of your white lace bra, toying with your nipple.

“On your back.”

You did as you were told.

I don’t lie. I obey.

He straddled your body, the chair creaking at the sudden added weight, but Jungkook didn’t care, he just didn’t care, because nothing mattered to him but pushing down your bra straps and scooping your breasts out, pinching your nipples and pulling up harshly, forcing your back to arch, a pained whine escaping your throat, your ribs pressed against his jeans, a smirk on his lips as he admired the picture of you writhing under him, moaning at his roughness.

“Who owns you?”

The way you looked up at him from under your lashes, hazy and shivering with lust, whimpering as he twisted your nipples in his fingers, demanding an answer.

“Y-You, Jungkook…”

He let go, diving down, slamming his body onto you, grabbing your head and capturing your lips, silencing your howl with his mouth, your sensitive nipples rubbing against his shirt, his necklaces hitting your collarbones, raising you up, thrusting his tongue into your lips, messy and slippery, chest to chest, growling your name into your throat.

“Mine.”

One of his hands slipped to the right side of your face, pressing a finger into the pulse point under your right ear, forcefully breaking the kiss to turn your head, staring at the space that he would mark you, the spot where he was about to tattoo an exclamation point, his.

His.

You wanted to be his.

He breathed in.

Blackberries and the sea.

And sweetness. Sweetness, pooling between your legs.

Jungkook grinned against your skin, dark whisper of lust in your ear, enjoying your shiver.

“You are mine.”

Yoongi found that he liked it when you held his rings. There was just something about it, your fingers curled into fists, his platinum and white gold rings hanging off, too big for you, framed by white knuckles. He had put great thought into the ones he put on this morning, thinking about seeing them bunched up in your hands.

Diamonds embellishing his diamond.

He had you on your knees in front of him, your mouth stuffed with his cock, him wearing nothing but his open dress shirt, surrounded by his clothes and your undergarments, your hair collected in his right hand, the other in his own, running his fingers through his black hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He saw the effect it had in your eyes, hazy with desire, full all the way to the back of your throat, tongue straining as you licked his balls with effort, dripping saliva down your chin, struggling to breathe.

Yoongi always appreciated the pretty picture you provided him.

He never stayed longer than a night. He had things to do.

Too many things, honestly.

He pulled back and you retreated your tongue, lips wrapped around him, soft and tight, anticipating his sudden thrust back into your throat, burying himself as deep as possible, waiting for you to gag, but of course you didn’t, closing your eyes, enjoying the roughness.

“So greedy for the pain.”

One eye opening partway, darkened by your lashes and consumed by lust.

Asking him to play you, pluck your strings and make them sing for him.

“I’m going to stay all weekend with you.”

Yoongi simply decided it, just now. It wasn’t his usual pattern but, then again, you always broke his pattern.

Oh well.

He was starting to get used to it.

He began to fuck your face, rolling his hips into your mouth, slow but deep, building a rhythm, savoring the feeling, warmth and wetness and servitude, tightening his grip in your hair, leaving you nothing but parts of seconds to breathe, tits bouncing with the ferocity of his pace. He did not bother with speed. He had all weekend. He wanted to savor it, cherish it, make your jaw ache from tension, make your throat sore with how roughly the swollen tip was hitting it, filling your mouth with his hard length over and over, his wet balls smacking your chin.

Listening to your whines trapped in your throat, wanting it and him.

He let your name fall from his lips, coaxing you, encouraging you, shuddering at the effect your name had on him, erotic and sensual because it was never spoken outside of this context, a little faster at the sound of your muffled moan, the vibration humming through him, shimmering through his nerves, accumulating the complexity of the chords, a little harder, closing his eyes, his head tipping back, yanking on your hair with every deep stroke, cock sandwiched between your tongue and the roof of your mouth, losing himself in the sensation, the feeling he craved and obsessed over, telling himself it was just this, just this raw, visceral face-fucking, just the idea that he could do anything and you would take it and take it well, but, alas.

Yoongi was not a pretender.

It was more than that.

Because he would open his eyes and look down at your face, seeing you gazing back up at him, blown-out pupils and wearing nothing but his rings, pushing your tits together with your arms to add to the visual, and he would get harder, twitching in your mouth, clenching his jaw at the softness and the tightness, nearing the end, his ears ringing with your whimpers and his own pulse, a little rougher, turning your eyes glass-like, reflecting his own face in them.

There was an omission of admission, in words, but not in action.

He thrust his hips hard into your throat with a hiss of your name, spilling thick strings of cum and forcing you to swallow, smirking at the pleasurable sensation of you drinking him greedily and rapidly, running his hand through your hair, soothing your scalp. This.

This was gratification.

“Stand,” Yoongi growled.

You were so good at listening.

And yet.

You stood up, still holding his rings, and he grabbed your arm, trying to make you drop them, but of course you didn’t, eyes shifting to look at him in your periphery, smirk in your swollen lips.

“Hands up.”

You lifted your hands and his eyes followed, watching you raise them up, up, stretching them out over your head, backs of your hands against each other, holding his rings with elegantly splayed fingers.

“Tiptoe.”

You did.

“Don’t move.”

It was a warning as much as it was a command.

Yoongi leaned down, lips on your skin, seeing previous marks from another mouth, chuckling, tracing them with his tongue. He caught your flesh between his teeth, biting down, causing you to gasp as he sucked, leaving bruises, thinking about the marks on your cleavage that he was now overlapping with his own. He made each one purposeful and painful, soothing the irritated skin with his wet tongue, covering you in his saliva. He was sure the maker of the previous marks had done the same, although more likely in a hurried, wild manner compared to his deliberate, leisurely pace.

That was Jungkook’s style, after all.

“Yoongi…?”

“Do you think he will come?”

His tongue curled around your hard nipple, flicking it expertly, his fingers closing in on the other, making you tremble at the touch.

“I d-don’t know… He might be busy…”

“Doesn’t he want to spend time with you?” Yoongi murmured, pinching the other nipple harshly as he left gentle kisses on the first, juxtaposing it with his soft but sharp tone. “With me?”

“He always… a-ah, Yoongi… always likes it when you can come.”

“Hm.”

He switched sides and hands, plucking at your nipples until they were hard and engorged, toying with them until your legs were shaking from strain at the position, moaning above him, pleading for him to stop and let you rest, and he pushed you a little more, a little more, your body flinching at the sensitivity as he lifted his head, placing the pads on his middle fingers on your nipples, holding them in place with his index and ring finger, rubbing hard and fast.

He could smell your juices dripping between your legs.

“Let’s send Jungkook a little incentive.”

Yoongi did not ask.

He did not need to, for you would tell him if it was something you did not want. That was your role as the sub and he knew you took your role very, very seriously.

He went to your vanity picked up your phone.

He had not told you to relax yet, so you did not, legs trembling from tension, gracefully poised like a dancer, holding his rings, thighs pressed together to maintain posture, his bites on your skin overlapping Jungkook’s previous marks, your nipples hard and abused from his touch, sticking out.

You smiled, tongue between your teeth.

Yoongi opened the camera app and took a single picture, sending it to the contact labeled with an exclamation mark. Only the photo, no text. He glanced at it, the composition, the pose, the way the light gleamed off your skin.

He was not disappointed.

You were stunning.

“On the bed.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

Traced the spot under your left ear, breathing out.

You often thought, I am over it now, but you were always proven wrong.

You sighed and placed your hands on the edge of the sink, standing in the pristine bathroom at the accounting firm. Steady, even breaths.

It was the little things.

Truly, no one at your job had anything bad to say about you. Even if you slipped and one of your tattoos showed, no one batted an eye as you fixed your sleeve or your hair. Even your superiors didn’t mind. You had been working here for a long time and everyone knew you had tattoos. No one talked about them in length or spoke down at you.

However.

Occasionally an older client would arrive and perhaps spot your rolled-up sleeve and you would have to quickly exit from their accusing stares and off-hand comments, gliding into the shadows as your co-workers stepped in and took over. It wasn’t them you disliked. The older generation, especially the rich with their contrived manners, had their feelings about tattoos. That was fine. It was a product of their time, a residual concept that remained with the stubbornness of age.

But the other feeling.

The feeling you were inconveniencing someone else because of your tattoos.

Your choices.

Your existence.

That brought back memories.

It wasn’t rational, you knew. This was work. You shared the workload. Hell, you yourself wrote the procedure of standard work so everyone was familiar with the same process and could seamlessly take over in case anyone went on vacation. Everything was a collaboration and that was intentional because, at the end of the day, the client was the one who mattered.

You knew this.

You sighed again, smoothing out your hair.

Still, the human brain was stubbornly against you.

When it was you and Kim Seokjin, your sex life very clearly served a purpose for both you and him. In some ways, however, you could see it had spoiled you. Between you and Seokjin, there was no real romance. Comradery, rapport, chemistry, yes. Love, yes. There was no one who could replace the experiences Seokjin gave you and you were quite sure it was the same for him. But it felt more like companionship than romance. Thus, you never had to think much about it. It was very much a release of a feeling both you and Seokjin could share with no one else and then you were both satisfied until the build-up for next time.

The internal annoyance you felt right now – annoyance at another for pointing out your ink and making a classist comment about the quality of the accounting firm, annoyance at inconveniencing a coworker to come over and redirect the discussion, annoyance at yourself for being annoyed, annoyance at the sudden berating spiral your brain was currently threatening you with – all this could be channeled into a session with Seokjin and forgotten easily. It helped you let go, just like how it helped Seokjin let go of any negative feelings he had from external and internal pressures.

It helped you both grow and change, reaching a point where you and him felt confident in who you were becoming. Seokjin had wanted to make sure you still had that. He wanted to focus on his career and fame, but he urged you to find like-minded people who supported your interests. You suspected there was a reason for that.

You looked in the bathroom mirror, scowling slightly at your reflection.

Probably moments like this.

In any case, you did find such people. Two, in fact.

You lifted your hair on the left, revealing the semicolon.

Min Yoongi.

Closed your eyes, recalling the moments he composed. You often thought people like him were pampered, far too refined to be doing depraved things and give in to such a crass sin like lust, and Yoongi proved you wrong, every time. He turned pain into art and art into pleasure, pleasure that bled into layers of details that fitted together like the many instruments of a grand orchestra, a composition so delicate and sensual that it seemed too precious to end.

You opened your eyes, remembering his.

Eyes that reminded you of midnights and moonlight.

You turned your head, slowly, brushing back stray strands, uncovering the space under your right ear.

The exclamation point.

You stared at it.

It was scabbing over.

He had held your head very carefully when tattooing it onto you. He went through all the correct steps, hygiene and sterilization included, incredibly serious about his own work. All of your tattoos were done by him. You traced them, trailing your fingers over your clothes, memories of him furrowing his brows, biting down on his lower lip and focusing deeply to etch his work onto you, even when you knew he wanted nothing more than to shove his cock into you and fuck you into the very tattoo chair you were laying on.

Your annoyance was vanishing little by little.

It was hard to regret your tattoos when they were done by none other than Jeon Jungkook.

The side of your lips curved upward.

Jungkook had made you hike up your skirt and spread your legs wide when he pricked the exclamation point onto you. He wanted to see your blouse open, pencil skirt bunched to your waist, thigh-high stockings and garter belt exposed. Wanted your panties soaked. Wanted to smell your arousal.

You were a little bit of a masochist.

The pain of the needle was far too short. It was only a small tattoo, after all.

Jungkook, however, had made sure to make up for it after he put his tools away.

"Here. And here."

A hold.

"Press."

Pressure.

His lips parted instinctively, abruptly injected with slight panic at the cutoff of blood flow, stemming it to a sputtering trickle, heartbeat racing. The head of black hair lowered, raspy whisper against his ear.

"Do you feel it, Jungkook?"

This.

Power.

This was the power of someone who knew they had it, power harnessed and controlled, power of one none other than Min Yoongi, not from his money or his social status, but within, an animal Jeon Jungkook recognized, realizing that his was untamed, unrefined compared to the apex predator within Yoongi.

He was sitting in front of the vanity in the penthouse suite, chin tilted up, Yoongi's hand fitted around his neck, those pale fingers dotted with gleaming rings. Jungkook stared at his reflection in pristine, high-quality, reflective glass, his long black hair framing his face, arrogant and defiant eyes narrowing, shutting his lips as soon as he noticed they were open, mole below his lower lip trembling.

Not from fear.

Anticipation.

The first few buttons of his black dress shirt were open, revealing the silver chain glinting on his collarbones. Jungkook always felt the need to dress well when he was on Yoongi's stomping grounds. He still was no match for Yoongi's tailored navy pinstriped vest, matching slacks, crisp white shirt, and platinum collar pins.

Orchids.

"Answer me," the older man commanded, soft and stern.

On the vanity was a vase of fresh flowers.

Mauve carnations, not yet open, giving the appearance of green flowers.

The hand around his neck tightened and Jungkook felt it, skin prickling with goosebumps, suddenly so hot even with his sleeves rolled up, black slacks too tight, thighs tensing at the foreign feeling, head in the clouds.

"Y... Yeah, I fucking feel it," Jungkook hissed, surprising himself as he realized he could still speak quite evenly, swallowing a breath, easy, but, shit, it didn't feel easy somehow. He could see what was happening, view the position of Yoongi's fingers around his neck, his thumb below one ear and four fingers on the other side, right under the pulse points, but what Jungkook didn't understand was why shivers were threatening from within, arousal pooling in his core.

He avoided eye contact.

Yoongi let go.

"You're not paying attention."

It took everything in him to keep his breathing steady and heart rate under control. The other man hadn't even touched his windpipe.

He just didn't understand.

"I am."

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow and still Jungkook skirted his gaze.

"I am paying attention... hyung."

"Then turn around and choke me."

Jungkook wasn’t sure if he regretted asking Yoongi to teach him erotic asphyxiation or not.

He turned, raising his hand, looking up from that slim waist, pinned handkerchief with a designer logo, up the mother-of-pearl buttons, past the orchid collar pins, stopping at Yoongi's neck.

"Look at me."

The other man's tone was sharp, hints of underlying meaning. You will respect me.

Jungkook lifted his head and made eye contact with Yoongi.

Pointed, observant, dark brown orbs watched his every move. His tattooed fingers closed in on the sides of that slim neck. Jungkook set his jaw, narrowing his eyes, trying to hide his emotions behind irritation, but it was a fruitless endeavor.

Yoongi's hand shot out and clamped around Jungkook's neck.

He jerked back, trying to escape, but the older man's grip only tightened, making him freeze.

"Watch your palm," Yoongi murmured, voice thin and wispy.

With a start Jungkook realized his palm was inadvertently pressing on the Adam's apple and he raised it away, not letting go yet.

"Power is in your fingers. Palm relaxed. Watch the skin tone. Not too fast and not too long."

As he spoke, Yoongi flexed his hold on Jungkook's neck, displaying the various levels and varying effects. Slightly lower. Slightly higher. Softer, but locking the fingers to display power. Harder, using the back of the hand to push the chin back, wordlessly demanding submission. Jungkook found himself mirroring him, fascinated.

A slow, open-mouthed smirk from those shapely lips.

Yoongi's grip tightened, choking him.

Jungkook's grip loosened, suddenly airless.

"Are you paying attention?"

The other man's voice was so low, so deep, invading his head.

"Y-Yes..."

The world felt hazy, unreal, the shadows leaping out, everything inside him hot, tight, on fire, sinking down, darkness seeping in. Why did it feel like he could see nothing but Yoongi's face hovering over him? Those lashes lowered over cat-like eyes, turning brown to black, an elegant hand catching Jungkook's wrist as it slipped, bringing them closer, eye-to-eye, and Jungkook couldn’t think, lightheaded, on air, hanging by a thread, a soft, low voice murmuring to him, dark, saturated whispers enveloping all his senses, until it was just him and Yoongi's hold on him.

"Do you feel it?"

Staring into those pointed eyes that had him on the edge, that handsome fair-skinned face peering down at him, and, strangely, a moment, something dawning onto him, finally making Jungkook see so very clearly as the blackness threatened his periphery.

The world was more than black and white.

"I... f-feel it... hyung..."

His voice sounded far away.

The hesitation wasn't from restriction.

Yoongi released him.

Blood thundering back, shooting into his vessels, oxygen searing into his brain, rocketing him into forced euphoria, and Jungkook gasped, pitching forward, caught by strong hands and waiting arms, his forehead hitting that expensive designer vest, shuddering all over, nerves singing, pulse roaring in his ears.

"You're okay," the deep voice said above him. "I got you."

The rush.

Fuck.

The rush.

Could he give you this feeling, this high, this rush?

Jungkook didn't know.

He was panting hard, lifting his head, looking into the mirror, his black hair messy, pupils dilated, pink lips trembling. His right brow piercing gleamed silver, his black hair all over his forehead, unruly from the lost control, his body still humming from the thrill.

"One more time," he breathed, glancing up, finding Yoongi's eyes in the mirror.

A dark eyebrow lifted.

Wordless.

The pale hand fitted around his neck once more, long fingers pinpointing the pulse points, and this time Jungkook watched his own reflection until he hit his limit.

"You look so good with my mark on you."

You watched Jungkook pull his t-shirt over his head, his silver chain necklaces jingling, falling back down into his muscular, tanned chest with a musical clink. He tossed it aside, leaving him in his jeans, his black hair pushed back from the action, revealing his right eyebrow piercing and his smirk, tattooed arm winding behind your back, sliding you towards him.

Your arms were still tied behind your back with his belt, skirt bunched at your waist, chest exposed, bra half-on. Jungkook tilted his head, lifting his free hand and tracing the bra cup, geometric lotus tattoo visible in his inner left forearm.

"How expensive is this?"

You sensed the unease in his tone despite him trying to mask it with nonchalance. You chuckled. "I thought when I was in your presence, I was yours, Jungkook."

His fingers stilled.

You leaned forward, your body pressing into his right arm, his black tattoos flush against your breasts covered in red marks of his bites.

"Go ahead," you purred.

His dark brown eyes flickered down to you. A fleeting pause. You raised an eyebrow and the side of your lips, challenging him.

"Do what you want to me, Jungkook."

You hooked your left leg around his hip and pulled him closer. His eyes darkened, amusement ghosting over his features, no longer in the plane of uncertainty, carelessly wandering into the wildfire that was burning between you, following your sweet scent. His hand dropped.

You saw him reach into his back pocket and pull out a switchblade.

Black. He snapped it open with one hand. Matte black blade, gleaming in the overheard lights of the tattoo shop.

"You look pretty in your lingerie," he drawled, tone slipping into a lower octave, sliding the blade between the two cups, sharp side facing him. "But it's in the way."

Jungkook flicked his wrist.

The fabric sliced cleanly. You sucked in a breath, feeling the tension of the straps go slack, shivering at the sharpness of the blade, catching his eye.

He smiled at you, gently.

You relaxed.

"Spread your legs."

You obeyed, his heat backing up, pressing your thighs flush to the side of the leather chair, watching Jungkook spin the switchblade handle with his fingers, catching it in his grip with a devilish grin.

Shirtless, tattooed, holding a knife.

You tilted your head, wetness leaking, following his actions, dull pricks of pain radiating from the fresh tattoo, unashamed at the exposed position, patient, locked into those dark brown orbs, causing Jungkook to cease his hand movement, gripping the knife tightly, stepping forward again.

He was holding his breath.

You waited for him.

His left hand lifted and a single fingertip traced the space where your right leg and crotch connected, that dip of flesh barely exposed by your high, French-cut panties, such a light and feathery touch that you whimpered, holding Jungkook with your eyes, your lips parting, leaning forward a little, raising your chest with your inhale. Another step. He was right in front of you now, tips of his black hair falling over his cheekbones, extending the moment.

A little unlike him, and yet...

"You always smell so fucking good," Jungkook growled.

He wasn't talking about your perfume.

His fingers hooked around your panties and you gasped at the graze of his knuckles against your hot, slick skin, turning into a moan as Jungkook yanked upward, twisting the drenched fabric in his hand, digging the bunched-up cloth into your throbbing pussy, instant harsh friction on your clit, your body involuntarily drawing back a little to relieve the sudden tension but Jungkook only pulled harder, arching a dark eyebrow.

"Stop."

You froze, holding the position, balancing on your fingertips to hold up the small of your back, panting.

"Jungkook, p-please..."

He drove your panties into your ass and pussy some more, stretching the lace out, audible rips at his forceful action, sending stings of delicious pain up your spine.

"Fuck it."

You clenched your jaw and wiggled your hips, gasping at the sensation of the collected seams rubbing against your sensitive clit, your own viscous juices adding to the slip, tiptoes of your heels touching the floor, finding a rhythm, hearing your panties rip further, the only sound besides your thin breathing and the leather creaking against your ass.

That and the inevitable lewd noise of your aching pussy being abused by Jungkook grasping the front of your panties and digging them brutally into your ass, pussy, and clit.

You angled your hips down, moaning at the additional pressure on your inflamed bundle of nerves, increasing the pleasure, your pussy lips turning puffy and red, burning under those dark brown orbs watching you, chasing the climax, fully expecting him to end it earlier than expected, and yet you climbed and climbed and climbed, muscles tensing, perhaps, almost, maybe...

The blade flashed in the lights.

Jungkook cut the tension away, tearing a pleading whine from your throat as he casually sliced your panties off your body with two quick cuts and flicked the switchblade closed, shoving it back in his back pocket. He tugged and you lifted your ass, shutting your eyes to push down the tears and the frustration, flinching as he peeled your dirty, ruined panties from your body and threw them to the floor with a wet smack.

Your name fell from his lips, silvery and sultry.

Your eyes opened.

His right hand fitted around your neck.

Your eyes widened, seeing his defined forearm and plethora of tattoos, his sleeve laid out in front of your eyes as he balanced for fingers on the left side of your neck and his thumb on your right, careful not to touch your new tattoo, following the blood vessel, leaving a pocket between his thumb and forefinger for your trachea.

You caught his voracious gaze.

Jungkook smirked.

"I asked hyung to teach me."

His grip tightened and you felt it, thinning circulation, falling into it, his lips suddenly on yours, a heated kiss, his powerful tongue thrusting into your mouth, fucking your lips, claiming them, your moan in his throat. Your back arched, pressing your chest to his chest, your sore nipples tingling, shivers all over, lustfully exhaling in Jungkook's mouth and listening to his satisfied groan, his free hand gripping your thigh, lifting his chest from yours, breaking the kiss, strings of saliva snapping, pushing your chin up with the back of his hand, your body falling back, lightheadedness sinking in, yelping as his mouth attacked your skin – lips, tongue, teeth – down the curve of your breasts, biting, sucking, tweaking and pinching to your abused nipples at the same time, his hot lips surrounding them, sucking hard and flicking the engorged sensitive nubs with that wet, strong muscle, your depraved moans vibrating his hand, your torso rising to get more, filling Golden Closet Tattoo with the scent of sweet, sinful sex and his name in weak gasps of ecstasy.

Jungkook was choking you.

And he knew how to do it right.

You would have to thank Yoongi with your body later.

He lessened the pressure for a second and oxygen came rushing back, sending you reeling, suddenly yelping at the slap between your legs, pain flaring up your core, struggling to see the brief image of your pussy juices covering Jungkook's palm through your hazy vision before he licked it off with a snarling hiss, and then again – smack! – gargling moan dying in your throat as his grip closed in on your neck once more – smack! – hips rising, begging for it, pleading for Jungkook and his power – smack! – leaking between his fingers, each slap of your pussy and inflamed clit getting louder because you were getting wetter, the heavy scent of your arousal soaking into his skin, covering his fingers, palm, wrist.

"Fuck, look at you, so fucking sexy..."

Your eyes dropped down, crying out at each hit, your skirt bunched at your waist, stockings and garter belt still on, bare pussy at Jungkook's mercy, his erection molded to his jeans, sliding down one leg with how hard he was, then shifting up, his face, fuck, strands of black hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, silver eyebrow piercing glistening, brown eyes narrowed and dark with desire, sly smirk on his shapely lips, yanking you towards him by your throat, your legs shaking and struggling to hold yourself up. His lips crashed onto yours, letting go of your neck and grabbing your head, plunging three fingers into your aching, sore pussy, you screaming into his mouth at the burst of oxygen and the sudden fullness of your abused core, your eyes rolling back, feeling so good you nearly blacked out, pain and pleasure stinging your scalp, his fingers tangled in your hair, clutching it tightly, breaking the kiss once more.

"Who is making you feel this good?" he snarled, hot breath in to your face, wildfire uncontrolled, orgasm crashing down and overwhelming you, his fingers still going, no pause, only passion, barely able to make eye contact.

"Y-You, Jungkook...!"

Again, forced to the skyrocketing high, hopelessly lost in it, legs giving out, supported only by Jungkook's fingers ramming into your spasming pussy, again, his hold tightening, say to my name again, scream it, let the world know who you belong to, control deteriorating, over the edge, your spasming walls clamping down onto his fingers and forehead hitting his, nearly sobbing with ecstasy, pouring all that was left into his name, eye to eye, two animals trapped in carnal pleasure.

"Jungkook!"

You came so hard that you almost broke out of his embrace, but he held on, freezing your head in place as you collapsed against his cheek, drained moan and jerking hips, spraying all over his hand and forearm, so much liquid that it slid down your inner thighs and soaked your stockings, getting into his jeans, your sweet scent suddenly painted all over him.

"Fuck..."

Your body seemed numb, eyes closing, falling into it, falling into him.

"You're so fucking hot..."

Irresistible.

You weren't good at lip service, except when they were his.

He drew back, lips leaving yours, your tongue still extended, feeling sore and used from how hard he had been toying with it, your back still arched, clutching his rings to your chest, your eyes slowly opening, surfacing from the stupor that Min Yoongi had put you in with his kiss. He tucked the remote into your ring-covered fingers as you lowered back into the bed, looking up at him.

Yoongi cocked a dark eyebrow under black hair, naked, towering, rolling a condom down his thick length, delicate platinum chain bracelets glimmering in his wrists.

He was so very beautiful and handsome at the same time.

He breathed your name like smoke.

Like poison, the sound ate up all your nerves and made you numb with his tone alone.

"Y... Yoongi..."

Something about his voice was doing things to you, just his voice, fuck, what was he doing to you?

"Turn it on."

He shoved his cock into your waiting pussy.

You gasped and pressed the power button on the remote.

"F-Fuck!"

I love the way you hurt me, Yoongi.

Instant, violent, shattering throbs assaulting your lower half from the anal vibrator buried into your ass, Yoongi's unforgiving hardness slamming into your pussy, his hands on your thighs, pushing them to your stomach, fucking you hard and fast, wave after wave of searing pleasure devouring you, clutching his rings and the remote, gasping for air.

"Hold it."

Not a question. A command.

You pressed his rings to your breasts, hard metal against soft flesh, tensing your muscles, teeth sinking into your lower lip, wrapped up in it, the relentless pulsation, Yoongi's cock filling you up and stretching you out, his hips slapping into yours, wet and obscene, the low hiss falling from his teeth at your tightness, layer upon layer, gazes locking, fire in those sharp dark brown orbs, every thrust punishing, powerful, rough.

A little unlike him, and yet...

Yoongi leaned down, hitting you deeper, harder.

You whimpered, trapped between him and the mattress.

"Do you feel it?"

Slap!

"Oooh, fuck, yes, Yoongi..."

He smirked, devious and in control.

"I see you have a new tattoo."

He spoke very calmly, not even out of breath, slowing his pace so he could fuck you harder, brutal thrusts of his cock expanding your walls and increasing the intensity of the vibrations, causing you to struggle to listen, nearly slipping into the forced pleasure that seemed endless and eternal.

"J-Jungkook wanted it on me..."

"Press the up button."

"Yoongi, p-please..."

"I will not repeat myself," Yoongi cut in icily, lifting an eyebrow.

You whined, wanting it, obeying, whine turning into a wail as the speed and pulses amplified, knuckles turning white from tightening your core around the vibrator and his rock-hard cock.

"Again."

This time you didn't protest, pressing the button and throwing your head back into your pillows, squirming under him from the torrential pleasure, tumbling over with edge with orgasmic, fervent groans, thrusting your hips up, fucking him back through your high, hoping he didn't notice.

After all, Yoongi hadn't given or denied permission.

He said nothing.

Instead, his fingers wrapped around your neck.

"Look at me."

Fighting the daze of euphoria, blinking hard, seeing that small smile dancing on Yoongi's dark pink lips, black-brown eyes glimmering under strands of black hair, catching your breath only to be left breathless at his gaze, and then he cut off your circulation.

Something flashed in his eyes.

Elation.

Desire.

And...

Your lips parted and time seemed to stop.

"I... need you..." you choked out.

Yoongi leaned down, left hand pressing your right leg into your torso, closing the space between you and him, still buried completely inside you.

"I know you do."

His voice seeping into you, sultry, low, raw, rasp ringing in your head, starting the pace again, building it, step by step, the vibrations an afterthought of throbbing pleasure, clearly loud and rough from the sound and pressure, but that wasn't what you were feeling, the pain shimmering to a different level of stimulation, all the thoughts emptying out, lost only in Yoongi's hands and cock and body, eyes closing and rolling back, hips rising, chasing it, chasing him, hitting the tumultuous peak, thin drawn-out moan escaping from your throat, oxygen thundering back, hitting the up button by accident, howl of ecstasy cut short by Yoongi's strong fingers again, pleasure pounding into you relentlessly, endlessly, perfectly, unable to speak or think or breathe, such intense orgasms that your cum was dripping down both your inner thighs, thick and sweet and hot, both holes pushed to the brink, filled to the brim, clutching Yoongi's rings, his beautiful possessions in your hands, riches and jewels, but the true invaluable was in his hand.

Yoongi moaned your name.

You opened your eyes, fighting the lightheadedness, locking your gaze with his, his lips moving.

"I need you."

Your lips parted.

I know you do.

The crescendo.

Yoongi suddenly let go of your throat and planted his hand on the bed, sending you into a spiral of rushing blood, clawing for breath, thrown to the apex, flashes of light in your vision as your orgasm barreled into you, shooting up from your core and right past your racing heart into your brain, flooding out every thought until there was nothing but pure, raw, primal pleasure, clenching and pulsating around Yoongi's jerking cock, his fingernails digging into your thigh with his sensual hiss of release, thick spurts of cum filling the condom, thoroughly massaging his twitching length, forcing everything out.

Erotic bliss.

You almost didn't even register Yoongi prying the remote from your hand, turning the vibrator off and tossing it aside, barely even felt his hands slide under your head, messing up your hair, lips to your forehead, ghost of his words on your skin.

"I need you."

His tone was not guiding you to a headspace.

His tone was honest and it was for you.

You couldn't speak.

You turned your head, dull ache flaring from your neck from being choked, finding Yoongi's lips, pressing yours to his, your ring-covered hands spreading out shakily, fingertips to his chest, cradling his thundering heartbeat.

The tattoo shop reeked of sex.

Your briefcase was open, a spare pen and your phone pulled out, ripped condom wrapper beside it.

A black leather belt was on the ground, discarded along with your ripped panties and the pieces of your bra. A half-dozen bobby pins were scattered onto the ground. The hardwood was still slick with your juices.

Lust painted on the floor.

Jungkook’s hand was in your hair, forcing your head straight, not letting you move it as he shoved his entire length into you with one swift stroke, pinning you against the wall. Your arms were around his torso, clawing into his back. His jeans were still half-on and your skirt was still around your waist, your blouse hanging off your elbows. Still wearing your stockings and heels because Jungkook didn’t let you take any of it off, I want to see it, want to see you ruined by me, glittering crystal hairpin still holding back the right side of your hair, keeping spare strands away from his newest mark on you, focused on meeting his hips with yours, skin-to-skin, smacking ‘GOOD LUCK’ into his crotch.

“Jungkook, fuck, fuck…”

He was so strong that every thrust nearly lifted you off your heels, hooking one leg around his waist, your scent all over him, coated with it, skin, clothes, body, reflecting in his dark, dark eyes, pupils blown out, brows furrowed and jaw clenched, one hand gripping your ass and the other your hair, driving his hardness into you, black hair all over his face, sweet dripping down his high cheekbones, cocking an eyebrow and smirking as he noticed your stare, leaning in, pink tongue extending.

He licked your cheek.

Hot, wet, dripping saliva.

You whined, trying to turn your head, seeking his lips, but his fingers denied you, pulling on your hair.

“Who owns you?” Jungkook drawled, dark and dangerous.

He was an animal chasing your scent, and you were the hunted.

“You, Jungkook,” was your automatic, breathless gasp. “You own me.”

You let the smile dance on your lips, his saliva dripping down your chin, your nails dragging down his back, his smirk following your smile, rolling his hips up, your ass smacking into the wall, visceral and unstoppable now, locked into the vicious rhythm, hot breath mixing between your heated bodies, the entire space filled from floor to ceiling with moans, pants, grunts, echoes of fervent lust and vehement desire.

“Say my name again.”

“J-Jungkook!”

Harder, faster, rougher, trapped in his embrace, fuck, he was so strong, hard muscle to your softness, fucking you against the wall, pain radiating from your shoulder blades and up your one leg supporting you, ecstasy ricocheting up your core, veins blazing with adrenaline and endorphins, pushing you to the aching high, moaning his name again, and again, and again, wanting it, craving it, starved for it, more, more, more.

I love the way you hurt me, Jungkook.

“You always smell so fucking good…”

On the edge, shudders all over, vision hazy and unfocused, ears ringing with his silvery, deep voice saturated with animalistic pleasure.

“I need you.”

Your eyes shifted to him, jerking slightly for the ferocity of each thrust, seeing his eyes fixated on your face, not looking away, only focused on you and your body unraveling under him, tits bouncing, hips trembling, witnessing your addiction to his touch and his fire, completely consumed by his pace.

You viewed him under your lashes, hoarse whisper with an open-mouthed smirk.

“I know you do.”

Your smirk widened as the irritation flared in Jungkook’s brown orbs at your words, his hand leaving your ass and delivering a harsh spank that resonated in the room, tearing the breath from your lungs, airless scream and clutching his back, dragging yourself closer so he could fuck you and punish you, moaning with each loud smack, shivering exhale against his skin, getting wetter with every hit.

“Fuck, yes, Jungkook, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…!”

“Don’t move your head and ruin my work.”

It was not a request.

You would never no matter how fucked-out you were.

“Yes, Jungkook,” you gasped obediently.

His eyes found yours and he saw you meant it with every fiber of your being.

“Good girl.”

His hand left your head.

Your eyes widened, sudden electricity eating you from the inside.

Jungkook gripped both of your hips and fucked you so hard that your hands flew off his back and braced yourself against the wall, his fingernails digging into your ass and leaving crescents of lust, length and girth stretching you out, abused clit rubbing against the base, hitting you deep and rough and fast, using you to chase his high, your pussy involuntarily clenching and wrapping around him, locking every muscle in your neck to prevent it from moving, forced to stare into his wild eyes and satisfied grin, enamored by your breathless whimper of his name.

“Jungkook, you’re… so… fucking… good… to me…”

Willingly helpless to his whims.

He clenched his jaw, hissing your name.

“Cum for me.”

He slammed you down onto his cock and you came immediately, splattering all over his crotch, pussy convulsing around his jolting cock, feeling him spill into the condom with harsh twitches, rutting his hips into you and groaning, clawing your ass and marking your skin, adding temporary tattoos in the form of his bruises and scratches, your arms around him, pressing your chest to his, cheek to cheek, his lips against your right temple, pulse roaring in your ears.

Dripping sweat, Jungkook’s large hands sliding up your waist, gripping handfuls of your silk blouse.

“I need you.”

You couldn’t speak.

Your legs threatened to give out, whole body trembling uncontrollably, turning your head and finding his lips, kissing him deeply, splaying your fingers out on his back, your chest flush to his skin, holding his heartbeat to yours.

Your name being called.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, sorry. Just fixing my sleeves. I’m sorry for troubling you.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s no trouble. You’re doing well, as you always do.”

“Ah… Thank you.”

Your co-worker smiled at you and you smiled back, stepping away from the sink.

“Think you’re going to win employee of the month again, by the way. Boss didn’t shut up about your efficiency for ten minutes to the client…”

You frowned. “We both know that award is fraudulent.”

“Pfft, yeah, it’s literally made just to have your face on the wall because everyone else here is ugly as fuck, me included.”

You winced. “Don’t say that…”

“Let’s be honest here. Who actually spends time to look nice at work every day? Hah? That’s right, you. High heels and pencil skirts and nice blouses? Ugh, sounds like torture… no, no, you can have the award…”

Torture?

You chuckled.

They didn’t know the half of it.

“It’s only a small torture.”

“Are you kidding me? Look at those stilettos, naaah, I’m not doing that…”

Torture was relative. What was the saying again?

One person’s torture was another person’s comfort.

Heh, something like that.

You couldn’t breathe.

“Y… Yoongi… Don’t… tease…”

You heard him suck in a breath above you. Pressure. Your face in your silk sheets. Clutching all his rings in your hands, attached to them now. You suspected he wore more than usual when he came to visit you. For himself. For you. Your mind was heavy and hot, thoughts fuzzy and uncoordinated. The world was slow, sluggish, and you let it be, lost in another’s touch, in fingertips that danced over your skin. You were on your knees, ass in the air. He was straddling your back, semi-hard cock on your spine, practically sitting on you and preventing you from raising your head, nails digging into your ass and scratching harshly.

Tongue.

You gasped hotly, eyes closed, unable to see anything anyway.

Drawing warm, wet patterns, exhale on your skin, making you squirm and shiver.

Yoongi didn’t say anything.

He raked his fingernails over your ass, letting it bounce back into place with every harsh squeeze, every movement getting closer. Closer. You were running out of air, but you didn’t care. He was delicate but purposeful, a measured composition, notes following after each other, one by one – the lack of mobility, the relieving helplessness, the sensations of his skillful tongue, the pricks of pain at his punishing fingertips, the festering anticipation of what was to come, his heated breath.

He pulled all the strings taut and played you like his instrument.

Your name drifted from his lips, raspy and smoke-like.

Nothing else in your head but Min Yoongi and what he was doing to you.

“Good luck.”

You whined as he gripped the base of the vibrator and slowly pulled it from your ass, sluggish emptiness and wetness, lube dripping out, your muscles shivering at the loss.

“Y-Yoongi, please…”

It came out with a lewd, slick pop.

“Please what?” he murmured, tracing the rim your gaping asshole with the tip of the vibrator. “Tell me what you want.”

A soft, faint pressure that wasn’t enough, fuck, it wasn’t enough, your chest heaving into the mattress, needing oxygen, shifting your head and whining as the slick tip dipped into your tight hole and back out, toying with your ass, drawing leisurely circles again, gentle but too gentle, pleasurable but not pleasurable enough.

You needed it, the harshness.

“Please… need your cock in there…”

“Hm? Is that so? You need a cock in this pretty, tight little ass of yours?” Yoongi teased, using his other hand to spread you out more, your muscles constricting around nothing, wet and open and raw and waiting, waiting for whatever was coming next, trusting him and his ability to conduct the symphony of the scene, lightheaded and breathless.

Suddenly, heavy weight on the bed.

You stopped breathing.

The sound of a button being undone, a zipper lowering.

Yoongi pressed your shoulder blades down with his hips, pinning you to the sheets.

A rip of a foil packet.

“I knew you would come,” Yoongi chuckled.

A new pair of hands on your ass and you screamed into the sheets as Jeon Jungkook’s cock buried itself into your waiting ass.

“Fuck, so tight…” Jungkook hissed behind you.

The pressure was relieved and you threw you head up, gasping for air, Yoongi swiftly leaving the bed, but you had no time or ability to speak, reduced to pathetic whines as you looked back, half-slicked back black hair, eyebrow piercing glimmering in the lights, raised eyebrow and devilish smile, wearing a black leather jacket and loose white shirt, smacking his hips into your ass, his black jeans half-pushed down his thighs and chafing your thighs, viciously taking you from behind while still mostly dressed.

You viewed him from your periphery, open-mouthed smirk on your lips.

“Miss me?”

Something flashed in those dark chocolate eyes of his.

Jungkook ticked his head and cocked his chin.

“Can’t let hyung have all the fun,” he growled.

Then he thrust into you, hard, violently shooting pleasure up your spine, your elbows shaking, clawing at the sheets and throwing your head back in a moan, hair cascading down your back as he gripped your waist and rammed your ass down onto his rock-hard cock, pain and pleasure immense, blending into one and the same, pussy empty and ass full of cock, at Jungkook’s mercy and addicted to it, to him.

A firm hand gripped your shoulder and pulled you up, your body going limp, small of your back pressed down so Jungkook could fuck you deeper, harder, vision unfocused as Yoongi gripped your chin and kissed you roughly, forcing you to hold onto him, whimpers at your throat, pinching your nipples that led to tugs of pain with every aggressive slap of Jungkook’s crotch to your ass.

He broke away, strings of saliva snapping between your bodies.

“Y-Yoongi – mmphf!”

Those dark, cat-like eyes narrowed, thrusting three fingers in your mouth in time with Jungkook’s cock.

So tight.

Fuck, it was so tight and so soft, sucking in his cock just right, not quite as slick or constricting as your pussy, but there was something extra erotic and dirty about fucking your ass and watching it bounce on his hardness, his hands on your hips, his fingernails digging in that malleable flesh, far too warm in his clothes but the entire scene was still so hot, staring at your shapely back and part of your ribcage tattoo in his vision, words that he wrote on you, quiet here, but nothing quiet about the way you were wailing his name, your elbows locked and belly dipped low to take him as deep as possible, his balls smacking your soaking wet pussy.

“J-Jungkook, oh, fuuuck…!”

He looked up to see his hyung slapping your tits roughly, switching between hits to tweak your nipples and make you cry out for them, Yoongi, p-please, the black-haired man giving your panting face an indifferent expression. Jungkook leaned forward, putting more of his weight behind each thrust.

“Aren’t you grateful to have a dick in your ass, hm?” Yoongi chided.

“Yes, oh, fuck, yes, Jungkook, you’re s-so good, so good to me…!”

He growled, feeling you tighten around him, still so soft, but with the added pulse of your orgasm, covering his balls with your juices, slick and sticky and sweet, blackberries, the sea, sex, smelling so fucking good that Jungkook was losing his mind, listening to the spanking of your tits from Yoongi’s hand that was covered in your saliva, your sinful, carnal moans filling his ears, gripping your perfect hips and fucking your ass, harder, faster, rougher, your cum splattered onto his balls, thighs, pants, so good, so good, reaching up, his tattooed fingers curling in your hair and yanking your head back, sharp whimper torn from your throat, open mouth and eyes glazed over.

Your hair fell back, away from your right ear, exposing his exclamation point.

So beautiful.

Fuck.

Jungkook had left drinks with his employees early for this and didn’t regret a single second.

Yoongi shoved his fingers in your lips again, four and all at once, punishingly jamming them into your throat, and you gagged a little, saliva leaking out of your swollen lips and dripping down your chin.

That was it.

“Fuck!”

Jungkook snarled and slammed his cock into your tight heat, gasping hotly as your ass clamped around his entire jerking length, shooting his release into the condom, rutting his hips into you to feel more, that punishing grip on his cock squeezing everything out, his fingers unlatching from your hair and dragging down your back, leaving red lines of pain.

He needed this.

He needed this more than anything in the world.

Your body.

You.

Jungkook’s chest shuddered, jaw clenching, lifting his head, black strands over his eyes. He found Yoongi observing him, open-mouthed smirk dancing on his swollen, mauve lips.

Even him.

Even Min Yoongi.

“Shh…”

He loved the feeling of your hands on his forearms, his rings on your fingers pressing into his skin, your back trembling against his chest, nearing the end, coming down so you needed it slow, deep, his arms around you, fucking your ass almost leisurely.

“Ah, Yoongi…”

He collected your hair to one side and pressed his lips to your neck, travelling up, not speaking.

Yoongi didn’t trust himself to speak right now.

He felt weight back on the bed and spied Jungkook’s hand rising, gripping your chin, messy kisses that made you moan and buck in his arms, whining as that tattooed arm pressed against your stomach and strong fingers smacked your dripping pussy, hard and fast, listening to your cry out into Jungkook’s smirking mouth.

“Feels good when hyung fucks you right after me, doesn’t it?”

Yoongi gritted his teeth as he felt those fingers squelch into your pussy, scissoring and stretching your walls, your other hole clenching around his cock, pulsating from pleasure. Your head tipped back, landing on his shoulder, gasps radiating through you and into him, bouncing on cock and fingers, hips rocking and shuddering, Jungkook’s hand cradling your chin.

Yoongi made eye contact with him, the younger, reckless one.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow and grinned.

He felt he should be irritated at the interference but, somehow, he wasn’t.

“I’m staying the weekend.”

Yoongi spoke it without inflection, directly to Jungkook, forcefully thrusting into your ass at the same time. He watched the other man purse his lips, narrowing his eyes slightly, looking over to Yoongi’s hands possessively over your breasts, sinking his fingers into the softness, savoring the way your ass wrapped around his cock and the way your hips rolled back into his crotch to increase the depth of his thrust, all the while with your pussy roughly stuffed with three of Jungkook’s fingers, moaning with your mouth open before closing around the finger that Jungkook slipped onto your tongue, messy sucking noises adding to the obscene, wet sucking noise of your ass drawing him back in.

“So am I.”

Yoongi tilted his head. “Oh? Not busy?”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered upward. He leaned in, but not toward you.

Towards him.

“Not anymore,” Jungkook drawled.

Roguish little devil was learning.

Yoongi sucked in a breath and set his jaw.

Jungkook turned away, pulling his finger out of your mouth and kissed you again, long, sensual, hand on your chin.

One eye on Yoongi.

Oh?

How fun.

Yoongi leaned forward, feeling his lips curving upward, rising to the challenge, looking into that dark brown orb, seeing those lashes lower, sensing the sudden unease. Yoongi continued thrusting into you and maintaining eye contact, not looking away, his heavy exhale on your shoulder and Jungkook’s cheek, basking in the discomfort that he was causing. The scent of your skin between them, blackberries, the ocean, your orgasm, saturating the moment, imprinting it to their memories.

Jungkook had pretty eyes.

Yoongi had thought this before, when he was choking him.

“That’s good,” he purred.

And Yoongi’s tongue extended, licking your cheek.

Jungkook’s eye widened, inhaling sharply, taking your breath away.

Yoongi let go, tipping his head back and moaning deeply, satisfyingly as he came, a wave that washed through him and into his twitching cock, thick spurts and delicious twitches paired with your walls pulsing around his length, soft but so, so tight. Your thin gasp seeped into Jungkook’s lips, one hand falling from Yoongi’s arm to grab Jungkook’s forearm, squeezing it and stopping his movements as you came, messy and dripping, wet and warm sliding down your thighs.

Your body collapsed between theirs, braced by their embrace.

“Yoongi… Jungkook…”

Voice weak, shaking, euphoric.

“I need you.”

Something left unsaid in those words, and yet they knew what you meant.

You were asleep, spent, right arm tangled in Jungkook’s left, a pair of geometric lotuses between two animals, left arm tangled in Yoongi’s right, a circle with a four-sided starburst entwined between two purveyors of passion. They were both asleep, all of you on your large bed, tangled in silk sheets, the scent of sex heavy in the air.

On your nightstand was a jade dish, crowded with Yoongi’s expensive rings. Clothes everywhere, strewn all over the floor, Jungkook’s leather jacket thrown on the back of your vanity chair.

Their marks all over your home.

On your skin.

Semicolon under your left ear, belonging to Min Yoongi.

Exclamation mark under your right ear, belonging to Jeon Jungkook.

Permanent now.

2021.09.01 - JK birthday drabble, m

the right words to say, quotation mark "

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoonkook smut #yoonkook x reader #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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amberrskiies · 2 years

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What Amber Thinks of the Brothers :

Idea taken from @kitsune-oji && @choccopom

Lucifer

Literally the mom of the group that will ground her kids if they pull something the mom doesn't like. He's pretty overworked most of the time and it's kind of concerning to me. I feel like having me here is a headache to him because he already has to take care of his brothers but I can tell he means well.

Though sometimes I wonder if he gets annoyed with my BS-

Mammon

I know he doesn't mean his words when he's being rude or just doesn't know how to respond to praise but he's actually really nice and he may steal which is not something I like, but can you blame him? I honestly don't like how his brothers always treat him like he's the scum of the Earth and he's not! He's like the chaotic Older Brother I never had and technically a brother I have to get out of trouble or get dragged with

I wanna give him hugs till the day I die >:D

Leviathan

Oooh he's a tough one sometimes! I actually think he's pretty cute but he always makes it sound like he doesn't like me. Though he still invites me to watch anime with him or play games but he still calls me Normie which I don't like hearing! The fact that he's a die-hard TSL fan is something I admire and technically hearing him ramble on and on about different animes is interesting but I think he should seriously stop calling himself a 'gross and yucky otaku' cause he's not! Also I find it cute that he named his lost Snake pet Henry 1.0 and his goldfish Henry 2.0!

I actually like his bedroom tho and I wanna get along with him smoothly if he lets me ^^

Satan

If Smartness and Knowledgeable was a person, that would be Satan himself! Talking with him about different books and topics is pretty interesting to say the least. What I find interesting is that he can hide his wrath behind a smile pretty easily. We get along great coming up with pranks since we're both in the Anti-Lucifer League. Considering I like cats, he also shares his love for them too so that's fun!

He randomly reminds me of Adrien Agreste from the show Miraculous except not dense-

Asmodeus

Honestly I didn't know what to think of him at first but he's pretty energetic so we get along great! He mostly drags me with him to Majolish for clothes shopping or something and it's enjoyable. He would sometimes ask me for makeovers and other things for face care and whatnot and normally I am not a huge makeup person but I agree anyways cause he seems really happy so who am I reject his offer?

I swear he radiates gender envy from a mile away and it's awesome! >w<

Beelzebub

He looked intimidating at first but mans is just hungry most of his time. I learned pretty quickly never ever to touch his food after the first incident I had with him thanks to Mammon but he seemed really nice when he allowed me to bunk with him while my room was being renovated after he accidentally destroyed it. He seems to really care about his twin brother and he's a sweetheart for that!

He should really stop blaming himself for Lilith's death...

Belphegor

I trusted him at first when he was locked up but I did find him pretty sketchy too but I guess I was too naive to realize that until I helped him get out and he uh... you know. Luckily I lived to see another decade or two but that's where my rocky relationship with him began and when Diavolo said I was distantly related to human Lilith who was the brother's dead sister. Though now we get along well since he doesn't seem to have anything against me anymore and honestly he's baby at this rate.

I find it funny how he naps at the most randomest places and Lucifer has to drag him around for RAD xD

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years

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Wings in the Dark Chapter 4: Limelight

AN: Ah...next chapter. I keep finding myself thinking about/writing Wings in the Dark even though I’ve got so many other stories to keep up with, some of which are only one piece away from being done or oneshots XD

Also I apologize I keep forgetting to put Fem!Vampire!Reader, I keep getting lazy there...tagging error.

Characters: Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Oluo, Petra, Gunther, Eld, Various BG Characters

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings: Language, Blood, Peril, Mentions of Death

Word Count: 6101

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Reader’s POV*

Beneath you, Zephyr shifted from foot to foot, the crowding of Scouts in the street just before the gate looking disorganized, but each squad in specific places meant to make the transition once outside the walls much easier. You knew where you were in the formation, right with the vanguard--not quite at the front though, since you were still a rookie. Instead, you were in a message position.

Just a few horses in front of you, you could see Captain Levi and his squad, their gazes fixed forward like most of the Scouts. Your hand fluttered briefly to your neck as you gazed up at the giant wall that was casting its shade upon most of the gathered Scouts, your heartbeat quickening as the reality of what was happening settled over you.

Decades without open air and sunlight before you managed to find the key that would allow you to walk on the surface in the sun once more. Never before venturing outside the walls. Now here you were, about to ride out beyond its boundaries into open, fresh air and sunlight where there was no edge where a wall or some other boundary of mankind kept you in.

As if sensing your restlessness, Zephyr pawed at the ground, antsy and ready to move forward. The horse standing behind you at the end of a lead had been jumpy since being handed off to you, but its nerves were only getting worse between the aura you and Zephyr were radiating. Your grip tightened on the reins, gaze fixated on that gate that you were begging to just raise already and let you shoot out into the world.

This was what you were here for. You’d finally made it. Now was the time to throw yourself all in for the cause. Messenger or not, you were going to do everything you could to help.

The brick gate up ahead finally finished rumbling, and a pure white horse holding Commander Erwin Smith reared up.

“Forward!”

Your heart leapt into your throat, and it took everything inside you to wait until the people in front of you started to move forward before your heels pressed lightly into Zephyr’s hindquarters, urging the speckled grey mare forward. Your breaths came rapidly as the brick gate approached, head tilting up on instinct as you went through the tunnel, momentarily plunged into darkness with light piercing through the end before Zephyr burst through, one set of many thundering hooves as you broke past the wall.

Green grass rolled out before you with towering trees dotting along the horizon, stretching as far as you could see, further. The wind whipped at your hair, sun beating down on you harmlessly as you soaked in the unbridled rays, lips parted as you took a deep breath of truly free air.

This was a feeling you would never forget. It was as if the wings upon your cape would emerge and spread wide, carrying you up into the blue sky far above and off to a land where there were no stifling walls real, social, or in your mind, no secrets and constant hiding of who you were.

Feeling eyes on you at your reaction to crossing beyond the walls for the first time, you closed your eyes briefly, the self-imposed darkness grounding you back to reality as you reminded yourself what the goal was here, what you were supposed to be doing. You had a purpose out here, and the others couldn’t afford your distraction.

Your head lowered from its tilted back position, and your eyes opened with focus burning in your gaze, fixed forward as you leaned slightly over Zephyr’s neck. Within a few minutes of running straight forward, the formation began to take shape, Scouts spreading out to the left and right while most of the cargo stayed in the middle. You were one of the ones who went out to the right, falling into place at a relay point with your skittish extra horse trailing just behind Zephyr. Off to your left, you could see Levi Squad, within eyesight but still quite a distance away and placed closer to command than you.

While everyone here had to depend upon smoke signals and their own limited sight to tell them if a Titan was approaching, you were at a unique advantage when it came to the task of spotting Titans. You could hear them long before you could see them, but your sight was much better than the other’s here, as well. You would be able to tell if there was a Titan approaching long before anyone else, which could drastically help the mortality rates of the Scouts if you could use your abilities.

Of course, the matter was complicated by the fact that you would have to wait until there was visual confirmation of a Titan if you didn’t want to look like you were firing flares into the sky for the hell of it, which you were certain would piss many people off very quickly. So, you were restrained to detecting where the Titans were, and keeping track of them until they got close enough.

If it was a big enough threat, though, you would take the risk. You would still have to wait if you wanted people to believe you, but you weren’t going to wait as long if it was something like a horde of Titans or a clustering of abnormals.

That part you had decided ahead of time. The rest you would play by ear and see what happened, or simply play the role you had been assigned for this expedition.

*Levi’s POV*

While Levi and his squad had their duties that went with their position in the long range formation, Levi had his secondary objective to observe L/N from a distance, keeping an eye on her at least partially at all times while his squad handled much of the spotting and message relaying, Levi only giving curt orders when necessary. They certainly wondered what was causing his distraction, but no one questioned it, especially from the serious look on his face.

He’d been watching L/N from the moment they rushed out of the gate beyond the walls, her reaction reminding him strongly of himself, Isabel, and Furlan when they’d first gone beyond the walls.

Before he could have someone snap her out of it so she was paying attention, she’d brought herself back around, snapping back to full focus on the task at hand impressively fast despite how swept away she’d been moments before.

With the more central position Levi’s squad held, they were better positioned to be sent whichever direction they might be needed if shit hit the fan, and the more protected position than the vanguard and the relay lines allowed Levi to put more of his focus on L/N without causing unnecessary risk. No doubt that was part of the reason Erwin had arranged them the way they were for this expedition.

At first, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. She kept her head on a swivel, fired the signal flares at the appropriate time to pass along the message to shift the direction of the formation. However, Levi eventually began to catch the anomaly he might have overlooked if she’d been a little further away, or he’d been a little more distracted by what was going on in his position.

Her head stopped swiveling, her gaze fixing in certain directions for long stretches of time before she would fire off her flares. At the most, her head might twitch in one direction or another, but nothing more. The big give away, however, was the fact that he occasionally caught sight of her loading a flare into her flare gun long before the signals went off. As if she knew it was coming.

Either she had insane intuition, or she was able to see something they couldn’t.

It was a good thing he'd noticed her focus and how she seemed to be picking up on approaching Titans before the vanguard, because it greatly effected how he reacted when she fired a shot before even the vanguard. She went perfectly still, head turned forward right towards an outcropping of trees in the distance. She stayed gazing in that direction for several long moments before she suddenly reached into her pack, loaded her flare gun, and fired a black smoke signal into the air.

Everyone reacted with surprise from the display, Levi included, considering no Titan could be seen, and she was not relaying a signal from the vanguard. Immediately, the others began to grumble and complain at rookie audacity, what she thought she was doing, the usual complaints. Levi, however, was staring hard at her back, noting how she was still staring in the same direction, thinking of how she'd been aware of every flare coming so far…

"Gunther, relay that signal."

The complaints about L/N stopped, the others looking at Levi in surprise. "Sir…" Petra ventured to say in a cautious tone, clearly not wanting to question him but doubtful of the black flare's accuracy. Still, Levi could hear Gunther preparing to fire the shot behind him, even as Petra continued. "That signal is coming from nowhere, the rest of the vanguard haven't even fired anything."

"Because she's spotted something they haven't," Levi said bluntly, as behind him Gunther relayed the signal, which went down the rest of the line to Command. Erwin’s green shot fired into the air shortly after what must have been a confusingly sudden short burst of signals.

Levi kept his gaze on L/N the entire time, except the direction change, looking for the payoff or justification for her sudden signal. At first, he didn't think he would see it.

In the distance, within that outcropping of trees that had held her attention before and was now further away from them thanks to the direction shift she’d prompted, Levi saw something clear the treetops. It was hard to catch at this distance, but the scattering of birds from those trees helped confirm what he was seeing. Within a few moments, two fleshy figures of Titans burst through the treeline, one running sporadically forward and the other leaping around, both headed in the direction of the formation.

There was more distance between the formation and the abnormals, thanks to their shift, which gave them more time to respond, but they were still going to collide with the ranks. He could see L/N coiling atop her horse, ready to leap into action if they broke past the vanguard and reached her position, eyes no doubt fixed on the incoming threats.

“Captain, should we go assist?” Petra asked from behind him.

“If they break through the vanguard ranks, yes,” Levi said, gaze sweeping over the other positions in the formation that held less skilled rookies. He didn’t want to risk abnormal Titans colliding with the newbies, so he’d make sure they were stopped there, if the vanguard couldn’t handle them. Instinctively, Levi tensed as the abnormals reached the front lines...and then burst right past towards L/N’s position.

Abnormal, indeed.

Oluo swore as they saw both abnormals barreling towards L/N, who was already kneeling on the saddle of her horse and waited a few seconds for the abnormals to draw a little closer. Levi and his squad were already heading towards them before L/N leapt off her horse, one of her cables firing into the rushing Titan since it was at least keeping stably on the ground, swinging around and away from the front of the attacking Titans, firing the other higher up to try and get a quick shot in at the Titan’s nape.

The second Titan shot over the first in a leap towards L/N, forcing L/N to change direction and release her cable from the first Titan. With a nimbleness that surprised Levi, she pushed off of the arm of the second Titan as it went by to add momentum in the direction she wanted to go, cables releasing again so she could swing between the legs of the first Titan and still avoid it’s reaching arms.

With her cables detached again, she rolled to a stop and got back onto her feet, taking a second to register her position before one of her cables sank into that first Titan's shoulder and she shot towards it again.

At that point Levi and the others were close enough to do something and had a good grasp on the situation. At Levi's orders, Eld, Oluo, and Gunther broke off to deal with the jumping one while Levi and Petra rushed to intercept the one L/N was handling. Levi had a pretty good idea of what she was trying to do, but expecting it to go terribly wrong, he was trying to reach her before she lost a limb. Or her head.

The Titan snapped at her as she came within biting distance, but she let loose a burst of gas at the last second to sail over its shoulder, twisting in midair as the men handling the other Titan let out an alarmed shout.

Both cables sank into the shoulder blades of the first Titan and brought her in close with her feet landed just below its nape, and she sliced neatly through, killing it in one stroke. As she turned with the strike, the second Titan came into her view, ignoring Eld, Gunther, and Oluo entirely as it launched for her, still anchored onto the falling Titan.

The cables disengaged so she could fall back and drop out of range of its maw, feet barely missing the teeth as she dropped vertically and headfirst towards the ground.

Eld went in for a quick kill while it was fixated on L/N.

"No!"

"Wait!"

"Eld!"

At angles they could see where the Titan's attention was trained, L/N, Levi, and Perra, respectively, all shouted out for him not to go for the obvious kill. Its eyes had shifted in the direction the cable came from, towards Eld, and it swung out an arm that caught the wire. Eld was sent careening to the ground, the jumping Titan punching toward him with jaw agape again as the now-injured man got up to right himself, cables still sliding back into place and unable to deploy yet.

Two blurs in opposite directions cut through the air at the front and back of the Titan. Levi was at the back, slicing cleanly through the nape to kill it before it could kill Eld. At the front and coming from the opposite direction, was L/N, slicing through arms and bottom jaw in a wide arc to render it unable to eat Eld.

As they passed each other in the air, they momentarily locked eyes, and instead of fear or anger which commonly filled the eyes of the recruits, Levi saw...exhilaration.

Considering one of his men almost got killed, she better be taking this fucking seriously.

As they both landed on the ground at opposite ends of the Titan body, Levi turned to see her already sheathing her blades and approaching Eld to make sure he was okay and help him to his feet. Gunther and Oluo were close behind, pulling beside them as Eld was brought to his feet and Levi stalked towards them from behind.

"Are you both alright?" Gunther asked.

"That was a hell of a risky move you pulled there, rookie--your leg got cut open when you decided to jump right through its mouth!" Oluo chastised.

Levi’s gaze dropped to her leg, the large tear diagonally across her leg now clear, with bloodstains along the frayed edges of the fabric. But the skin of her calf was unblemished save for a slightly angry red mark running parallel to the rip.

"Hm?" She asked in confusion, turning back to glance down at the offended leg before she twisted so the others could see. "It was risky, and close, but it didn't draw blood. Just a graze," she remarked, eyes lifting to see Levi approaching.

He was caught between angry and indifferent, with a bit of reluctantly impressed. He couldn't exactly chastise her for endangering the others with that out in the open now, could he? She'd been handling them alone off circumstance before they intervened, and when one of his men was in danger of dying, she'd apparently risked a leg to intervene.

It was still reckless, even if in the moment she'd deemed it necessary. She was a rookie out here, she didn't know the full extent of her capabilities against the Titans yet.

Levi’s gaze slid momentarily to the two rapidly dissipating Titan bodies.

Or perhaps she did…

"Petra, help Eld. Everyone, get a move on, before we're left behind," he said instead, turning back to his horse as L/N let out a sharp whistle to call her horse. The dappled grey appeared with the spare horse in tow and still tied to the saddlehorn via the lead so it wouldn't run off.

Once he was certain everyone was mobile and Eld was being taken care of, Levi led the way for his group to rejoin the formation, L/N racing off to retake her position.

Levi’s gaze wandered back towards the pillars of steam that billowed into the air from the dead Titans.

Why had they both been so set on /her/ that they blew past everyone else?

*Reader’s POV*

"All right, we need people for the night watch, so if--"

"I'll do it," you said before he could even finish, standing up from your spot around the fire as you spoke.

All he had to say was night watch. It was another one of the things you felt that you were the most suited for, considering you were a creature of the night. You would do far better in darkness than anyone else around you.

After volunteering to be one of the people on night watch, you were sent up into the nearby trees to give you a better vantage point, able to gracefully find your way up onto a tree branch without issue. Once where you were supposed to be, you took a seat, resting your head against the trunk as your gaze wandered across your surroundings, allowing your hearing to focus so it was listening for things in the distance or abnormal sounds within the vicinity of the camp. As such, the cacophony of people speaking to one another before heading to bed faded away into a faint buzz in the back of your mind, allowing you to focus on your watch.

This also gave you a moment to reflect on your first day out in the field, and the unexpected consequence of your presence that you had discovered. So intent on contributing to the Scouts and using your abilities to assist them, you'd forgotten some basic predatory instincts.

Out here, the Titans were at the top of the food chain. Within the walls, it was vampires. The Titans were mainly active in the day but quiet at night, and vampires normally thrived in the dark and could not go out in the sun--you were an exception, thanks to something you had taken from a vampire far older and more experienced than you. There was a clear division between the two preventing them from coming into contact with each other, mostly the night and day difference and the literal wall dividing their environments. But you had just entered their habitat, and you were well aware that a vampire could still be killed by a Titan if they got careless, or if the Titan got one lucky bite in. As such, you didn't consider vampires at the top of the food chain when placed in the same space as Titans, but adjacent to them.

The Titans had focused on you, likely because you were an invasive, competitive predator in their lands. You were a threat to them and their food supply, and they could not safely feed if there was a vampire in the area.

As such, if the opportunity presented itself, they were going to target you first.

Lovely.

This was new, dangerous information, and you were still deciding how to react to it. Maybe not every Titan would completely ignore a meal in front of them if there was a vampire nearby, but today two abnormals had barged right through the vanguard to get to you. It wasn't something you could ignore.

For a while, your watch went undisturbed, allowing you to quietly stew in your thoughts high up in the trees, before a sound broke through your filtered hearing, and your attention snapped into full focus.

Down below, hidden by the tall grass, darkness, and trees, you could make out the spread out shapes of a wolf pack stalking closer to camp, towards where some of the horses were hitched for the night.

Bold wolves. Or perhaps they were desperate, or had yet to learn to be afraid of mankind. Either way, you couldn't let the wolves get to the horses, the lifeline out here for the Scouts.

Quietly, since the way you wanted to handle this couldn't be seen by the other Scouts, you dropped down from the trees, crouching low to the ground and blending into darkness as you moved to intercept the wolves while they were still shrouded in darkness and the environment. When you put yourself firmly in their path, the tension in the air shifted.

For the wolves, while they were in a pack, you were a more dangerous predator, one that they would normally avoid. As such, the pack's attention shifted, and you let out a low snarl, red eyes flashing in the night and fangs barred as the wolves cautiously stalked closer to you. They loosely encircled you, and you quickly tried to assess each one, looking for the alpha, the one who acted first that the rest followed. The wolves got dangerously close before you managed to pick it out, and you spun around to face the alpha head on, making yourself look big and keeping that snarl.

It hesitated, stared at you for a few moments, and then the grey wolf leapt forward to attack. Anticipating the motion, you plucked it out of the air, arms wrapping around its furry upper body and slamming it into the ground, causing it to yelp and yip as you held it down, pinned, its throat exposed.

You held it there for several moments, making sure the rest of the pack could see the alpha had been bested before you let the wolf up, the large creature immediately taking the opportunity to run and letting out a high-pitched howl for the rest of the pack to follow as it raced away.

Composing yourself once again, you turned back to the camp, heading in the direction of the horses to make sure they were alright, several Scouts intercepting you just before you reached camp.

"We heard wolves."

"What were you doing out there?"

"I chased them off. They were thinking about going after the horses," you assured them calmly. "All it took was a well aimed rock and the sounds of quite a few humans from behind to chase them off," you said, explaining the yips and their sudden absence with ease.

"Right. Back to your posts, or back to bed, whichever it is for you. Go on," one of the senior officers commanded to get everyone to disperse again. You didn't say anything more, feeling no need to as you instead used the ODM gear to return to your perch in the trees.

*Levi's POV*

While Levi was checking his gear to make sure it was still in peak shape for the rest of the expedition, his squad had their fireside discussion about the day's events, the topics free ranging since Levi seemed to not be paying any attention to them and was a fair distance away.

Mainly, they were talking about the display with the two abnormals.

"Did you see how they charged right through the line towards that rookie?"

"They were abnormals. You have to stop questioning abnormals so much or you'll drive yourself mad."

"I'm more interested in that rookie. Did you see how she handled those Titans?"

"No shitting herself or anything--perfectly calm, like she wasn't even bothered."

"It was almost like she was dancing around it for a few moments there--you could even call it graceful."

"And did you see how in sync she was with Captain Levi when they took it down? Even if it was brief?"

"It was still a risky move--she went right through its mouth!"

"That either takes a hefty set of balls, annoying levels of confidence, or sheer insanity."

"I still swear I saw her leg get cut open on those teeth."

"Clearly not. She showed us her leg, it came close and she was damn lucky or pulled it off that well. It was just the rip, the red mark, and some Titan blood."

"Still...she has to be that rookie all those rumors are about, right?"

"The ones about Captain Levi possibly letting a rookie join the squad? Those are bullshit and you know it."

"I'm not so sure anymore, after seeing her in action. It's not impossible. They might wait until she's a little less green, but…"

"Captain Levi did seem a little distracted today. And our position was right where he could see her at all times."

"So it is possible...it would be weird...and I still think they should wait until she's not so green...but I wouldn't complain."

"It'd be nice to have another girl on the squad…"

Levi stood up at that point, the group's conversation halting as Levi moved, then resuming when they realized he was walking away from the fire, not towards it.

Don't get attached, you idiots. If she's as dangerous as I think she is, she won't be around for long.

Moving further away from where his squad was chatting amongst themselves, Levi headed towards the trees where Erwin was taking at least one night shift, using his ODM gear to bring himself up to the tree branch beside the towering blond.

"I heard those abnormals caused a bit of a stir," Erwin said as Levi settled onto the branch beside him, hardly able to see one another with only faint firelight a ways behind them and moonlight mostly blocked from the trees around them.

"They barreled straight out of a treeline and through the vanguard. Didn't give them a second thought and went right for L/N."

Erwin looked at Levi with the way he phrased that last line, like there was more to it. "They were abnormals."

"Yeah...but even abnormals don't usually fixate on just one person. Not to mention two abnormals at once."

Erwin turned slightly towards Levi. "They didn't pay attention to anyone other than L/N?"

Levi shook his head. "Not until Eld went in for a killshot on the last one. They seemed...drawn to her."

"Interesting…" Erwin murmured, both of their attention drawn by the sound of wolves yipping and then howling, the sound getting further away. There was a slight commotion at the edge of the camp, with L/N appearing from the darkness in the direction the howling had been and saying a few words before everyone settled back down. She must have chased them off, then.

"There's more," Levi added, eyes following her figure as she disappeared up into the trees with ODM, apparently one of the few taking a night shift. "This entire time, she's been picking up on Titans before anyone else sees them, even the vanguard. She knew those abnormals were coming long before we had visual confirmation."

"That would explain the odd, lone black flare before the others started being fired," Erwin murmured, his gaze fixated in the same direction as Levi. "Keep watching her. We won't be out here too much longer, since we'll reach our destination tomorrow. You can give me the rest of your observations in an official report when we get back."

"Right…" Levi muttered, turning away and heading back to the ground to admonish his squad about still being up and get them to get some rest before they talked the whole night away with their conspiracy theories.

*Reader’s POV*

When you returned from the expedition, you were surprisingly exhausted. The Scouts had returned a few hours ago, and as soon as you were free of your duties, you headed up to the barracks so you could crawl into your bed and pass out.

While the first day had gone relatively well besides the obvious for all the horror stories about the Scouts and their expeditions, the second day had not gone so smoothly. Even worse, when the Titans collided with the left vanguard, you couldn't do anything about it but watch Levi Squad break away as they were dispatched to go help. You were, after all, just a messenger for the right side of the formation for this expedition.

Because of the attack on the left, the Scouts had accumulated a body count and ended up with quite a few injured. It wasn't bad enough to cause the mission to fail, thankfully, as the Scouts still managed to reach the destination and set up supplies for future expeditions, but after a couple more incidents on the way back, a few more injured and dead were accumulated, and the Scouts were looking rough upon the return to the walls.

On the bright side, if it could be considered a bright side, you were already sitting on two solo Titan kills at the end of the expedition despite being a messenger, you made it through your first expedition, and you knew more about how you would fare against Titans and your usefulness to the cause.

Right now, that was all food for thought at a later point, as you quickly fell asleep once your head hit the pillow and you were finally given the chance to relax.

Unfortunately, it didn't feel like it lasted for very long. You were woken up by one of your fellow new recruits attempting to get you out of bed, though a quick glance towards the windows told you it was now night--you’d been able to sleep the whole day away. Yet you still felt groggy and tired.

"Hey, L/N. L/N! Get up, already. Captain Levi wants to see you. So get to it--last I saw him he was in the library."

*Levi's POV*

"Extraordinary reflexes, stronger than she looks, quick on her feet, calm under pressure, skilled and resourceful with the ODM gear, capable, patient, able to pick up on approaching Titans long before anyone else…" Erwin's fingers tapped lightly on top of Levi's official report of his observations about L/N, the papers sitting in front of him on his desk. "All this time and all I can see so far are more reasons to make sure she's advantageously placed in the Scouts and used to her full potential."

Levi turned to give Erwin a disbelieving look before it fell into a scowl that was becoming quite common at these meetings between the two to discuss Y/N L/N.

"You can't tell me you're not curious about the how, that nothing about her raises questions?" Levi scoffed. Erwin leaned forwards, fingers laced together in front of his face.

"Oh, it does. It seems trying to find out more about L/N only raises more questions instead of providing answers, and I'm determined to start finding answers. But I'm not talking about wanting to know how. This started because you said you had a bad feeling about her, that her motives might be malicious. So far, all you've given me is more material to believe her intentions are at least aligned with our own if not good, and more reasons to make sure she stays part of the Scouts, not anything to prove she's of ill intent."

Levi looked away, teeth grit. He'd almost fallen into the same trap. Until…

"The night before the expedition, we ran into each other in the mess hall. She'd just come back from the Underground, which I know because she still had that smell on her...as well as the smell of blood." Levi turned to look at Erwin, gaze sharp. "I doubt she was down there healing sick kids considering, as far as we know, the extent of her medical knowledge is the first aid she learned as part of her training."

Erwin frowned, his eyes probing as he studied Levi’s expression. "That would have been nice to know, sooner."

"It hadn't come up, yet. And it's not exactly something I can put in an official report."

"It's still not enough to go on, Levi."

"You don't think I know that? It's driving me mad catching these little pieces that suggest something's off about her, and then failing to get anything else. It doesn't help that she knows I'm watching her."

Erwin sighed, leaning back in his seat with a thoughtful look, gazing down at the report on the desk.

"Go ahead and recruit her for your squad."

Surely he heard him wrong.

"I'm sorry?" Levi asked in surprise.

"Not as a fill member, not yet, anyway. She's still too green to justify moving her to the special ops team even with how well she did on her first expedition. Have her start as an aid for you and your squad, that way she's still in a learning and assisting position until she's more seasoned."

"And your reasoning for this is…? What if she wants this? Not knowing her motivations--"

"Gives us all the more reason to make this move. As part of your squad, even as an aid, she'll be directly under your command. You'll be able to keep a much closer eye on her, find out more about her--I'm sure your squad members will be able to find out things about her naturally on their own time. Keeping her close is the best play right now."

Levi sighed in frustration. Sure, he'd considered picking her for his squad already, but his suspicions had killed that desire, at least for now. Plus, usually he got to choose if and when he added someone to his squad. He wasn't too keen on being ordered to add her, even if Erwin had a good reason for doing it.

However, it wasn't like he was going to tell Erwin no. He'd just have to deal with it.

Shaking his head and biting back the complaints he knew didn't mean a damn, Levi changed the subject. Even though he didn't confirm that he would do as Erwin asked, they both knew he would.

"What about you? Did your contacts manage to find anything?"

A frown returned to Erwin’s face. "Like I said, more questions with very few answers." He took a moment to open one of his desk drawers, pulling out a report and laying it next to Levi’s expedition report. "I couldn't find a trace of her anywhere inside Wall Rose besides the last few years after she suddenly surfaced. Even in the town she has listed as where she was born, the closest I came was a girl who shared a first name with her that died tragically over forty years ago. Maybe it's where she got the name, considering it was a big deal in the town's history, but beyond that, nothing. Before she appeared on the surface a few years back, she didn’t exist."

Erwkn held out the report for Levi to take. "Her absence does, however, lend itself to your Underground theory. Especially if you say she was in the Underground the night before the expedition. I suggest you pursue that lead--you know the Underground better than anyone else here."

Levi hated the thought of going back down there, even if it was to find some answers. However, he finally felt like he had something solid to pursue, and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers. He was cornering her, and he was going to pull back the façade and find out what was really happening with her no matter how hard she tried to keep it concealed.

She couldn't hide whatever it was forever. Especially with Erwin and Levi bearing down on her as hard as they were.

Enough questions. It was time they started getting answers.

Next Chapter--->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

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