#and my background is pretty much exactly what they want. i already have two teaching qualifications and a master’s

[liannelara-dracula]

Can I get the mukami's for this prompt?

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 What their family is like, like the household and number of kids.

Hi love,

Good question, sorry it took so long and that some are short but I did my best. Hope you like it. :)

Mukami Boys Family + Household hcs

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Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

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Ruki:

Family + Background:

Ruki wasn't focused on marrying, he just wants to spend his life with you and you wanted the same.

You two were unsure of what that had in store for you.

So you weren't even thinking about marriage or having kids.

Your main focus was just being together.

The marriage just came along the way because Ruki loves you and thought the time was right. Although he honestly feels like he's already married to you.

Number of kids:

Two! A boy and a girl.

You had your kids before you were married.

This is mostly because he can never keep his hands off you and you have a hard time saying no, you eventually had a baby.

You started off as a family of three and lived in the Mukami mansion because you too were just starting out.

The both of you were trying to figure things out so Ruki figured it was best to just stay at the mansion at first.

Plus, there was plenty of room.

And his brothers don't really mind, they are actually excited.

Especially Kou, he can't wait to babysit and help with baby showers or whatever.

Of course your pregnancy was an adventure for you both because you were clueless about caring a supernatural baby and so was he.

And being parents wasn't something you to were planning or expecting.

You both wanted to stick to the lover phase for a while but things happened so fast and you to did like the idea of baby.

It's also cause Ruki is old-fashioned, I highly doubt he'd let you get rid of it. Whatever the case you don't want to.

In terms of giving birth Ruki would just take you to the hospital

Your first child was definitely a boy and looked exactly like Ruki.

When you had this little one it took some time of getting used to and you eventually worked out who would do what.

Ruki is pretty involved as a parent as are you and he does a fair amount for you and the your first kid.

He will get up for you at night if you are too tired.

Made sure you had a nursery for your firstborn.

And he was pretty attentive to what you needed.

He was honestly great about everything.

And the best part had to be when he'd interact with his mini-self.

As you too were getting comfortable with the new baby, within a year or two there was baby two.

Which was a girl!

And Ruki really grew to have a soft spot here. I mean this was a mini you, even though she had his eyes.

His daughter is someone he cannot say no to.

He finds her so cute, he just can't tell her no.

Ruki tends to worry about her a lot so he's a bit over protective.

But he also worries about his son equally.

He loves both of his kids and after being with you long enough and seeing the family he had created he thought it was now a good time to propose to you. (Let me be clear you where a young adult when he met you so that's why you weren't marrying and the relationship was one of many years).

It was cute though because he asked his kids first if he should marry you.

"What do you guys think? Should daddy marry mommy?" He'd grin seeing his kids get excited.

"YEAH!" They'd cheer.

Household:

He cooks, you don't, because he doesn't think you're good enough.

The kids even think that Dad is a better cook.

There isn't too much difference in your role as a parent, you too typically share an equal amount of the work.

He might be the one to teach them academically.

I think he is also a bit better at being strict than you.

Its something about his tone that gets his kids to listen if they're not listening to you.

Kou:

Family + Background

You two got married and you were expecting and he thought it would be nice to have two surprises in one.

He wouldn't stay with his brothers.

After all he is an idol so he would just move out into another house.

This way you two have the place to yourself and you two even have a little bit more privacy.

Of course, it is hard to do with his idol life but you both manage.

if you want me to be really honest I don't see that he'd ever have kids.

Household

You are the one who stays at home considering that he works.

So you usually take care of things.

And the kids

But he appreciates it and when he can stay home he makes sure to spend time with everyone.

He plays with his kids a lot.

Especially when you want to get things done around the house.

I swear he is too lazy to clean and leaves that to you.

But you then leave him to watch the kids for when you go out.

He is usually the one who incorporates fun time for his kids.

He is known to be the more “fun” parent.

Mostly cause he says yes to like everything they ask.

Number of Kids

Two twin boys

He got more than he could ask for.

Sometimes wonders what it would be like if he had girls.

He is also training them to be idols.

It's mostly for fun, so they are his studio a lot.

He sometimes gets inspo from them.

And he dresses them on to.

They surprisingly don’t look like him, they resemble you but they have his social personality.

Yuma:

Family

You’re known as the big family.

He married you before starting a family though.

And even though having kids was on his list.

I don’t think he was planning on having them right away but it sorta ended up being that way.

When you two first got married you stayed at the mansion because you were still working things out.

And his brothers didn’t mind it.

They actually like having you two around.

Seeing Yuma smile is also rare for them too so they are glad you're around.

Although privacy can sometimes be an issue for Yuma.

Especially when arguing, although his brothers don't mind it too much.

In fact, Ruki finds it amusing hearing you two argue.

It's mostly because you and Yuma argue over silly things so it can be funny.

But not to you two.

Household

You and Yuma both stay at home for the most part.

He spends most of his time in the garden.

And his brothers play as babysitters.

There is also a lot of noise and movement thanks to the kids.

And he is also involved in that.

Number of Kids

A lot, honestly it’s over ten.

This man makes you have too many babies.

If you thought you didn’t have it in you, you thought wrong.

So it’s probably 14 kids and probably one by one

So you were pregnant every year practically.

All of them were boys except the last one.

He had one little girl who looked exactly like him.

And most of the boys are mixes of you two.

Although your first looks like him too.

The kids climb all over him.

He yells at the boys if they run around in the garden.

Like he’s strict about that.

Although he carries his little girl when he’s in the garden.

He prefers it’s just her since she stays put in his arms and doesn’t complain. She just watches him but if a bug lands on her she’d probably start to cry.

It’s cause she’s still a baby

Although with his boys he’s good at playing with them and chasing them on the field.

He gets too rambunctious with them you end up scolding him.

He's pretty easy going but sometimes the kids scream too much and don't listen so he sometimes gets serious and then they stop.

Azusa:

Family

The quiet but sweet family.

You two were together for a while and when he proposed to you, you were also pregnant.

So it was two surprises wrapped up in one.

he was really excited.

And he was more than ready to start a family.

He probably lives with his bros but eventually wanted to move out and so he got a place for the both of you.

Household

He does everything for you. Or whatever you need and vice versa.

He stays at home with the kids if you want too.

Azusa is happy to be at home with you and whatever you to do, you do together.

Whether it's cleaning, cooking, baking, watching tv, etc.

Although with one kid he finds the place empty and would like some more.

Number of Kids

Three, two boys and a girl.

They are all quiet and soft-spoken like him.

But they are all very sweet.

Except for when the screaming starts

Azusa usually gets them to settle down.

He reads them bedtime stories and he tucks them in.

He also plays with them a lot.

but overall you are a happy bunch.

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˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

[dapper-shipping-forever]

Wrote a bit of when all the top bounty hunters are together, though only one of the others appear. Featuring protective, and pretty oblivious, Vash lmao

Here's the post about my T.rigun bounty hunter characters. Just the basics for more background of this story (beep)

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He approached her with his long, purposeful strides. His lips pulled back in an arrogant, wicked grin, slow and cruel. His pale green eyes bore deep into her own gaze.

Maleficence stood inches from Gill, towering above her. Her friends all tensed behind her. She couldnt see them then, but she got the feeling they were all just waiting to step forward and teach this dude what people who mess with this team deserve. But Gill held open her hand low at her side, a silent request to not interfere. This man was a thorn in her side and her annoyance to handle too.

"Well, ain't this exciting." He drawled in that dark, penetrating voice. "The two of us are gonna be part of a team together again. Can hardly believe it's finally happening why it's cause to celebrate."

Gill grimaced, a hand on her hip. "The only celebrating I'm gonna do about this is when I no longer have to be around you."

He faked some hurt. "Come on now, belle, no need to be coy to me. How long's it been? Since our previous partnership. You hadn't been troubled to work together then."

She flexed her fingers, gripping her hip tightly. "Yes, because I hadn't known the full extent of your cruelty then."

He chuckles. "Mmm, I promise you, you haven't seen the full extent of it." The fact he seems proud of that just makes her tense further. "But I'm grateful. You deciding not to take that money gave me a great lil payday from that bounty. I take it as a token of your appreciation for the partnership."

"It wasn't a token of shit." Her body trembles in rage. She hated talking to this guy. She wanted to keep herself rationale but the reminder of the violence he caused brings it fresh into her mind and she finds the words spilling out from her throat. "We had them already, we had them captured without any harm done to them. There wasn't any reason to murder them the way you did. None at all." She growled low. "I wasn't taking that cash."

"I was collecting a bounty. Nothing specified they couldn't come back full a holes, and sure 'nough they hadn't given a second thought when paying the dough then." He crosses his arms; that grin hasn't moved.

She levels him with a glare. "You're a piece of work, Maelstrom. Ain't nothing gonna make me want to be in a partnership with you."

"Yet, currently we are." He reminds her, smug as all get out too.

"Only temporarily, though." She adds. "We're getting far away as soon as we're done here."

He mocks her with another chuckle. "Man, and with how much I like you. You're too entertaining to just let walk away."

She'd rather not think of that bastard finding her for his amusement. "Feelings not mutual; I'd rather not be associated with utter scum."

There's a new shine to his eyes. Something like a predator eyeing some new prey. He leans a little further towards her. "Ya know, you always do act this way, like you're in some way superior to me, but I've got something that you just can't get." His grin reveals his glinting canines in the low lighting. "I know exactly who I am. Yeah, I am a murderous, cruel, violent piece of work, real scum sure." He draws his gun, juggling it's weight. "I know the reason I use this gun, why I shoot it; everything that's lead me here is something I controlled. But you can't say that. You got no clue who you are, and you're just running around with those little guns of yours because you got nothing better to do with this fragment of a self. If you've got nothing behind ya, how are you supposed to decide for yourself what's right and wrong or what you want to do with your frail self? My actions are my own and I have no qualms with them, because I know who I am." He uses his gun to tilt her chin upwards, forcing their faces inches apart as sneers and stands without flinching at his mockery. "And what about you? Hm, little girl? Who are you; who's love hunter?"

She has no response, because a part of her can't fight his piercing words; the cool metal of his blood soaked gun burns cold on her chin and she only thinks about how there's shadows where her memories should be. She can't say anything to fight him. She actually hasn't got any idea who she is. She's clawed together this identity since waking without any background, but she has no clue if this is who she honestly actually is. She could've been ruthless too. She could've hurt somebody. She could've hurt many people. She could've been anyone. Right now she's just no one. She hasn't got any idea right now, not a single idea.

Before she can try and respond, the cold feeling on her is gone and her view is entirely blocked by another dark coat covered in dust. She realizes who it is. Vash, heavily disguised in his loose dark coat, low hat, and scarf concealing his face, pushed his way between them without saying anything.

Maleficence turns his predatory stare on the stranger. His eyes narrow, just a little as he analyzes him in full. "Have something to say about our conversation conversation, boy?" He asks him.

Only Vash's blue eyes, hard and striking, are visible. "I just think," He says, low. "You shouldn't talk to a lady like you're doing." His hands haven't moved towards it yet, but at his side his hand hangs by his gun.

Saying nothing, just staring, Maleficence regards the disguised Vash. The team holds their breath, wondering if he'd recognize him, wondering if he'd decide to try and shoot him anyway, and his silence ends with a chuckle. "My apologies." He tips a pretend hat to them. His gaze peeks around Vash to see Gill as well. "Have a swell day, y'all."

They watch quietly until Maleficence leaves the room. He leaves without another word to the team.

---

Vash let's loose a breath, disturbing some particles swirling in a sun beam. He's finally free to take off that mask and breathe easy now that they've split from the other bounty hunters for now; it was feeling stuffy.

He looks out the open window of this empty room; dust covered as it may be its also nice to have privacy for a while. Sat on a cracked bit of stone is the first chance to relax he's had. The only person in the room other than himself currently is Gill, standing across the room to clean her guns free of sand. She brushes a decently clean white rag on their outside. Vash could feel a different air about her since their chat with Maleficence before.

He's been debating saying something to hear. The words seem to evade him now, though; he could tell what he said had burrowed into her thoughts and stuck, that whole conversation leaving its mark. He wanted to make it all better, it was like a burning desire pressing at him, something bubbling inside of his throat; if he could erase the hurt he saw from what he'd said, Vash would.

He ran a hand across from his mouth along his chin, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. His hat had been removed already and hung from his prosthetic fingers by the brim.

"Thought he'd keep bugging us; cant stand that guy, idiot." She grumbles, breaking the silence after a few minutes of it.

He can't quite look at her; his fingers slowly rub the felt between them. Though, they can't properly feel its texture either. "I've never met him before; can see where your complaints are from now, though."

Gill wipes the cloth along her gun. She pauses with a quiet, heavy sigh. "Why'd you step between that?" She asks him.

He knew she had been thinking about that the whole time. To avoid being discovered, he'd tried his best to stay in the background around the host of bounty hunters, but he couldn't stop himself from standing out in front of Maleficence. That's alright. "If I stayed back he would've just kept going like that." He looks out the window while he speaks.

He imagines the way she fidgets with her gun, hearing those chains clink. He's noticed that he's developed a habit, a sort of knack, for guessing what she's doing whether or not he can currently actually see her. He supposes he just knows her little habits and facets of how she behaves by now. It comes with how much time he's spent around her, and it's natural to pay close attention to a treasured friend. He hears the worry in her voice. "That was risky. He mightve clocked you; if he had he would've told the others and had you pinned in that room." The fact that Maleficence's violence is well established is unsaid but known.

Vash is quiet as he thinks. She's right, but he can't find any part of himself that believes he should've done differently. "I couldn't let him talk to you like that." Actually it was that he refused to let anyone talk to her like that.

"But you could've been hurt from that." She tries to make him see just how dangerous that was to do.

"The danger in it isn't what matters." He lowers his head, not quite bashful but speaking in a soft voice. "I would do anything for you." Without hesitation either.

He can see her as she pauses in place, body tensing. His sincere words effect her immediately and she blushes, face cast towards the floor. She takes a bit to say something to him again. "That was dangerous." She mumbles quietly, almost somewhat sad. "But, saying that," she continues. "Thank you, Vash." Now she's looking at him with a, small and genuine, smile.

He smiles for her. She definitely isn't just gonna forget what he did, but she's not angry. "Like I said, anytime." He chuckles to try and lighten the mood. "No one messes with my favorite bounty hunter without a word from me."

She fake pouts. "Your favorite bounty hunter; is that it?"

He raises his hands in his defense at that. "Hey hey, you know you're more ! You're my wonderful friend Gillian and I wouldnt ask for a better companion than you, if that were possible, which its definitely not ! You're more important to me than you know !" Incredibly important, actually. "Besides, just think of just how many bounty hunters I've met; that's a compliment in itself, out of all of those being my favorite."

She scoffs and chuckles. "Yeah, because I'm basically the single bounty hunter not after your ass."

He laughs and shrugs. "Well maybe that's part of it." He jokes lightly.

She shakes her head, thoroughly amused. "You're something else for sure y'know, darling."

Vash scratches the back of his neck, glad she's back to joking with him. Something in her words sticks, though. Perhaps it's an odd thing to get this fixated on, but it's something he'd thought of before but never sit in the front of his thoughts and never asked about; but, now he asks. "Hey, Gill, can I ask you something real quick?"

She turns her head towards him. "Yeah, of course." She prompts him.

He almost backs off, but after a pause presses forward. "Why do you call me darling?"

She freezes where she stands. "Um, hm?" She gets out.

"Well, I know you've called me it for a long time," He continues. "But I just haven't asked why before. I'm just curious." He's not sure why he's shy, asking this question that's harmless.

She seems to think. "It's just a nickname." She looks away.

Vash notices her evading her question, he leans closer, more insistent now. "But, you haven't called anyone else darling; I've only heard you use it on me. And you haven't given the others nicknames. Why only mine?"

Her shoulders hunch. Silently, she sets her gun on the table with its twin. Silently, she faces him. She walks a little closer and crosses the room, until she's behind him. He's confused, until he feels her arms wrap around him as she kneels on his impromptu seat. He tilts his head and looks back, her arms settled atop his broad shoulders. She gives him a quiet smile. "You're just special to me is all, darling." Silently, she flexes her fingers in the only unseen indicator that there's more weight to that confession than she conveys out loud currently.

He stares at her, swallowing what feels like something lodged inside her throat. "Then, should I have a nickname for you?"

She laughs. "Technically, you have one."

"Yeah, but that's not anything different than what everyone calls you. And love hunter won't count too." He protests.

"You haven't had any different nicknames for me the whole time we've been traveling like this." She reminds him.

"I know." He frowns; he's never had anyone who's he's allowed to be close to him before her, he's never tried creating a nickname for someone until thinking about it now. Maybe he could use her's? He blushes just considering calling her it; the casual way she says it always makes him flutter inside a bit too.

She hums sympathetically. "Tell ya what, darling," it's like there's extra emphasis on that nickname there. "You can think about it, and if you decide on any you like, I'd be happy for you to use them for me whenever you wanna."

He thinks about that a bit. "Alright, sure. That sounds good."

She gives him a squeeze, and before he can question his actions he realizes he's leaning back into her. He wonders just why he felt as protective of her as he does, why it felt different than when he just wants to help people whenever there's a chance. He thinks about nicknames andaffections. He just cares about her, a lot actually.

[ereiniel]

First of all, your titles all sound gorgeous! “Your Pain, Seared on My Heart” and “The Convergence of Sea and Sky,” perhaps?

OH BOY.  I’m so sorry it took so long for me to answer this, because I had to go back into my notes and sort through everything to figure out what exactly I was thinking all those months ago with those two fics.  The files are pretty sizable, and I had to make sense of a lot of what I’d written there before I could give you a proper answer.  I started writing these concept treatments when I first started writing for the fandom last year and had all sorts of ideas just thrown in there, some of which were good, some of which I look back on and am like, “what the hell is this?”  I haven’t looked at them in months, ever since I dropped everything to work on my current active WIP.

These fics have gone through a few different iterations, and when I first received your ask, I thought both titles were still part of the same Lawrusso fic series, but it turns out I separated Your Pain, Seared on My Heart from A Prize Beyond and The Convergence of Sea and Sky at some point.  Clearly, this is still very much a work in progress, and between now and the time I write it, it may change yet again, but this is how it stands right now:

The Convergence of Sea and Sky was the first longfic concept I started working on last year, inspired by some of my All-Valley 100 ‘Brick Wall’ entries.  It’s a Lawrusso KK3 AU where Johnny and Daniel are already together, and they work together to bring down Terry and Kreese and Cobra Kai.  Terry is a really nasty piece of work in this one, and Johnny knows Mike from All-State (he came in first, Mike second, in 1983-84), so he knows how dangerous Mike can be.  Daniel training with Terry puts a real strain on his and Johnny’s relationship, not least because Johnny knows what’s going on from the injuries Daniel comes home with (since they’re a lot like the ones he himself used to get from Kreese), but Daniel is trapped by Terry and can’t leave without causing even more trouble for everyone.  Some character details, like Johnny being a sports medicine major, ended up in my current fic, which I may or may not keep for this one as well.  My concept notes are a lot angstier and so much darker than I remembered 😬 but at least I have an idea for a happy ending planned for them. 

--

Your Pain, Seared on My Heart is a KK1 Lawrusso soulmate concept AU, in which Daniel and Lucille move to LA because of Lucille’s new job with the in-house IT department at Dynatox.  It starts in Newark, where we get to see Daniel and Lucille’s life before they move, with Daniel’s grandparents and extended family and friends (and Judy!), as well as seeing Lucille finally get her computer science degree that she put on hold when she met and married David. 

As part of the perks for working for Terry Silver, they’ve received a company house in Encino Hills, a fancy company car, and the use of Terry’s personal facilities (pool, hot tub, sauna, tennis court, private dojo, etc.) whenever they want.  As expected, Terry takes a shine to Daniel right away when they first meet, and makes arrangements for him to join Cobra Kai to ensure he has friends in LA.  Terry is very much involved in Cobra Kai and teaches alongside Kreese, though not as often as he’d like due to his other business commitments.

Daniel is introduced to Johnny and the Cobras as a new member of their karate class; due to his limited karate background, Terry gives him ‘extra private lessons’ outside of class to ‘catch him up’ to everyone else.  Little does Daniel know that Kreese is doing the same sort of ‘extra lessons’ arrangement for Johnny, and when they find out about what’s happening to the other and how they’ve both been trapped, they help each other through it and, through that, develop a deeper and closer relationship.  They immediately feel a deep connection to the other when they first meet, and as their relationship develops, can feel the pain the other is feeling when they’re dealing with Kreese and Terry.  It’s their connection and combined strength that give them the courage to fight back.

Mr. Miyagi is a groundskeeper/maintenance employee at Dynatox, and his duties include maintaining Terry’s house, the company homes, and the dojo space.  It’s how he gets to know Daniel, and how he finds Daniel and Johnny in the dojo on several occasions after they’ve been hurt by their teachers, and he takes care of them and helps them and their friends get away from Cobra Kai.

This is the WIP that most resembles a proper fic concept, and the one I was seriously working on and getting ready to write when Rain That Tastes Like Wine popped into my head and I had to set this one aside.  I had to put these fics on hold because Terry is a creepy, nasty piece of work in both and very different from the Terry I am currently writing, and I didn’t want to confuse the characterizations and write them incorrectly.  This is the fic I think I’m most looking forward to writing after I’m done with my current one, so thank you for bringing it back to the forefront of my consciousness.  I’m just trying to focus on one fic at a time right now!

Thank you so much for the asks, and I love that you love my story titles! 💖💖💖

[fingertipsmp3]

Hi yes for the love of God hello. How do I stop being so anxious about my upcoming (tomorrow morning) job interview that it prevents me from doing anything but worrying

[raytorosaurus]

hey! I play acoustic guitar and I wanna start trying out electric but I also reeeally wanna get nerdy about types of guitars and gear and stuff, I find it very cool but I’m not entirely sure where to start. Do you have any book recommendations or anything like that? Also this is unrelated but I would kill to know exactly what gerard has got going on with their pedalboard cuz woah do they love that thing. Thanks and I love ur blog, hope you have a nice day!

hey so sorry this took me a bit to answer!! honestly my recommendation though would be to not go crazy with pedals to start out with. start with an affordable beginner's guitar, a headphone or mini amp, and maybe one effects pedal (i'd go with a simple overdrive or distortion one to start out with, they're your classic rock sound. or try to find a cheap practice amp with built-in effects and then you can forego pedals just to start out with - i have an older roland micro cube i got second hand for pretty cheap and it's really great and pretty versatile) and just get comfortable with playing electric first. first of all, you won't know what to do with the pedals until you're good at playing and they'll be wasted! but mainly, pedals are just really fucking expensive lol. it's not worth it unless you're a really committed player yk

also once again i'm definitely not an expert in any of this - i'm partly answering in this way because i don't have much gear myself and i think that's a better approach to learning that, like, sinking a whole lot of money into pedals when you don't know exactly what you're looking for or what sound/style you want (for reference i have two boss pedals and one digital multi-effects pedal, and that one i use so rarely, all of them second-hand). also learning + getting used to playing with pedals is like...a whole different skill set on top of just playing that should probably come after you get a decent grip on guitar itself. obviously you already play acoustic so you have a big headstart but playing electric is a pretty different approach, especially when you bring pedals into it. if you find yourself getting bored, sure, throw one in there to spice things up! but they're a pretty big investment sadly lol. if you just want to learn about them because you think they're super interesting, there are soooo many youtube channels out there dedicated specifically to that lmao. it's nerd central out there

and okay now if you're just asking about learning electric in general, my advice would be to find an online course that offers you some kind of structure - there's SO many resources out there for learning that it's actually overwhelming and one of the hardest parts is trying to figure out where to start and where to go next. i started out on fender play and it was pretty good (though it's aimed at people who have zero musical background so you may need to skip through some lessons), but i got a subscription when they were doing like. 70% off or something asdfkaljf, so you could keep an eye out to see if they do a new year's special or something relatively soon! otherwise if you can find a youtuber who does structured lessons in a sequential order i think that's your best bet - being dedicated to seeing through the boring parts of practice and not just jumping around and half-learning a bunch of out-of-context skills in any random order is the only way you can really get anywhere unfortunately ajsdkglaj. but honestly even the boring parts of practice are kind of fun especially if you're able to link whatever technique/scale you're learning to a song you enjoy. when i was teaching myself (like before i bit the bullet and started paying for lessons a few months ago lol) i would jump between the fender lessons and going through tabs of my chem songs to see if there were bits i could play with what i knew (playing along to those songs for the first time is the most exciting feeling in the world fr fr). and seeing the bits that i couldn't quite play but that didn't seem too hard really motivated me to keep going yk? anyway oh my god sorry this got so long AGAIN i'm not even sure if i properly answered your question LMAO.

oh but for the last part i will say that a really cool group of people is currently working on a zine showcasing mcr gear (including gerard's vocal pedalboard) over the years! it's a while off yet bc it requires a lot of research but it's gonna be awesome. gerard hasn't said much about his pedalboard yet but people who know way more than me are on it, hang tight B)

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu

Context: original post, chrono

(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)

----------------------

“You’re attached.”

“You’re just now noticing?”

Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.

“The other members of the council are concerned.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.

Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.

“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”

“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”

“You said you would kill for these children.”

“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”

Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”

“Do I?”

“Skywalker.”

“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”

It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.

“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”

“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”

“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”

“Plo and Depa know.”

“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”

“Yet.”

“Skywalker.”

He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”

Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”

“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”

Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”

“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”

“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”

“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”

Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”

“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”

“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”

“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”

“You don’t?”

“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”

Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”

“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”

Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”

“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”

Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.

He tries to convince himself that it’s true.

“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”

“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”

“Humble.”

“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”

Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”

“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”

Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”

“Skywalker.”

“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”

“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”

“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”

Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.

“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.

“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”

“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”

“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”

“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.

“That’s fair.”

[tea-and-la]

Aang as Zuko’s “Found-Sibling”

so i kind of alluded to it on my previous post but if zuko sees his relationship with any of the gaang as a foil to his sibling relationship with azula, it’s aang. 

in the season 1 finale, zuko compares the two directly:

zuko:  I finally have you, but I can't get you home because of this blizzard. There's always something. Not that you would understand. You're like my sister. Everything always came easy to her. She's a Firebending prodigy, and everyone adores her. My father says she was born lucky. He says I was lucky to be born. I don't need luck, though. I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight and that's made me strong. It's made me who I am.

here zuko makes a lot of assumptions. he is implying that because aang is a prodigy like azula, everything must come easy for him. we as the audience know this isn’t true (he doesn’t know aang’s background at this point), but it does speak to his insecurities in terms of his sister (foreshadowing to his season 2 interactions with azula.) 

contrast that quote with what zuko says to katara in the season 1 finale:

zuko: you rise with the moon, i rise with the sun.

he sees katara as evenly skilled as himself. a match, but with opposite bending elements. and that’s even reflected in the way that katara wins their match at night, but zuko wins their fight when it’s day time.

zuko (especially in season 1) sees azula as superior to him, someone who he’ll never catch up to in skill because she’s a prodigy. in contrast, he’s seen katara when she first started to bend and made mistakes (barely able to form a water whip, and the time she accidentally froze sokka). zuko has seen and acknowledged her growth throughout the show and he sees her as someone who has also had to struggle and work hard to get to her current bending capacity.

and like @sokkastyles​ already said: 

Aang is the younger prodigy who he resents for being better than him in the beginning, the one who is imbued with power and authority by birth that he lacks, the “lucky” one.

continuing on, i wanna talk about crossroads of destiny. the zk scene again emphasizes how similar zuko sees katara to himself (not azula.)

he is calm, open, and vulnerable throughout these scene with katara. he almost allows himself to forget they’re on opposite sides because of how much they have in common. but once aang comes in:

there’s that same anger and resentment he has towards azula. 

i’ve seen some people refer to the crossroads of destiny as zuko some hidden meaning of choosing between “sisters,” but i disagree. it’s framed as a decision between azula and aang, and for zuko, it’s supposed to be an impossible choice. 

so we see him go after aang with an uncontrolled intensity that is so different from the brief peace he was able to achieve with iroh in ba sing se. and it’s easy to imagine that this is because he’s taking his frustration that he can’t express towards azula, out on aang, as a substitute. 

we see lingering bits of zuko’s resentment towards aang, even after he joins the gaang. it’s unintentional, but from the firebending masters, we can see how he initially still holds onto that insecurity a bit.

when he initially realizes he lost his firebending he tries the forms over and over, while aang is just chilling:

aang: that one felt kinda hot

zuko: don’t patronize me!

aang: sorry sifu hotman

zuko: and stop calling me that!

even though aang was being genuine, it’s easy to imagine that zuko is connecting this moment back to times with azula growing up. especially because we know how much his ability to fire bend is tied up into his self worth. 

he’s given the chance to “prove” himself by teaching someone who he considers superior in skill to himself (aang, just off virtue of being the avatar), and when he fails, that rears up the resentment again. 

but then, their dynamic shifts after zuko admits he doesn’t want to rely on hate and anger anymore. zuko has several moments where he encourages aang (who he was previously resentful towards) because he sees that aang needs it. he’s able to realize that aang isn’t a prodigy in the sense that he thinks he’s superior to anyone else. and he’s also able to see that aang has his own insecurities as well, as they get to know each other more on their trip. he has phrases like: 

zuko: you can do it. i know you can. you’re a strong kid.

aang: [Turning to Zuko.] We could turn back now. We've already learned more about fire than we'd hoped. [Aang shows Zuko his flame and gives a weak smile.]

zuko: No, we're seeing this through to the end.

and aang’s face as a result: 

so in a sense, zuko is able to be needed as a big brother. and to offer support because aang is unsure about himself. 

also this scene reeks of sibling energy:

but anyways, i think aang/zuko’s found-sibling relationship foils azula/zuko’s sibling relationship because even though they start off with resentment for similar reasons, his dynamic with aang changes.

i see people say that the reason they think katara is zuko’s “surrogate sibling” is because she provides him with care and kindness, unlike azula. the same could be said about aang.

whereas azula has made it clear that she doesn’t respect zuko’s bending, aang values and respects zuko for his skills (even when he was struggling at the beginning of the firebending masters.) aang is able to reciprocally affirm zuko as well:

aang: i don’t care what everyone else says about you. you’re pretty smart!

i also find the last few lines after they meet with the dragons to be significant:

zuko: That's why my firebending was so weak before. Because for so many years, hunting you [Turns toward Aang as screen zooms out to show Aang.] was my drive ... it was my purpose. [Aang turns toward Zuko as well.] So when I joined you, I lost sight of my inner fire. But now, I have a new drive. [Cut to Zuko's face as screen zooms in.] I have to help you defeat my father and restore balance to the world.

i’d like to think that part of losing/letting go of his anger/resentment in part was because of the new relationship he was able to build with aang. in a sense, he’s able to repair a “pseudo-sibling” relationship with a found-sibling who willingly accepts him. 

i love that they’re address their confidence issues regarding firebending together. 

and how, when they rushed to show the rest of the gaang after they returned:

aang: [Cut to Aang and Zuko demonstrating the Dancing Dragon to the rest of Team Avatar and friends.] With this technique the dragons showed us, Zuko and I will be unstoppable.

zuko has gained a found-sibling relationship that isn’t about comparing their firebending to each other, but working as a team. it’s so so meaningful that aang says “zuko and i.” the idea of zuko having a sibling relationship where he’s able to share his love of firebending and not feel insecure about it ...🥺. him having a “sibling” who wants to hang out with him and do things together and gushes about it with the confidence that aang had when he said they would be unstoppable. 

oh! not to mention that i’ve seen people say that zuko/katara have a sibling relationship because she teases him in EIP. but like .. that’s such flimsy logic. and also? aang and zuko have their mutual teasing moments especially in the firebending masters, and it’s just adorable. 

anyways, my main point from all this is that ik people love to say zuko/katara fit surrogate siblings (which i hate btw), but it’s mostly said because of katara/azula’s similar age. it doesnt matter that aang is 12, though, because honestly, he fits the “found-sibling” dynamic a lot better because of how zuko used to see aang in relation to azula. it just works better thematically. especially, because like i’ve said, and as so many people in fandom point out: zuko and katara are similar (some people... antis.. would say “too” similar). and when has zuko ever seen azula as being similar to himself? exactly. 

[bebepac]

Ascension

Series: Fast Forward:  A One-shot birthday fic for @neotericthemis​​ *yes you can read this without having read the series * The Book: Beyond TRF Pairings: Liam x Riley / Ellie x Nic  (Ellie x M!OC) Warnings/ Ratings:  A few curse words, but overall  total fluff / PG Word Count: 2265

Summary: Ellie needs the help and advice of her father on a very special day.

Original Post: 1/13/22 at 9:12PM EST.  Not your birthday here yet, but already your birthday where you are!!! 

Happy birthday dear friend!!!  I hope that you enjoy your day.  You are one of the people I talk to pretty much daily!  I enjoy our chats and giggles, and you are one of my readers of infinite snippets.  I am happy that you are my friend, and I am able to share my love of “fictional characters” with you, and for our love of the one and only King Liam Rys, and my OG Liam face claim Christopher Pine.  

I’d eat anything he was making.  You asked for Fast Forward so here you go.  We went a little further into the future than I had originally planned! You will see your idea here, as you wanted to see was Liam teaching Ellie something.  I decided to use a life lesson.  I hope you enjoy this.

A/N:  The coronation scene is very similar to the one used in At Long Last my 150 followers giveaway.  I decided to use it here as it is a very special day indeed.   

Ellie paced nervously back and forth.

“Take a deep breath. It's okay. You're fine."

"Mother, I am not fine! This is huge, this is the biggest thing I've ever done. There's not enough air in this room. What if he…."

"I know exactly what you need right now. You need your father."

"Mother, are you upset with me?"

Ellie's eyes brimmed with tears.

"No, not at all Baby Love. I'll go get him for you.  You and your father have always had a very special connection.  I have a feeling he will know exactly what you're feeling right now."

Ellie's stomach grumbled loudly.

"Would you like me to get you a snack while I’m away?"

Ellie giggled, rubbing her stomach and thinking for a moment.

"Doritos and a vanilla coke sounds so good right now."

"I'll get it for you." Riley’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

Riley went to the kitchen for Ellie's snack then stopped on the way back by their bedroom.

"Liam…."

He smiled at her. "You look beautiful, Love."

"Thank you."

"Interesting choice of snacks, I haven't seen that particular combination in quite some time."

It was one of Riley's early pregnancy cravings she had with all their children.

"It's not for me, it's for your daughter, who never eats junk food, and Liam she needs you. She's really nervous about today."

"Is she pacing?"

"Yes, and she’s about to wear a hole in the floor."

Liam chuckled softly. "That's my girl.  Okay, I'm going in."  

Riley handed off Ellie’s snacks to Liam and he walked down the hall towards the royal chamber. His gait slowed the closer he reached to the door.  He wasn't ready for this. This was such a big life change for the both of them, all of them.

Liam knocked gently on the door that used to be his royal chambers.

"Is that you Father?"

"Yes."

"Please come in."

The room had been completely renovated for the new King and Queen of Cordonia, and the newly remodeled quarters was a perfect infusion of the blushing bride and her soon to be husband's tastes in decor.

Ellie was standing at the balcony and turned to face him.

Liam eyes welled with tears.

"You look so  beautiful Baby Love. You look just like your mother the day that we married."

"Thank you Father."

He handed her the snacks Riley had given her and she ate in silence for a few moments.

"So tell me, what's bothering you, Baby Love?"

"This is so many big steps at once, Father. So many things in our lives are about to change! And Nic, what if he decides that he doesn't want this life with me? This is such a big step for him. He can't fade into the background anymore after this."

“Ellie you’ve been Queen for two months, and now, you’re marrying, your soulmate, the man that’s going to be your King, and Nicolai loves you.  He has never viewed you as just your title.  He saw you as Just Ellie. He fell so hopelessly in love with you, so many years ago.  All of  us saw it.  You two were inseparable  as children.  I’ll be honest, a lot of the similar things ran through my mind that are running through yours on the day I married your mother.”

“They did?”

“Yes, when two people join together in marriage, because of your status and nobility, you are giving him something that not many people have, and it’s a huge responsibility on his part to accept such an elevation in status.  But, the two of you have talked about it, at length and detail.  He’s even been to Riley to talk to her about how to cope with the abrupt changes.  It’s time for you to take a leap of faith, and trust that he can handle this, and that Nicolai will catch you.  I have the feeling Eleanor, your rule of this country is going to rival mine and your mother’s.  Marriage is not going to be easy Eleanor, along with ruling a country with your spouse.  But the most important thing I can tell you, that you can learn from your parents, is balance.  Sometimes the whole country should take a back seat to the needs of your spouse and family."

“Thank you Father.”  

“Don’t be afraid to leap, Little Lion.”  

“I’m not anymore, Father.”  

“Does Nicolai know yet?”  

Ellie’s cheeks turned pink and she began to stammer a bit.

“No,  I just found out yesterday. I was too nervous to tell him. I’m going to tell him tonight. We both agreed that we wanted to wait a little bit, Father.”  

“Ellie, the best things in life, aren’t planned.  I understand how you like to have things in your control, you get that from me, but my life changed so much when I met your mother.  The woman that taught me to throw caution to the wind, and it was worth it.  Trust me Baby Love, he will be ecstatic when he finds out that you two are having a baby.”

Ellie hugged her father, he kissed her cheek.  

“I love you Daddy.”  

“I love you too, Baby Love.” 

Just like when Ellie was a young child, she just needed a little reassurance, and her father was always just that for her. Ellie and Nic had decided not to marry in the cathedral where her parents did, but have a small wedding, in the gardens where Liam and Riley had their vow renewal ceremony.  Ellie, though living a very extravagant life, knew the best of both worlds, and appreciated the simple things and Nic had taught her that.  

The media was invited, and the world watched as the pair shared their special vows to each other.

“I’m loving the fact that I’ve become the officiant for all things wedding for this family.”  Leo said as the crowd softly chuckled.  

“Not that I mind, I love my niece.  And I know she hears it a lot, but she is just like her father.  She was the responsible one with an innate sense of duty leaps and bounds over her siblings, and even as a child, I knew the woman she would grow up to be, the world would look up to, and her family would be proud of her.  But that’s not all she is, with the right catalyst, Ellie becomes a firecracker, and as I’ve watched the two of them over the years, and I know Nicolai is that for her. He is the incendiary component her life needs, to set her world a blaze, to give her the drive and ambition to create positive change in our country and the world.  Everyone needs that soulmate that lights that fire in their heart, and their life, and my niece found hers early on, to which she is extremely lucky and blessed.”  

Ellie glanced at Nic smiling through her veil.  He gently squeezed her hand; a smile slowly spread across his lips.

“Since these two are anything but traditional, you  know they want to be all sappy and sentimental and recite their own vows to each other, so Ellie, why don’t you start with the love fest.”  

Ellie chuckled.

“Thank You Uncle Leo.  Nicolai….my sweet Nic…  you’ve always seen me.  Just me.  Never my title or what all of this represents, and I thank you and love you immeasurably for that.  I never knew what being treated normal truly felt like until you came into my life.   Painstakingly normal.  You have been my best friend, almost my whole life. No offense to my siblings.  You have made me feel rich without giving me a euro.  Some of my most prized possessions are the  birthday gifts that you made for me over the years.  I know this is a big step for us.  But I’m ready, and I can’t wait to spend my life creating beautiful memories with you  and the family we’re going to have together a little sooner than later.”  

Nic pulled back her veil to see her face. He raised an eyebrow at her, 

and Ellie nodded, touching her stomach for a split second, he did not hesitate to pull her into his arms, kissing her.

“We’re not to that part yet. Nicolai!  Vows first Man! Then the after party!”

"That’s my boy! You show them how the Greeks party!!"  Nico commented loudly with a hearty laugh.

There were whistles and the crowd roared in laughter.

Nicolai finally pulled himself away from Ellie smiling at her.

“I couldn’t contain myself anymore.  And this isn’t what I planned to say.”  Nic crumpled his paper, sliding it back into his pocket.

“Ellie, I loved you from the first moment I saw you.  You were walking in the gardens with your father and mother, and you smiled.  Not at me, but at your father, and you didn’t know it then, neither did I, but you had already claimed my heart for yours. I never thought that I would be here with you today.  You say that you are happy that I saw you, for you, I am as equally lucky that you saw me, for me.  You are the one who has made me rich without all this, and if you didn’t have this, I would still love the woman you are, because of who you are.  You make me want to be a better man, because I want to see myself, the way you see me, because I see the love in your eyes you have for me when you look at me.  Your Uncle Leo spoke of fire, that I am the incendiary ingredient for you that helps you blaze Ellie.  But, you do that for me every moment we are together.  I am ready for this adventure we're about to embark on as husband and wife, Queen and King,....and….parents."

Ellie pulled Nic to her kissing him.

"You two! We're not to that point yet. You know what FUCK IT!  Eleanor, do you?"

"Hell yes!" She screamed excitedly.

"Nicolai, do you?"

"Hell yes!" His enthusiasm matched Ellie's.

"Well seal it with a kiss then dammit!"

The couple kissed as the small familial crowd around them cheered.

The couple shied away from tradition, but there was one thing Ellie did want to do with all the bells and whistles.

"You don't have to do this for me."

"Yes we do. It shows the world you are, and who we are together.   Are you ready?"

Nic nodded, gently pulling at the collar of his regalia; he was the nervous one this time.

They walked out of the door into the cathedral met by the loud cheers of the audience.  

When her father stepped to the podium he smiled and winked at them both.

"Last chance to run Nic."

"I'm here for you and our family forever."

Ellie smiled, biting her lip. "I love you."

"I love you too, My Queen."

Ellie turned when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Leo gave Ellie her crown.

"I love you kiddo. Feels like yesterday I helped your father with this."

"Love you too Uncle Leo."

Riley gently rubbed Leo's shoulder.

"And it feels like yesterday, I was crowned Queen." Riley's eyes filled with tears as she handed Liam's crown to Nicolai.

"You're going to do great things Nicolai, the two of you together. I know your mother would be so proud of you. Because my heart is leaping with joy for you, and I always thought of you like a son. I am so proud of the man you've become. You have had a wonderful father, and step mother to help guide you."

A lone tear slid down Nic's cheek. "Thank you, Queen Mother."

Leo helped him slip on the royal red sash over the shoulder and affix the Cordonian coat of arms to his regalia, and gave him the ceremonial Cordonian Ruby jeweled apple to hold in his right hand, and the royal scepter used in all coronations in to hold in his right.

Riley slipped the royal mantle over Nicolai's shoulders, fastening it at his neck. The robe he wore was heavy and royal blue and had the symbol of the Rys Family crest on it.

Riley rejoined Liam at the podium.

"Who of you is willing to stand before us and take the Coronation Oath?”

“I, Nicolai Andreas Karahalios am willing.”  

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Cordonia according to their laws and customs?”

“I solemnly promise so to do.”

“Will you, with your power, be a beacon for law, justice and mercy, to be executed when rightfully deserved in your judgments?”

“I will.”

“And will you support Her Majesty, and the people of Cordonia with honor, integrity, and truth displayed in all of your actions, being the unbiased voice of the Cordonian people?”

“I solemnly promise so to do.  These things which I have here promised, I will perform and keep.  So help me God.”

Liam stepped down from the altar and was face to face with Nicolai.

“Please kneel Nicolai.”  

Nicolai knelt before  Liam and  took the crown from Nic’s hands, smiling down at it for a moment.  

“By the power vested in me as past leader of Cordonia, I crown thee, Nicolai Andreas Karahalios King of Cordonia.”

Liam placed the crown on Nicolai’s head.

“Now stand King Nicolai, and face your people.”  

Nicolai turned to see Ellie standing in front of him.  

Ellie knelt to him which was something that didn’t feel right to Nicolai in front of all the people in the cathedral.  He immediately started to kneel to her.  Ellie held out her hand to stop him.  

Liam also assisted, and tightly clasped Nicolai’s shoulders holding him upright.  

Ellie smiled up at Nic.

“My King, I swear my allegiance  to you, and only you, until my dying breath.”  

Nic found his father in the crowd.  Nico was in tears and knelt as everyone in the building knelt with him.  

Nicolai Karahalios, son of a former KingsGuardman, was now the King of Cordonia.

[formula-what]

Brocedes time line for a very patient anon

Lewis quotes in orange, Nico quotes in pink, everyone else is blue.

okay first some background knowledge:

Nico is rich as fuck. only child, born in Germany, brought up in Monaco. son of world champion Keke Rosberg

Lewis was born on a council estate in Stevenage and his dad had to work multiple jobs for him to start karting

Honestly I think the difference in their backgrounds is one of the things that pushed them together, they were both isolated from the rest of the kids, but I’m keeping this purely facts rather than speculation.

2000

They’re both 15 years old and are karting teammates for MBB (Mercedes Benz McLaren) in Formula A

Robert Kubica: “there was always competition. But they didn’t fight. It was friendly competition. There was always laughing afterwards.” // “they would even have races to eat pizza”

They often shared hotel rooms at the races which was a “scene of many wrestling matches between them”

Dino Chiesa (their karting boss) – “many times I was called by reception about some problem in the room. It might be noise, or they might have broken something. They would never sleep so they were always tired the next morning”

“they both liked ice cream so much, particularly vanilla. During the night they wanted to eat ice cream always, so I had to go out everywhere to find some and keep them happy”

Lewis would often persuade Nico to buy him sweets

They would have competitions over LITERALLY EVERYTHING

Lewis: “we always had great competition whether on the racetrack or computer games or playing football”

“probably the first bit of competition we had was when Nico used to ride a unicycle everywhere so I thought, ‘I’ve got to learn how to ride this unicycle. Ive got to be better than him.’ I spent all my time outside the go-kart learning to ride this unicycle”

Apparently it only took Lewis 2 hours to teach himself how to do it

In maybe 2013 ish (when they were still friends) Lewis reflected with– “I have never laughed so much than when we were racing together. Nico was kicking everyone’s butt at that time. We had so great races together and built a great relationship”

“we were just arriving and enjoying go-karts and eating pizzas every weekend, fighting all the time and just having fun, whereas now it’s all business.”

many times they would talk about what they would do when they got to f1, made plans hoping to be teammates and become world champions together.

“Nico would say ‘when I’m in formula one’ and for me it was always ‘if I ever get to formula one’. Because obviously Nico’s dad was a formula 1 driver- he knew he was going to make it.”

F1

Nico joined f1 in 2006 with williams, Lewis 2007 with McLaren. And man I WISH I knew what went down with this two when Lewis nearly one his rookie season (missing out by one point to mr fernando alonso) and then WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP in his SECOND SEASON (again by one point thank you mr alonso)

2008 Australia

Nicos gets his first podium, and ofc Lewis is there (he won it) and they are jumping around in the cool down room. Just, two kids who are literally living the one thing they have spent their whole lives dreaming about together. Lewis won the championship that year and oh wow I can only imagine their celebrations together.

2013

They’re teammates in Mercedes!!!

Nico: “every other day there are moments or things that pop up and I can smirk and thing, ‘that’s exactly the same as it was 15 years ago’”

2013 Malaysian Grand Prix gets an honourable mention. This is the race with red bulls good old multi 21 but merc also had their own team orders, stopping nico from fighting for his first merc podium, but Lewis disagreed with it so it didn’t really spark that much tension between them- more the team.

2014

the start of the turbo-hybrid era so y’all know this was good in terms of performance.

2014 Bahrain Grand Prix

They were both fighting for the win and had a collision which prompted a “mock fight” in parc ferme after the race (which I really hope there’s a video of).

Turns out, Nico won because he had used engine modes banned by Mercedes to get a power advantage in the closing laps. which kinda pissed Lewis off

2014 Spanish Grand Prix

Lewis’ fourth win in a row and took lead in the championship. They were fighting till literally the last second and Lewis crossed the line 0.6 seconds ahead of Nico, who says he could have passed him with one more lap.

Lewis defended using the same banned engine modes that Nico had used in Bahrain. Yeah.

2014 Monaco Grand Prix

This is IT. This is peak petty bitch. This is the one people still cry about.

It’s the end of Q3, both of them are out on a lap, Nico ahead of lewis. Nico’s already on provisional pole but Lewis is pretty close.

And then,, Nico just,, parks his car?? He says he made a mistake but the guy doesn’t even crash he straight up just,, rolls to a stop into a slip road. So the yellow flags come out forcing Lewis to abort a lap that was in the makings of pole.

The stewards say it was a-okay but Lewis was convinced it was intentional (and let’s be honest, yeah it probably was) and he even claimed that merc’s data proved it. (low key surprised he didn’t just tweet out the telemetry but I guess he got a stern telling off from mclaren last time)

But *this* is when Lewis tells the world that they aren’t friends anymore. An iconic interview.

Nico then wins the race too, ending Lewis’s four win streak and putting Nico in the lead of the championship.

2014 Hungarian Grand Prix

Lewis has an engine failure in quali meaning he starts from the pit lane, but he does good to make his way up the pack but THEN there’s a safety car which puts him ahead of Nico but on a different strategy.

Nico asks if Lewis can let him past as he needs to pit again before the end of the race, which will give him the place back anyways. Lewis straight up refuses, he’s on a role here. He started from last, and Nico started from pole, why should he slow down to let his title rival through.

Mercedes strongly suggest that his blocking fucked up Nicos race but Niki Lauda is on Lewis’ side so he doesn’t get punished (We stan a supportive father figure) even though he did blatantly refuse to be a team player.

And guys, this is the last race before the summer break so you know Nico was left seething for four weeks.

2014 Belgian Grand Prix

Second lap, Nico attempts a clumsy move and there’s contact, giving Hamilton a puncture and knocking him out of the race.

There’s a lot of controversy but basically it turns out he crashed with him intentionally, not backing out of the corner to “prove a point”. Nico ended up finishing second but was punished by the team, forced to apologise, and even booed on the podium.

2014 Abu Dhabi

For some reason it ran for double points?? The first time in History??? But idk???

Lewis had a perfect start and went on to win it and take the title, Nico had a problem and was told to retire the car but he kept going anyway and finished 14th. Nico went into the cool down room to congratulate Lewis on the championship win, which. cute.

Lewis claimed his second championship. Which not only was huge because of the inter team rivalry, but also because of the large gap between his first win. This guy had lost out on winning the championship in his ROOKIE season by ONE POINT, and then WON it in his SECOND season, and then there was like a FIVE YEAR gap before he won it again.

2015

Damnnn this car was fiiiinneeeeeee.

They do more laps in testing than any other car AND do it on a single power unit. And then. Australia. They take a one-two THIRTY FOUR seconds ahead of the third place Ferrari.

2015 Chinese Grand Prix

Nico is second in a one-two but claims that Lewis kept backing him up into Seb, trying to compromise his race (and help out his boyfriend).

Lewis gave zero shits: "It's not my job to look after Nico's race, it's my job to manage the car and bring the car home as healthy and as fast as possible. That's what I did."

2015 U.S. Grand Prix

If Lewis wins here he could also claim the title with three races to spare (you have to remember back then the title fight often went up to the last race so this was pretty cool)

Lewis very aggressively forced Rosberg wide at Turn 1 to claim the lead, and then there was some sexy fighting between the Mercs and Redbull all race. Nico led in the closing stages but made a mistake, running deep into a corner and letting Lewis past with only a handful of laps to go.

Nico finished P2 and had not only lost the race but the championship title. Nico was fuming, saying Lewis’ move at the start was “one step too far”.

This is the infamous cap throw in the cool down room. Lewis throws Nico his P2 hat, Nico straight up yeets it back at him. I tear up just thinking about it. They grow up so fast.

2016

Nico had came so close to winning and I guess this was just, the last straw. All or nothing. This year he literally gave it everything he had. Lewis and him stopped speaking, Nico gave up literally the rest of his life and even stopped sleeping in the same bed as his wife and taking care of his kids, instead spending every moment trying to get into Lewis’ head. Honestly, I think he might be the only one that could beat Lewis. Just because he knew him *so well*. He literally threw away like 16 years of friendship. But also it’s like, he had to be world champion. He *had to*. His dad was champion and his whole life he’s been preparing to win it too. Tough luck that he raced in the same era as Mr. Best Driver The Sport Has Ever Seen.

Nico won the last few races of 2015, and the first four races of 2016. Lewis had a couple car problems and Nico had a good lead on him in the championship.

2016 Spanish Grand Prix

Gentlemen. A short view back to the past. Nico had made a switch error on the formation lap causing the car to go into the wrong engine mode. So he was running a lot slower than Lewis, who was fighting to claim back the lead.

Nico closed the door to keep him back, and Lewis lost control on the grass, and spins into Nico and taking them both out of the race in the first lap. This is probably one of the most iconic crashes. I’m pretty sure there’s a clip of this somewhere in black and white with the titanic music over the top.

Niki Lauda blamed this one on Lewis (I guess even a supportive dad has to be critical sometimes) "Lewis is too aggressive. It is stupid, we could've won this race".

2016 Austrian Grand Prix

Nico had been struggling with a brake issue all race but was still on the way to win it. But in the last lap Lewis had caught him up and gone in for the overtake.

Typical Nico not taking any shit, refusing to be the guy that backs out and they collide. Lewis took the win and a damaged Nico dropped to fourth. From first. In the last lap.

Both of them blamed each other and tired dad team boss Toto Wolff threatened team orders in future races.

The stewards blamed Nico for the incident, issuing him two penalty points for failing to allow "racing room" and causing a collision.

2016 Abu Dhabi

In the final laps of the race, Lewis ignored team-orders from his race engineer and the technical director.

He deliberately slowed and backed Nico into the pack hoping they overtake him, and there would be enough of a points difference to win the title.

Nico finished second and won the title by five points.

And then,,, Nico announced a surprise retirement during the FIA prize giving ceremony.

Lewis’ response:

"This is the first time he's won in 18 years, hence why it was not a surprise that he decided to stop.” (We stan a petty king)

“But he's also got a family to focus on and probably wants to have more children. Formula One takes up so much of your time."

“In terms of missing the rivalry, of course because we started karting when we were 13 and we would always talk about being champions. When I joined this team, Nico was there, which was something we spoke about when we were kids. So it's going to be very, very strange, and, for sure, it will be sad to not have him in the team next year."

And now they are kind of on speaking terms but not really, they are both pretty private but I think they are at the ‘awkward small talk when we run into each other at the supermarket’ stage of the break up.

[paula-of-christ]

Good morning, hope you're doing well! I'm interested in learning more about Catholicism however I am not really sure how exactly I could do that. My whole family is atheist, so growing up I haven't had any contact with any form of Christianity (or any form of religion whatsoever). Do you have any recommendations on academic books on theology (or something of the sort), or any advice in general on how I should approach this?

My biggest thing about approaching this is to not approach it academically at first. You should foster a relationship with Christ first, and start attending a parish (you can look up "catholic diocese [closest city to you/your town]" to find parishes near you. They generally have a search function by town]. Even not understanding what's going on at Mass, the priest giving blessings and attending different parishes to see the different styles that parishes offer is good to get to know. Maybe you like the priests homily at one parish more than another. Usually priests will be outside the sanctuary (where Mass actually takes place) after Mass to greet people as they leave. When you're comfortable you can introduce yourself and he will direct you on how to start taking RCIA classes. Classes have pretty much already started so you may or may not be able to join in the next month or two. From there the parish will handle theologically learning.

My biggest things for helping your prayer life will be learning how to pray the prayers of the rosary. It's ok if you are stumbling or have to stare at the prayers the entire time at first. When you are first learning it isnt going to be very meditative, after you have the prayers memorized, you'll be able to meditate on the mysteries or any other meditations you'd like to think about while praying (like if you want to pray for a specific intention/person). Doing this daily is best.

Get used to sitting in silence and without thinking for 5 minutes a day. Normal meditation stuff, because that will get you used to the environment of prayer.

Read the gospels. There are four of them, titled Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John (in that order). Most bibles have notes at the bottom of the page, even non-"study" bibles have short notes. Getting a Catholic Bible (like from catholic online or in person bookstores) is best, since the notes will be approved by catholic biblical scholars. You can ask people online or Google other questions you have that aren't answered in the text. And, once you find a parish, you could ask your priest or RCIA director, that's what they are there for.

You are not expected to know anything about Catholicism before you start RCIA, and starting with the "logical"/theological part of religion before deciding to convert is silly. The RCIA class my fiancé just started is focusing on the relationship with Christ part, and then after he decides he definitely wants to continue with it, they will start going over Sacraments and theology and Dogma (official teachings).

If you want a history of Christianity book that's good I recommend The Story of Christianity (volumes 1 and 2) by Gonzalez. The first book is the Advent of Christ until the 1500s, the second one is the Protestant Reformation until the modern day. It talks about the historical reasons for certain theological developments as well as the theological assertions of most major Christian denominations.

Context of my fiancé starting RCIA last weekend from a background of atheism/lax cultural Christianity and the other gentleman in the class that also is coming from the same background. They both started going to Mass at the very start of Lent (the season right before Easter) and fell in love with it and decided to convert.

[hongism]

volume up - p. seonghwa 18+

day 7: public sex - park seonghwa warning: explicit smut, unprotected sex, public sex, dirty talk, exhibitionisn, creampie, sex in a karaoke room, daddy kink, breeding/impregnation kink, if u squint corruption kink wc: 1.8k genre: pwp, smut, 18+

​​​

If you had to pick one thing about Seonghwa that you love the most, it would be an easy answer. His voice. Everything about him is near perfect in your mind, but his voice has always stood out to you more than anything else. Not in a sappy, ‘I’m only saying this because we’re together’ sort of way. Rather, in the way where you could sit at the back of a karaoke room and listen to him sing for hours on end. That’s exactly what you are doing right now in fact — well, that’s what you were doing approximately ten minutes ago. Now, Seonghwa has you pressed to the back of the couch you’re sitting on, lips teasing the shell of your ear. You’re too lost in the heat of pleasure and arousal to think about how the hell you got in this position. When you’re more coherent though, you’re certain it will all boil down to the fact that Seonghwa was being a bit too sultry in his rendition of Taemin’s Move.

For now, you are more than happy to settle on the fact that Seonghwa’s lips are moving down the length of your neck and coming to a halt near the start of your collarbone. He nips at the skin, not hard enough to make you bleed, but just enough pressure to cause your nerves to light up with the sensation. You shift your hands to rest against his waist and try to twist his body. You don’t have enough strength to do so, however, so instead, you have to pull Seonghwa’s head back with your hand.

“Let me ride you,” you demand, whispering the heated words to his lips. Seonghwa clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Music still plays in the background, not loud enough to drown out your words, but loud enough for the bass to thrum in your veins.

“That’s rather bold seeing as we’re still in public,” he murmurs in response, but he doesn’t pull away from you. A breath of hesitation follows, then his warm breath cascades over your face once more. “Unless that’s why you want to do it.”

You don’t offer a strict yes or no confirmation, instead balling the material of his shirt in your fists and twisting until he now has his back against the booth. You throw a leg over his thighs and straddle him in an instant. You’re almost certain that you can feel your own arousal radiating off you in waves, but the look in Seonghwa’s eyes shows you that you aren’t alone in the feeling. He braces his hands on your hips.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he hums before tugging at the zipper of your shorts. You sit up for him, letting his hands do all the work and maneuver you however he needs to in order to toss the clothing off to the side. He doesn’t reach for your underwear though – a pretty lace pair that you know he loves – and you’re about to question him about it when he catches your curiosity. “We’ll keep those on just in case someone walks in. Can’t give them the privilege of seeing my princess fully undressed, no?”

My princess. The words cause the knot of arousal to tighten further, and you waste no time in reaching for his zipper as well. His erection strains behind it, throbbing already even though you’ve barely done anything more than a bit of kissing and grinding. Seonghwa rushes to help you and pulls his pants down just enough to let his cock loose.

“Can’t wait to have your cock inside me,” you whine as you grip the base of his leaking member. Dragging your hand up, you trace over his slit with your index finger and collect a bit of the precum there. A giggle falls from your lips when you bring that same finger to your tongue, arching a brow at Seonghwa while he watches on in a state of stunned silence. It takes several seconds, but he recovers and squeezes hard at your waist.

“You’re too much of a tease, baby girl. Just want me to ruin you anywhere and everywhere, huh?” He growls before pulling you flush against his chest. His tongue flicks over the junction of your neck and shoulder, teasing the skin there a few times before he latches on with his teeth. Your following moan is far too loud for safety, and you can only hope that the music is loud enough to drown it out. Instinctively, you clench your fingers around Seonghwa’s cock. The action elicits a moan from him as well, though he does a much better job at keeping the sound relatively contained.

“Fuck me, Hwa. I’m tired of waiting.”

“I should teach you a lesson in patience instead.” Seonghwa tsks but brings a hand down to shove your underwear to the side. There’s already a damp spot on your underwear from where some of your juices have leaked out, and Seonghwa inhales sharply as his fingers run over that wetness. “So wet already? Shame on you, princess. Not so innocent and pure after all, is it?” The words have you squirming in his lap; all the power and control you exuded earlier has gone out the window. It takes a split second for Seonghwa to gain control, and less than that for him to make you a writhing mess with only his words. “Hm, it seems like that’s it. The idea of having my dick in you makes you such a needy cockslut. How precious.”

“Pl-Please…” you trail off, unable to finish the thought without embarrassment overtaking your senses. Seonghwa pulls away from your neck to look you in the eye, but you can’t match his intense gaze. It’s Seonghwa’s turn to arch a brow, and a smirk stretches his lips a little wider.

“What is it, baby girl? What do you need me to do?” Your hand falls away from his cock and settles on his hip, chest rising and falling unevenly as you dare to look him in the eye.

“I need you to fuck me, Daddy,” you whisper. Seonghwa’s pupils expand a bit at your words, and his Adam’s Apple bobs a bit as he swallows around nothing. “Fill me up and fuck me until I’m full of your cum. Wanna feel you in me for days. Breed me like the bitch I am.” Seonghwa grips you tighter until you can feel his cock twitching against your stomach.

“Fuck, in public of all places,” Seonghwa hisses. He fumbles to lift your hips and settle his member between your legs, tip teasing your entrance with the lightest pressure. Despite his fervent movements, he penetrates you slowly and stretches you open inch by inch unit he’s fully settled in your tight walls. “You’re so tight, shit.” You wiggle a little on his lap, trying to get more comfortable but it only causes more strain to his weeping cock. “H-Hold on, princess, hold on. Don’t move yet, don’t move.”

“I’m ready for you to fuck me,” you protest. You throw a small pout out to accentuate your words in the hopes that Seonghwa will fall for your pleading eyes. It works like a charm because a moment later, Seonghwa rolls his hips against yours. His length presses deeper in you but it’s not enough for either of you. You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, shifting your weight onto your knees so that he can fuck up into you with more force and ease. The new angle has you seeing stars, and just bracing yourself on his shoulders isn’t enough to keep you upright. You drop your head to Seonghwa’s shoulder, moaning into the skin rather than the open air.

“You’re so desperate for Daddy’s cock that you’ll take it anywhere,” Seonghwa groans, words caressing your hairline.

“I-I’m a good s-slut for you, Daddy.”

“Yes, baby girl, such a good slut taking my dick so well.” You drop your hips back onto his cock and try to match the brutal pace he’s started. Seonghwa guides you through the thrusts. The lewd sound of skin slapping skin fills the air, even though the two of you try to keep the volume of your moans to a minimum, you can’t conceal the sound of your fucking. Seonghwa drops a hand to the couch and fumbles around for a few moments without losing his pace for a second. Taemin’s vocals increase in volume, pulsing louder in your ears, and you’ve lost track of how many times the sound has played on repeat in the background.

Your body remains alight with pleasure, walls clenching hard around Seonghwa as he continues to ram against your sweet spot time and time again. For a moment, you forget where you are and lose yourself completely in the addicting feeling of Seonghwa’s cock gliding in and out of your hole. You wish you could say something other than ‘yes’ but that seems to be the only word in your vocabulary in the heat of the moment. Seonghwa only makes your sanity devolve further into nothingness as he continues to whisper pure filth into your ear.

“You’re such a whore for my cum. Just want me to breed you like a bitch in heat.” That alone is nearly enough to bring you over the edge, but you cling to him a little tighter and attempt to stave off the orgasm as long as you can.

“Fu-uck me full of your cum, Daddy. I want my – ah, m-my tummy to swell with your cum,” you babble. Seonghwa takes control of your hips, and you’re grateful for it because you can’t keep the pace up any longer thanks to your aching muscles.

“Cum for me first, princess.”

It’s all the permission you need to let go, and your lips fall open in a silent scream as you reach your high. Seonghwa fucks you through it, pace slowing down considerably as not to overwhelm you, but you can tell that he’s about ready to burst at the seams himself. It doesn’t last much longer than that, and Seonghwa pulls you all the way down before spilling his hot seed inside you. The sensation combined with your still-rolling orgasm has your vision blurring at the edges. That darkness lingers until your high passes, and when you finally come down, Seonghwa is there to greet you with a hasty kiss on the lips.

“You’d better hope you can keep all my cum in you until we get home,” he says, pulling back just enough to breathe the words.

“And if I don't?”

“I don’t think you’ll particularly enjoy not cumming for a week, will you?”

...

a/n: hi @beefyjoon​​ ily i hope u enjoy :3

link to kinktober masterlist

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[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

  “ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

   ‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem. 

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

     The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

  “Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

  “Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

  “You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

  “John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

  “Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

   You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

  “Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

  “Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

  “It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

  “Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

  “Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

  “You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

  After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

  “Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

  “Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

  “I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

  “Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

  You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

  “Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

  The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

  You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

  Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

  You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

  You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

  Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

  Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

  Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.  

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

  He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

  “C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

  The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

  “Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

  The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

  “We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

  “Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

  “I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

  To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

  On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

  “Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

  “You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.  

  “Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

  “You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

  “Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

  “As in bi-curious?”

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

  When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

    ||\\

  It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

  “Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

  She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV.  “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

  “Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

  “Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

  It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

  The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

  Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

  “Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

  “Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

  “Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

  You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

  “Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

  “Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

  “Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

  Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

  Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

  “Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

  He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

  “He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

  “None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

  When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

  “Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

  “You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

  Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

  “Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

  He’s lying. You can tell.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

  “Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

  He’s angry.

  You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

  “Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

  He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

  “Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

  As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

  Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

   Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

  The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

  “Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

  You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.    

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

  You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

  “I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

  “Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

  He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

  “Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

  “Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

  “It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

  He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

  “Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

  “Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

  “Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

  “Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

   She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

     You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

  At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

  “You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

  “It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

  “I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

  “Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

  “Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

  “I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

  “Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

  Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

  As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

  You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

  “Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

  “What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

  “Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

  “Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

  “Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

  “You’re bossy today.”

  You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

  “Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

  “I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.  

  All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

  “Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

  “I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

  “Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

  “Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

  “I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

  “I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

  “Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

  “Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

        ||\\

  You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

  “I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

  “Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

  “I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

  “How can you even say that?” he barked.

  “Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

  He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

  “Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

  “Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

  “I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

   A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it. 

   And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close. 

   Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together.  You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

  “How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

   He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

  “I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

  “You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

  “That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

  You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

  “It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

  “It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

  “Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

  He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

 “Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

  “Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

  Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

  As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

  Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

  She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Last time you said that…”

  “I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

  “Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

  He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

  “Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

  “Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

  “You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

  “Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

  “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

  “I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

  Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

  “What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

  I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

     You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

  But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

  “Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

  “Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

  “I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

  He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

  “I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

  “So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

  “I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

  “Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

   He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

  “Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant. 

  “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly. 

  That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

  “For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

   By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

  “That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

  “What about you?”

  “Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

  “But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

  “That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

  Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.  

  You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

  He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

   Well, shit.

  He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

  You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

  You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

  “You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath.  You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

  You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

  “Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

  “What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

  “We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

  “Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

  You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

  “Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

  “Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

  ||\\

  He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

  He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

  He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

  So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

 ||\\

    “What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

  Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

  You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

  “We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

  “What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

  “Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

  “Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

  “Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

  “Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

  As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

  “Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

  “Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

  He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

  Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

  “Yoongi, what-“

  “Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

  No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

  At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

  “Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

   Brother?

  “How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

  “Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

  “Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

  “People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

  “Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

  “I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

  “Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

  “Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

  “It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

  Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

  “Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

  “Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

  Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

  “Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

  Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.    

  There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

  “How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

  He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

  “I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

  “What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

  “Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

  This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

  You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.  

  “Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

   ||\\

                                                       “Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

     It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

  No. He promised.

  You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

  Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

  Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

  You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

  “Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

  “When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

  “I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

  “Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

  He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

  “I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

  “What, now? Y/N-“

  “I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

  Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

  “No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

  He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

  Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

  You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

  You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

  “Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

  He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

  “Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

  Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

  “Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

  “No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

  When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

  Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

 ||\\

    The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

  During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

  “Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

  The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

  “Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

  “Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

  “It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

  “You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

  You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

  “It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

  Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

  Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

  Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

  “Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

  You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

  “Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

  You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

  “So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

  “Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

  “I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

  “Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

  “I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

  “Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

  Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

  “H-How come?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

  You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

  “Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

  “That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

  “Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

  “I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

  You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

  “Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

  Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

  “If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

  He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

  “Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

  “Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

  “Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

  “Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

  “Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

  That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

  Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

  “No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

  “Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

  “No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

  He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

  “You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

  You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

  “I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

  You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

  Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

  Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

  You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

  “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

  “She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

  As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

  “Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

  All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

  “Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

  “We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

  “Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

  “Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

  “Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

  “I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

  “Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

  “I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

  “Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

  Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

  You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

  “Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

  “Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

  “Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

  “Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

  “Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

  “Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

  “What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

  His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

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Part 6

The eve of race day. You had woken up early as planned. Zemo would be here soon to pick you up. You had packed a little case for the weekend, but you had spent the entire in nervous excitement.

You would be staying with Zemo. At his place. Just the two of you.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Zemo: I'm outside.

You grab your bag and head outside, locking up behind you. Not at all surprised to find another car of his waiting for you. He was leaning against the hood of the car.

You smile as you approach him.

"Miss me?" You asked, teasing him.

"Every day since I left."

You laugh softly, but you could tell he meant his reply. Your poor heart was going crazy.

Zemo takes your bag and puts it safely in the car. You climb in while he does. Once he's in, you settle for the long drive down to the track. The radio plays quietly in the background.

"You can sleep if you like, I promise there won't be any speed racing along the way," he chuckles.

You smile as you get as comfortable as you can in a car. "I think I'll do that, an hour or so."

You're didn't even make an hour before you woke up, but a lot of distance had been covered. Zemo smiles at you as you shift in your seat, waking up fully.

"Coffee?"

You glance down to see two take out cups, steam still rising from them, slotted between you in cup holders. You smile as you take one.

"Thanks. You stopped for coffee?"

"The least I could do for coming to get you so early," he smiles sweetly. "I can pull over at the next stop if you're hungry, but we won't be on the road for too much longer now."

"I'll wait then. Thanks." You open the cup and inhale that delicious scent. A beautiful way to wake up.

Conversation is kept causal for the rest if the trip. Soon Zemo pulls up at a nice house. He wasn't kidding when he said it was bigger than your little apartment.

You climb out of the car and look up at it.

"This is nice."

"Thank you. It's just one of my houses." He comes to stand beside you. You eye him in slight suspicion.

"One of your houses? How many houses do you have?"

"Several. Most of them in Europe."

You continue to look at him with suspicion.

"I figured you had money because of all the cars, but I'm thinking there's more to it than that."

He gives a cheeky grin as he walks up to the front door.

"Perhaps."

Who is this man?

You follow him to the door and then enter as he opens it for you. The inside is super nice. Doesn't exactly looked lived in, but you can tell it's his place.

"Now this suits you," you say, looking around the room.

"Does it? You fit in quite nicely too."

You smile as you make yourself comfortable. Zemo drops your bag by the door and comes over to sit with you.

"I have something I want to ask you. I don't need an answer right away, but I want to ask you now."

"Why is it?" You turn tour body so you're giving him your full attention.

"I have been debating this for days, but what you say if I asked you to work for me?"

Your gaze flickers between his eyes, your brain trying to catch up with what he just said. Work for him? Like... work for him? What would you even do?

"You do realise I'm no mechanic. I make coffee for a living."

"I'm aware."

"What can I possibly do for you?"

"Assist me? Manage me?" He sat their smirking at you.

"Manage you? I don't know what in doing most of the time, and you want me to manage you? Don't you have a manager?"

"Myself."

"You can do that?"

"I can," he chuckles. "If you worked with me, you could be at every race. I would get to see you every day."

"You are honest to God serious?"

"I am."

You gaze down at your lap in thought. He was actually offering you a job. You would have so much to look up before hand, but what if you took it?

You look up to see him looking at you.

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask for," he says, smiling. He gets up and heads into the kitchen to make you breakfast.

You're already pulling out your phone, researching what you may need to help him.

It would be pretty cool to tell people you were the manager of Helmut Zemo. Certainly more exciting than the barista who makes nice coffee.

You eat, Zemo shows you the room he had made up for you, and then you both head out to see the car. You spend all day watching him go up and down the airstrip, beating his own record.

He was ready for tomorrow.

Race day. You're both up early. Zemo talks you through the day and what he has prepared for you. You're on the list for his crew, so you'll have access to the areas he team do. You still get to watch from his stand.

Of course, you arrived together. He parks up and you walk into the stadium. You're keeping your eye out. Zemo knows what for.

It's not until you're outside waiting for Zemo to change when you see them. Stark has arrived, in his gear, your friend under his arm as they wave at the crowds. All cameras on them.

He did it. He made it public.

Your friend was smiling away and waving at people, kissing his jaw and placing her hand on his chest.

Despite the display, it didn't seem real to you. She couldn't see it, but you could.

A hand is placed in your shoulder. You look up to see Zemo standing beside you. His eyes are on you, but you know he saw them.

"She may not forgive me, but I will not forgive him for breaking her heart when the time comes."

Zemo says nothing and nods once.

You turn your eyes away from the 'happy couple' and look at the car. It looked all shiny and new.

"You've got this today," you say, turning to smile at him.

"I know," he replies with a cocky smile.

You find yourself teaching for his hand and smiling softly at him. His fingers curl around yours.

"I'll be right here when you cross that finish line," you tell him.

"And then drinks."

"Ah yes, our date. How can I forget?"

"I have one more request before I go out there."

"Oh?"

Zemo brings you entwined hands to his lips and kisses yours softly.

"Call me Helmut. I want to hear you say my name at least once."

You smile.

"Alright. Then, this is for you, Helmut." You lean in and press a firm kiss to his cheek, caressing the other one with your free hand.

He smiles.

The way you say his name sets alight all those feelings be bad been trying to contain.

You pull away.

"You better go."

You can hear the racers being called to the starting line. He squeezes your hand and reluctantly lets go. You pick up his helmet and give it to him. Once it's on, he climbs into the car and you watch as he follows the other drivers. You quickly climb over the barricade to the stands and watch from up there, wanting to see his car for as long as you could.

You hadn't noticed the way your friend had been looking at you from across the way.

You stand on edge. You had this really good gut feeling in your stomach. Something was telling you this was going to be the day.

The lights change. The engines rev. You close your eyes to listen to the sound. It's the greatest sound in the world. The flag waves, tyres spin. They're off.

You don't even realise you're holding your breath.

The cars are out of sight so quickly, you then your gaze to the screen. Right there in front of you is Stark and Zemo.

They move in perfect sync around the track, not once colliding with the other. It's almost as if they're playing a careful game. Your poor lip will be so sore from your nervous nibbles.

Stark takes the lead for quite some time, but Zemo is right there behind him.

"Please. Please." You're whispering to yourself. You have fingers crossed, you're unable to stand still as you watch, you're pleading with whoever is listening.

The last leg of the race is approaching.

The standard across from you cheer loudly. That's Stark's lot.

You're beginning to doubt that feeling you had.

It all happens so quickly.

Just as you blink, that purple beauty of a car pulls ahead. It's as if it had been saving it's energy for the last hurdle. You gasp sharply as he pulls so far ahead, even Stark is confused. You're not sure if you dreamt it or it as that car speeds across the finish line.

You can't contain how happy you are. You run from the stands, jump the barricade and run as fast as your feet will take you. By the time you get down to the arena, all cars have crossed the line. No casualties on this day.

Zemo is out of his car, helmet taken from him by one of the others. He sees you coming and opens his arms. You're off your feet as soon as your arms around him. He's laughing in your ear.

"You did it! You did it!" You're laughing, smiling, cheering.

He puts you down, but he doesn't let go. You hold onto him tightly. People gather to take photos or to try and interview him, but neither of you care.

You pull back enough to look at him.

He kisses you.

Right there in front of everyone. Cameras are flashing, people are shouting his name.

No one else matters.

You smile against his lips.

You only let go when you have to. He gets taken off for his award, but you're not far behind. You're so proud of him.

Stark looks at him from the second place podium. Your friend on the other side from where you stand.

She doesn't look happy.

Once the formalities are over, Zemo returns to you and puts his arm around your shoudler. You're both smiling like fools as you walk back.

He beat Stark. He did it.

And he kissed you!

You're over the moon. This could honestly be pinned as the best day of your life.

It's not until you're out of sight from the press when he pins you up against the wall and claims your lips again. You melt against him, letting him kiss you over and over.

Neither of you were even bothered about the race anymore. He just wanted you.

You part, but only slightly.

"Zemo-"

"No."

"Helmut," you chuckle, "I'm accepting the job offer."

"That didn't take much convincing," he teases.

You roll your eyes and pull him back to you, kissing him again.

Meanwhile, in Stark's locker, your friend was going crazy. She was looking at her phone which was blowing up with images of you and Zemo kissing.

Today was suppose to be the day she could proudly go public about her and Stark, but even that had been stolen from them.

Tony looked at her from across the room.

"Let me tell you something interesting," he said, not all sounding affected by his loss today.

She goes over to hear what he has to say.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle

[ashes-in-a-jar]

And I Owe it All to You

Hello! This is a fic I wrote based on @speakerunfolding 's wonderful Jonmartin scottish cabin comic which I couldn't stop looking at.

I wrote this while watching Dirty Dancing for the first time in many years. Quite an experience xD

Summary: It's a night in for Jon and Martin in the cabin and they decide to pop out the wine.

Rated: T

Word count: 2.2K

Tw: alcohol, drinking and being slightly drunk, minor injuries

Maybe it was the fact that neither of them had gone out much in the past few months. Maybe the Fears prefer their avatars lightweight. Maybe Scottish alcohol tended to be stronger than English alcohol. But the sparkling wine they bought on a whim at the village store shouldn't have had the effect on them that it did.

Having emptied two cups each (Jon was actually drinking out of a mug, since they found only one wine glass, and he conceded the honor of feeling classy to Martin) they have already become giggling messes over some dumb joke regarding one Peter Lukas and a computer that refused to boot.

It wasn't even that funny. But there they were, acting like complete fools leaning against each other on the couch, legs propped up in a completely uncomfortable position on the small living room table (dangerously close to the now nearly empty bottle), holding their cups precariously in one hand and holding hands with the other.

And enjoying every moment of it.

The giggling subsided. They took a moment of comfortable silence to regain their breath and enjoy another sip.

"Can't believe he didn't know he could just u-unplug and replug the whole thing. Even I know that." Jon's speech was ever so slightly slurred, his leftover wine sloshing in his cup.

Martin hummed and then snorted.

"Jon, you barely know how to do that either. I had to teach you how to open new tabs in the same internet window for christ's sake."

"It was a new laptop! All of the buttons were in the wrong p-place." Jon protested weakly, starting to hiccup.

"Sure."

"Prick." Jon nudged him fondly. "You underestimate my vast knowledge of 'modern' things."

Martin snorted again. "Modern, you say?"

"Yes Martin, what do you take me for?"

"An old geezer." Martin tousled his hair gently. Jon leaned into the touch. Then, the words sunk in.

"Hey! Why do you and Georgie keep thinking that? I can know pop culture!"

"Oh yeah? Tell me, what do you know?"

"Uh..." Jon struggled to straighten himself, which resulted in actually sliding further off the couch. "Um...I know S-Star Wars! And uh, Matrix? I think. I've seen it once. Oh! That, that dinosaur movie! And... Titanic?" He finished unconvincingly. 

Martin looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Really, Jon? You're just naming movies now.  And not even new ones. Did you actually watch any of those?"

Jon avoided his gaze "I... I may have fallen asleep during uh, during some of these?"

Martin gave him a long look. 

"Yes alright, I fell asleep in all of them."

Martin huffed "Thought so". 

Jon gave up trying to salvage his dignity, taking a final long gulp from his mug, a small drop trickling down his chin. Martin swiped it away, absent-mindedly licking his finger, not noticing as Jon hiccuped, his face heating up considerably. 

"I-I did like the Princess Bride though— that was a nice film, if a bit sensational." 

"Hang on. You watched the Princess Bride? And liked it?" Martin asked, incredulous. 

"I'm allowed to like things, Martin. B-besides, Georgie made me watch it. Said it was a- a core staple of cinema history o-or something."

"Oh yeah? Did she make you watch those other movies as well?" Martin asked casually, swirling the liquid in his cup. 

"Unfortunately yes. She would cruelly  shake me awake when I finally managed to get some shut-eye for once in my life. I-it's not my fault the only times I could sleep normally were during those, those damn films! She woke me up for that ridiculous scene with the, uh, the bullets in the Matrix. And that lifting scene in that unseemly dancing movie."

"What lifting scene?" 

"That movie with all of the dancing? Th-the one where he lifts her at the end in the middle of the crowd with that song? At least, uh, at least I think there was a lot of dancing, I wasn't actually, hmmm... Focused at the time." 

"Oh my god Jon, do you mean Dirty Dancing? You fell asleep during Dirty Dancing?" Martin's delighted incredulity was plain on his face. 

Jon scrunched up his nose. "That's the name of the film? Good thing I fell asleep then."

"Jesus Jon. That's incredible, good on Georgie! Heh, at least you woke up for that scene. It's iconic, you know." 

"Yes, yes." Jon waved at him dismissively, reaching unsteadily for the wine bottle. Martin gently took it away from Jon and with a much steadier hand, poured the remaining bit of wine into his mug.

"Thank you Martin," Jon mumbled into the cup. 

Another warm silence fell on them, lulling Jon into a half drunken stupor. He nearly threw his cup in the air when Martin's words startled him back into awareness. 

"I can do that scene you know, that lifting part." He was looking intently at his glass. 

"R-really?" Jon hiccuped. "How?" 

"I… I had a boyfriend who wanted to try it. So we did. Turns out that I'm good at balancing large things that aren't stacks of paper."

Jon hummed. He suddenly imagined very vividly Martin lifting someone else in that way and felt a pang in his chest. What was that?

Another beat of silence. 

"Do. Do you want to try?"

"W-what?" 

"Do you want to do that lifting scene with me? I'm sure I could lift you." Martin suddenly sat up, his tone excited and anticipating. He looked at Jon. 

Jon shifted. "Uh, I-I guess it's fine? Sure."

"Okay! Let's do it then!" Martin got up on his feet, swaying ever so slightly. 

Jon looked up at him surprised. "W-wait, now? Shouldn't we wait? You know, to be less uh, inebriated? Don't you need to see the scene again for a reminder?"

"Mmm. We don't have reception so I can't exactly watch the scene again. But, but I'm pretty sure I can do it now, definitely sure! Come on." He held out his hand expectantly. 

Jon took it, stumbling only a bit as he got up. Martin took out his phone . 

"I might even have the song saved. Let me check."

A moment later he gave a whoop of success and the song began to play, filling the main space of the cabin with its soft, if slightly tinny sound. 

Jon stretched, releasing the tension in his muscles. "All right Martin, where do you want me?" 

"You need a bit of a running start, and then you need to jump high right as you reach my arms, so stand over there." He indicated towards the door of the bedroom. 

"Right." Jon stumbled only once as he made his way towards the designated spot. Martin moved across the room stopping right near the kitchen door. 

The song kept playing calmly in the background, slowly building up towards the upbeat chorus. 

Jon looked at him again "I dunno Martin. A-are you sure?" He suddenly felt a bit more fuzzy than he did sitting down. He hiccuped again. 

"Please Jon, you're thin as a rake. Have a little faith." His face wore that determined look that Jon couldn't help but love. 

"Alright, as you wish." He grinned, proud of his clever reference as he took his stance. 

Martin rolled his eyes as well as his sleeves. "Steady on Westley, this is the part."

Jon felt a rush of excitement as he caught Martin's enthusiasm. "Ready?" He asked, bouncing a little on his feet in preparation. 

"Ready." Martin crouched a little, holding out his arms. 

As the chorus neared Jon, with a wild drunken energy, took his running start, jumping up as he reached Martin, grabbing on to his shoulders for support. Martin firmly gripped Jon's hips, bent his legs and with a strained grunt lifted Jon in the air as the song reached a crescendo. 

Jon was flying. 

He laughed giddily, stretching out his arms in elation. 

As Martin continued holding him in his strong grip he looked down at his beautiful boyfriend. Despite the exertion, Martin looked up with the softest expression as the song kept playing for them in the background. 

For a moment everything was perfect. 

And then Martin leaned backwards a bit too far. 

In hindsight, they should have known this would happen. While Martin was better at hiding it, he was as drunk as Jon. And Jon's already impeded balance certainly didn't help. 

As they went down, Jon idly wondered if they could also recreate the rest of the dance if they practiced. And then he hit his nose on the floor. 

After a moment of stunned silence the pain rushed in and Jon grunted. 

Turns out that while most of him was protected from the fall by Martin's soft and sturdy body, his knee also missed the mark and crashed into the floor as well.

Muffled by Jon's body above him, Martin squirmed. "Ugh, Jon, are you okay?"

When Jon didn't respond, Martin groaned and picked himself off the floor, lifting Jon in the process. 

"Oh my god, Jon! You're bleeding!" 

Jon's face throbbed. And so did his knee. His hazy drunken state began fading away as the pain sharpened. 

"I-I think I hit something." 

"I'm so sorry Jon! God, where are the tissues?" Seemingly having sobered up considerably, Martin picked Jon up and carried him bodily into the bathroom. Jon allowed all of this to happen as the shock of the fall dissipated. He let Martin easily lift him onto the sink counter as he shoved a towel into his hands.

"Hold it against your nose while I... Jesus, your knee too?" He stepped back now hurriedly lifting the stained pant leg to reveal the damage. 

"God, Jon I'm so sorry. Hold still, I'm going to find the first aid kit. We shouldn't have done this. This was a complete disaster." 

He kept muttering irritably as he walked away. Jon sighed and pressed the towel to his throbbing nose. His foggy mind still felt as though it was trying to catch up to the recent chain of events. He spoke slowly, attempting to convey himself with clarity. 

"Martin, it's fine. Honestly, I think we both know I've had worse-" 

"You nearly broke your bloody neck! God, where's that goddamn kit." He shouted from across the cabin as Jon heard the rattling of drawers being forcefully pulled open. 

"Martin, please I-I'm okay. It's just a little bit of bruising. It honestly already feels better." 

And it actually did. In the chaos after the fall, they both forgot Jon's... situation. Jon watched as the cut on his knee slowly closed up, leaving only the drying stain of blood behind. The pain in his nose was slowly vanishing as well. 

By the time Martin came back holding the bag, Jon already put down the towel and was tentatively poking at the previously bruised spot. 

Martin stopped in front of him, looking at him with a mixture of emotions Jon couldn't parse out. He smiled at Martin hesitantly. 

"See? Good as new. No harm no foul, I say."

Martin let out a long suffering sigh and took the towel out of Jon's hands. He quietly dampened it in the sink and stepped closer to gently pat at his face. 

Jon looked at him. This close he could practically count his faded freckles, follow every line and trace every mark that was so beautifully Martin. He let himself smile. 

"I must say, I'm quite impressed by your strength, if we weren't so inebriated, I'm sure you could have kept me up there for quite a while," he said quietly, enjoying the fluttering touches. 

"It wasn't because I was drunk." Martin muttered. 

"Pardon?" 

"I said it wasn't because I was drunk that I dropped you," he said a little louder, oddly flustered. "I was looking at... At you. You just looked... I dunno, happy, I guess? I just never seen that expression on you before and it..." He trailed off, concentrating intently on Jon's knee, finishing up cleaning up the blood. 

"M-Martin, look at me. Please look up here." Jon gently tugged at his shoulders to pull him up. At this height, sitting on the counter, he actually came face to face with Martin, seeing his blush and ruffled expression right in front of him as opposed to slightly above him like he normally did 

He lifted his palms to bracket Martin's warm cheeks. 

"There you are," he whispered and leaned in for a quick kiss. He then leaned back slightly. "You know that I'm perfectly happy. Here with you. Y-you know that, right?" 

Martin looked at him for a few moments, then smiled. "Yeah, I do."

"Good. Now, help me down so we can clean up the wine stain, which I'm sure is growing on the carpet right now."

"Wha- oh," Martin said as he turned to see the fallen glass that apparently toppled during the mayhem. 

"Yeah. Let me down?" Jon said again, holding out his arms. 

Martin turned back to him, a teasing expression on his face. "As you wish." 

Jon groaned and allowed himself once again to be pulled, secretly enjoying Martin's burst of giggles as they both walked back into the crime scene that was their drunken night in. 

All things considered, it was a pretty good night. 

[shellyseashell]

QUEER REP IN GILDED

@deprivedmusicaljunkie since you wanted this

I can’t find the original mm queer rep post so this is a separate post. If anyone has the link to the original please tell me tumblr hates me.

So I finished Gilded a bit ago and I have thoughts. Overall, this felt like the one Marissa put the most effort into, though she definitely has a lot to go.

Starting with Lorainne (?? I have no idea how to spell her name) and Frieda, I thought this was her better attempt at gay parents. She definitely did a better job of establishing them as individual characters. They felt like separate people outside of being gay parents, and it was super nice. Also seeing two older women, one of whom has a child, in the awkward blushy stage was nice. And Leyna knows what’s up and that was fun to read. Side note, but do we know how old Leyna is? I always thought she was like 8.

In terms of their relationship, I’m not sure how I feel about them not being a big part. On one hand, they’re not who the story is about, so they’re really just background gays (which sucks, but at least they’re there, I guess). But I’d also love to see them get more development and have a bigger part, but which how Gilded ended I don’t think it’ll happen in Cursed. Serilda is pretty stuck in the castle lmao. I have nothing specific to say about them rn because there’s not much to say, other than ✨women✨.

Onto the gods! So to start off, I was actually so happy every time the gods were mentioned because of they/them pronouns. We don’t get a real confirmation on how exactly the gods identify, which makes sense because it’s medieval times and they didn’t really have labels, or at least the ones we use today. But from the conversation Serilda has with the kids, I’d guess they would be non-binary or genderfluid. It doesn’t really matter anyway but I like thinking.

Anyway! They worship non-binary gods! Amazing! I love Serilda’s conversation with the kids about gender roles, because it’s the first time Marissa has really touched on gender and society’s perception of gender, and I think it was done well. They know how their gods identify and don’t argue with it, and Serilda is teaching the kids to be accepting of people no matter their gender.

That said, it would have been nice to see some main characters fuck around with gender. This is more nitpicky than anything, because I do think for a first try at trans rep, it was pretty decent. But when you have a society that worships genderless gods, why are there still gender roles? If their gods are such a big part of their life, why are people strictly girls or boys? It would have been nice to see Serilda or Gild, the two characters most connected to the gods (there’s also the Dark Ones but idk what they are and Serilda and Gild are definitely human lmao), fuck around with gender. Gild already breaks a stereotype with his spinning, I think, anyway. Idk that but is more nitpicky than anything but I just think when your gods are non-binary, society’s perception of gender will be different.

And that’s my review of queer rep in Gilded! Overall, I thought it was better than her other book(s) (Renegades is the only I remember with canonical rep), though she has a lot of improvements to make.

[theboyzuniverse]

Jealous?

Request: Your smuts are great. Can I request a Jacob one? That boy is soft yet so sexy.

Content: Jealous sex, a little rough but not really.

You excitedly waited in anticipation as your best friend Kevin starts singing his part. You missed him so much as he had gone home to Canada for a month, and you barely had time to even text each other during his vacation. Kevin's voice really was beautiful. Of course your boyfriend Jacob would always be your favorite singer, but Kevin's own voice came a close second.

Kevin makes eye-contact with you as he sings, and you smile back cheering them on. The next thing you know you're locking eyes with Jacob who looks sinfully hot as he danced. You loved the duality of his persona on stage and the way he was actually the softest person you know as he got off the stage. Your heart skips a beat as he smirks, you were all for sexy on stage Jacob.

"So how was it?" Kevin asks you excitedly as you meet them backstage.

"Amazing, as usual." You smile and give him a hug.

"We have a lot to catch up on," He tells you as you nod excitedly. "But right now I'm exhausted so I'll actually see you later."

Kevin gives you another hug as he's about to leave.

"Okay okay, can I finally get a hug from my girlfriend?"

Jacob walks towards you with the softest smile that was enough to melt away any evil in the world.

"You were perfect!" you tell him before he can ask you about the performance and he just laughs.

"I gotta get changed and meet some people, do you mind waiting at home? I'll come home, clean up, and we can go out for dinner or something."

"Or we can order in."

He smiles again and gives you a peck. Jacob knows you love going out, and even if he loves staying in he always goes out of his way to do the things you love. This time you wanted to do what he wanted, which is stay home and cuddle, because this man actually spoils you way too much. Of course he never expects anything back as long as you were happy, but you can't help wanting to take the things he liked to do in consideration. Dating someone so opposite to you wasn't always easy, but compromising to what the other liked to do helped you get closer and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yes, we can absolutely do that, I'll see you at home."

So you go back to the apartment where Hyunjae and Juyeon also live. The boys now lived in separate apartments shared with their respective roommates they had while they lived in a dorm. You hoped a little that the other boys wouldn't stay home so that you and Jacob could have some alone-time together. Your phone rings as soon as you settle down on the sofa.

"Y/N!"

Kevin waves at you through the screen with a face mask on, and you laugh at him.

"Can't fall asleep again?" You ask him.

"You know it," He replies, and starts playing a Beyonce music in the background. Kevin and his never-ending love for all things Beyonce.

"So how was the family?"

"First thing, it wasn't as crazy as I expected it to be..."

He starts going on a rant about the clash between families. His older sister had gotten married, causing some of their family to fly over from Korea to Canada. A lot of people coming together had caused a lot of drama.

"...but the important thing was like, I did get to sing for her and choose the song though there was a lot of protest. I went crazy at the after-party, that was fun."

"Oh gosh... You didn't."

"Oh yes I did, Kevin went wild baby!"

Then he got up and started twerking like the mess he is, making you laugh and wheeze when a very confused Eric saw him. You started to calm down when Jacob arrived home, he looked a little tired.

"Hey Kev," He said emotionlessly to the screen. "I'll go clean up, I'll be right back."

Jacob gives you a peck and goes to clean up.

"He must be really tired," Kevin commented. "I'll leave you guys alone now, call you later?"

"Yeah yeah,"

"Love you," Kevin pouts his lips. Sometimes you wonder why you're even friends.

"Love you too, Kev."

You hang up and go to Jacob's room, he was still in the shower. The room was dark except for some fairy lights you got for him. It was pretty and calming, and the warm yellow light had reminded you of Jacob's warmth, that was why you had bought it for him. You freeze in your spot when you see Jacob coming out from the bathroom, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, making you feel all sorts of things. This man's duality constantly keeps you on your feet. He immediately notices you staring and starts moving towards you.

"So you're finally done talking to him?"

You're flustered and nervous at his words, and the close proximity of where he was standing. He sounded jealous but you were confused, it wasn't like Jacob to be jealous.

"Y-yeah," You finally replied after a short pause.

He leans in for a kiss but instead of being soft and pulling you in by the waist as he usually did, he corners you and pins you to the wall. The kiss was already deep and rough as soon as he started, no usual build up.

Jacob pulled away so you both could catch your breath he looked at you straight in the eyes. His stare sent a chill down your spine, it scared you a little yet it was thrilling and exciting. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

"Do you do this on purpose?" He asked, slightly clenching.

You knew exactly what he was talking about but you couldn't help yourself.

"Do what?"

"Always try to make me f***ing jealous."

You were shocked at him actually cussing.

"I-"

He cuts you off with another kiss.

"You know, exactly, what you're doing," He says between kisses, and starts getting rougher.

Jacob removes his lips from yours only to attach them to your neck again. Extending your neck to give him more access came way too naturally for you, and before you knew it he snaked an arm around your waist and one reached into your shirt. While leaving a few more hickeys on your neck, he squeezes your nipples a little and with the sudden sensation you let out a little moan which makes him smirk.

"I'm gonna have to teach you that I'm the only one who can make you feel this way,"

His tone is different, his eyes look different. The man you were looking at had little traces of the soft Jacob that you knew, and for some reason it was turning you on. He looked hot as hell, and you found yourself feeling a little nervous. It wasn't like you haven't had sex with him before, but this side of Jacob was new. He looked incredibly sexy, and you actually liked it.

"Already very wet for me I see,"

Jacob lays you down on the bed as he reaches inside your skirt and palms you over your panties making you squirm a little. Then he takes out his hands making you frown, disappointed because it had felt good.

"Don't squirm," He commands you.

"Yes,"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jacob."

He removes your shirt, and you remove your bra as he works on your skirt. Then before you can brace yourself he inserts a finger inside you making you gasp. He slowly pumps his hand and goes faster as you start bucking your hips to match his pace. You were so turned on you felt like you would come easily, and he knew it. You thought he would stop before you orgasmed but he doesn't stop even as you start clenching around him and reach your orgasm.

"Good girl," He kisses your lips again, "But we're not done."

You stare at him, it was the first time you two were going immediately for seconds. Then you realize he hasn't even removed his towel yet, and you gasp a little when he does, he was so hard. He positions himself at your entrance and thrusts into you, not giving you time to really adjust. It hurts the first two times mostly because you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you start feeling really good again.

Jacob clasps his hands with yours pushing them into the sheets as his thrusts become faster. You try to meet his thrusts but every time he hits your sweet spot you melt into the pleasure he was giving you, it sent you into a kind of bliss that only he alone could make you feel. He kisses you and immediately stops when you start clenching around him again. You whine in protest when he pulls out.

"Turn around," He commands.

You comply, immediately wanting more as soon as possible. He immediately slides into you again with no pause, one hand on your hips and one slightly pulling at your hair. You moan again surprised at how good it all felt, you usually wanted to be able to see him at all times when you were having sex.

After a few more thrusts Jacob lets go of your hair and reaches down to rub your clit which sends you into overdrive. You start clenching around him again, this time he doesn't stop and you reach your climax for the second time that night. He keeps at it a few more times as he also reaches his high, and his thrusts become sloppy as you both finish riding out your orgasms. He pulls out and turns you around to kiss you.

"You know I'm the only one who can make you feel this way right?"

"You're the only one who can make me feel this way," You confirm.

He smiles, and your soft Jacob is back. Lying down next to you he pulls you into his arms kissing your forehead.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, but you were kinda hot." He blushes a little at your remark.

Yup, your boyfriend was back.

"Maybe he can show up from time to time."

"Definitely," You agree.

The both of you barely manage to get up and wash up a little before you fall asleep. You were completely tired and worn out.

The next day you wake up to Jacob's kisses on your cheeks and you smile. You think about the night before and become slightly distracted. Seriously? In the morning? You scold yourself. However, Jacob seemed to have the same idea as he rolled on top of you and kissed you, then slightly grinding himself on you. You moan a little as he does so. You don't know whether its because it was morning but you felt like you could almost come immediately as he keeps grinding on to you. The friction of thin clothes that separated you made it feel so good.

"I'm almost there," He half-whispered.

You put your hands on his arms and dig into them.

"Me too," You mumbled back as you both almost immediately reached your high.

You were surprised that this could happen just by grinding on each other.

"We better get up," Jacob tells you. "I smell breakfast."

Neither of you bother to wash up first and head straight to the Kitchen where Hyunjae and Juyeon are eating breakfast. They both stare at you.

"What?" You ask taking a bite of the bacon.

"So first thing in the morning huh?" Juyeon teased as Jacob almost chokes on his cereal.