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icanseethefuture333 · 5 days

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Asteroid Kitty (9563): your kitten like charm 🐈‍⬛

Asteroid kitty represents the duality of a person, it’s how people are seen as sexy and cute. Asteroid kitty can also show how mischievous or promiscuous a person can be towards their prey, especially when it comes to women using their feminine charm to get what they want.

“I’m the type of girl you wanna chew all of my bubblegum

I’m the type of girl you wanna take to ya mama house”

Kitty in the signs/houses:

Aries Kitty / in the 1st house

Aries Kitty / in the 1st house people are the embodiment of “cat pretty”, their eyes are often shaped like a feline’s, and they are I nown for being a leader. They don’t like to follow the rules and could be seen as rebellious by people. Kitty 1st housers may also hate having people in their personal space but could lack a sense of respect for others. When in a relationship, they see what belongs to their partner’s as theirs, and wouldn’t understand why they don’t want to share. They could also be drawn to cats and animals prints in general. These kittens like to play hard to get and enjoy playful pushing/smacking on the arm as a form of flirtation. If they were a cat, they would believe they are the master and their owner was their servant, similar to those wirehair cats. They are only affectionate with the people they care about and can look at you as if you’re crazy if you act like you know them. These kittens have an infectious laughter as well and their voice sounds like purring to the ears. They are also athletic and look damn good in their workout clothes. They can pick up dudes at the gym and they often find people trying to help them whenever they are lifting weights.

Taurus Kitty/in the 2nd house

Taurus Kitty / in the 2nd house people prioritize financial security and success over the approval of others. These kittens value comfort and stability, they could often take naps and be seen as “lazy”. They might also carry weight more than others or have a “fat cat” 👀. Taurus Kitty 2nd housers charm is their ability to make their home and their style fancy on a budget. If they were a cat, they’d be the fluffy white Persian ones with the diamond collar. These kittens love luxury and being pampered. These are the type of people who grew up spoiled by their family. In a relationship, they are the type to be given money for spa days and so they can get their claws sharpened. They are also stubborn when it comes to arguments but for others their temper can be seen as sexually enticing. Romantic suitors feel compelled to give them their money and assets. Touch is also a big turn on for them and being touched by them always feels so sensual. They are high maintenance and lack patience when it comes to other people’s ignorance.

Gemini Kitty / in the 3rd house

Ohhh what chatterboxes! These kittens are very vocal and outspoken, but their way of communicating is very endearing! The way Gemini Kitty / in the 3rd house people talk is so adorable, when they have a crush on someone they can be very cheeky, and like to play a game of “cat and mouse” with their romantic interest. If they were a cat, they’d be a Siamese cat 🗣️! They are also very observant and attentive to details, if you do something that they don’t like, then they get the ick immediately. They are also very hot and cold, they hate when people are constantly in their face and need to have their alone time. Gemini Kitty 3rd housers need mental stimulation and have to be intellectually engaged. They are bold when it comes to saying dirty things and can be very vocal in the bedroom.

Cancer Kitty / in the 4th house

Cancer Kitty / in the 4th house people are attuned to people’s emotions and are sensitive to their surroundings. They could be described as empathetic and homebodies. People see them as cute and loving, they could often be babied by people, even as they get older in age. These kittens are classy in the streets and a freak in the sheets, they could play a more submissive role in the bedroom. Cancer Kitty 4th housers are known for their glowing skin, sweet scent, and docile nature. They like to be nurturing towards their loved ones and may cry with them when upset. If they were a cat, they’d be a exotic shorthair 🧸. They are viewed as the girl/boy next door and some people dream of marrying them. People hate seeing them sad and would do anything to make them happy again, they could manipulate others’ emotions if they wanted and whenever they’re in trouble, they get away with it because of their innocent demeanor.

Leo Kitty in the 5th house

The definition of mischief! Leo Kitty 5th house people are playful and vivacious, they love to have fun! You can find them at a party dancing or playing video games on a Saturday night. These are the kittens that enjoy laser tag, they like anything bright and shiny. If they were a cat, they would be an orange cat 🐈 ! People could find their energetic personality uplifting and are appreciative of their positive attitude. They are optimistic when it comes to their goals and they believe in having a team spirit. Leo Kitty 5th housers could be loved by children and animals, they see them as a big kid as well. They might be the youngest of their family or was that child who was a “busy body”, always wanting to go outside. When in a relationship, they love physical touch and quality time, they just won’t get off their partners lol. They could also have a high sex drive and are always excited to try something new, they might even want to try something silly like spanking their partner’s butt when they are caught off guard.

Kitty in Virgo/6th house

Virgo / Kitty in the 6th house people require more care than others. They could often be prone to sickness and when they are feeling under the weather, people wish to tend to their every need. Self care is an important part of their daily routine, so you can catch them doing their yoga routine or doing skincare. They could also be allergic to pets as well even though they might want one to keep them company. Virgo / Kitty 6th housers can be quite critical to cheap materials and are picky to certain foods, they have a refined palette. If they were a cat, they’d be a Russian blue. Hygiene is important to them and they are often praised for their well kept appearance (“pussy tight pussy clean pussy fresh”). When in a relationship, they are more shy and prefer to show their love through acts of services. In order to feel comfortable sexually, they could need lots of foreplay and require a partner that has patience, it takes a while for these people to get in the mood. Lying on the green grass underneath the warm sun could be healing for these kittens. Being in nature allows them to unwind and release stress.

Libra Kitty / in the 7th house

Popular and pretty! Libra Kitty / In the 7th house people are admired by their peers and often attract attention without even trying. They have many romantic suitors and they like getting what they want. People could often be jealous of them because of how well liked they are. They could have a reputation of being a “home wrecker” but they don’t see it that way. They feel if the home was never secure in the first place, then it wasn’t their fault someone chased after them lol. Libra Kitty 7th housers can be superficial and most of their attraction is based on physical appearance. These kittens also value balance and have a steady workload. If they were a cat, they’d be a ragdoll. In the bedroom, they are likely to be a switch and enjoy giving and receiving. These people like to see their partner’s face so missionary or cowgirl would be their favorite position, as well as 69 for fairness.

Scorpio Kitty / in the 8th house

What mysterious little creatures. Scorpio Kitty / In the 8th house could prefer to be alone and dislike being forced to socialize. These kittens are often misunderstood by others and might have been outcasted in their youth. They go wherever they please and look good doing it. Scorpio Kitty 8th housers may be drawn to the dark and prefer taking walks out at night, they also wear a lot of black. If they were a cat, they’d be a Bombay cat 🐈‍⬛. When they are attracted to someone, they ooze sensuality and are very alluring without even trying, their mannerisms as well are attractive to people. These people could have supernatural experiences and might be highly intuitive as well. In their family dynamics, they could be protective of others and can sense danger before it happens. In the bedroom, they are flexible and able to place themselves in all types of positions. They enjoy the darker aspects of foreplay such as roughhousing, shibari, whips, and bdsm. Their goal during sex is to claim their partner as theirs, expect love bites and scratch marks from these felines.

Sagittarius Kitty / In the 9th house

These are the alley cats who have seen and experienced a lot of things. Sagittarius Kitty / in the 9th house people are wise and knowledge of various topics. To other people they could consider them a “know it all” and mature beyond their years, they might feel inferior to them when engaging in a conversation. These people enjoy adventure and freedom, they would be a stray cat that is known and loved by all in their neighborhood. These kittens would most likely have multiple homes and don’t like being tied down to one place. They enjoy a good sense of humor and are attracted to someone who is intelligent, when a person matches their energy that turns them on even more. In the bedroom, they like to are open to new experiences and wish to try different things, so they are likely to mess around with sex toys. Sagittarius Kitty 9th housers could value their education as well and may be a “teacher’s pet”. If they were a cat, they’d be a Bengal cat. Within their family, these people would be the carefree older sibling who has crazy stories of parties and drinking, they are mostly likely to remain single and would not want to get married. They spend their time traveling and enjoying different cuisines.

Capricorn Kitty / In the 10th house

Capricorn Kitty / in the 10th house are focused , responsible, and determined. They have a sharp wit and don’t tolerate nonsense. These kittens are often annoyed with people’s incompetence and it puts them in a bad mood when things are not handled properly. They admire individuals with a good work ethic and have a good head on their shoulder. It’s a major turn on for them when a partner is able to take the role of a provider and make them feel secure in a relationship. These kittens are the type to receive push presents and don’t accept anything less than they are worth. They prefer stability and assets over romantic infatuation. Capricorn Kitty / 10th housers are likely to be “trophy wives” and “wags” (wives and girlfriends of athletes). In the bedroom, they assert their dominance only as a form of punishment or a way to relieve stress. In general, they can be a brat and desire a partner that can tame them. They are very opinionated and will let you know if the sex was bad or not. Their style consists of expensive jewelry and casual business attire. If they were a cat, they’d be an Egyptian Mau.

Aquarius Kitty / In the 11th house

Aquarius Kitty / In the 11th house people catch on quickly to things and have a keen intellect. They are smart when it comes to technology and could have a solid social media following. Their pets would also be popular on social media or they could make money from them (E.G: placing them in pageants or competitions). They do well in modeling campaigns and could have been seen in commercials and catalogs. Their sense of fashion is unique and they could be referred to as a “trendsetter”. Aquarius Kitty / 11th housers are able to find sexual and romantic partners quite easily thanks to dating apps or having good luck when it comes to sliding in people’s DMs. They also enjoy cybersex, either on FaceTime or sending sexy texts to their crush. Their online presence is considered tempting and alluring. They could post pictures of themselves in risqué positions or thirst traps are often their go to on their story. I wouldn’t be surprised if they make money from having an OnlyFans as well. When it comes to relationships, they are most likely to prefer being single and value their freedom. The downside is people try to trap these kittens and try to turn them into a housewife (or spouse) when they know they are very independent and rebellious.

Pisces Kitty / In the 12th house

What gentle beings. Pisces Kitty / In The 12th house people have a healing presence and are in tuned with their senses. They could have a spiritual connection to cats and often receive signs from them. They are highly intuitive and have cat like reflexes, they can predict things before it even comes true. If they were a cat, they’d be a blue abyssian. They enjoy reading books, meditation, and anything that allows them a peace of mind. Pisces Kitty / 12th housers are likely to smoke weed or use some type of psychedelics. These are girls at Coachella that dress whimsical and colorful and just there to vibe and have a good time. These kittens believe in manifestation and are the type to leave crystals in their crush’s car/home. They believe they can seduce people with their mind and aura (which is honestly true). In the bedroom, they prefer to use as sex as an act of healing and creating a spiritual bond. They could also be in non traditional relationships and may be open to polyamorous relationships. They might have even had sex with more than one person at a time.

#astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #kitty asteroid #asteroid Kitty #asteroids #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #witch #witchcraft #law of assumption #law of attraction #manifest #manifestation #self concept #18+ astrology

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peppertoastuniverse · 3 months

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pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.2)

Part 1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ ☆ The Theory of Relativity by LuckyGh0st [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 11/13 chapters ] #gojo just loves you so much in this one You've lived your life without purpose. It's always been simplicity - sugar, flour, butter, mix, sugar, flour, butter, mix, simplicity, stability.

Everything changes when you find a man, bloody and beaten half to death, laying discarded in the snow.

or, Gojo Satoru is transported into a world where he doesn't exist, where you stand to change the course of everything with nothing but a kind smile and a generous hand.

☆ beyond the unending night by @stellamancer [AO3/tumblr: long one shot] [status: completed ] #the intensity of this fic omg

it is october 31, 2018— halloween in shibuya.

and you are trapped.

(you are unfortunate enough to be trapped in shibuya on october 31, 2018 in more ways in one. after many trials and many errors, you come to the conclusion the only way out is seeking out the man named satoru gojo.)

☆ you are not a god (just the man i love) by haveuseenthis [AO3 ] [status: completed ◦ 2/2 chapters] [slowburn] [tw!ptsd] [friends to lovers] #SUPER SOFT SATORU

they said gojo satoru was a god. unreachable. faraway. meant to be alone. but you knew better.

☆symptoms and causes by @lostfracturess [AO3/tumblr] [status: on going ◦ collection of fics 13/?] [professor gojo x med student reader] [smut!] #pep is OBSESSED wit this AU he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

☆out of the shadows by @extralively [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed ◦ 50/50 chapters + extras! ] [slow burn] [eventual smut!] [original female character] #pep's fav OC character #the CHEMISTRY?

No one had expected Gojo Satoru to form a friendship with the unknown girl that joined school in the same year he did. Not even Gojo Satoru, or Yura herself, especially considering he’d been an asshole to her the first time they met. A complicated friendship was born, one that would last years to come no matter how many headaches the white haired menace would give her – he was like gum in your hair, she mused, too much work to cut it out so why even bother trying?

☆ gods, monsters, monkeys by yuzudrops [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 23/23 chapters + extras!] [SUPER slowburn] [eventual smut!] [original female character] [student gojo!teacher reader (but they get together like 10 YEARS after)] [angst] #pep binged this so hard #complex/strong oc

“I thought it’d be you, if I’m being honest.” “It’d be me who what?” “Who’d go mad. Who’d go on a killing spree. Who’d just wake up one day and decide none of us are worth anything.” “Damn, sensei. Didn’t think you thought so little of yourself.” Didn’t think you thought so little of me simmers beneath. She wonders how Gojou, of all people, knows which lines can’t be crossed when his entire Cursed Technique is full of asymptotes.

A grossly under-qualified graduate of Jujutsu High is hired to teach a class of Special Grades. They learn there is more to power than strength. It doesn't end well.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

bonus! satosugu!

☆ to feel is to love by cj_ackerman [AO3: 10/10 chapters] [status: completed] [satoru x suguru] [tw!ptsd] [college!AU] #this was so so so cute #soft sugu x soft toru

In another universe, instead of his eyes being the most powerful asset, Satoru is blind. Because of this, he’s mostly alone, unable to be the star child his high-ranking parents wanted him to be.

It’s Suguru Geto that makes him believe he deserves to be loved, and that he is seen. Suguru learns that to feel, is to love.

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hotchfiles · 5 months

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↪ QUIS UT DEUS? ─ chapter one.

AN IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI INSTALLMENT

pairing: hotch x fem!consultant!reader. summary: murders committed using catholic symbology gets emily to convince hotch it's time to ask for an expert. luckily for you, you're the expert. content warnings: canon typical violence. religious themes. spoilers to season 4. mature themes. word count: 1.5K

In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…

“Amen.” If you weren’t paying attention and side eyeing him at that exact moment, you might’ve lost the way his lips moved following the ritual, no word actually leaving his mouth.

The black haired man didn’t look too comfortable, but didn’t look out of place either, he knew the cues, he spoke the words on automatic it seemed. It amused you to observe people’s behavior on holy grounds, that was part of the reason you asked to meet in silver spring.

“Catholic, Mr. Hotchner?” Your question is met with a low scoff, the type only those with a bad bad history with the church gave you. “That much, huh?”

“My parents were.” The answer is simple and you think it might stop at that, but he shakes his head and scoffs again. “I was an altar boy for years before I left for boarding school.” You nod.

“Ah. I've met some of you in my research.” Some of you. Church babies, altar boys. Spoon fed the bible from birth while watching everyone around sin. Sin becoming a term to reflect on what they hated.

“And you? Catholic?”

“Oh no. Never been.” You don’t explain much, aware Emily probably told him of your time in Rome, where the two of you met. “Your UnSub is though. Either devoted to Saint Michael or knows enough about his roles to look like one.” You note, being reminded of the pictures Emily sent you, big stab wounds, a small scale tipped to one side, the words Hebrews 9:22 written in blood.

Hotchner doesn’t reply, making a mental reminder of the new information, he looks around the place as you both leave the church and it hits him, Silver Spring’s St. Michael the Archangel parish, the church you chose as a meeting place.

He wouldn’t usually accept consultation for cases, especially from outsiders. And to be fair, the BAU doesn’t usually need any, Reid alone has more knowledge than anyone Hotch has ever met, and despite the humbleness he tends to show, Hotch himself can take care of the general book knowledge if Reid doesn’t step up to it. But he trusted Emily, and Emily spoke more highly of you than of anyone. Honestly, he was also trying to make amends after not having her back during the Matthew case they had not long before.

“She's in town giving lectures, it’s an asset we have easy access to, so why not use it?” Were her final and most convincing words before Hotch nodded in agreement, watching Emily make the call that led to the meeting.

He thinks now, as he’s driving both of you to Quantico, that maybe Emily should’ve been the one here, his attempts to strike conversation falling flat as you don’t even remember the last time you had to make small talk with someone, it felt awkward all of a sudden, as if you were on a date.

“I'm so sorry, I'm not too good with… People.” You blurt out after a long minute of silence, your neck suddenly warm from embarrassment.

Hotch side eyes you, brows lifted in confusion. You seemed much less confident in the car now than what you showed him of you minutes before back at the church. He figures you felt confident talking about your area of expertise and that he could relate to easily. “Did you notice anything else by the pictures Emily sent you?”

The switch of topic makes you sigh loudly in relief and you mentally thank him for brushing your silliness off. “He’s using different pieces of catholic dogma and putting it together, but most of the symbology eludes to Michael, the stabbing looks like a sword, the tipped scale indicates judgment, the verse he chose doesn’t cite Michael but talks about sins being forgiven by the shedding of blood… He’s the judge and executioner of his victims.” You try not to sound excited as you ramble on, it’s a terrible thing to witness, the pictures were grotesque and would’ve made you sick on a normal day, but the cherry picking of symbols the murderer seemed to make fascinated you.

“So you believe it’s a man?”

“Oh! I–I don’t know? I just assumed… Is that misogynistic?” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but it’s loud enough to make him chuckle and you look at him quickly to make sure it’s not mean spirited.

It’s definitely not. But it is amusing from a profiler perspective, he’s so used to defining serials’ genders by their crimes he hasn’t thought about misogyny being a factor to those assumptions in a long time.

“Brutality suggests male. But posing looks remorseful, theatrical…” His grip on the wheel tightens, two victims by now, feet crossed, arms wide open.

“If there were more allusions to the crucifixion, yeah, but I–” You take your phone out to look at the pictures once more, an attempt to seem less abstract in what you’re about to say. “No crown, no nails, this isn’t about Christ, it’s about punishment–I mean, I think.” You’re not usually self conscious about your knowledge but inferring characteristics and desires to someone by looking at a crime scene was not your specialty.

“To further point they were judged and executed…” Hotch nods, understanding where your line of thought is going and completing it immediately, not leaving you much time to doubt yourself.

“A very shameful execution.”

You both spend the short ride from Silver Springs to Quantico going over the symbology present, you tried to help here and there with the associations of what you saw to who could’ve done it, even though that was not what you were called in for. Strangely enough—for him at least, Hotch didn’t seem to mind your guesses, they were educated ones.

And it was interesting to hear someone speak with such passion about religious aspects without any of the fundamentalism. It was definitely something he wasn’t used to.

“Mi amore!” Are the first words you hear as you enter the famous bullpen from Emily’s texts, her arms surrounding you in a tight warm hug you haven’t felt in years—it hits you then how long has it been. You weren’t able to come and mourn Matthew with her, his parents weren’t fond of you either (Lord almighty, you didn’t even go to church with them!) and you were busy with your lectures.

“Hey troublemaker, how’s it going?” Your question is muffled in the hug, your hands clasping together behind her back.

The reunion doesn’t last long, curious eyes set on you two and a rather impatient Hotch leading the way to what you learned was the conference room.

The briefing room. The round table. Emily told you about it when she first got into the BAU.

You end up sitting between Emily and who you would bet was Spencer—there’s this sweet kid working with us, he’s super smart, annoyingly smart, but so sweet, he reminds of Matty when we were teens—the lanky boy was the only one with what seemed like naivety enough in his eyes to be the one Emily mentioned back then.

Aaron sat in front of you almost, serious, stern, very different from the few chuckles you got from him in the car. This was unit chief Hotchner, the subtle difference was fascinating.

“Alright, as we know, DC is in trouble, second murder in three weeks.” blonde and gorgeous, you believed that was JJ, there had been no time for introductions, all you could do was try to remember the e-mails and few phone calls you shared with Emily the past years. “Richard Beckett, married, no kids, 27. He works for his father's car dealership.”

Pictures show up on the screen, showing the man when he was alive. It’s a punch to your gut, just minutes before you were fascinated by the way this real person was murdered. You’re glad you had a light breakfast by the way your stomach turns.

“Monica Dawson, divorced, no kids, 53. She’s a counselor at a local school.” The woman continues speaking, with more pictures on the screen. And then pictures of their deaths, side by side. The fascination is completely extinguished then. “Both were stabbed countless times with a large blade. Left in abandoned warehouses posed in a cross position, a tipped scale on their side. Both naked. Both were heavily drugged.”

“They didn’t have kids, is that a coincidence?” You hear Emily speak up and suddenly you can see all their brains working.

“Could that be the linking between them? The victimology is all over the place.” Derek. Oh. You’ve heard of Derek. You’ve seen pictures of Derek. He needs no introduction.

“Reid, Morgan, go talk to the first victim’s widow. Rossi, JJ, Ms. Dawson’s ex-husband can give us insight on her life. Emily and us—” He gives you a look and you understand he means you, nodding in reply. “Will head to the DC police precinct.” The way Hotch gives orders is effortless, not only his job but his vocation.

Everyone listens and agrees quickly, moving and leaving the table, even Emily is fast on her feet, even though she won’t leave without you and him. You stay still, stiff, eyes glued to the screen.

“Are you alright?” His voice is soft, laced with worry, genuine worry. You didn’t even notice he had stayed behind, but you nod again at Hotch, a question burning at the tip of your tongue.

“Do you still believe in God, Mr. Hotchner?”

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario #flari: in nomine patris #lari writes sometimes

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meowhara · 11 months

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Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : abuse, mistreatment, usage of bad languages, death, kidnapping

synopsis : In a world where hybrids are becoming a common thing. Scientists sells their experiments for a very high price in auctions, making it possible for anyone with such kind of money to own a hybrid or even more

author's note : OMG! this will be my very first fanfic ever. I hope y'all enjoy this little fanfic I made in such a very short time. I'm so so sorry if there's anything wrong with my grammars or maybe you got confused by how I write things in general. English isn't my first language :)

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

Experimenting with human beings are normal by now all around the world, making hybrids one of the most expensive and valuable assets. They're usually sold with a very high price in auctions, anyone who's able to lay a hand on those hybrids must be some very crazy rich and lucky people.

You're those kind of fine breed, sold for an unbelievably high price. But sadly luck wasn't on your side due to how irresponsible your new owner is. He never took care of you like how people should took care of hybrids. He abandoned you, feeding you poorly, using you only for your small and fragile body. Treating you like an animal and make you do his daily chores such as cooking, cleaning, and even doing his laundry. But you never complain, there's nothing you can do and nowhere to escape.

You don't even know how the hell he was able to purchase you from the auction since he doesn't even look like a wealthy man at all. Who's job is only to sell and purchase drugs from here and there then spend shit ton of money for women and other useless things. He woke up late at the day just to hurt you then leave and came back late at night. Sometimes he didn't even bother to come back home, leaving you hungry and lonely inside his small and packed house in the middle of nowhere.

For the past moths he has been stealing drugs from Mafia!Miguel. Miguel tried to track him down for months without any avail and lost him every single time. After learning your owner's pattern for months, he's finally able to caught him off guard.

But the bastard ran back home and hide just before Miguel catch him. Your owner ran back home and locked the doors, telling you to shut the fuck up if anyone come over to look for him and to not tell his whereabouts.

Miguel is one step ahead this time and he's able to track your owner's house. He then banged on the door which made you jumped in surprise. "Open the damn door, you bastard! I know you're inside." He shouted as he kept banging on the door with his men following and standing by behind him, guns in their hands.

Innocently, you walk over the door and open the door slightly ajar and peeked outside just to met his eyes. Miguel was shocked when his eyes met with your big vulnerable eyes and fluffy bunny ears, looking almost as if you're pleading with a small pout on your face. "Yes?" You said shyly with shaky voice. Miguel looks back at his men in confusion then look back at you. "Hello, little one. Is there anyone inside?" He asked, trying to be less intimidating and as friendly as possible in order not to scare you. You hesitated to answer but you shook your head anyway, since it's seems like the only safe answer to give. He examines your beautiful and small figure from head to toe just to find bruises everywhere then to your dirty clothes that you're wearing. You look up at him with tired eyes and flat expression, making you look like a broken doll.

Miguel is not buying your obvious lie. "Are you sure? You look... Tired. Are you okay?" He asked again. You just nod and rush to close the door but Miguel stopped you from doing so. He grabbed on the door and push it back open, making you stumbling back from the force. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. But I need to take a look inside, okay?" He gave signals to his men to search the house for your owner.

He didn't expect you to panic and starts shouting at him "No! Please! Master will get mad." You said as your eyes starts to well in tears, "He'll hit me and lock me up in the basement again..." You said while sobbing and pulling on his sleeve. Miguel can feel his heart breaking into pieces from how adorably you cried in front of him. As he wanted to hug you and calm you down, his men came back and drags your owner with them. He got a black eye on his right eye due to a hard blow given by Miguel's men right on his face when he tried to run away. They throw him on the floor to force him to get on his knees in front of Miguel.

When your eyes met his you ran towards your master in worry. "Master! Are you okay?" You got on your knees to check on him, even if he's a very cruel and irresponsible master you can't help but feel worried of him getting hurt. But instead of getting any answer back from him, he gave you a very hard and strong punch on the face. You stumbled back in shock and whimpers in pain as you cover your face with your palms from the fear and pain. "You useless bitch! I told you not to let them in!" As he's about to hit you again, Miguel stepped forward to protect you and kick that bastard's stomach with full force in anger. He still couldn't believe that a little angle like you would care so much about a devil like him.

He groans in pain from Miguel's kick and Miguel turned to look at you as you bleed from your nose and cry on the floor. Your owner look up at Miguel then at you "Oh I see what this is all about now. You like her don't you? Fine then, take her away as a compensation. She is a very fine and expensive hybrid." He said with a low chuckle as he gave you a dirty look. "Use her as a cock sleeve or just do anything you like at her, let all of your anger out at her as if she's a punching bag. You won't ever hear a peep out of her mouth, she's well trained for that." Miguel can feel himself boiling in anger but his eyes won't leave your figure, no matter how hard he tried. The idea of a pretty thing like you used and abused by someone like him are just too much for him to even imagine.

Yes, he is indeed a cruel mafia leader. He killed and will kill anyone who got in his way without any remorse or hesitation and punish those who got on his nerves. But seeing how a pure little thing like you getting such a horrible treatment without you deserving any of it, made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach. He got too deep into his thought as he pull a gun out from his pocket without realizing and thinking it through then shot your owner right at his face as you watch the scene in front of you in horror.

The bastard died instantly, his body made a loud thud noise when it hit the floor and blood starts to stain the carpet underneath. Your eyes widened as tears streams down your cheek. Miguel then turned and walks towards you slowly but you stood up and ran away as fast as you can towards your master's bedroom and lock yourself while crying. His men look at Miguel, waiting for his next order. "I'll talk to her." He said with a loud sigh.

He starts knocking at the door, "Little one, please open the door. I won't hurt you I promise." You starts to panic "No go away! Leave me alone! You just killed my master!" You shouted back. Deep down you know that you should be glad that Miguel had killed your master but that makes you feel powerless, knowing that Miguel is capable of hurting anyone let alone killing them.

"I have to okay? He got on my nerves and worse, he hurt you." He spoke again from the other side of the door. "You know nothing about me!" Tears starts to fall even faster from your eyes as the image of your master's dead body kept playing in your head. "Just open this door so I don't need to force it open myself." He said, starting to get frustrated by your behavior.

You ignores him and sat down in the corner of the room, hoping that he'll just go away and leave you alone. He kept knocking at the door but you refused to open it for him. "Fine you won't open this door? I'll have to force it open then." He said before he starts banging harder and harder on the door, cracking it with each of his forcefull movements against the door.

You know very well from how massive he looks that he'll break down the door easily if he wants to. You starts glancing around the room to look for something to protect yourself just incase if Miguel is trying to hurt you. You've been in this room a thousand time when your master forced you to sleep with him but you're never allowed to open his closet or drawers even when you're told to clean his room for him.

Opening the nearest drawer, you starts rummaging to find something sharp to protect yourself. To your surprise you can feel your hand brushing against a hard and cold metal. You never knew your master hid a small gun in his bedroom this whole time but now you're glad he did. Just as you get your hand on the gun the door bursts open and you yelped in surprise. You then points the gun at Miguel "Don't come any closer! Or I'll— I'll shoot you." You said hesitantly.

Miguel look at the gun in your hand with a expressionless face then walks towards you. "I— I said go away!" A step closer from Miguel means a step back from you. But he kept walking closer and ignoring the fact that you have a gun in your hands. Your back hit the wall, making it impossible for you to take another step back from him. He grabbed your hands and points the gun directly at his chest to challenge you. "Go on. Shoot me." He said menacingly. A shiver went down your spine as your hands clenches around the gun and hesitation floods your mind. You never hurt anyone before, how on earth are you going to shoot him?

Your eyes look up at him still with tears on display and your bunny ears tensed then pinned flat back behind you head in fear. Hands trembling badly as you pressed the gun deeper into his chest, not knowing what to do. "That's what I thought." He said before quickly ripped the gun from your hand easily then threw it away to the other side of the room.

You tried to run but he grabbed you wrist and threw you on the floor. "Stop making this harder on yourself." He said before crouching down to meet your eyes. "Please don't hurt me..." You begged while sobbing, hoping that he'll pity you. He just look at your face while caressing your cheek with his massive thumb. Making your face seems so much smaller compared to his hand. "To have such a pretty thing in front of me for free. How lucky of me." He continues to caress your face and admiring your beauty with the feeling of wanting to own you all to himself. Having you safe by his side in his mansion and to have you sleep by his side at night.

But his fantasy must be interrupted by his duty as a mafia leader. "Boss, it's Lyla." One of his men interrupted. "Tell her I'll be there in 10 minutes." He said with so much authority in his voice. "What about her?" His other man looked over at your vulnerable state. Your eyes are focused on Miguel, anticipating his next move. He cussed to himself and took out a syringe from his pocket. "W— what's that for?" You asked nervously. "This? Oh I bring these all the time incase if I need to take a pretty thing like you home." Miguel then cupped you face with one of his free hand and move your face to the side so he could inject your neck easier.

Your hand grabbed his hand, the one that's cupping your cheek. "I don't want this. Please just let me go." He ignores your plea and kissed your cheek softly. "Don't worry little thing, this will only hurt a little okay? Just obey and you'll be just fine." You shook your head but he injected you right away with the syringe. "Good girl." Your body starts to feel numb right away as tears continue to stream down your face. You rest your head against his chest for support. "Shhh that's it, just fall asleep for me like a good girl you are." He pulls you into a hug and starts caressing your hair this time. Your vision starts to blur as darkness starts to invade. Soon you're limp against his chest, breathing softly and peacefully.

He smiled and kissed your forehead before carrying you in his arms in a bridal style. "Let's get going, we don't want the cops to be here anytime soon." He said as he rushed towards his car with you in his arms and his men following behind him. He looked down at your unconscious form in his arms, "Sleep tight, little one."

#hybrid reader #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #yandere mafia #mafia fanfic #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #yandere #yandere miguel x reader

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e-m-ma-lmfao · 11 months

Note

Hi hii, I've seen your requests are open and I was wondering if I could request somewhat one-sided Astarion x reader/Tav/he catches feelings first kinda situation??? Pretty please, love your writing 🙏

Too Generous Too Kind

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : astarion has travelled by your side for weeks and it makes his stomach churn when he grows to trust you, the trust turns into something more and he feels even worse.

warnings : astarion's scars, reader is injured.

For weeks Astarion had been travelling by your side. And for weeks he was under the impression he was only using you to get to Baldur's Gate safely. You were a powerful ally, an asset to his plan of revenge.

He would stand by your side, of course, and watch your back as you had always watched his. But he couldn’t hold back how aggravating you were, you didn’t care whether he approved of your decisions or not. You made your own, walked your own street, and he was forced to follow it if he wanted to keep you around.

And for weeks he had watched you talk your way out of situations, or convince a trader to give you free supplies. A master with your words. He watched as you lied and manipulated, and it made his faith in you soar.

But then you would turn around and help a helpless child or a person that meant nothing to you, and his respect for you waivered. Why did they deserve any of your help? It’s not like they helped you in any way. And they definitely wouldn’t help you the same way you chose to help them if it were you stranded on the side of the road with no help. They would leave you, he was sure of it. He would, just like everyone had done to him, no one was deserving of your help if they had nothing to give you in return.

So constantly you would find yourself in front of him, as he yelled at you and glared down at you with fire burning behind his eyes. He was tired of wasting time with people who didn’t matter. “Must you stop to help every worthless person we find on the side of the road?” His voice is venomous and unimpressed. It’s not the first time he has made a complaint, and him continuing to be unacknowledged was becoming more and more irritating each time he tried.

“You’d regret saying that if it was you on the side of the road, and we left you to grovel in your own misery.” Your arms are crossed, disciplinary stare on your face like he’s a child. He hates it.

It’s not like anyone ever stopped to help him in the past.

Too generous. Too kind.

Sure it gave you allies, and more often than not they would reward you for your good deed. But still, you could’ve killed them and taken it from their cold, dead body. Or he could’ve pickpocketed them for you, no time wasted.

Astarion only feels his opinion change when your actions begin to affect him and not just the strangers you pass by through your travels.

Suddenly he feels himself growing overwhelmingly close to you. Close enough that he feels he’s safe to tell you about Cazador and the threat he may play in your life in the future, and in a moment of privacy, just you and him, he offers to show you the scars on your back. You're not sure what to say at first, you just stare and it makes his skin crawl with insecurity.

He shivers when your fingers meet his back to trace along the lines, “He did this?” He can only nod, embarrassed by this moment of transparency and weakness. God forbid he try to speak and all that comes out is a wobbly, pathetic cry where a snide comment laced with sarcasm should be.

You grab his shoulder to turn him around, holding both his hands in your own with a tightness that has his skin crawling in a different way. “I won’t let him hurt you again, we won’t, all of us, you'll never have to fight him alone. We’ll help you, no matter what,” Your thumbs swipe across the skin of his pale and shaky fingers and it sends heat up his cold arm, “I’ll help you.”

It’s so genuine and so sincere, it almost makes the air catch in his lungs.

His eyes widen, and he has to force himself to hide how grateful he is to hear the words leave your mouth. He hadn’t realized that he’d forgotten what it was like to feel safe. To have someone who cares for him so much that they would put their life in danger to protect him. You were always kind to the helpless and needy, he just never thought he would allow himself to fit that description again, especially not in front of you.

You barely know him. You barely know his story, you’ve only seen his scars once and briefly heard of his former master's cruelty. But you’re ready to lay your life down for his cause. For him. To protect him. He feels lighter, holding the weight of Cazadors power on two pairs of shoulders instead of his alone..

Too generous. Too kind.

For a while, he finds himself to be less annoyed by the way you stop to help. He doesn't mind as much when it inevitably slows the journey down. It still bothers him but finds it easier to manage when he sees the satisfactory smile you wear after. The sight almost makes a proud smile appear on his own face, smile lines subtly deepening before he wipes the evidence away.

You impress him, through it all. You hold your own while managing to deal with everyone else’s problems on your back, and while he hates the way you try to help everyone, he admires the way you handle it all.

Again his opinion changes when you reach Moonrise Towers. Whilst exploring, you meet a woman named Araj, a drow, who offers a potion of immense power in exchange for Astarions teeth sinking into her skin. The mere idea has you scoffing, the potion would be nice but you would never jeopardize Astarions freedom in exchange for something that would only benefit yourself.

But she pushes, even after Astarion declines. He is clearly uncomfortable and her continuous attempt to convince him has your blood boiling, face beginning to develop a red tinge from frustration.

“Excuse me if I’m mistaken but I’m sure I just heard him say no..”

“And I’m sure you can tell him to change his mind, he is yours, correct? I assume he follows your orders.” Your eyebrow raises at the suggestion that Astarion was anything but his own being. Your party is murmuring behind you, Karlach’s hand finding a place on your shoulder to tell you to calm down before things get out of hand.

Even Astarion feels himself becoming concerned for how this would pan out. He’d never seen you so angry. A part of him was touched that you could be so angry on his behalf. But the majority of his mind is conflicted on if he should step in before you rip this woman's head clean off her shoulders.

You feel your mouth open to shout at the drow in front of you but Astarions fingers slip within your own, squeezing in warning. Your mind clears a little, and you take a deep breath to calm your breathing. Karlach and Shadowheart stare at the scene in silence, but Karlach’s fingers give your shoulder another reassuring squeeze before slipping away.

“I don’t own him, if that’s what you're trying to imply. He’s his own person. Who can make his own decisions, and he said no. That’s the last I’ll hear of the matter.”

A vampire spawn, a slave to Cazador for so many years, suddenly with the ability to act on his own and think for himself. His heart swells. He can’t think of any other word to describe how he feels but grateful. But maybe something else is lingering deeper underneath? Whatever the feeling is, it clouds his mind and puts a weight on his chest.

Later at camp he dwells on it, it’s hard not to see how your tired eyes consistently meet him. What could you be thinking? He can’t stop focusing on the way you speak to everyone but him, and jealousy is beginning to fester around his tent. What did he do to make you ignore him? When you finally reach him to say goodnight, his jealousy from earlier returns and he wants to send you away, but he can’t.

“Thank you..” He’s cut you off before you can say goodnight and walk away from him, and you're stunned. His voice is soft, much softer then he wanted it to be, but he allows his tone to stay the same. Trust. Trusting you without realizing.

“For what exactly?”

“For what you did at Moonrise. You could’ve forced me to go through with that..but you didn’t,” Astarion feels his eyes soften, stomach turning, “And I’m grateful.”

He gets anxious in front of your eyes when you don’t say anything. But his body becomes lighter when your arms wrap around him. He is certain it’s not a hug for your own comfort, but for his. And going against every instinct in his body that tells him to push you away, he hugs you back, wrapping his arms around you..

“I want you to know I will never put you in a position where you don’t have free will. You control yourself, Astarion, I will never jeopardize your freedom for my own benefit. You're a member of my party..you're my friend. I could never do that to you.”

Friend? He couldn’t remember the last time he had someone to call a friend. If ever. But the words have him squeezing you closer to his body, face slipping into the crevice of your neck.

“I was worried you might’ve been mad at me for refusing her, you were ignoring me. I wasn’t sure what I had done..” His words pull at your heart, you hadn’t meant to make him feel that way..

“Astarion..”

“Hm?” He doesn’t move, he’s not sure if he wants to. Astarion is sure that he could hold you like this for as long as you would let him.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you.. I was actually deciding how I should apologize..”

“Apologize for what, dear?” He scoffs in your ear, he’s so close and the pet name flows with ease from his lips. If it were any other man you wouldn’t have noticed.

“For how I handled her today. I should’ve stayed calm. I just..I got so angry and she kept pushing and I was scared that she would do something to you..”

The feeling is back in his chest, heavy and heating his face. His arms tighten and it silences your rambling, “Don’t apologize for being angry. You did nothing wrong… I actually quite appreciate your anger on my behalf. You didn’t have to but I appreciate that you denied her. I was certain you were going to kill her.” A chuckle stumbles from his lips, breath heavy on your ear.

“I might’ve if you didn’t step in.” He pulls away from you, hands still resting on your arms, and disappointment fills your body.

Astarion feels it again when your eyes look up into his with comfort painted across your face, a jab at his heart, and he is certain. He’s smitten and he can’t help the way his eyes fill with adoration.

You wear a small smile on your face, filling him with comfort, but a sadness lingers in his mind. The fact is , you don’t feel the same and it causes his heart to become heavier. His hands fall from your arms, waving you off with a gentle goodnight before entering his tent. You stay standing in confusion, it sends your thoughts spiraling as you leave towards your own tent.

Too generous. Too kind.

The next few days he is dazed, distracted and it shows. He misses his shots, when you speak to him his mind is elsewhere and the words you deliver slip through his ears. Everyone is clearly annoyed.

But he cannot see it. He truly can’t see or hear anything, his thoughts are screaming at him about you. He cares for someone other than himself. He is depending on someone who is not himself. He’s worried for your well-being, and he knows you’d be better without him by your side. He’s a burden with his mission to defeat Cazador, and he thinks about leaving.

And he thinks about you again. Every time he draws his bow, the thought of losing you fills his head and his fingers slip, arrow flying with unfocused aim. You trip and his previously unattentive eyes fly to your body, catching your arm in his tight grip to keep you from falling. The only words he speaks are soft, “I’ve got you.” He doesn't wait for your acknowledgement before he slips back into his clouded mind.

He is unaware of his surroundings. He isn’t paying attention. Even when you’re fighting and he is tasked with shooting, he isn’t fully there.

But when a cry leaves your mouth, hand clutching your side where you’ve been stabbed, he suddenly sees all. He’s breathing heavily as he rushes to your side to hold his hand on your wound, putting pressure on it. “I’ve got you..I've got you. please..you're gonna be okay..”

His eyes don’t leave yours as Karlach lifts you. He holds your fingers in his own as she carries you to camp for the night. He doesn't leave your side , even after everyone has gone to sleep, and your eyes have closed he remains.

“Astarion?”

Eyes wide, he looks up tiredly from where his eyes were staring at your wound. “Oh..gods. I’m so sorry..” His forehead falls onto your thigh in a huff.

“W..what?” You let your hand fall onto his head, concerned and not fully awake yet.

“I’m so sorry..I..I let you get hurt. I was distracted and you got hurt because of me, my love.”

“Astarion, what are you talking about? What..” You wince as you try to sit up, Astarion lifting his head from your lap instantly when he hears the hiss leave your mouth.

He slips his fingers into your hand, squeezing tightly. “I..I couldn’t stop thinking..and I wasn’t paying attention. If I was..you never would’ve been hurt.”

His words would almost make you laugh if they weren’t so somber, “Astarion please..this is not your fault.”

“I knew this would happen..”

“What?”

“I’m only putting you in danger, being in this group, I’ll only be a burden on you. This will keep happening..”

Your heart sinks, “Astarion..”

“No..”, His eyes won't meet yours, “I can’t stay any longer. I need to find Cazador.” You open your mouth to speak but he already knows what you're about to say, “Without you.”

“No..no way!”

“Please..just..” His fingers squeeze around yours again, “I can’t keep hurting the person I love. I can’t do it..not to the only person who's ever allowed me to feel safe.”

“Astarion..” You place your other hand over his, sitting up straighter to put your face in his, “If you think for a minute that you can get away with telling me you love me, just to run away and leave me, you’re mistaken.” Your foreheads meet, head falling to touch his while lifting your head to cup his cheek in your palm, thumb rubbing over a dried patch of blood on his face.

He stayed by your side when he could’ve gone to rest and clean himself off, and it makes your heart swell in your chest. You figured you would be alone when you woke up but here Astarion sits in front of you with dried blood covering his face and making his strands of his hair hard under your fingers, eyes tired but still open.

“Besides I told you, you’d never have to fight him alone..ever again.”

“I can’t do this to you.” His eyes close, lips pursing.

“You're not doing anything to me, we're in this together. I promise. ”

“I..”

“Astarion. I said we're in this together. You can leave but you better believe I will follow you until the end to keep you safe. Just like you keep me safe..”

Too Generous. Too Kind.

He opens his eyes to look into yours. They’re so soft, searching your eyes for genuinity. He is unsure whether you mean everything you're saying. But Astarion is sure then as he searches, you’ve never been more truthful in your life. You mean everything. His barricade is broken and he slowly moves in to plant his lips softly to yours, hands shaking against your skin.

It's soft and unsure. Just like he is. And he doesn’t stay there long in fear of making you uncomfortable, or god forbid he irritates your injury. You can’t help but smile at the genuine smile that peeks out at his lips.

“So..the person you love?”

“Careful..I can still take it back.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #x reader #oneshot #drabble #baldurs gate #astarion acunin #gn reader

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andhumanslovedstories · 4 months

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I’ve been struggling lately with the feeling that my job is pointless. Intellectually I know it is not—nursing is one of those professions where you get to be real smug about knowing the value of your work. But it’s still felt very pointless. Like I’ll start a shift thinking, “what am I even doing here,” and end it thinking, “what have I actually even done.” It’s been a ROUGH couple months.

But I had a really good shift last time I worked, which was good for the soul and also a very useful data point. I got to do pain management advocacy and symptom management, met a bunch of cool patients, did education for new nurses, and had several long heart to hearts, which the kind of midnight heart to hearts that I think are the most important part of night shift, all of that while being well staffed with very pleasant and appreciative patients and coworkers, and I was still like. Pretty depressed. I had a sense of satisfaction and moments of joy and meaning, but it turns out that one good shift did not cure the depression that has been latched on to me for the last few months like some kind of fucked up mental health leech. As I realized I was still depressed and that it was still interfering with my life even when everything was going well, the sense of peace washed over me was the best I’d felt in a while. Because I was like, okay! None of my usual stuff as worked! I have no excuse not to try something new to get my brain out of the shit ditch it’s slipped into.

So I’m applying for short-term disability. I’m worried I won’t get it, and I’m not sure what the next step is if I get rejected, but I feel so much better having decided to pursue it. It’s so much fuckin paperwork for sure, to a degree that’s overwhelming except that that the form could be a checkbox that says, “you want money?” and I’d be like “THIS IS TOO MUCH.” I’m totally not writing this post instead of finishing an email to my manager. I’m definitely not writing this post to avoid dealing with coordinating all my various care providers. I’m certainly not at every moment worried that I’m secretly faking all this so I can get three to nine weeks of a cool summer vacation.

I was thinking about how I almost flunked nursing school in my final semester because I turned in assignments late for a class with a “no late homework” policy. The professor said that this was reflective of real life, where if you miss deadlines you’re just fucked. I ended up appealing my grade and passing, because frankly it was a weak reason for making me repeat a final semester when there was no issues with my actual work or knowledge. During my appeal, I was like “I also think this policy is ableist. Harsh penalties for late work hurt students with health problems, especially chronic health problems when you aren’t asking for one week off due to the flu but instead for a general and never ending flexibility. I’m not trying to make an excuse but explain why this policy is a bad one. Disabled healthcare workers are an asset to healthcare.” I’m trying to remember my own argument as I pursue help. My depression and ADHD and eating disorder do help me be a better nurse, not because like depression gives you superpowers, but because I manage my chronic illnesses every day, in ways that range from hardly noticeable to life or death. Being kind to patients means being kind to myself, and vice versa.

I’m rambling. I really do not want to do this paperwork or send these emails. And I’m not sure if I deserve the leave I’m trying to take. But I miss being love with my job. I miss enjoying it. I wouldn’t judge someone else for going on medical leave, and my job doesn’t want me to burn out or quit. It almost feels like I have to be skeptical of applying for leave because no one else is. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been very supportive, including my manager. And considering how many unpaid days off I’ve had to take lately, disability leave would be an improvement over some of my recent paychecks. All in all, short-term disability makes sense and seems like a reasonable response to circumstances. But FUCK. I wish it required like 90 percent less documentation.

#nursing tag

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valyrfia · 6 months

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The Sainz Effect on Media: What the Hell is Going On?

Last weekend, Carlos Sainz Jr. won the 2024 Australian GP, and subsequently, almost every single F1 media outlet has seemingly lost their minds. From the aramco power rankings giving him a perfect score (despite Max not getting one for a grand slam last weekend), to motorsport.com acting like a fan account, everyone is tripping over themselves to sing his praises.

F1 is a complex sport, it requires several different aspects to even get a car moving, even more to make it competitive, and even more to enable a championship fight. From driver line-up, to aero, from international politics, to tyre deg. There's no other sport like it. To truly be an expert in Formula 1, you have to have knowledge of how a track works, an understanding of combustion engines and aerodynamics, a grasp of interpersonal and sports psychologies, and a sense of international relations. This is why, even more so than any other sport, good journalism is vital to the sport's ecosystem. No one person can be expected to be an expert in all these areas, you need a team of people who are willing to pool their knowledge and resources before coming up with conclusions to disseminate to their audience.

But media also likes narrative, and media likes an underdog, that is undeniable. And you can create an excellent underdog narrative with Carlos. From losing his seat despite his teammate keeping his, to him having to get his appendix out in Jeddah, the circumstances are there to set up an underdog narrative. But the crux of the issue is this: anyone with any sort of F1 wheel knowledge understands why Charles was kept over Carlos (a better driver even in a car built away from his driving style, who is revered almost as a messiah figure amongst the traditional fans of the team), why Sir Lewis Hamilton is a much more desirable asset to a top team than Carlos (7x world champion, who brings in a massive draw for talent that will far outlast his stint with Ferrari). So what do you do with these characters who don't match the narrative that you want to push?

Simple. You discredit them.

Make no mistake, this is what we're seeing across every major F1 news outlet in the past week. A plain journalistic choice to choose narrative over integrity. There's all sorts of rumours whizzing around as to why that could be: from possible covert payouts from Sainz Sr, to possible misogyny towards Leclerc fans to pundits simply not being bothered to do their research. But the why of it, although important, doesn't matter nearly as much as the fact that however you look at it, these journalists are failing the sport they claim to love. What's even worse, is that it takes a simple glance at numbers to tell us that these media outlets are digging themselves a hole, and are going to have to backtrack or try and excuse their belief in this narrative in the coming months.

Let's take a common line that Sky Sports like to use as an example, "Carlos Sainz is driving for himself. How incredible would it be if Carlos could compete for the championship this year." Max Verstappen will likely win the championship this year, there are no ifs and buts about it. Red Bull are still developmentally leaps ahead of their rivals, and even if Ferrari were to catch them, Max is still at the wheel. And if Ferrari were to catch them, why would Ferrari prioritise Carlos over Charles? The only driver who has been proven to be able to beat Max in his current form at Red Bull on pure pace is Charles Leclerc, which he achieved in Las Vegas last year, and would've gone on to take the win at that same race if not for the safety car. The most likely championship fight this year is Max Verstappen vs. Charles Leclerc, and that's hinging on Ferrari matching Red Bull development. This outcome is blindingly obvious to anyone who knows how this sport works, and yet the current media angle seems to not be to explain how the sport works to the general public, but rather to double down on narratives that are certainly going to be proven incorrect in a manner of months, if not weeks.

Let's look at another common angle the media seem to like to take, "You have to ask, did Ferrari make a mistake swapping out Carlos Sainz for Lewis Hamilton?". Now, if you've been even near a TV showing F1 in the past ten years, it's pretty obvious this answer is of course not. Lewis Hamilton is likely the greatest driver of all time, his name in a lot of cases outshines the sport itself. No other driver on this grid even comes close to his level of acclaim. This reason alone is enough for Ferrari to sign him. Ferrari has not won a championship in close to two decades, the best and brightest engineers want to be working where they know the results are going to come from, and right now, as a stellar engineer, Red Bull or Mercedes or even McLaren would be a choice over Ferrari, which has the added hurdle of moving to Maranello (considering nearly all the other teams are located in the Midlands in the United Kingdom). Acclaim aside, Lewis Hamilton is still a very impressive driver. P3 in the championship last year to a Red Bull 1-2 is not something to be taken lightly, considering his teammate finished in P8 in the same car with only one more retirement. It does make pure racing sense to sign him over Carlos, who finished in P7, especially since Ferrari have an up and coming talent in Ollie Bearman, and what they need is someone with experience to fill that gap until Ollie can make it to Ferrari, and will likely happily step aside when that time comes at some point in the next five years.

However, has there been a single major F1 news outlet calmly and rationally explaining this thought process for those who may enjoy the sport but are not experts? No. Instead, what we get is Sainz sensationalism, and bias so explicit it tips right over into unprofessional. From The Race saying that a Sainz/Leclerc civil war is Leclerc fan hysteria, despite their own outlet running an article just months ago about tensions in Ferrari, to motorsport.com creating a CV for Carlos, and then proceeding to harass fans who ask why they are so keen to ignore facts. Every single F1 outlet seems to have lost their minds.

The sad thing is this will only backfire massively on Carlos himself. Charles will outperform Carlos, every metric from the past year indicates so. Ferrari may be in the running for the WCC by the midpoint of the season, but Carlos's win will fade into distant memory long before we reach Spa, and the average enjoyer will look back on all this crazy media hype and go "hm, well he didn't live up to expectations did he? He was massively overrated." And this too, will be the fault of F1 media.

In conclusion, F1 media sensationalism has failed Charles, Lewis, and Max, it will fail Carlos in the coming months, but most of all, it has failed the fans of the sport, by choosing to focus on far-fetched narratives, rather than deliver proper journalism and build equally compelling narratives out of the data on the table. It highlights a lack of skill and awareness, which threatens the entire ecosystem of the sport that we all know and love.

#f1 essays #charles leclerc #lewis hamilton #f1 journalism discourse #formula 1

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astrobydalia · 8 months

Text

Astro knowledge

A short more educational post for y'all!

work by astrobydalia

Pisces/Neptune rules marketing while Gemini/Mercury is more about sales. They’re both deeply related but difference is Gemini is the salesman that appeals to your reason and resorts to mind games (Mercury) in a one-on-one to convince you why you should buy into something. Marketing on the other hand is ruled by Pisces because it appeals to the collective unconscious (Neptune). It’s all about crafting subliminal messages that make you see that product/idea as more appealing even when you know what you're seeing is not realistic. Very related to propaganda as well. This is also a field that requires a lot of creativity, they're constantly using metaphors, hyperboles or even making up little fictional stories to sell a product...

I've already said this but for anyone new, the planet that rules real love is moon not Venus. See the full explanation here

Where Sagittarius is in your chart will bring luck and happiness, but Taurus does give off expansive (or dare I say expensive) energy too. Where Taurus sits in your chart is an area of your life that will be more grandiose in nature cause Taurus rules over indulgence and pleasure. You could experience some sort of privilege when it comes to this house, the themes of this house come to you in abundance with little to no effort. Some examples:

Taurus 1st house: have a striking and bold appearance, gives off luxury and attractive vibes regardless of their looks. These people could come across as a "high value woman/man" without trying

Taurus 7th house: very active and abundant love life, lots of suitors and business partners landing on your lab, they want to provide for you and/or give you lucrative opportunities

Taurus 9th house: having access to high quality education or elevated knowledge. Probably attended a very exclusive or expensive collage, payed vacations vibes, easy and frequent relocations

Taurus 10th house: almost untouchable reputation, very respected and liked by others, is always seen as innocent or harmless, lots of success with their ventures

The 2nd house also talks about your roots and upbringing but in a more objective and material sense. This house and the position of its ruler can be very telling of how your actual social and economic context shaped your basic values. It can also talk about your house as the 2nd house rules over real state, lands, properties, etc. The 4th house is more about your home, how you were raised within that reality and how it impacted you emotionally at your core

Example: Libra risings could come from an environment that shaped their values around survival and money gains due to Scorpio 2nd house (I've seen very commonly they come from marginalized groups or humble beginnings or very financially competitive environments). So they have a family that is very demanding and expected them to work or be a boss from a young age (Capricorn 4th house)

Speaking of, 2nd house does not ONLY rule money!!! It rules RESOURCES and anything that you own that is highly valuable and you can put a price on!!!! And yes of course since these things are valuable they can be easily monetized, traded, used to make you money. This can be your skills, assets, real state, etc. The 2nd house is your piggy bank basically

There's a lot of talk about how 11th house is how you make money in your career while 2nd house is how you spend it. Well this is technically true but I'd like to add more explanation to this. In derivative astrology 11th house is 2nd (money) from the 10th (career) so it does show how you actually make money from your career. 2nd house is where you get money but 11th house is how you make money. Your 11th house is the multiplier (credits to @cosmicpuzzle for that fact) while 2nd house is where your financial stability lies on. In other words 11th house is indicative of how you generate more but 2nd house is all about what you already have, its about what you can make with what you OWN already, it deals with money that is already available through your resources' value (again, you piggy bank). This does 'make' you money in a way like if you lose your job and are lacking money your 2nd house where you turn to for example if you own a house you can rent it, you can buy a rare item that costs a lot, selling your art or any other natural skill, etc. The concept of value is important in this house bc it can increase or decrease (while 11th house increases and multiplies). The more valuable your resources are the more potential money you have available which means more financial stability and wealth. Anyways hope all that makes sense

We often refer to water signs when talking spirituality but truth is fire signs are very spiritual in nature as well. Fire symbolizes the spark of life itself, nothing could exist or be created without it. Aries deals with the basic ontological conception of 'I am, I exist', Leo is about how the self manifests and create itself and Sagittarius is about the purpose of the self. Living beings need heat to thrive/live and just like fire radiates heat your spirit radiates energy, creativity, passion, action, inspiration, purpose... and that's what fire signs represent. I'd say fire represents the fundamentality of spirit while water is more about the complexity of inner world.

Just like Aries is the "natural" ASC for a birth chart, Libra is the natural ASC for a composite chart cause a birth chart represents the chart of an individual (Aries) while composite represents the mutual relationship between two people (Libra)

When you develop the themes of a certain house in a healthy manner, you naturally start attracting the themes of the opposite house. This goes to show you that things in astrology aren't as compartmentalized as they seem, everything works together in certain way SPECIALLY axis'. Examples:

You need to focus on yourself first (1st house) to find the right partner (7th house)

You need to investigate and learn (3rd house) in order to find higher answers (9th house)

When you invest successfully (8th house) you earn more available resources (2nd house).

When you develop your hobbies and individuality (5th house) you find keen people (11th house)

When you heal spiritually (12th house) you find healthier habits (6th house)

There's this misconception that you have to disregard your South Node in order to develop you NN, but the thing is the SN is the starting point that can lead you towards developing your NN. This can happen as a harsh and painful lesson tho if you liger too much on your SN. For example NN in Libra need to learn to compromise in this life, there's a lot of focus on the self and independence, but eventually this placement teaches them that if you really wanna develop yourself in full potential (Aries) eventually you'll need others (Libra). If they linger too much on Aries SN they could experience a harsh lesson that forces them to count on others

work by astrobydalia

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia #astrology observations

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nyx-umbrakinesis · 3 months

Text

Late

Vox x FReader

CW: Smut, P in V sex, fingering, edging, overstimulation, erotic electrostimulation, semi public, fairly vanilla after hours office smut, lots of praise and various (excessive) endearments used... praise kink go brrr.

fic below the cut.

I hope you all enjoy your hot TV dinner.

Vox sat in his office working late one evening, focused on the screens before him, observing the general objects of his interest outside of the tower, he is consciously aware of the time due to the noises or rather lack of, in the areas outside his main (socially friendly) office.

Rubbing a clawed hand wearily over his screen he sighs; he resigns himself to the fact there’s probably no more he can do so late in the day, and it be conducive to his productivity.

So, he stands on heavy feet and exits his office, blinking a few times when he spots a certain little sinner diligently working away at their desk. This one seems to work as hard as he does these days, he wonders why for a moment, after all everyone else can’t seem to get away from work fast enough... Yet you... You linger.

You look up and blink in surprise, having not noticed him leaving his office at first, and this is actually pretty early for him to make an appearance, usually he’s engrossed in his work until a much later hour.

You shiver slightly at his intimidating posture, Vox is just standing and staring at you, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You restrain yourself from reacting. It wouldn’t do well to give away how his mere presence affects you, especially not knowing how he... Or specifically his other male counterpart, might react if he found out exactly why it is you linger so late in the office night after night.

Your thighs tense slightly under the desk, the safest move possible and it does help alleviate some of the ache within.

“Can I help you sir?” You manage to pipe up as formally as possible, slightly unnerved and hyper aware of the isolation surrounding you both as has been a frequent occurrence lately.

“Mhm.” Vox nods, his eyes scanning over you, you think perhaps hungrily, or rather you half hope, as he seems to maintain his composure with what appears to be effortless ease.

He takes a step closer, his voice low and husky, his glowing eyes trained upon you as he speaks. You try to manage your breathing to stay level as his scent hits your nose; slightly metallic, maybe a hint of something more but very subtle, his cologne overpowered by the heady smell of fuel or perhaps oil, your mouth waters slightly, it's an addicting smell either way, subtle but almost hypnotic... Just as he can be.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, Doll. Your work ethic is truly... inspiring.” His words are dripping with innuendo, your heart races, and eyes dilate, and, in your head, you panic, thinking over and over again ‘It’s happening’. There’s also an underlying sincerity that betrays his true feelings, one you don't seem to notice, but is a little too exposing for his comfort.

He leans in slightly, his breath hot against your ear as he continues. “And those... ‘assets’ of yours. Absolutely fascinating. I can’t help but wonder how, you came up with such... efficient productivity plans.” His voice is barely above a whisper now, filled with desire and obsession, he idly thinks to himself how he would love to feel your ‘assets’ pressed against him.

You shiver slightly at his proximity, his breath ghosting the nape of your neck and goosebumps erupting all over your skin, your heart pounding at his suggestive tone, you must restrain yourself from moaning out loud and embarrassing yourself.

Vox straightens up, his grin turning wicked as he meets your gaze, knowingly guessing correctly his effect on you, after all there’s a reason you’ve also been working late, and it definitely isn’t due to your work ethics.

Vox ploughs on... “You see, my dear, I can’t get you out of my head lately. I’ve been wondering if perhaps you also have been having the same... challenges I have seemingly been ‘blessed’ with upon our frequent encounters... And I’ve decided I’m done waiting and second guessing... I want you Doll, I’m not going to waste time beating around the bush, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine, name it and it’s yours.”

You blush, as your boss leans closer, his heat making your heart race, his smirk widening as he sees the evidence of his effect on you, your blush, your tense body, the small bumps forming along your skin, the slight shiver and submissive tilt of your head, he feels his cock hardening, already desperate to find out just how good you feel wrapped around it, not a new feeling, but one he feels much closer to achieving, now more than ever.

Vox steps even closer, looming over you now, his chest almost touching yours as he bends and speaks in a low, husky voice. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you blush, Doll? Do you have any idea what that does to me... What you do to me? It’s like you’re inviting me to take you, to taste you.”

You’re utterly mesmerised, speech unable to form as you bathe in his ever-present glow, his large frame dwarfing you, making you feel delicate and ready to melt just for him, the moisture between your legs already way ahead of you.

Vox’s sharp, cyan-tipped fingers reach out, a moment of unnoticed hesitation on his end before gently brushing against your cheek and tracing down your neck, your breath hitches, your heart pounding so hard your vision blurs and ears feel muffled.

“And your pulse... it’s racing. Are you afraid of me, my dear?” Vox teases, his fingers lingering right where your heart betrays you, he knows that the exact opposite is true, if his scent receptors were more sensitive, he would no doubt be able to smell the arousal currently pooling in your underwear, filling the office with such a fragrance you’d be utterly humiliated to be found as the source. You try desperately to control your reactions, trying so hard not to embarrass yourself.

Vox smiles devilishly, leaning in even closer, his lips mere centimetres from yours, breath tickling your lips, his own heady scent wafting up your nostrils, making your eyes want to roll back and for you to present yourself like a bitch in heat, as he whispers, tantalisingly.

“Or are you excited by just the mere thought of being mine?” His glowing blue tongue darts out provocatively, your eyes greedily following the suggestive action, a slight whimper escapes, making you blush even harder, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but the look on his face says everything.

Vox’s screen flickers suddenly displaying various images of the two of you together in intimate scenarios, revealing his deepest fantasies and desires in just a fraction of a second, but enough for you to see, your whole body goes hot at his intentional display.

You stammer over your words, attempting to communicate, utterly enthralled and speechless... You whimper slightly as his body heat radiates even closer to you, the main source... His screen... You lean forward unconsciously seeking the warmth... And him.

Vox smirks, noticing your reaction to his advances. He takes advantage of your momentary vulnerability, closing the gap between your faces until his lips are almost touching yours. “You want me, don’t you, Doll?” He whispers, his hot breath mingling with yours.

You visibly shiver, his grin widens impossibly further as you gaze up at him, your brain short circuiting.

Emboldened by your reactions thus far, Vox’s fingers continue their exploration, taking a huge gamble but he doubts he’s read you wrong, moving down to gently cup your breast through your clothing.

He feels you arch into his touch slightly in response, and it only makes him more determined to claim you, your whimper assures him his advances are not unwelcome. He marvels at the soft pliant feel of you in his hands, all just for him... Just the way he likes it.

Vox is certainly glad you seem to take the time to work as late as he does, (whether his guess as to your motives is correct or not) as it’s left the office deserted for the two of you, fortuitous circumstances indeed.

His thumb rubs over your nipple, he watches your reactions closely, savouring the sight of your arousal, the slight stutter of your chest on an inhale, the trembling of your upper body, the goosebumps rising incessantly on your flesh.

“You see, my dear, I can give you everything you desire... All you have to do is submit to me.” Vox coos, trying to entice you further, wanting there to be no doubts in your mind, wanting your full submission. He wants you to want him, needs this more than he ever realised, before, maybe its infatuation, but he’s never felt so hard for another in his entire existence... Well except... But that’s never going to happen.

Vox’s screen this time involuntarily displays an image of the two of you, entwined in a passionate embrace. It’s clear to you that he’s envisioning a future where you belong to him completely, it’s actually a rather wholesome scene of the pair of you entwined, his fingers stroking down you back as you read to him, his eyes trained on your face with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before.

You bite your lip, stifling a moan as your senses are jarred back to him and his touch as Vox kneads your breasts, feeling a fresh warm rush of desire and arousal flood between your legs, further ruining your underwear, if there is such a possibility at this point.

You whimper softly as he teases your nipple with the tip of his claw, edging you and waiting for an answer before taking anything further, the raised eyebrow makes you realise all of this.

“Yes please... Sir.” You manage to breathe out, finally finding and forcing your voice to do its damn job, feeling a little faint from the effort of not just letting him do all the work.

Finally! Vox chuckles menacingly, his eyes flashing with satisfaction as they darken with desire as he hears your plea, still using his office honorific, he finds he rather likes that particular word coming from your enticing lips, as breathy whines escape you, encouraging him further with every reaction he drags from you.

Unable to hold back, you feel as though you could combust right now with the overwhelming racing thoughts and sensations, your fear of getting caught in the act, your despair of the possibility of this being a use and dump situation, his utterly enthralling pleasurable ministrations, his scent... Just him in general, you whine even louder as he floods your senses to know nothing but him in this moment.

You wonder why you’re holding back from something you’ve wanted and fantasised about for so long now. Perhaps it is because you’re both still in the office, your whirling fears a cacophony in your head, trying to warn you.

Despite being the only souls who should be anywhere near at this late hour, there are the cleaning crew to still worry about, you have a thrill of fear, at this though, the thought of being heard or worse yet, being seen impaled on your boss's cock as he rails you seven ways to Sunday.

Vox is completely unconcerned which such things, it seems, his touch swiftly becomes bolder, squeezing your breasts more firmly now he’s had audible consent, he leans in eagerly to capture your lips in a bruising electrifying kiss, and all thoughts about being caught fizzle from your mind as you moan into his mouth, finally getting a taste of the fuzzy static you had pondered would be present.

He can practically taste your desperation, his tongue delving and exploring with impatience, now he’s got you he wants everything all at once, he needs every experience he’s rubbed his cock to, fantasising for months about you now as he’s observed your beautiful curves and sway of your hips as he’s let you out late each evening from work to lock up behind you.

Using the VoxTec drone Vox had subtly followed you home as he’d rushed to the nearby janitorial closet, your walking rear displayed on his screen, he gasps and moans, his hand wrapping around the blue throbbing need and stroking himself with abandon and desperation, until he erupts into a nearby cloth, the frequency of these acts leaving him raw and yet unable to stop, even after he was caught by a cleaning staff member, promptly silenced.

You sigh, bringing his thoughts back into the moment, he finally has you, why is he wasting time reminiscing when the glory is all right here, right now? Practically begging for him to enjoy, and enjoy he shall, he smiles, his screen heating to an unsafe temperature for a moment as the fans kick in.

You moan, to his utter delight, he’s delicious, and it only fuels his own desire. His tongue explores your mouth fervently, he presses himself even closer dominating the space and pressing against you as he deepens the kiss even more, your mouth giving way to his. It's odd because his kisses leave such tingles on your lips, but it’s not a flat screen you’re meeting, its rather firm, but they’re definitely a pair of lips you feel, electrified, tingly lips, but they feel amazing.

Vox breaks the kiss briefly, allowing you both some air, his voice husky, full of lust and confidence as he speaks, almost repeating himself word for word once more.

“You’re going to be mine, My Doll. And I promise you, I will give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

He captures your lips again, his fingers still teasing your nipples as he claims you in a display of dominance and power, bearing down on you. His other hand moves lower, pressing against the fabric covering your wetness, making sure you know exactly what he intends, as if there was doubt at this point.

You whimper, your hips bucking as he brushes your swollen aching clit through the fabric, and he smirks against your lips, the zing of his static causes your hairs to stand on end, his own cock jumps inside his trousers at the feel of your sopping cunt, not a dry patch to be found on your panties, and even your skirt and office chair had suffered the same fate. His arrogant grin widens at the thought of him being the cause off this, and the willingness emanating from your squirming whining form.

“Good Baby Doll.” Vox purrs, pleased with your response. He moves in, pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth.

“Mmm.”

Vox moans as he tastes you, his hands still fondling your breasts possessively, your back arching as you whimper and moan deliciously for him, after a few seconds, he pulls away, his electric blue eyes darkened with desire as he drinks you in.

“You’re mine now, Doll. And I intend to use you well.” He promises, smirking sinfully as your body burns with desire, his tone dripping with arrogance, supported by the sight of your dishevelled needy state.

He grabs your wrist, pulling you up into his strong arms as you gasp at his hardness pressing insistently into your abdomen briefly, before he tugs on you, leading you to the ‘waiting’ couch nearby, pushing you onto it before slotting his warm hard body against yours, fitting together so perfectly. Vox can feel you dampening his trousers, his hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt impatiently as your hands remember they exist and you run them up the smooth fabric covering the hard planes of his toned chest, you don’t bother to stifle the moan that escapes you this time, so far gone in the moment.

“Say my name Doll.” Vox insists.

“S-Sir?” You manage to choke out as he flings your top away indelicately and tuts amused at your unfocused gaze.

“No, not ‘Sir’, Say my name, my little Bombshell.” Vox chides, light-heartedly. Teasing your nipples through the lace of your bra, using the slight pain from his claw tips to keep you further enticed... Not that you need any coaxing, as you moan so prettily for him yet again, he notices your cheeks darken again to his immense pride, “Fuck, Doll you’ve got such glorious tits. Now be a good little Sex Kitten and do as you are told.”

“Vox!” You gasp loudly at his pinch on your sensitive bud.

“Again.” He demands fiercely, not letting go, screen glitching slightly.

“Vox,” comes out whined more breathily this time, “oh, mmmmmpppfff” You moan softly, leaning your head back as he fondles you more thoroughly and gently in reward, your body meeting his hands to press your chest further into his touch, begging silently for more.

Feeling Vox’s finger trail down to your wet panties, you spread your legs wider, desperate and aching, hyperaware of the large hard presence of his cock throbbing against you insistently even as he focuses entirely on your body, a trail of sparks follows his touch stimulating you, the slight burn making you tingle and jolt, he keeps you in his dazzling gaze.

Vox smirks as he observes your leg's part wider, giving him better access to your drench's wetness. “Look at you, desperate for more, for me, I can see it in your eyes Baby Doll.” He chuckles, his voice dripping with arrogance, his eyes unblinking as he takes everything in, trying to embed it all in his memory banks, unwilling to miss a single frame.

Vox slides his finger under the fabric of your panties, teasing your entrance before plunging it inside without warning, you gasp and squeak in shock and pleasure, moaning as he slides in with such ease, your body moving to meet his movements obediently.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Vox groans, his own self-control flickering, feeling your walls clench around his finger as he starts gently thrusting in and out, mindful to use his finger pad not the claw to press against the spongy spot of ecstasy for you, your tight heat gripping tightly on just his finger, his cock throbs eager to know just how much squeezing and teasing he’ll have to do to fit inside.

His other hand continues to tease your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers as he ravishes you.

“You like that, don’t you?” Vox’s voice low and seductive, not expecting an answer as you moan again as a second finger joins the first, your whole body shaking from the tingles he’s causing within you, your body tightening and loosening with every tiny zap and rub, igniting much more than ever before, your body almost convulsing from the overwhelming stimulation.

His tongue snakes out to lick his lips, biting down on it in concentration, his cerulean eyes, liquid, and locked onto yours as he watches your every reaction to his ministrations.

“I could fuck you right here, right now. And anyone outside would be able to hear your desperate little moans.” Vox teases.

You suddenly realise you’ve been making quite a ruckus, however when you try to shut your mouth and put a once again forgotten hand over it, Vox tuts.

“Don’t you dare deprive me of this Doll.” Vox moves your hand away from your mouth gently, and places it right on his straining bulge, his hand cupping and encasing yours, firmly his hand holds over the top of yours as he moans, bucking his hips into your hand as you feel his own burning need for you, rutting desperately hard and frighteningly large, pressing your hand against him so you rub him, his other hand not forgetting it’s task for an instant, but you own eyes meet his again so aroused and intimidated, all it does is endear you further to him.

“Look at what you do to me Doll, can you feel how hard my fucking cock is for you right now.” Vox growls and you shiver and moan again, as a third finger pulls you away from eye contact, the burn of the stretch as he attempts to prepare you for what’s to come, he’s not sure how much patience he has left at this point as it still won’t be enough.

Vox smirks, his fingers sliding out as he gives into his desires, tracing back up through your wetness, making sure to tease you just enough to leave you wanting more as you whine needily, on the verge of an orgasm as he torments you with glee. His other hand moves upwards, gently gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze yet again as you had been staring at his fingers longingly, not allowing you an inch of reprieve.

“Look at me, Doll.” He commands, his voice firm and dominant as he holds your gaze. He can see the desire in your eyes, and it only fuels his own. He starts to tug at your bra, pulling it impatiently one handed, before growling and giving up, using a sharp claw to slice it off your body, upwards to reveal your bare breasts. His eyes widen at the sight, and he lets out a low whistle.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” He murmurs, his fingers trailing lightly over your nipples before pinching them gently between his thumbs and forefingers again, zapping you gently to give you more burning tingle and your nipples go all puffy in their already pebbled state, as you can’t hold back a very loud moan, to his utter smug delight.

Making sure you’re watching him, Vox slowly brings his glistening fingers back up to his screen, and you whine as you watch his long tongue wrap around the first digit wickedly, shaking and needy you watch as he hums and greedily devours your essence from his skilled fingers, slightly pricking his tongue in his eagerness, a drop of red escaping his mouth, your eyes following its path down his chin, but oddly doesn’t escape past his screen.

“Delicious.” He leans in, capturing your lips in another heated kiss as his free hand begins to undo his pants, swiftly releasing his impressive throbbing length. He grins against your lips as he pulls back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours as you whimper scared and aroused at the sight of the veiny, blue member, it's so thick and long you doubt your ability to house such a monster, as you begin to protest.

Vox silences you with another kiss, this time slow and reassuring, when he allows you mild freedom again, you bite your lip, looking back into his eyes as he stares down at you, you feel warmth suffuse your tingly body, reassured you nod.

At his encouraging glance, you reach out, tentatively wrapping your hand around his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze, and smiling shyly as he groans, his eyes half closing. You can feel the heat radiating off him increase, you bite your lip to hold in another moan as Vox’s cock throbs in your hand, twitching eagerly at your attention, you’re so tempted to taste, but shy from the idea at the last moment.

Vox moans as your hands feel so very soft on his raging erection as he finally feels one of the things he’s been dreaming of for months... Any part of you touching his bare cock willingly, hell if you back down now, he’d have wanking material for the next several decades, after all he had less to go on before with... And that never stopped him.

He shakes his head slightly to ground himself, refusing to let the past taint what is finally in his grasp, a chance at true pleasure, perhaps even happiness, if he can make the right impression.

Vox’s eyes flutter closed momentarily as you wrap your other hand around his cock, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He can feel the anticipation building within him, his desire for you reaching new heights.

“That’s it, Doll.” Vox murmurs, his voice husky and filled with need. “Touch me... Feel how hard I am for you... It’s just us right now, this is all for you, you do this to me every time I see you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He bites his tongue for giving far too much away too soon luckily not hard enough to hurt.

He opens his eyes in his panic, meeting your gaze once more as he starts to thrust his hips forward, hoping to distract you enough to not think on his words, grinding his cock against your soft palm. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through him, his cock twitching eagerly in your grasp.

“Fuck, you’re driving me wild Doll.” Vox groans, his other hand reaching out to caress your leg, inching closer and closer to your dripping cunt once more, wanting just to flip you over and drive into you again and again until neither of you can stand for several days. In his ecstasy he had almost forgotten your pleasure. His trusty thumb brushes against your aching pulsing clit, circling it gently as he continues to grind against your hand, both of you let out a long low moan simultaneously.

You jolt as a bolt of burning pleasurable electricity zings through your clit, stronger than the ones before as he loses control slightly, with a glitch as evidence, you whine loudly your hips bucking and tears pricking your eyes as you’re basking in the blue glow of his attention, like the sun, but better. The zap had caused you to gush so much the sofa would definitely need replacing as your legs twitch and tremble.

“You’re so fucking ready for me, aren’t you? Fuck you feel so good.” Growling as he recovers just enough.

“I can’t wait any longer, Doll.” He whispers, his voice filled with raw desire. “I need to be inside you... Now.”

You nod rapidly, gasping and complying as he touches you, guiding you, your legs spreading wider without conscious thought, offering yourself to him as he pulls your hips adjusting you almost frantic now.

“Please!” You beg, desperate for release, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable, droplets of your juices glistening on your thighs.

He greedily drinks in the sight of you, his screen fritzing slightly again making you blush at the scrutiny.

“You sure Doll?” He double checks, sweetly and you melt, nodding, unable to form words.

His fingers which had been working away at you once more pick up and your head flings back, hurting slightly on the cushioned impact of the sofa arm, as your pussy throbs and contracts as he brings you to the edge, your juices slicking his fingers, proof of your need for him.

You bite your lip, staring up at him, pleading silently for him to take you, to give you what you need as Vox watches you hungrily pumping his hot hard weeping cock.

When he finally positions himself at your entrance, you spread your legs wider, straining them with seer need, eager for him not even thinking twice about denying him now, not when you’re so close, he savours the sight for just a moment, his cock poised and ready to enter you.

As he sinks in slowly, you cry out, arching your back as he loads himself inside you, fighting and teasing the soft clenching cushioned sopping hole every step of the way as it clings to him like his own personalised cocksleeve, only better, filling you completely, stretching you deliciously as you almost cum right then and there.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him down to meet your lips in a brutal kiss, needing more, your legs wrapping around the backs of his thighs, pulling him deeper, making you cry out as he impacts your cervix half painfully half pleasurably, the heat from his screen making you crave him more.

Gripping his shoulders tightly as he begins to move inside you, you could cry in thankfulness as he finally gives you both everything you need, dragging and splashing, moaning and groaning, his thrusts becoming harder and faster with each passing second, lips joined together in a dizzying kiss, you’ve never felt more wanted... More possessed... More pleasured.

He breaks the kiss panting, his screen fritzing again and buries his face in your neck, angling his and your head just so, to give him access, clearly well practiced by now, just so he can hear your unimpeded sinful gasping moaning and sounds of ecstasy for HIS cock. His teeth scraping against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he claims you in every way possible.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with your loud moans and cries of pleasure, mixing together in a symphony of pure ecstasy. Vox’s hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts again just enough to have your moans change pitch, pinching your nipples between his fingers as he continues to ravish you.

You finally remember your own hands again and cling to his flexing forearms which only serves to bring you both more pleasure with another shared moan in confirmation, your legs not allowing him to drag out for too long, like he would be tempted to tease now he's finally in your heavenly depths.

Vox groans as he continues to thrust into you, his body coming alive with each movement. He can’t believe he finally has you beneath him, your bodies joined in the most intimate way possible. His hands continue to explore your body, revelling in the softness of your skin, the curves of your body. He can’t get enough of you.

“Fucking divinity, right here you pretty perfect Little Petal.” Vox moans in your ear.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours as he begins to thrust harder and faster, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable, building heat in you both as your walls tighten around him, and he begins to throb, fire in your lower abdomens.

Vox can see the pleasure in your eyes, and it only fuels his own determination. He starts to thrust even harder, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies as he pounds you into oblivion.

His hands move lower, gripping your hips as he ruts into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His cock pulsing incessantly inside you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Vox leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers hotly. “You’re mine, Baby Doll.”

His hands continue to explore your body, revelling in the softness of your skin, the curves of your body. He can’t get enough of you, every dip, curve, hard line, and every glistening bead of sweat utterly entrancing.

He moans, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into you relentlessly, his cock throbbing inside you, his need for you growing stronger with each thrust.

He trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving love bites in his wake, you enjoying every overwhelming sensation as your nails dig into him and you cling for dear life, unable to match his pace and just letting him take control sliding your whole body up and down on his cock at one point.

“You’re mine, my dear. Mine to fuck, mine to ravish, mine to possess.” Vox growls possessively as proof, his fingers digging into your hips as he continues to pound into you.

He can’t get enough of you, he needs more, he needs to claim every inch of you, your tight soft cunt feels so perfect wrapped around his cock, just like he knew it would, and Vox is never letting go now he’s had a taste.

“You’re so fucking tight, I can barely fucking think!” Vox grunts, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he nears his climax, you moan in agreement at how perfect he feels burrowing a Vox shaped imprint deep in your pliant cunt.

His tongue snakes out, tracing patterns on your skin, leaving a burning electric feeling behind with every lap against you, you moan as you hear it crackle so close to your ear.

Vox’s breath suddenly hot against your ear as he whispers sweet nothings to you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“You’re so fucking perfect, so fucking delicious, such a delicate Little Flower aren’t you Pet, you were born to be as beautiful as all the Flora, an entire meadow of Roses could only hope to compare.”

“Please.... Don’t... Stop... Oh fuck.” You whine, your body convulsing again, feeling his cock spreading you open forcefully with each thrust, it’s maddening, delightful, sinful, heavenly, you can’t think up enough adjectives as your mind also shorts out. Vox watches as your body bounces with the force of his thrusts, your tits mesmerising him.

He can’t believe he finally has you beneath him, you wet right cunt trying to drag him in deeper as he has to fight each thrust, just to drag his warm member rubbing every inch of it through your hot wet cunt, just to do it all over again, never wanting this to end, yet desperate for it to end all at the same time.

His eyes flicker down to your breasts, watching as they bounce freely with each thrust. He reaches out, his hand wrapping around one of them, squeezing it gently as he continues to pound into you, feeling as it tries to resist staying in just one place, to pillowy mound making him throb again and you moan feeling everything.

His other hand moves lower, teasing your clit with his fingertips, rubbing it in slow circles as he continues to thrust into you, your moaning and thrashing increasing to new heights.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers hotly.

“You like that, don’t you, Doll?” He growls possessively, his fingers pinching your nipple gently. “You love the feeling of my cock stretching you out, filling you up, don’t you? Your cunt is like a little Lotus, so soft and delicate and beautiful like an Azalea... Or perhaps you’re more like Nightshade, as I feel like you could be the death of me” His voice is husky, full of desire and need as he continues to own you.

His sweet words a massive contrast to how he’s treating your helpless body, not that you’d complain as his cock throbs making your cunt clench again reflexively with another loud moan.

All you CAN do is moan helplessly your nails finding purchase on his back this time, digging in through his suit jacket, he hadn’t had the patience to discard it in his eagerness to claim you.

Vox glitches again at your reactions to his rough treatment, enjoying every moment of it, his fans working overtime as he tries to stay in the moment, not wanting to miss even a second.

“You like that, don’t you, Doll?” He purrs, the glitching making him repeat himself.

His hands move back up to grab your breasts, obviously an obsession for him at this point his enthrallment with them hard to miss, squeezing them firmly again as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly using them to steady himself.

“You’re so fucking sexy; I could fuck you for hours and never get tired of this.” His lips crash down onto yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth as he ravages you.

“F-f-fuck... ‘Ellmmmm... ‘Ellllp...” You manage to stammer out as you’re so overcome, he’s so very entertained by your plea for mercy, his hips snap forward, driving his cock as deep into you as he can, hitting that spot that makes you scream in pleasure in response.

You’re panting, moaning loudly, every muscle in your body quivering, he slows slightly as he sees you trying to speak meaningfully.

“I’m close... Please... Make me cum...” You gasp, begging him to let you release.

“Not yet...” He growls, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming back in, the sudden change in pace making you scream in agonised pleasure, so overstimulated, tears pricking your eyes at his denial, but he doesn’t want this to end, not yet, not now, not ever.

He does it again, and again, pulling almost fully out before slamming back in with a wet slap, driving you higher and higher until you’re sobbing from pleasure.

“You’re going to cum for me, right though Baby Doll... All over my cock... Just like that... Soon I promise,” His voice thick with passion.

He keeps driving you towards the edge, again and again, never letting you fall over, keeping you on the razor’s edge until he’s ready for you to explode.

You’re a pleading, soaking, begging mess when finally...

“Cum for me, Doll... Cum for me now!” He demands, his voice a low snarl, his eyes burning with desire, his thumb merciless against your throbbing needy clit, his cock filling every part of you, your walls fighting him every step of the way as you clamp down so tightly.

As you reach your peak, the sensation washes over you like a tidal wave, suddenly pulling you under. Your whole-body tenses and spasms, your legs kicking and writhing as he continues to thrust into you as you cum hard, and he moans as your walls ripple and clench around him trying to milk him for everything he has desperately.

A flood of liquid squirts from your pussy, spraying his belly in powerful bursts, trickling down his cock and onto his balls, pooling in his lap and running down your thighs, making a huge mess as his thrusting causes the sweet-smelling droplets to splash on anything in the near vicinity.

The sound that escapes him is inhuman, his screen going completely blue momentarily.

Vox gasps, his eyes flickering back in and widening in shock at the sheer amount of fluid that still gushes from you, he knew you were wet, but nothing could have prepared him for this, his eyes glued to the sight of your pleasure, entranced, his hips faltering ever so slightly, before picking up again, determined to wring as much from your bucking body as possible.

Vox definitely found a new obsession as the floral scent hits him, strong enough for him to actually smell as it fills the entire office, he’s never needed anything more, and it was something he had no idea he’d ever wanted, moaning at the sheer warmth and feel of your squirting cunt, it was utterly divine, heaven could suck it, because he just found his.

He keeps trying to control the fritzing of his screen, it would be a crime to miss a moment of this utter glorious display.

He groans as he continues to thrust into you, maintaining his pace, his fingers rubbing more gently on your overly sensitive clit, prolonging your orgasm as he chases his own release within your spasming cunt.

Vox’s eyes roll back in pleasure as he finally allows himself to let go and cum, pumping his load deep inside you, his hot seed mingling with your wetness, filling you up completely, even spilling out the sides of his embedded cock and flowing out of you in thick spurts as he finishes.

You moan as you feel the burning sensation of his cum spilling inside you triggering a small involuntary convulsion within you as you scream helplessly as his cum makes you milk him for every last drop, the static electricity seeming to force your body to take every ounce... If only you could breed, the swift thought crosses Vox’s mind momentarily.

Vox collapses onto you, his chest heaving as he pants heavily, cock still buried deep inside you, arms wrapping around you as he kisses you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth lazily, as he thrusts his hips lazily, making sure to fuck every bit of his cum inside you even deeper.

You’re panting, moaning weakly, completely spent, your body still tingling from the force of your orgasm, trying desperately to recover enough to at least think straight.

Vox’s still moving inside you, you vaguely register, driving his cock deeper with each tiny thrust, the pleasure is too much for the both of you, but in the best way possible.

“So good... So, fucking good...” Vox murmurs against your lips, his breath hot against you, far hotter than you'd ever felt before, you could almost burn yourself on him but miraculously he doesn’t seem to be causing any harm.

He keeps thrusting seemingly reluctant to stop despite the little jolts of his whole body indicating his own overstimulation, your own lax body matching his jolting with its own.

He breaks the kiss to press his flat smouldering forehead against yours, his eyes locked with your well fucked gaze, the intensity in his ocean deep eyes taking your breath away.

But his screen dims enough so he doesn’t hurt your vision, and it helps him begin the cooling down process much faster.

“You’re mine now, Doll...” Vox whispers possessively, his voice husky with desire and satisfaction. “I’m not letting go of you without a fight, you better believe, the Sins themselves couldn’t pry you from me now.”

He eventually pulls out slowly, mindfully of your likely sore body, his cock sliding out of you with a heavy thudding wet sound as it hits his thigh, dripping your combined fluids onto the floor as he stands.

“Y-yes sir.” You manage to shakily pant, your legs trembling and dripping. At his warning look you correct immediately, “V-Vox.”

“Much better Little Petal.” His suave confidence returning now with ease, he’s the big boss man himself again.

Vox chuckles as he sees you watching the swaying of his limp cock as he moves, not a clue what you’re thinking, but he likes the look in your eyes, so he starts taking off his clothes properly.

This time he’s determined to take his time with you and show you what more you could expect from him, his half hard cock standing proudly trying to regain its attentive state already. A much faster refectory time than he’s even used to, he’s definitely not done with you yet...

Vox smirks, seeing the look of surprise and apprehension on your face, he decided he loved surprising you... Especially with his cock, it’s his new favourite thing. His grin dangerous, promising to devour you.

“What? Did you seriously think I was done with you already Doll? No... Not now I finally have you. It’s late, and you’re Mine.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #vox smut #vox x reader hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader smut #vox x you #vox x y/n #vox x you smut #vox x y/n smut #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin x reader #vox hazbinhotel #vox hazbin #vox hazbin hotel #vox #hazbinhotel vox

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dailyadventureprompts · 4 months

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DM Tip: The Debt Always Comes Due

Isn't it weird how little we engage with gold as a real gameplay system? Sure, at low level wealth makes a great questhook, the party is usually hurting for a payout so that they can afford necessary gear upgrades/ubiquitous healing potion restocks/their next trip to the magic item shop. After a while though the promise of raw wealth loses its lustre, and the party is less likely to go out of their way to accept bounties, go off chasing treasuremaps, or accept gigs from shady patrons.

Generally I'd advise that this is a sign that your party are done being run of the mill sellswords, and it's time to hit them with a big epic questline that's focused more on emotional and narrative stakes than base currency. That said, sometimes you want to run a longer adventure arc that's centred around the acquisition of wealth, but to do that, you're going to need to go against the grain on one of the foundational assumptions that underpins D&D both mechanically and narratively.

TLDR: If you want your party to be motivated by gold past their first big pay off you should consider using a "wealth hurdle", which in short is a narrative and gameplay challenge that forces them to collect not only more gold than they already have but also more gold than they could get doing what they've been doing so far. This can be anything from a crimelord calling in a debt on them or one of their allies, a powerful monster swooping in and demanding tribute, comissioning some grand construction, or funding the defence of a region. Having the hurdle active should cause problems for the party, and not clearing the hurdle before a perdetermiend deadline will immensely bad things to happen. This will force the party to take risks they otherwise wouldn't, giving a high degree of focus to their subsequent adventures that they wouldn't have if they were content.

What we're trying to fix:

At it's core, D&D is a power fantasy, and a good chunk of its gameplay mechanics regardless of edition are about acquiring new strengths, options, and assets. These assumptions are likewise built into the genre and narrative structure of most campaigns: Heroes undertake quests usually for the promise of some reward, gain experiance/hit milestones along the way, and eventually stumble across some kind of loot drop at the end. There's nothing strictly wrong with this, but it does mean that all the resource problems the heroes face in the early game (and the inbuilt motivations that come along with them) are all but resolved by the time they hit the next gameplay tier.

This is complicated by the fact that outside of 3rd party options there's not much to spend money on. The DMG (which you should totally ignore) say you shouldn't let them buy magic items, and the common wisdom would say "let them buy a keep", but that solution only appeals a niche selection of adventuring parties.

Using Weath Hurdles turns acquiring gold not just into a quest goal but a gameplay challenge, forcing your party to scour the land for potential sources of wealth (and risk upsetting whoever or whatever happens to be currently holding it) and take on challenges they'd never normally attempt if there was only survival/personal enrichment at stake.

Food for Thought:

Tradional d&d structure has the party getting a huge payout at the end of their adventure in the form of a bosshoard or questgiver reward which is a very backloaded "you can have your dessert after you finish your greens" sort of attitude. Consider switching it up sometimes: have the party's patron or employer give them a small stipend to spend on kitting themselves out, have an early game treasure haul so the party can have a mid-arc shopping episode. This is especially useful in higher level games where your party may go weeks to months without a level up as it preserves the feeling of progression and gives them new toys to play with in between the big character defining abilities.

Recently I've been learning my way around blades in the dark (can't reccomend it enough btw), and just like any other time I've wanted to learn a new ttrpg system I'm having to do a bit of neural rewiring when it comes to figuring out how to write and run sessions of the game. Coin in BitD is both an XP (used for upgrading the party's shared crew sheet) a resource (burned to upgrade the results of various rolls) and a stat ( rolled to see if the players can lay their hands on various hard to come by items). It didn't really click for me until my first group messed up really badly on what was supposed to be their introductory adventure and pissed off the local crimeboss. I was just going to have him bully them, lock them up and then have a jailbreak the next session ( it's what I'd do in d&d), but on the fly I had the idea that he'd let them go with a massive debt they needed to pay off, which forced them to either pay him a percentage of their takings on all future jobs, or do small jobs in utmost secrecy so that they could build up their own strength under his nose.

Interestingly enough, the d&d game where I thought player wealth as a resource was most interestingly used was Dimension 20’s starstruck Odessy, which was a conversion of the amazing fanmade starwars5e system. Starstruck is a parody of hypercapitalism and aptly uses money as both a narrative and gameplay feature. One character is stuck paying weekly insurance premiums on a debt he would never be able to pay down forcing him to act recklessly to acquire wealth in the immediate future. Another character was a economic and political power player and some of the best moments in the series come from her high stakes wheeling and dealing and bouncing money between accounts while the rest of the group engages in epic space battles; the rest of the crew might’ve barely got their ship out of the dogfight, but she’s the one who ensures they can pay for the repairs once they get to the space dock. None of this would be possible without completely ignoring the normal constraints of wealth per level: gaining and losing huge sums based on moment by moment player decisions, The need for them to play along with the absurist gig economy to boost their rating and get better paying jobs, making a devil’s bargain with a corporate sponsor all so that they could risk their lives in a deadly arena fight all for the (very unlikely) chance of winning the equivalent of a million GP. Not every campaign should, or even could so focus on money in this way, but it was FASCINATING to watch it in action.

Artsource

#treasure #dnd #dungeon master tips #dm tips #dm advice #dm tip #adventure design

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anarchy-and-piglins · 2 months

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So, concept for a dark SBI au with that trope I mentioned about SBI literally 'humanizing' Techno.

All of SBI are superheroes. They work for the hero association.

Phil is the oldest on the team. He joined the hero association very early on, wanting to be part of something genuinely exciting and new. And he got to witness firsthand how the association started out with such good intentions, but quickly went the way of all operations that have government and money involved. Despite this, he stays on. Because he wants to make a difference.

Wilbur, his only son, followed in Phil's footsteps. He's a bit of a 'the ends justify the means' guy and does the hero work mostly because he thinks it's fun, but Phil is just proud his son is having a good time while also helping people.

Tommy, youngest on the team, is a real hero. He wants to save people. He's excitable and eager and quick on his feet, and was put in the team because he needs more experienced heroes to balance him out and learn.

And then there's Techno.

Techno is a little different, in that he never chose to become a hero willingly like the other three did. He was raised to be one (think baby experimented on by the association to give him powers, or perhaps just an orphan who was taken in by them when he showed potential). Techno doesn't mind being a hero, he's good at it. He has a strong sense of justice, he's competitive, he likes the hero work itself. It's just that being a hero is also all he's ever known.

The association raised him to be their strongest weapon, their greatest asset.

SBI is pretty insubordinate at times, and cut corners when it comes to the association's protocol. While they deliver good work they also like to do it their way. The association places Techno in their team as the fourth member, hoping that Techno's general sense of duty and calm-under-pressure attitude will do SBI some good.

They will come to regret this decision.

All four of them grow close, and over the span of a few years turn into more of a found family than coworkers. And as this happens, it becomes impossible for SBI not to notice how the association treats Techno differently. He's often pushed harder, and reprimanded worse when things do go wrong. He overworks himself and has been taught to never ask for help, preferring to deal with stuff by himself, even when injured or sick. He's stubborn as a mule too, so he'd never admit this was an issue. When Techno isn't working with them, he's either doing other stuff for the association or training. Techno has no life outside of hero work.

Techno does admit sometimes in conversation that there's other stuff he'd like to do. Maybe in another world where he does not have these powers, he'd be a history or English major. He'd like to try fencing, or gardening, or the violin. He'd read more.

But it is what it is.

SBI disagrees, and try to push Techno (unsuccessfully) into thinking about himself more. The more they start to see Techno as a person, the more it seems like the association doesn't.

Eventually, Phil even goes all the way to the top, complaining to the higher-ups about Techno's situation. They smile wryly, and suggest that maybe Phil has reached an age where hero work isn't for him anymore. He should take their offer of early retirement, before an incident happens and forces Phil to be dishonorably fired.

Phil is outraged, but he does take the offer because he has no choice. Wilbur and Tommy quit on the spot, equally pissed. They want to find Techno and convince him to do the same, but there's a small issue.

Techno doesn't have the same type of contract as them.

While SBI can leave, Techno can't. The hero association owns him in all ways that matter.

Obviously, the association is also quick to kick SBI out and cut off all contact. They tell Techno that Phil asked them to retire because he didn't want to be a hero anymore. And that Tommy and Wilbur chose to quit, not wanting to be on the same team as Techno without Phil around. Techno is very confused. Especially as not long after, SBI returns... as villains.

Now Techno feels confused AND betrayed.

Meanwhile, SBI will stop at nothing to get Techno back, even if it means gradually slipping further and further into villainy. They're completely disillusioned with the hero association anyway. Techno is strong, outpowering even all three of them. It takes a lot for them to finally kidnap Techno after several failed attempts. And when they do, Techno is going to fight them every step of the way. Not to mention the hero association is not going to let them take their treasured weapon easily.

Techno keeps insisting that they're in the wrong, that he'll get away from them, that being a hero is all he's good for, all he's made for. As long as he has these powers, he has an obligation to use them and be a hero.

SBI agrees.

As long as Techno has these powers, he will never be free. He'll never stop seeing them as a duty, and the association will never stop trying to take Techno from them.

Good thing that they've been working on a little something. A serum that will nullify Techno's powers forever. And then he doesn't have to worry about a thing anymore. SBI will take care of him.

Losing his powers is the only way Techno will be happy, even if he doesn't realize that himself.

As they prepare to inject him, they tell Techno what they're about to do. Techno is angry and horrified, and tells them that if they do this, he will never forgive them.

Phil just smiles and says that's a risk they're willing to take.

#technoblade #dark sbi #thoughts #shara writes #I might do a proper fic for this but who knows at this point you know me

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ireadwithmyears · 10 months

Text

address the letters: “to the holes in my butterfly wings”

pairing: Kix and GN padawan reader (platonic)

Word count, guys it’s basically 10 K 💀bc apparently I am in capable of writing anything short.

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and injury, medical procedures

summary:

In which, the CMO of Torrent Company discovers that you, a Padawan under his care have been hiding injuries and skipping medical checks, and now must take care of you as you suffer the consequences of your actions.

Also known as

Why you should never hide an injury from Kix. he will find out, and he will drag you off to the medbay so that he can take care of whatever mess you’ve made of yourself, scolding you all the wile.

“Look what I found on my bunk.”

You’re interrupted from eating your sandwich in the Cantina when Fives plops down beside you at the table, setting down a tray of food and waving a pink slip of paper in your face.

You’re about to tell him that “Can’t you see that you’re eating and get this paper out of my face,” when your eyes catch on three words written in bold text across the top of the page.

Mandatory vaccination updates.

The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.

“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.

“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.

Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..

“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.

Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.

But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.

So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.

Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.

Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.

This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.

Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.

When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago.

But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.

These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.

So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable.

“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.

Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.

In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.

The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.

Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating.

You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.

Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.

When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race.

Shit.

Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.

One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.

His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse.

He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.

“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”

You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.

The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.

“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”

He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.

You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.

“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.

As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.

You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.”

When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.

“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.

Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.

Between the two medics, Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.

Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.

Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.

“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..

You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.

The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to.

Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.

Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.

“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.

“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.

Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength.

“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.

You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.

Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?”

Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.

Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to.

When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence

You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.

“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm.

You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious?

“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.

He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”

You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.

“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”

His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.

By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.

Your arms wrap tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.

Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”

“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart.

“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.

“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.

The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them.

“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.

You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity.

“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice.

“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand.

“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud.

“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.

Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly fear.

He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.

“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.

. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.

“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.

. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.

You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face.

He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt. You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious question by your superiors, and for good reason”

As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.

“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.”

There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race.

These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.

Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.

Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision.

“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.

But he hears you, and it breaks him.

You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm.

His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.

He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.

“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”

“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?”

Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”

He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”

He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.

You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”

Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.”

Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.

Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.

“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”

“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.”

He fixes you with a look.

“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”

“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.

“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”

You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.

He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.”

You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto.

“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.

“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.

Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed.

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”

He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors.

At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”

And because you’re you, you do faint.

The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent, is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it.

It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.

You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.

When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.

The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.

“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.

“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.

Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.

“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.

You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.

That was easy, quick, painless.

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse.

“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic.

“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.

You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.”

“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”

You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.

He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”

The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.

“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”

He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.

“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.

Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.

As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.”

You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.

He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.

“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.

He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.

The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.

“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.

Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.

He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.”

It sounds simple enough.

Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels.

“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”

Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.

When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers.

“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.

You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea.

You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.

Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”

“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”

Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.

He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.”

You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?”

You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.

“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.

“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward.

“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.

You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them.

You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.

“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.

“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.

Your leg hurts.

That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.

“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.

“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him.

“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,”

He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.

Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,”

At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.”

You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.

When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.

Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile.

The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.

“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.

“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.

“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.

“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.

you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.

Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.

His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.

“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions, and it will not happen again, do you understand?”

Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.

Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears.

Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.

.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.

There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside.

So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.

He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.

“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.

More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten. Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.”

Rex begins to make an objection, but Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.

He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.

“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.

“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.

In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.

The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.

Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later.

But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.

He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now, you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”

When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.

Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.

“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.”

His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.

“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.

His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.

“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.

Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.

If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”

“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”

The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.

“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.

Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.

“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.

As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.

In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.”

It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching.

What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected.

You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”

“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”

You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..

“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”

************************* thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.

Mandoa translations. Kaysh mirsh solus, they are stupid/foolish. Ori’vod: Big Brother (in this instance) can also be used as big sister or big sibling. Ni ceta: i’m sorry. Vod: Brother/ sister/ sibling. Adika: little one. Vod’ika: Little sister, little brother, or little sibling Haar’chak: damm it. Di’kut: Fool (literal translation is underwear forgeter) which kills me. Osi’yaim: shithead. Osik: shit.

#star wars x reader #kix x reader #platonic #reader insert #gn reader #padawan reader #fives x reader #anakin x reader #rex x reader #kix #clone medic kix #arc trooper fives #captain rex #Anakin Skywalker #the clone wars fanfiction #platonic imagine #tcw fanfiction #star wars fanfiction

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blessedbygookim · 4 months

Text

The Queen Of Busan.

Part one: the meeting.

Part two: defeated.

Part three: UNDER EDITING.

16 year old Gun and Goo getting they asses whooped.

It must be done by someone. Sorry, not sorry.

That meeting happened one week ago.

Since then, they did some digging, although not finding out much. Her last name is unknown, so is where she is from originally and so her fighting prowess, which wasn't just a pain in the ass, but also unfortunate, adding to the mystery of the girl.

All they found out, is that she’s is 19 years old, same age as Sinu Han, meaning she is a part of the first generation.

Now they both sit in front of Charles Choi, in the rundown shack that he has been hiding at for a good while now. Gun is sitting in a pretzel, back straightened with his usual seriousness, and Goo is slightly slouched over in a more relaxed manner.

"So the strongest person in Busan is a woman... and she refused to join the Four Major Crews?"

Charles asks as his eyes dart between both younger man.

Gun sighs, finally speaking up as he rubs his temples, the memory of the meeting still giving him a headache.

"Not only that: she outright refused to help us in any way, shape, or form. I guess we're gonna have to try and find another business to extort."

Goo nods his head, remembering how his shot was shut down so fast.

Yes, that was his biggest concern.

His eyes dart between Charles and his partner as they speak. There is a tinge of disappointment stirring up in his chest, she could've been a fantastic asset to the crew with her smarts and charm.

And money, of course.

"Might I add, she seems to have taken some of Big Deal's territory under her control as well in the meantime. She seems surprisingly influential in the country as a whole, like scattered bubbles rising on surface, popping up everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if she started taking over more businesses in the meanwhile."

Gun continues his train of thought.

"Jake Kim, and her have made an alliance and she's helping Big Deal and its street... so in a sense she is working for us... Not directly, but she is of help... she seems to have a soft spot for Big Deal, you can't deny her abilities and influence."

Goo thinks over Gun's words as he speaks, unable to argue with his logic in that regard. He sighs as he places a hand on his hip, his other hand pushing his glasses up slightly.

Maybe the reason why she gets along so well with Jake and the Big Deal members...well, with most; because eventually her goals and their goals are the same.

Protect.

Big Deal is the epitome of being a family, filled with passion. No wonder how well she gets along with them, and took it upon herself out of the goodness of her own heart to help them run their businesses on Big Deal's street.

"If her soft spot gives us a loophole from which we can exploit, I don't have a problem with her having a soft spot for Big Deal. That just makes it easier for us to take advantage of.”

Gun concludes, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he speaks, looking over at Charles expectantly.

Still, Charles lets out a small grunt.

"Even if she's in an alliance with Big Deal, and as much as their sales went up, one single business of hers in Busan makes 3 times more than Big Deal alone. We need her businesses."

When Charles says his thoughts out loud, Gun can't help but have his eye twitch slightly, his eyebrow raising at his words. Both knowing exactly what Charles is saying but still having the same thoughts they've had before: this Nova woman is not making their job easy by any means.

"As beneficial as having her businesses for you would be, you've heard how quickly she shut us down. The woman said herself that she wanted to remain uninvolved in anything relating to either or any of us. It would take a miracle if she is somehow convinced to cooperate with us in any way."

Goo lets out an agreeing groan, nodding in agreement with his partner.

"Before I make a decision, tell me more about this woman."

Charles utters as he looks off, pondering, ready to hear what they know so far of Nova.

Both of them sigh and cross their arms, their faces giving off an air of disappointment and irritation.

"All we were able to get from what research we did and since the brief meeting we had with her was her age: 19, her place of birth: unknown, and so is her last name."

Gun lists off as he closes his eyes momentarily, his voice carrying an irritated tone to it as he speaks.

“She's literally running dozens of businesses with a perfect 0% corruption rate. She's also incredibly smart and charismatic, her charisma and kindness alone is already enough to make anyone obey her immediately."

Goo continues with a tone more carefree, perhaps a little more boastful than intended.

"Zero corruption, no shady business practices... a kind person in a world of grime..."

Charles repeats his words, trailing off as he visibly ponders, rubbing his bearded chin.

"A gentle heart like hers won't survive for too long in this world. We should teach her that lesson sooner rather than later."

Gun can't help the small, sadistic chuckle he lets out at Charles' words, his mood instantly shifting into amusement as soon as he hears the other man's plans. He always admired when Charles had his ruthless tendencies come out, it always was interesting to see.

"Especially since she's the Queen of Busan. Who would've thought someone her age would be able to take over such a large city on their own? It's both hilarious and admirable at the same time really."

Goo immediately frowns again as he hears Charles and Gun say such things, he's not afraid to admit it but he genuinely feels protective of this woman now.

"I don't know how you plan to teach a woman like that a lesson in this world, she's like an absolute angel of light. You can see in her eyes just how kind she truly is, we should really be careful before she shows us how dark she can be behind that bright exterior.”

To his words, Charles sends Goo an empty stare, and Gun nudges him softly with his shoulder.

"Joongoo, you should drop your personal feelings towards the girl. This is only business."

They were both all about business and raking in the money, empathy had no place in their plans. In the world of HNH group, there is no such thing as kindness, there isn't any place for a soft soul here. Even though from a moral standpoint Gun also happened to take a liking to the girl, his loyalty towards Charles Choi was still far greater.

But Goo will make sure to keep her in his thoughts regarding his own future.

Charles' words and the way both he and Gun look at him make him let out a defeated sigh, a hand rubbing his hair in frustration.

"Fine... you guys win, I'll try to keep my thoughts on her to a minimum. Doesn't change the fact that she's absolutely perfect though, the way she could've easily won that fight in the restaurant, the way she stood up to both of us... I guess it's hard for me to not be slightly entranced by her."

Goo admits with a slight shrug.

This was expected from him, all Gun can do is mentally roll his eyes.

"Enlighten me on her fighting prowess then.”

As that question slips from the man's mouth, both of the boys glance at each other.

Even as Gun remembers back at how taken aback he felt when she managed to throw a fork perfectly aimed at his eye and how it pierced his sunglasses, he cannot help but shiver at the sheer agility she displayed out of nowhere in that moment. But other than her terrifying aura in that moment and her precision, and speed, not much else is known. It's really a mystery how this 19 year old woman became who she is.

Goo’s eyes light up the very second Charles asks what her fighting prowess is, smile widening with excitement as he really has been itching to start talking about just how insanely talented Nova really is. He starts off almost before Charles had even finished in asking his question.

"Her precision, agility, and speed are on a whole other level. A normal human shouldn't even be able to accomplish a fraction of what she's capable of. It’s safe to say to admit that she might be on the same level as Gun and I."

Goo was nothing further than ecstatic, having a free opportunity to flap his guns.

“She whipped a fork at him and it pierced right through his sunglasses, but just enough to not actually pierce his eyes. She seems to have the speed and agility of a cheetah while having the precision of a sniper. She's a true, perfect masterpiece in a woman's body."

Charles ponders for another minute, humming once to himself as he shifts his eyes back on the two in front of him.

"So she's quick... but speed is nothing if she doesn't have the power. I will send a crew to ransack some of her businesses."

Goo can't help but feel iffy about the situation, he felt a strange feeling welling inside him as Charles says that. But ultimately, he isn't surprised by his plan. He had been a part of so many of Charles' plans over time, so it was no surprise to him that his plan to get Nova to cooperate involved violence. His face immediately goes neutral again as he remembers that there is no place for empathy here. It was all about business and profits for this organization and they couldn't let this woman get in their way of that. Or is how he tried to soothe his nerves with.

While Gun's face hardens, he nods his head. They both know what the outcome of all this will be in that regard.

"That would be wise, her businesses would be completely defenseless. Even if fast, speed is nothing if it doesn't have the power backing it."

So sending a few men he did. An hour and a half passed since then, and there was still no update about how it all has progressed.

Goo fiddles with his thumb with his lips pursed as he sits on a bench. Eyes casted on the pavement as they're now outside of the house, as Gun smoked a cigarette.

"I've never been so conflicted about something like such before...”

Goo mutters out, glancing at Gun who seemed as unbothered as ever.

Though Goo's words made him wonder what was really going on here. Was Goo getting soft on them? Or was his loyalty to the organization getting less and less? He didn't have the answer to that but one thing was for sure, he needed to shut Goo up before he started acting too soft.

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting now? I can literally hear you overthinking it. You aren't actually soft for her, right?"

Gun questions with a slight tone of menace, taking another exhale of his cigarette as he gives him a hard look, his eyebrow rising just slightly.

"... I don't know...or at least I don't think so." Goo shrugs, his mind for sure running marathons. "I know we've also done the same with countless businesses all throughout South-Korea without any remorse and whatsoever... this is the first time I feel like we wronged the nicest person in the worst way possible."

Gun was starting to get a little worried now, Goo was beginning to let his feelings influence him. It was only natural since this woman was so kind and empathetic, but that kind of quality was not welcome in the world of gangs. If he let this get to him anymore, he could very well turn against them. He didn't want to have to deal with dealing with Goo's betrayal as well. This is honestly starting to get ridiculous to him, he's never seen his partner get so upset over something like this before.

"It was inevitable that we were going to have to do that. You already know that her kindness wouldn't keep her alive in this world, so I don't know what you're so worried about. It's nothing we haven't done to anyone else before."

Goo lets out an exhausted sigh as he leans back on the bench, staring up at the sky.

"I just have a bad feeling about this, is all..."

Gun's eyebrow raises slightly, slowly raising a hand and rubbing the bridge of his nose as he just lets out a groan of frustration.

"Listen, I've been working with you long enough now to know when you get these ‘bad feelings’ about stuff. If you're worried then we'll just go over there ourselves, how about that? If we deal with some of the trouble on our own, it might get that bad feeling out of your system and get you to calm down again."

"Fine..."

The blonde mutters out with a slight pout, sitting up slowly.

As soon as Gun finished his tangent, is the same moment he gets a message to get back in. His expression lights up as he hears that they finally have an update, him reaching down and stomping his cigarette into oblivion with his hand as he looks over at Goo with a confident look on his face.

"We have updates on the situation. Come on."

As he speaks, Gun looks over at Goo for just a small moment before he turns back around and starts walking and Goo follows with a crease between his eyebrows..

The crease between his eyebrows deepen even more when they step foot into the office. Gun is getting a little worried, he has never seen his boss so puzzled and taken aback in a good while. They could tell by his facial expressions, and the uneasy atmosphere as well with the tension now rising up in the room.

"The men I have sent have been defeated in every bar, store and establishment of hers. None of my men could return."

Once they hear those words from Charles, their eyes both widen in disbelief and shock. Both of them stare at the older man in disbelief as the two of them stand with dumbfounded looks on their faces.

"You're saying... nobody came back?"

Gun questions slowly, blinking slowly at Charles as he lets what he had just said sink in, his eyebrow raising in complete bewilderment as does Goo's, hardly able to suppress the smirk that was threatening to stretch out on his face.

"Her men has single handedly defeated all and everyone... and apparently it was her alone who took out my most skilled men by herself... Not only her men are skilled, but so is she. I did not expect that at all."

Charles mutters out with a groan. Eyes closing with his brows knitted together, clearly frustrated at the turn of events, and the smirk now fully lifted both corners of his lips when he hears the news that it was Nova that did all that, but Gun's expression looks much less enthusiastic.

"That’s sounds unbelievable.."

Gun mumbles out with a baffled look on his face, his shoulders rising as he gives Charles a look of shock, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Either way, desperate times call for desperate measures." Charles responds, eyes opening with a furious glint in them. "I will send the two of you and a few more men to dissect the whole of her businesses in the city. Attacking from all and every angles. Your main target is Nova. Finish the job for me, and make sure to break that woman in so she has no other choice but to oblige."

The two boys were monsters for a reason. The best of the best, if not the best, among all of the Ten Geniuses as of yet. The two of them should have no problem taking down one single person so she has no choice to bend to their will at the end.

As soon as Charles's words finish, Goo's face pales slightly as he looks over at Gun beside him, the two of them staring at each other for just a moment as they absorb the message that Charles had just given them.

"We got it, we won't let you down, Sir..."

Goo replies calmly, the two of them giving Charles a calm, collected look, his words sounding far too calm for the situation that they had been handed.

"Go now. I believe the two of you should be able to handle her. The other men I have sent are already in Busan. If everything goes as planned this time, it will only be her left.”

Both of the boys give a single nod of understanding to the instructions, and with that they both walk out of the room without another word, leaving Charles alone as they go get prepared for their trip to Busan.

"Alright, looks like we're headed back to Busan."

Goo comments as he looks over at Gun, a slight smirk on his face.

"You seem way too excited to see her even under these circumstances..."

Gun comments, eyeing him suspiciously, but shakes his head softly at the end.

Even though Goo is somewhat excited, he can't help but feel a ripple of fear run through him. As much as he had some personal feelings for the girl, her skills were still unknown.

The blonde just grins even more when Gun remarks about how excited he looks to see Nova again, him just giving the other a playful roll of the eyes in response.

"Hey, you know me, I like strong women. And a woman like her? Well, she's a whole other level of powerful... and a whole lot sexier too-"

"Whatever, just make sure you focus. Idiot."

He lets out a laugh, the tension melting away as they begin to focus on what they need to do instead of their emotions.

Maybe an hour later as they arrive in Busan, the atmosphere certainly doesn't feel as welcoming as the last time.

There is a certain tension in the air all around, the clouds are more gray, and the streets are eerily empty.

"Why did you bring a katana...?"

Gun asks Goo, spotting the weapon on his back in its sheath.

The latter just smiles when the questions is thrown his way, a smug look on his face.

"What? I wanted to make sure I'm extremely well equipped. Plus, I'm a man of style, and what's even more stylish than a Katana, right?”

He says in his usual, laid-back tone, his eyes filled with glee and excitement as they approach Nova's buildings.

"You're annoying.." Gun rolls his eyes at that as they keep walking through the streets, muttering under his breath.- "It's just a girl going on a rampage anyway... nothing more, nothing less."

Perhaps his own delusions will also calm his own discomfort as well about the situation. If only he knew what they were really in for, he'd have probably been much less dismissive.

"You said it, White Ghost. Just a simple girl on a rampage, nothing to worry about, right?~"

Goo chuckles out, his pace remaining steady as he walks along beside Gun, giving him a laid-back look as the two of them approach Nova's buildings. Gun's words actually got his nerves to calm down a little bit, if he started to think of her as just a woman then it would be easier to deal with her…But that woman is far from just a normal woman, even if Gun doesn't believe that she is, he did.

They remain mostly silent for the rest of the walk, as they approach their first location. The bars and establishments were all filled with all Charles' men taken out. Bodies upon bodies, the eerie smell of blood a little too strong for their likings. Goo noticed a pattern with all of the locations they went to so far, it was the same thing everywhere. The whole location would look trashed, bodies lying around, and yet the woman herself was no where to be found.

"God damn... this isn't just rampage, but a straight up massacre..."

Goo exclaims softly, nose pinched together as he nudges a body with his foot

"It's a damn bloodbath..."

Gun mutters out, looking around the room at all the men sprawled on the ground, their bodies looking beaten into a pulp as his expression darkens slightly at the sight of it all.

"It might be a good idea if we stick together, this chick isn't someone to mess with alone. We need to stay together at all times if we don't wanna end up like these guys are."

"Yeah, let's leave now, it smells like straight up death in here..."

Goo mutters out a response, leaving the establishment first.

Until nothing else but the restaurant where they first met a week ago remain.

The moment they enter the street, is the moment it all becomes so real.

Trails of blood scattered all around the road and pavement. Bodies mutelated, mauled, Goo swears he just saw a body torn in half from the jaw down. A cold shiver creeps up their necks, especially when their eyes land on the person they have been looking for all along.

Standing in the sea of bodies is Nova. White dress stained with blood, hands covered in the same crimson substance up to her elbows, skin and flesh under her nails. Hair disheveled, an eerily blank face paired with a blood thirsty gaze as her eyes glow luminously white. Barefoot as she stands, emitting nothing but a pressuring aura.

"Well... isn't she beautiful?"

Goo remarks, his eyes locked onto her just a few feet away, a smirk forming on his face as he looks at her blank expression combined with the blood- thirsty look in her glowing white eyes.

...is he dumb?

"You did... all of this?"

Gun aims his question towards the woman, who slowly turns her head towards their direction.

Goo's heart almost drops right out of his asshole, smirk faltering lightly.

She definitely wasn’t as happy to see them again as he was..

She lets out a long exhale, breath so warm the fog of it filters visibility into the frigid air... and it wasn't even winter time.

“So it was you two behind this all along... huh?..”

She asks, tone empty. Monotone, no hint of emotions in her words, but the way she was practically staring at Gun like he was a prey about to be hunted down, told them more than enough

"Guilty as charged.~"

Goo replies with a chuckle, his smirk still plastered on his face as he looks at the girl, a gleeful tone in his voice. Gun looks just as confident, staring at Nova.

"Don't take this personally, it's nothing but business."

Gun states firmly, his eyebrow raising slightly as he keeps his expression calm, his hand slowly moving to grab a pack of cigarettes.

He could barely take the pack out of his pocket, his eyes widening. As the last syllable leaves his lips is the same moment she lunges towards him like a catapult. Arms extended, nails looking like they're about to tear him into shreds.

Gun barely manages to dive away just as she reaches him, rolling over the ground before he looks up at her once again, his eyes flashing with both surprise and amusement as she skids away slightly, nails digging into the concrete, ploughing it up.

"Oh, that was fast..."

He mutters under his breath as he pushes himself up to his feet, his eyes locked on her with a determined gaze.

"Fast?? It was like she teleported the fuck??"

Goo was horrified by the speed she moved with and it almost got him shocked into not knowing what to do next.

While still on the ground, she digs her limbs into the pavement to use as leverage to catapult a flying split kick used in Kyokushin Karate to send a heavy blow towards Goo this time as she flips with her leg extended.

Taken aback by the sheer velocity that simple kick had, he manages to block it above his head with his arms crossed, making him grimace, he for sure hasn't felt a blow this heavy, in a long while.

He for sure felt and heard his bones crack, a hiss of pain escaping his lips while he grimaces slightly, giving Nova a look of disbelief.

"That actually hurt..."

He mutters softly to himself, his eyes remaining locked on her even as he takes a step back, trying to ignore the pain in his arms as Gun suddenly takes a step towards Nova, trying to land a punch at her from behind.

While foot still printed hard against the blonde's arm, the other top of her feet lock behind Gun's head after he is in closer proximity, she now uses them as a lunch pad to push herself away, not just dodging his punch, but in the mean time making them headbutt each other. Hard.

Letting out a shout of pain in unison as they both smash their heads into each other, their faces colliding in a brutal collision as they both stagger back, a pained look on both of their faces.

"God damn it...."

Goo mutters under his breath as he holds his head in his hands, Gun doing the same as he slowly wipes the small trickle of blood flowing from his nose.

Charging at her the same time, their fight continues.

Unfortunately to them, one sidedly for the most duration of the time.

Neither of them seen someone who has so many martial arts abilities, skills and techniques under their belts. Some they haven't even experienced before.

Sheer power and skills blending perfectly. Speed almost teleportational, countless times disappearing out of their peripheral visions just to appear right behind them, and send such blows that stung like needles, or were heavy like tons of weight were just dropped on them. Every move is impossible to expect and predict, every move she makes sends shivers down their spine.

It was like she was the perfect mix of all the fighters they have since met, be it in the second or first generation.

"DUDE JUST LAND A PUNCH!"

Goo exclaims in a hastily manner, in the midst of throwing his own heavy blow, only for his wrist to be grabbed, his own flow of power be turned against him as she makes him eat hard concrete, the pavement denting under him, almost swallowing him up whole.

"I'm trying!!"

Gun shouts loudly, his voice filled with a mix of both impatience and frustration, his expression desperate as he tries to come up with some sort of a plan.

Deciding to just straight up go for it, at this time not really having even a second to spare, and throws a straight blow her way, it was scary, with how much ease she evades it, almost like flowing with the air.

“Leave.”

She speaks as takes a very firm hold of them both, flipping them in the air and slam them back down into the pavement by their throats.

“Leave Busan and never return.”

Hoisting them up in the air in the midst of their concussion, not even giving them a chance to recover, kicking them both down once again like a soccer ball, Gun flying right into a brick wall, and Goo eats concrete once again a few feet away.

“This is my city.”

Both men lay motionless on the ground, clearly beaten, still for several moments, trying to process and recover from the beating they've just received, before eventually Gun lifts his head up a bit, a pained but satisfied expression on his face as he pushes himself up onto his knees.

"Damn... I don't think... I've ever been beaten like that..."

He mutters softly, his breath coming out in labored puffs with a wide smile, the pain making it hard for him to form a coherent thought, other than knowing it felt exhilarating.

She's far beyond human at this point, she isn't someone to be underestimated at all.

While taking steps closer to Gun specifically, the only thing he can do at this point is just to watch her near, and attack when the time is right.

“I will not let you destroy what I have created.”

She utters out flatly, a hand inching towards Gun's face slowly.

“Cool eyes... mind if I take them as souvenirs?”

A look of disbelief and horror appear on Gun's face the moment he hears those words, his eyes widening slightly as he hears Nova's intentions. It's clear that both of them have never met someone stronger than them until now, never even considered such a possibility before this moment. Without much time to react, Gun tries to dodge back, but she's too fast, her hand grabbing his face in one quick, swift, almost instantaneous move.

He sits knees on the ground, jaw almost breaking in her grasp,looking at her like she's some kind of otherworldly monster, as he starts to wonder if he will even be able to hold out any longer.

This was a feeling neither of them were used to at all. Gun had never truly experienced fear like this before from a fight with someone, he always knew that no matter what he could always win. He always had such confidence that he would always win, but this time he was genuinely afraid. She didn't just overpower them. This time, they were completely outmatched. They were the prey and she was the predator in this situation. In that moment, all the cockiness and arrogance he usually possessed was gone, replaced with pure dread. This wasn't just a girl on a rampage, she was a monster.

Meanwhile, Goo, although going in an out of consciousness, and through gritted teeth as he already feels all and every bone in his body broken, the moment he notices the woman standing above Gun's body, is the same moment in a blink of an eye, he rushes forward.

Katana pulled out of its case, a deadly glint in his eyes as he makes one swift moment, stabbing the girl right through her abdomen from the front as he now suddenly stands behind Gun.

Perhaps his katana and swordsmanship actually came into good use.

For a moment, it looked as though Goo had managed to land a decisive blow...

But her expression made it clear. She wasn't even phased by it, her face remaining as blank and expressionless as ever as she simply turns her head to look back down at Goo, who was now staring back up at her in shock and disbelief.

"Oh... I am so fucked."

Are his only words as she takes a step forward.

Yes, forward.

While the blade still piercing right through her, discarding Gun aside like a measly ragdoll as she walks even deeper into the blade, and grips the sharp edge with her hand so he can't even think about moving the blade any way.

Of course nothing budges. Every time he tries to push her, or lever her off the blade, she doesn't even move at all. Not with her holding the shaft of it with such grip it was denting the metal. She doesn't look in any pain, or even show any reaction at all. She just keeps moving forward slowly despite the huge blade piercing into her stomach.

In fact, as she slowly pushes forward, the sound of the katana tearing through flesh can be heard in the empty city street, making both Goo and Gun tense up as a look of realization passes through their expressions.

What the hell was this woman made of...??

Blade broken by the tight grip of her hand after it had enough of warping and twisting her other hand is already up in the air. Hands flat like a spear, extended, ready to strike.

What happened after that is unclear.

After several moments, it was over. Goo and Gun both lay on the ground motionless, both of them completely unconscious and completely beaten for the first time in their lives. Everything hurt, and the shock from the whole ordeal was weighing heavy on them.

It went against everything they believed had ever known in their lives, the belief that no matter what, they would always win. But she changed that belief forever. Now, they would live the rest of their lives knowing someone more powerful and stronger than them was out there somewhere.

It is a story no one really talks about, since how unbelievable it sounds.

Two of the best, most powerful fighters in SK getting taken down by none other than a woman, in mere minutes.

Perhaps that was a good choice, that no one mentioned it since then, and did their best to keep it a secret. At least some of their ego stayed in tact, but couldn't help how bruised, and a broken they both felt after that.

#big deal IS my softspot idc #my literal roman empire #lookism webtoon #comics #goo kim #webtoon #gun park #lookism fanfic #lookism x reader #goo kim x reader #lookism #gun park x reader #gungoo #charles choi #four major crews #big deal #jake kim #queen of busan

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