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lesbiankimdahyun · 6 months

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Hi! can I request a poly misamo (mimo g!p) with vampire mina, werewolf momo, and succubus sana (if you’re not comfy with writing succubus, pls feel free to change or remove it) where they meet at a bar then start flirting until they end up fucking in sana’s house? Momo being turned on at their scents bc of her sensitive nose, mina teasing them both with her fangs, and sana’s dirty talk making mimo even harder. Thank you and happy halloween!

enjoy! here's part one :)

Devil's Night

3.5k words

CW: GP, vampires, werewolves, demons, Sana has some maybe questionable supernatural abilities when it comes to getting her way...

[GP!Vampire!Mina x Succubus!Sana x GP!Werewolf!Momo]

There were, at any given moment, only a handful of safe bars in the city for undiscovered monsters, folkloric creatures and hybrids to congregate for a drink without fearful, judgmental stares from the rest of the human population.

But in the days leading up to Halloween, it was a little easier to slip undetected among the throngs of people out celebrating.

It was Devil's Night, the night before Halloween, and Mina felt an invisible, out of character pull toward the dark club she now found herself walking into in the district of the city most known for its vibrant nightlife. The throb of the heavy bass hit her eardrums at the same time her vampiric senses detected the astounding number of beating hearts inside. Once inside, Mina flocked to the bar on the main level and watched the crowd around her with rapt fascination: the shadows of happy, drunken people with sweating drinks in hand, the way lasers and lights hit their faces every so often, the way they erupted in cheers when they recognized the remixed versions of Rezz, Hante and darkwave pop songs that played overhead.

At the bar, she ordered a glass of ice. The bartender gave her a funny look. “No water?” he’d asked, but complied. Shortly after receiving her cup of ice, Mina headed for the bathroom.

She ducked into a stall quickly, keeping her face out of view as best she could to avoid the mirrors in front of the sinks as girls nearby touched up their makeup, took selfies and washed their hands. No one noticed her, though. She emerged from the stall shortly after, knowing whoever cleaned up was going to get a real Halloween fright when they found the drained bag of donated blood in the trash receptacle reserved for menstruation products.

Mina weaved her way back to the bar with her glass in hand. She normally preferred her blood warm and from a willing, living source, but if she wanted to blend in, it needed to look like a dark mixed drink, so she settled for sipping O negative on ice through a straw so it wouldn’t stain her lips and alarm anyone close to her. She wasn’t opposed to drinking alcohol, but alcohol lowered her inhibitions, and right now she needed help to resist the club full of living juice boxes: people full of an array of blood types, some regular and some spiked– those that had all sorts of fun, illicit substances in their systems.

The vampire licked her lips absentmindedly and staked out a new seat toward the end of the bar, away from the guy who had taken her order. The number of people coming in to dance kept rising. Usually the vampire avoided this kind of environment, but there really was some sort of magnetic attraction to the space she couldn’t shake off. She wanted to stay a little longer.

She swiveled around on the bar stool, thinking about taking a look at the Halloween drink specials, only to bump into someone next to her.

“Oh,” she said softly, then found her voice over the blaring club music, “Sorry!”

The woman who she had bumped into turned around. “No worries!” she said, offering Mina a smile.

Mina, had she still been human, knew her heart rate would’ve spiked after taking in the woman’s appearance. She was stunning. As the woman smiled, the vampire found the corners of her own mouth turning up, too.

The stranger beside her was everything Mina wasn’t: warm, athletic and rugged. She was dressed as a sexy zookeeper in short khaki shorts, a suggestively unbuttoned khaki shirt with multiple pockets, and a red bandana around her neck. A pair of high heeled Timberland boots finished off her look. Her stylish, shaggy wolf cut framed her face perfectly, and Mina couldn’t help but notice just how well toned the woman’s body was.

“Wow,” the other woman spoke, giving Mina a not-so-subtle once over. “You must need, like, SPF 500.”

Mina blinked at the other woman. Then she remembered how pale she must’ve looked in comparison. Lacking a reflection (save for when she looked in ponds, lakes, or full bathtubs) made it hard to remember what her features looked like to other people. “Oh,” she said, looking down at her drink. “Uh, yeah, kinda.”

Momo offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she said. “I just meant, like— you’re really pretty, is what I’m trying to say.”

Mina perked up a bit at that. “Thank you,” she said, allowing herself to look up into the woman’s golden eyes. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Momo,” the woman said, switching her drink to her left hand and extending her right out to shake. Mina took it and their touch was like fire meeting ice. She knew her hands were cold all the time, but this woman’s hand seemed far warmer than a normal human’s. Mina’s mouth watered a little, detecting Momo’s steady pulse quickly.

“And you are?”

The vampire shook off her blood-centered thoughts. “I’m Mina,” she said, offering a shy smile.

“Oh wow, your fangs are great!” Momo said, leaning in as Mina spoke. “And your contacts— where did you find red-rimmed ones? I love a good vampire costume.”

Mina blushed. “I um, I have a friend who does special fx makeup,” she said quickly. It was a complete lie, but what other choice did she have? She never revealed herself during fleeting encounters with humans.

“Yours are really nice, too,” the vampire added, nodding toward Momo’s eyes. “What a pretty golden color.”

It was Momo’s turn to freeze for a moment. “Oh these– I mean, thank you,” she said, taking a sip of her drink quickly.

Mina didn’t miss the awkward beat and felt bad. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to make you self conscious.”

Momo leaned in a little closer, brushing her arm against Mina’s. “No! No, not at all,” she said, thinking quickly, “Just– forgot I was wearing them,” she said with a nervous laugh.

Mina was about to ask if she could buy her a drink when a voice behind them interrupted.

“Wow, you two have got to be the hottest couple here.”

Momo and Mina both turned around to find a dizzyingly pretty stranger before them. She was some sort of demon, it appeared, but a slutty version. The two tried their best not to let their eyes linger for too long, but it was hard not to stare.

The mystery woman wore ripped black thigh high stockings secured with black garters and recognizable red-bottomed black heels. A shiny black bodysuit covered her top half, but left plenty to the imagination with a criss-cross cutout running down from the top to the middle of the suit. She wore a tattered black cape that barely covered her ass, her deep red lipstick matched the back of her heels, and the dark, almost ombré-esque horns on top of her head were the perfect finishing touch. They looked sturdy and quite well made.

“Oh,” Mina said, recovering first while Momo’s jaw hung slightly slack. “We’re– we’re not a couple.” She noticed that the new woman’s ears were slightly pointed, too, and wondered what kind of prosthetics she was using.

The demon girl seemed unphased. “Oh, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice as sweet as it was sultry. “Saves me from embarrassing myself and hitting on both of you, then.”

It was then that Momo finally found her voice. “You can hit on us,” she blurted.

A small smile crossed the demon’s lips as Momo blushed instantly. “I mean, I-I can’t speak for Mina but…”

The demon’s eyebrows went up. “So you do know each other?”

Mina watched the girl curiously. “Barely,” she piped up. She felt strangely compelled to keep this conversation going. Despite not caring what most people thought of her, she wanted this girl to like her. “We just met.”

The woman hummed thoughtfully. “I see,” she said, a playful smile still present. “Well if either of you are interested…I’m heading to the bar on the upper level,” she said, flicking her eyes up to the more secluded lounge upstairs.

“Isn’t that VIP?” Momo asked. “I uh, I don’t think I can get in there.”

“Me either,” Mina said, taking a sip of her chilled blood. She gripped her glass a little tighter while she eyed the demon girl’s exposed upper thighs, trying her best not to think about femoral arteries.

“I can get you in,” the woman shrugged. “It’s no trouble,” she said, eyes roaming over the two of them. “Really.”

Momo and Mina looked at each other. Momo had an amused smile on her face now, and Mina noticed the shade of gold her eyes had been a minute ago was now a little darker. Mina’s breath caught. Colored contacts didn’t normally change color. She couldn’t be inhuman too, could she..?

“I’m in,” Momo said, interrupting Mina’s train of thought. “Mina?”

Mina looked at the two women in front of her. She knew she shouldn’t. It was risky and there was no guarantee that even if things went her way, that either of them would be into what she told humans was her “severe blood play kink.” But getting a drink with two women, especially ones this attractive, was too tempting to pass up. Isn’t this the point of Devils’ Night? she asked herself. To take advantage of the lifting of the veil between her world and humans’?

“Okay,” she said, surprising herself and sliding off of the bar stool.

The horned demon led the way through the crowd of dancing people in costumes of all kinds. Momo followed after, with Mina bringing up the rear. At the top of the stairs, the entrance to the lounge, a burly security guard stopped them. “If you don’t have wristbands already, I’ll need names to confirm you on my list,” he said gruffly.

“Minatozaki Sana,” the demon said sweetly, twirling some of her long, dark hair around her finger. The guard went to check the guest list pulled up on his phone, but she touched his arm lightly, making him look up at her first. “There should be two guests as well,” she said, smiling at him.

The guard looked at her. He paused for a moment, then blinked. “Two guests,” he repeated monotonously, putting his phone away and allowing them in. He didn’t even check the list.

Momo and Mina exchanged awe-struck glances before following after her. The second level of the club was much less crowded. The lighting was more dim too, but Mina had no trouble seeing in the dark. It looked like Momo had adjusted just fine, too, as the demon led them to a secluded area around the corner.

She chose a table that had a long booth on one side and chairs on the other. Momo slid into the booth first, followed by Sana. Mina was going to snag one of the chairs, but was stopped.

“Sit next to me?” the demon girl asked. It was a suggestion, but Mina’s body reacted as if it were a command and she found herself nodding, abandoning the chair and sliding in next to her so Sana was in the middle.

Sana beamed. “Are you thirsty?” she asked the two of them.

“I can get us some drinks,” Momo offered, moving to get up, but Sana shook her head.

“No, no, you stay here,” she said, and Momo stayed put.

“Excuse me?” the demon said, catching the attention of a passing staff member.

Minutes later, two rounds of shots were delivered to their table, on the house, despite the fact that this was very much not one of those clubs with table service or an establishment that gave drinks out for free.

“Whoa,” Momo said as they each were presented with glasses of water, slotted spoons, two sugar cubes, and two small glasses of curiously green liquor. “Do you like, know the owner or something?”

Sana laughed, wetting the sugar cubes for the three of them so they would start to drip into the green liquid. “Something like that. I’m Sana, by the way,” she said.

Momo and Mina introduced themselves again, taking in their new environment. Away from the heavier crowds, Momo’s hypersensitive nose wasn’t so overloaded with surrounding scents. She watched as the sugar dissolved through the slotted spoon, disappearing into the drink. She brought it up to her nose and sniffed lightly. It smelled unlike anything she’d ever tasted before.

The vampire, on the other hand, recognized it almost immediately.

“Absinthe? Mina asked curiously.

“Very good,” Sana said. “Fitting for Devil's Night, don’t you think?”

Momo hummed, but Mina looked a little anxious. “Devil's Night?” she asked. “You’re…familiar?”

Sana shrugged. “Quite,” she said. “I like to celebrate by window shopping along all of the clubs in the city. If one looks good enough, sometimes I’ll drop in.”

The vampire picked up her glass and took a sip. She couldn’t believe Sana had ordered two for each of them. The unmistakable anise and fennel flavors took over her tongue immediately. There was no way she was going to finish both given how strong they were.

Then she frowned. It was like she was only now understanding what Sana had just said.

“Window shop?” Mina asked, puzzled by the woman’s choice of words. “For what?”

“A treat, of course,” Sana said, offering no further explanation. She looked between the two of them. “What about you two?” she asked. “Here for Devil's Night or just having a fun Halloweekend?”

Momo’s face reddened a little. “I’m…uh, Devils’ Night,” she said.

Sana’s eyes flicked over to Mina. They seemed to look straight into Mina’s soul, or lack thereof while she waited for her to answer.

“Same here,” Mina said quickly, hoping the follow up question wasn’t going to be ‘Why?’

“I thought you both might be,” Sana said, pausing to drink some of her absinthe. She had long, black acrylic nails that she now tapped thoughtfully on the side of her glass. “Forgive me for asking so soon after meeting, but how do we smell to you, Momo?” she asked with a grin, making the athletic girl nearly choke.

“S-smell?” Momo asked nervously, tugging at the bandana around her neck a little. She almost reminded Mina a little bit of Scooby Doo in her mannerisms.

Sana put a hand on Momo’s thigh and leaned in toward her neck. “I’ve always been curious to know what a vampire smells like, if anything, to a werewolf.”

Mina’s eyes widened at that and she slid out of the booth with lightning speed at the same time Momo was scrambling to get up on the other end.

Sana just laughed, taking another sip of her drink. “Relax,” she said, checking out her nails casually. “I’m not a threat. And I’m not human, either.”

“Then…?” Mina asked. She couldn’t finish her question. Her vampiric instinct was telling her to flee, but she hadn’t run off like she had planned. Her feet felt glued to the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to leave, but she also couldn’t bring herself to sit back down.

“H-how did you know?” Momo asked. She was sitting at the edge of the booth. Her fight or flight instinct seemed to be stalled, too.

“I’ll tell you if you drink with me, please?” Sana batted her eyelashes at them. “Just one little drink.”

Realizing she was probably drawing more attention to herself by standing, Mina begrudgingly obliged and sat back down, sliding back over next to Sana. “Fine,” she said. She reached for her glass, knocking back the first round of absinthe in one go. Her eyes watered and she almost coughed, but she kept it down, clearing her throat once the alcohol was safely traveling down her esophagus. It was over the top, maybe, but now she could at least say she’d had one drink if she needed to hightail it out of there.

Sana’s eyes seemed to glow. “Wow,” she said. She then turned to the werewolf. “Momo?”

Momo seemed stiffer than Mina had been, and it took a few seconds before her body relaxed again. Hesitantly, she slid back over next to Sana, too.

She looked at Mina, who shared her bewildered expression, and then followed the vampire’s lead, downing her first glass of absinthe, too. She grimaced, licking her lips the way a dog would after realizing the treat it had just eaten was stuffed with medicine.

Sana smirked. “Mm, I love being right,” she said, clearly pleased with herself. “A sexy vampire and a sexy werewolf, what luck.”

Momo and Mina peered at each other curiously.

“So– your fangs..?” Momo asked.

“Real,” Mina said. She couldn’t believe she was admitting this so freely, in a public space no less.

“And your eyes… no full moon, huh?” Mina offered up.

Momo chuckled. “Not tonight,” she said sheepishly.

“But it will be in like, two days,” Sana said, bringing their attention back to her. “What are you doing out so close to the start of your rut cycle, little werewolf?” she said, using one of her nails to gently touch just under Momo’s chin. She turned Momo’s head, making the werewolf look at her before resting her hand on Momo’s thigh again.

Momo blushed.

Sana’s other hand made its way to Mina’s thigh. “You’re taking a risk too, aren’t you? A little vampire on her very best behavior while surrounded by walking blood-flavored Capri Suns,” she giggled. It wasn’t malicious in any way, but Mina still went red, which really only made her look slightly more human as the hint of color made its way to her pale face.

“Enough about us,” Momo said, feeling suddenly protective of the pretty vampire. “You said you’re no threat or a human. So what are you?”

“Hmm. An appreciator of gorgeous women, for starters,” Sana said, taking her hand off Momo’s thigh to finish off her first glass of absinthe. “Please,” she said, nudging the second glasses toward them.

There it was again– that invisible persuading force. Momo brought the second glass up to her lips carefully. The alcohol was already running amok through her system. And even though she was still slightly distressed by the mystery woman’s ability to clock her so easily, she was also starting to become slightly aroused. The demon girl beside her smelled sinfully good, as did the vampire, almost earthy, like late fall leaves.

And not only did they smell good, Momo thought, they were both incredibly attractive. She found Mina alluring with her sleek, perfectly conditioned long dark hair and sharp fangs tucked behind those pretty lips, and Sana’s entire presence was devastatingly sexy. Her costume didn’t help with the werewolf’s arousal, either.

Mina found herself drinking from her second glass, too. The buzz was hitting her faster than anything she’d experienced when she was human. Like Momo, she was unsettled, but mildly turned on. Momo’s bangs kept getting in her eyes, making her look slightly doe eyed when she looked up, and Sana, whatever she was, was downright delicious, especially with her know-it-all attitude. And both of them had hearts pumping plenty of warm blood through their bodies.

They watched as Sana then tapped on one of the curled, thick dark horns on her head. “Not a costume,” she admitted.

“Y-you’re a demon?” Mina asked, shocked.

Sana pouted. “Don’t say it like that,” she said, her voice darkening for a millisecond. “I’m not scary.”

She paused. “Well. Not all the time.” She looked up between the two of them to make sure their eyes were on her. Mina and Momo watched, unsure whether to feel horrified or impressed, as Sana showed more of herself to them. The whites of her eyes vanished for a moment, completely overtaken by empty blackness.

And then, just as soon as it happened, it was over and Sana’s big, brown irises came back into view among the whites of her eyes.

Momo’s heart rate spiked and Mina sensed it immediately. She found it strangely sexy of Sana to be able to get Momo’s heart racing with such little effort. Vampirism had really changed her turn-ons over the years.

“S-so what is this, then? What do you want with us?” Momo asked. She peered down at Sana’s hand on her thigh, suddenly afraid of getting hard in front of her and Mina.

“Aw, am I making you nervous, Momo?” Sana giggled lightly, bringing a hand up to toy with the werewolf’s bandana. She hooked a finger under it, pulling Momo close as if to kiss her. She waited for a second to see how the werewolf would react, and just as she’d thought, Momo inched closer.

“I just want to have some fun,” she said, barely brushing her lips against Momo’s. Sana turned away from her then to look at Mina. Her eyes moved down between the vampire’s legs while her hand moved up the vampire’s thigh and squeezed it lightly. “With both of you.”

The demon smirked, removing her hands from both the other two’s bodies and picked up her second glass of absinthe. “I know you two are already interested in each other based off of the way you were gazing at each other when I first saw you,” she said, making the word sound more like gay-zing. “So…is there room for one more?”

Mina nodded at the same time Momo stammered a shy “Yes.”

“Well then,” said Sana, picking up her remaining glass for a toast. “Cheers to Devil's Night.”

#twice imagines #twice smut #misamo smut #vampire!mina #succubus!sana #werewolf!momo #demon!sana

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melimelissa998 · 7 months

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A Favor pt. 4

Part 3

“I still can NOT! Believe you asked him on a date” Mina says clapping her hands together, “It’s not a date” I say for maybe the 5th time today “Y/N, it is a date! He said so!” Jihyo is obviously on her side “He said, set the date, not it’s a date” I repeat but not sure if it was more for me than for them.

I lied to my friends about how I met Christopher and how we’re having a date dinner tonight. I had to go with a simple: we met at district 9, chitchat ever once a night and one thing led to recommending good restaurants and I mentioned one we both wanted to go and set a date to it…

“If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t have said something like that” Jihyo arches her eyebrows and me. I try not to laugh at her meme face, but I fail. “He was just being nice” I try one more time to make them stop “BUT! He said, ‘I’ll take you!’” Mina screams irritated at my denial. I roll my eyes and smile ignoring her, I later I realize I’m still smiling “Yeah, I, guess it is a date” I whisper hoping they don’t hear me, but I know they do. The 3 of us giggled as if we were 17 again and we just said hi to our crush passing by the hallway and he said hi back.

I still wasn't sure if i was nervous excited or nervous scared of what can happen tonight, was this even a good idea? I wish I wasn’t this excited over dinner with someone, but it’s been years I went out a date and Chris is such a mystery, but again, it’s just a favor he’s paying back I am reading all this as something it’s not…

“Soooo, what are you going to wear?” Mina’s voice makes me stop overthinking, I blink twice and come back to earth, “I was thinking of.” I’m about to show them the outfit, but Jihyo stops me “No.” she says firm and I look at her confused “You are not wearing a cute blouse with your jeans” she crosses her arms and I look at her surprised “I, I was not going to.” I lie to her and turn to my closet again. How the hell did she know?

I desperately look through my clothes for a second option and almost at the end of the rack, I see 2 nice dresses: a purple sundress with puffy sleeves and a navy-blue dress to the neck with long sleeves. I show both and they choose the blue one. “Isn’t it too much?” I take the piece to the mirror and try to imagine myself in it “You should do sexy tonight, not cute” Jihyo says, and Mina agrees “Leave the purple one for a day date, and besides, you do look amazing in blue” Mina tells me and I half smile “Okay, fine, I’ll go shower” I inform them and leave the room.

After I shower and change to something for now while I do my hair and makeup, I go back to my room and see Mina and Jihyo on their phones and internally laugh remembering Felix’s phone from the other night.

I walk to my vanity desk and start my makeup, simple, nude palette. “You should put on a red lipstick, that would be very, very hot” Jihyo suggests and laughs, I roll my eyes and I shake my head “Nah, I, will go with brown tonight, I can do red lipstick another time” I tell her, and she sees me through the mirror and tries not to do a frown but doesn’t say anything else.

I straighten my hair a little and go back to the bathroom to change to the dress, when I go back to the room I spin in the dress “Yeah, I like how I look” I tell them, and both of my best friends smile at me “You look great!” Mina compliments me and I fake a blush, I walk to the closet again and I look for shoes, black heals or brown flats “Heals” Jihyo says behind me, and I laugh again, “I knew you would say that.” I tell her.

I arrive at the address Chris texted and the uber left me in front of one of the 3-star Michelin restaurants there is in the world “God’s Menu”, I recheck the address on maps and the location was the same, as I walk to the entrance my heart starts to skip a beat and my hands start to sweat. Is this a joke?

A beautiful young hostess smiles and welcomes me “Can I have the last name for the reservation?” she asks while she pulls out a tablet “Oh, um, it’s under, um, BangChan? He told me to give you that name?” I pass on what he told me to say at the door, but it sounds more like a question. She looks at me surprised and clears her throat “I see, yes, follow me please” She leads me in the beautiful place, all so brown, and gold, so luxurious I felt even the air in here smells expensive.

“I, sorry to ask, but, is it a business diner?” she whispers and I shake my head “Not that I know of” I laugh a little to it and she nods trying to hide a smile, we do a right turn and as I’m looking around being distracted by all the details in the celling, she suddenly stops and I accidently bump into her “I’m so sorry” I apologize and she laughs “Don’t worry, it happens more than you think” we both smile at each other and then she points to the booth beside her and when I turn, Christopher is already sitting there with a drink in his hand, he’s looking at me with a smirk. “Hope you have a great night” she again whispers and this time she gives me a different smile, a soft smile. I see her go and I turn to Christopher “Hi” I wave at him and stand there not actually knowing where to sit.

Next to him? The other side of the booth? Am I going to slide all the way?

“You look gorgeous babygirl” he compliments me so daringly and I forgot to breath for a moment “Thank you” I feel my cheeks hurt from the blushing, he scoots more into the booth and with his head he points to the new spot he made. I swallow hard and sit next to him. “When you said ‘great place’ I thought it would be a pizza place like dominos or something” I joke and he smirks “I can take you to dominos next time” he shrugs, I don’t answer to that, but I feel my stomach flip inside me “This place is, just so, amazing, I thought it was hard to have a reservation here in with days” I tell him “It is, but the owner is a friend of mine” he says so nonchalant about it, I don’t speak and just stare at him, so casually, handsome, is face features are so drop dead gorgeous, his black suite looking expensive…

“Are you allergic to anything?” he asks taking a sip to his drink and hiding a smirk, I look away and felt embarrassed, he knows I was staring… “Um, yeah, shrimp? Seafood actually, it gives me like a rash and closes my throat” I explain, and he looks at me a little surprised “and my eyes get puff so that also looks ugly” I point to my eyes, and he chuckles “Got it, anything to drink?” He asks “lemon juice with whiskey” I answer and he nods, he does a sign in the air to call a waiter “Bring her a sour whiskey and today’s special make sure there’s no seafood related” he orders and the waiter agrees and leaves. Again, I feel my stomach all weird and I really don’t want to feel how special he is making me feel.

There’s a moment of silents between us and I wonder if he feels it as uncomfortable as I do, but his facial expression is so hard to read “So Bang Chan? Is that your last name?” I ask, he straightens up from his position and clears his throat “It’s my business name” he clears out “Oh, and Christopher is for friends?” I chuckle “Like Hannah Montana?” I joke and as soon as I say it I regret it, I am about to apologize for doing such a comment but before I can say I’m sorry, he laughs as if I said the funniest thing in the world “Yeah, you can say I have the best of both worlds” he joins a punch line and I bite my lips trying to avoid my smile.

The waiter comes back with my drink and an entrance soup. I thank him and he gives me a small nod, he leaves us alone again, Chris is looking at me as waiting for me to try the soup first, I take the spoon with soup and bring it to my mouth. “Oh wow, this is so amazing!” I sound too excited about it, but I can’t contain the happiness of the taste. He smirks and starts to eat too. There is another moment of silences and I try to think of something to talk about, I take a sip of my drink and remember the other night and see he still has painted nails “Does the whole ‘drug in the glass’ happens often?” I want to know, and he nods “yeah, we are kinda used to it” he keeps it simple “We? As in Lee Know, Felix? The other boys with you?” “Yes” I nod and talk again “Your accent, it sounds, not from here, it’s like a.” “Australian, it’s an Australian accent” he interrupts me “Oh! Yeah, it is, Felix too, right?” he nods, and I feel conscious of how many questions I made “Sorry, I’m doing too many questions” I explain and breath in and start to eat again “You’re fine” he says sincerely “Sorry, I just get nervous when there’s silence, I feel like I have to fill it up with my talking” I nervously laugh “You don’t need to apologize, it’s fine” he says again and I am about to say sorry again but he gives me a “don’t say it” expression which makes me shiver and the word gets stuck in my throat. His face expression relaxes, and he continues to eat which I do the same “You, have a job?” he asks after a while and I nod “Yeah, I’m an elementary teacher, at the Northwood school, the one that’s on top of the hill?” I question the last part waiting for him to answer if he knew which one I was talking about, and nods “Is it a hard job?” he asks, and I smile “Oh let me tell you about it…”

Through the night, I start to tell stories of my kids and how crazy it is to be an elementary teacher, I also tell him all the funny moments I’ve had and at first, I really felt I should shut up at one point, but Chris would give me a look as if he was very interested or as if I was telling the most amazing story ever and made it feel like if it was okay for me to keep talking. Every now in then he would also share a story of his elementary days or crack a joke between my stories making all uncomfortable feeling go away.

At the end of dinner, after have to most amazing dessert Christopher lets out a heavy breath “I’ve got to say, you are funnier than I thought” he says with a half-smile, I roll my eyes hiding mine “Thanks, sounded offensive but thanks” I joke with him and he smirks. He’s about to say something back at me but the sound of a ringtone stops him. He talks a very old phone from his pocket and looks at the screen. I look at the phone with a frown, but also let out a chuckle, he looks at me confused “What’s up with a modern phone? You and Felix seem to not like smartphones” I comment and laugh about it, Chris looks down and the phone and back at me “It gives me what I actually just needed it for” he kinda sound serious almost annoyed about my comment “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything abo.” I feel bad and want to apologize about it but he interrupts me “I, didn’t mean it like that, I, just don’t need a fancy phone” he says in a better tone but it stills make me feel bad, I nod understanding and he still seems uneasy “I’m not into social media or have time for texting with friends” he comments in a sad tone now. I try to think of what to say instead of sorry, “Oh, that’s sad, and here I was thinking we were going to be text buddies after this” I tease him and give him my best “it’s okay” smile. He looks at me with an expression I try to read.

Was it funny? Did he hate the joke? Did he even get the joke?

“In that case, I’ll have to change it” he wiggles the old phone in the air and takes me off guard, I feel a chill breeze all of a sudden and my back is shivers. I really try stop myself from showing any emotion on my face but I feel a stupid smile on my face trying creep. I think of something to say back but I don’t know what to respond. I look away and distract myself with whatever I see first, I hear him chuckle but still don’t say anything else. I take a deep breath and look at my watch “I, should probably get going before it's late, then the Ubers get really expensive and I.” “I’ll take you home” he interrupts “Oh, I didn’t mean it to sound like.” I panic and try to explain myself but he ignores me “I’ll drive you home, getting in a car this late isn’t a good idea.” He again interrupts me and takes the last sip of his drink. I sit there looking at him getting up and out the booth, how can he just be so fine and cool about it… “. Let’s go baby girl” he sounds like he’s ordering me which I instantly react to it by getting up. He guides his hand to the bottom of my back and gives me a little push to start walking. I again feel a shiver down my back and my heart in my ears, I am so glad he can’t see how my face is probably damn red right now, I take small breath to stop my heart race and hope he can’t sense my nervousness.

We walk to the entrance of the place and a black Mercedes probably car of the year pulls up, a valet steps out and gives the keys to Chris, the valet guy is about to open the passenger door from me but Chris stops “I’ll take it from here” he again speaks in a demanding order in which the guy steps aways “Yes sir, have a great night” he says goodbye and leaves. Chris opens the door of the car and also closes it after. I take the chance to let out the air in my lungs and wait for him to get to the driver’s seat. The drive to my department was silent, not even music playing to make it feel not weird at this point. My need to vomit talk was making me go crazy. “Thank you!” I say out of the blue “. F-for dinner and the ride home” I look at him but he doesn’t seem to react about it “I know I talked a lot and sorry if I annoyed you, but.” “You didn’t at all, I enjoyed it” he interrupts and stops in front of a red light. He looks at me and just stays like that. The light makes his skin glow and I once again I look at his face, the scar, his lips, his nose, and into his eyes. The light turns green and he turns to face the road.

I then feel so unreal, the night, the air, this isn’t real, it’s so unreal, he’s unreal.

I stop overthinking as soon as I hear Chris get out of the car and walk to my side to open the door, I am about to say goodbye and thank him again but he speaks first “Let me take you out again.” I stand there a little confused “. But this time not as a favor…”

He just really knows how to take my breath away…

#fy #imagine #stray kids #kpop #kpop imagines #mafia #stray kids imagine #stray kids mafia au #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #felix #mina #momo

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mafioseo · 2 months

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magdalena (m) // k.jw

drama, angst, smut -- 1959, minas gerais, brazil. jungwoo kim is a young friar of the dominican order, rumored to be a living saint—wherever he goes, little miracles seem to follow. upon arriving in the city of belo horizonte. however, he finds his faith will be tested the hardest it’s been in years; and the test has not just one name, but two. once y/n l/n, now magdalena: former darling of high mineiran society, current reigning queen of belo horizonte’s red light district.

overall fic warnings (more specific warnings will be listed at the beginning of every chapter): sexual content, depictions of prostitution, heavy catholic/christian themes, period typical misogyny, period typical homophobia, depictions of violence, depictions of alcohol, depictions of child abuse, depictions of religion-based self-harm

um: santo | brother jungwoo arrives in belo horizonte and is confronted with a morally decaying city. magdalena faces the same criticism she faces each day, but it seems to be coming to a head. when the two meet at church, it will change them both forever.

more to come soon - est. 6 - 7 chapters

comment / reblog to be added to the taglist <3

author's note: hello hello ^^ this is based off of the 1998 brazilian telenovela hilda furacão which i've been absolutely in love with for the past few weeks (thx tiktok), so i figured i would give it my own spin :) hope you enjoy!!!

#nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #kim jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo smut #jungwoo scenarios #nct jungwoo

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twst-drabbles · 1 year

Text

Leona 23

Summary: While the rest of the group arrived for the Tamashina-Mina, you’re here for a different reason that you haven’t disclosed until now.

(Hehehehehe I like the thought of being pen pals with Falena without anyone’s knowing. Until the last minute. Also my word count increased again.)

You waved after Kalim as he ran towards his ride. He jumped in, closed the door and off he went. Lilia perked up.

“Well then, let’s start looking around.” Lilia clapped his hands, already scoping out the beauty that is Sunset Savanna. Wouldn’t that be nice, just to take your time and explore the place? A beautiful marriage of nature and skyscrapers, in hot weather that only makes the plant life look more vibrant.

“Huh, hey, aren’t you coming?” Grim lightly kicked your legs like they would kick-start them somehow. You lightly pushed him back with your foot.

“I, uh, can’t actually.” Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a black car with a rather familiar symbol on it. A very detailed symbol. One that matched the one on your letter.

“Ho? Is that the royal crest of the royal family?” Vil’s smirk was nothing short of poisonous, enjoying Leona’s increasing discomfort. “Could it be your brother was that impatient to see you? Or are they perhaps here to pick you up?”

“Either way, it wouldn’t do to keep them waiting, dear prince.” Lilia, of course, had to join in the teasing bordering on cruelty.

“…you’ve got to be kidding me…” Leona growled from his throat, ears laid flat, tail lashing. “Come on, we’re going.”

Oh boy, guess now’s a good time as any to out yourself. Not as if it was a secret, you just thought it would be funnier. That and you know that it would put Leona in a horribly sour mood and you honestly didn’t want to deal with that.

“Huh? Oy, where are you going?” Grim, of course, being your little minion, was the first to notice you walking towards the car that was detailed in your long, long letter. Seriously, you have quite the number of things planned in this little space of time you were able to grab.

“I’m going to my ride.” You bluntly put, digging into your bag to pull out a puffed up white envelope. You flipped it, showing the royal crest. “I kinda have my whole day planned out already. With my friend. And his wife.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me your friend was part of the royal family?” Of course Vil would get it first. His skills of observation are nothing to laugh at. He looked impressed, probably cause of how little history and influence there was to your name, but there’s also this vague aura of discomfort about him, as though he expects you to laugh and say it’s a lie.

"Specifically, Mr. Falena. Well, Falena, he really doesn't like it when I get formal." You nodded.

Leona looked as though he wanted to skin you the moment the dots connected together. But he was never one to give into his anger. He prefers to seethe. See, this was why you didn’t want to say anything until the last minute. “And you didn’t tell me, because?”

“Cause you’d get into a shitty mood and I don’t want to deal with it.” You, Falena and his wife have been planning this outing for a while. It started off as a joke on his part and then it just, grew. Adding activity after activity, and when the opportunity finally came up, he leaped at the chance. So, here you are, after not so subtly reminding Leona that he still owes you a few favors.

“So you deign it necessary for us to deal with the fallout at the last minute. Truly, you are diabolical.” Lilia says that but his expression says he likes this. Any kind of sour mood was just an excuse for him to either try and lighten it up, or make it worse.

“Though, where exactly are you going, if you don’t mind me asking?” Vil asked, crossing his arms.

“Well, hold up,” you opened the envelope, shaking the long scroll of a page. It trailed down, down, down until it hit the poor sweating Jack’s feet, “Uh, well there’s going to be a tour of the palace, eating at some of the vendors, go to a river, go the district Leona said he was taking you Vil, shopping, more shopping, more food. There’s a lot to do. Oh and of course we’re going to see you all play.”

“Why would my stupid brother waste his time like this…” He refused to engage with you anymore, wanting out of any subject that relates to him.

You rolled up the paper and stuffed it back in the envelope.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Let’s go!” Grim jumped up, already assuming he can go by trotting towards the car.

Vil only needed to take one step forward to grab him by the scruff. “You weren’t invited. If you have any scrape of etiquette in you, you’d know you can’t just invite yourself when dealing with royalty.”

“Yup.” You popped, shrugging your shoulders. “Sorry Grim, you’re gonna have to sit this one out.” Besides, you want a vacation away from him for a bit, as cruel as that sounds.

“To think your influence has went so far as to even charm those that don’t even attend Night Raven College. You’re shaping up to be a fearsome individual.” Lilia smirked, but waved nonetheless.

“Well, what are you lingering for?” Leona’s face finally relaxed, not quite angry, more finished with the situation. “Leave. Can’t have you being late to meet his royal highness.”

Bitter, bitter.

“Later.” You waved and hopped into the car. Off it drove, leaving behind a baffled group, wondering how you even managed to contact Falena, let alone be friends with him. Leona knows, but damn he tried to push that information out of his head.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #savanaclaw #leona #leona kingscholar #reader insert #janitor au

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allthebrazilianpolitics · 6 months

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‘You are killing us’: Mariana survivors face ill health, lost culture and a long wait for justice

When a dam burst eight years ago in a Brazilian mining town, the toxic mud swept downriver, crushing all before it. Affected communities are still fighting in the courts – and mourning a way of life that has disappeared for ever

Marino D’Ângelo Júnior regularly takes antidepressants and medication to help him sleep. A former resident of Paracatu, a district of the city of Mariana in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais, the 54-year-old says he has lost his sense of self since 60m cubic metres of mining waste flattened his town, forcing him to live in a rented property near the centre of an environmental disaster that shocked the world eight years ago.

D’Ângelo is one of the survivors of the collapse of the Fundão tailings dam near Mariana. Almost a decade on, the people affected by Brazil’s worst environmental tragedy still await justice as they live under the shadow of the toxic mud that swept away life as they knew it.

“The collapse of a dam isn’t what you see on TV – the river of mud destroying things,” says D’Ângelo. “A dam failure entails an infinity of invisible ruptures. The rupture of connections, family links, communities, histories, dreams.”

D’Ângelo used to own a herd of 60 dairy cows before the incident but he began to sell them off as he found himself unable to work properly, which led to him being “forced into poverty”. A member of the Commission for People Affected by the Fundão Dam, D’Ângelo holds the mining companies responsible for the disaster and the subsequent neglect of the affected populations who still struggle with losing their livelihoods and way of life.

The dam – which was managed by Samarco, a joint venture between the Brazilian mining company Vale and the Anglo-Australian company BHP – collapsed on 5 November 2015, and caused mining waste to flow nearly 700km (430 miles) down the Rio Doce into the Atlantic Ocean, devastating everything in its path.

The torrent of toxic sludge buried villages, killed 19 people and left thousands more homeless. Nearly a decade later, hundreds of thousands of people continue to suffer the effects daily, in the contaminated soil unfit for agriculture, the diseased fish they catch in the polluted river, and the breakdown of their communities and cultural traditions.

No one has yet been held accountable for the socio-environmental disaster. BHP, Vale, Samarco and eight other defendants stand accused of environmental crimes in a Brazilian court case that has been dragging on for seven years. They are due to face a judge for questioning this month.

Separately, about 700,000 people are suing BHP in a UK court, seeking £36bn in reparations in English legal history’s most significant group claim. BHP denies liability.

#brazil #brazilian politics #politics #environmental justice #environmentalism #indigenous rights #mining #mariana dam burst 2015 #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

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vergess · 1 year

Note

even more appropriate that mina's name (wilhelmina) means vehement/resolute protector

I fucking ADORE the names in this book, tbh. Bramthaniel really said 'Hold on let me Maximize The Symbollism' for every one of his beloved OCs.

Just off the top we've got:

Lucy: White, light, bright. References the fall of Lucifer and positions her as a star on the cusp of both day and night, prior to her turning. Shares meaning but not etymology with Gwenhwyfar/Guinevere.

Arthur: A bear of a man, noble and powerful, but condemned to mourn the betrayal of the woman he loves through no fault of hers or his, but rather, the intervention of a foreign man. So, that's literally just King Arthur.

John/Jack: There are a lot of Bible guys named John but I've decided to use John The Baptist the because he was also a weird cutting edge philosopher hermit who primarily existed to prop up other figures in Christian mythos, but unlike a lot of them, we know this particular wonk existed because there are a lot of legal document about his execution. Unlike the proverbial Jack Of All, a mythological figure who had every imaginable skill and constantly escaped traps of his own making by the skin of his teeth (see also: Jack Seward's Weirdly Erotic Relationship With Candles)

Jonathan: Bro is fully named after The One Biblically Acceptable Gay Man, and spends his arc clinging to the divine spark of his love for Mina, certain of its purity in spite of everyone and everything around hem screaming that his love is profane. This shit writes itself.

Mina: Not just a protector, but a warrior-protector. And not just a warrior protector, but the literal contemporary QUEEN OF VAN HELSING'S HOMELAND AT THE TIME. I know we all keep calling her a Queen, but I want us to really remember that Bramothy and VH were calling her a Queen unironically.

Abraham (VH): Okay this one is by far the funniest because unlike the rest, the symbolism here is about as subtle as a 14 year old trying to name their Naruto OC using Google translate. Setting aside Bram's own name and his father's name and VH being physically described as looking like Stoker. Abraham is, of course, The Old Dude From Which The Major Global Religions Descended. Hence him being older and more informed than everyone else, but also talking with a degree of nonsensical allegory that anyone who had to translate ancient texts into modern language growing up knows is the fucking worst even when you DO finally understand it. Also this is probably a factor in the weird obsession with 'his descendants' in pop culture.

Van Helsing: A foreigner of a foreigner, his name is Dutch for 'dude from Sweden' but specifically means 'dude whose family came from a particularly barren part of Sweden like 8 generations ago.' He's a real Immigant Success Story, is old Abe.

But we can do better still.

See, at the time that was more or less everything Abe's surname had going in (as far as I'm aware while not doing any additional research).

But today, the Anglosphere does know one more thing about Hälsingland, Sweden.

See, the capital* is REALLY popular this time of year for their.

Ritual bonfires.

You might say he's a stubborn old goat. Maybe even a criminal one!

*Hälsingland is a historical district folded into the modern county of Gävleborg, of Gälvebocken fame.

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philliamwrites · 1 year

Text

SWYAATL 16: ətˈæk 0N tάɪtn

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x fem! Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence and gore, angst, anxiety, flashbacks to loss childhood trauma

Summary: “Our story has just begun, right? It’s time we teach them a lesson, okay?” “Okay.” In that moment that changes the trajectory of your life, you realise three fundamental truths at the exact same time. Number one: For the first time in all your life you know you are more than what you fear. Number two: There is a truth to remember about Emil, and because you remember you are given a second chance to be with him. Number three: When you trace Eren’s name, it spells home.

Notes: [01] || [15] | [17]

Words: 4.8k

A/N: eren isn't the only one who's back. since there was SO MUCH AMAZING feedback this past week on tumblr & ao3, i decided to treat you all and upload today instead of sunday.

chapters might be shorter from now on and therefore hopefully more frequent. chpt.17 is already done, so hopefully that little headstart might help. if i manage to keep up writing despite the ridiculosu stressful time ahead at work, the next update is next sunday. if it's not, it'll DEFINITELY be in 2 weeks, promise.

16: ətˈæk 0N tάɪtn

When the break of a second passes and the gears of the world turn back into motion with a jerk, there is barely any time to draw your blades before a hot blast of steam hurls you off the Wall. Distantly, you hear screams as the world swirls by, the sky becomes the ground becomes the sky becomes the ground, until auto-pilot hijacks your muscles and you rip out your grip handles. The anchors wedge into the stone wall and you slam the handles to let the wires reel you in. The impact against the hard stone rattles from your feet all the way through your bones, snapping your jaw shut hard enough with a loud click that your teeth hurt. Shadows whirl past you—your friends. Only then do you notice the screams belong to you, tearing through your throat as you try to tell them to move move move!

Everyone’s instinct kicks in right on time and they quickly follow using their ODM gear. But one body keeps falling, falling, tumbling like a lifeless bag. In a flash, Sasha shoots past you, and saves who you recognise is an unconscious Samuel plummeting to his death. Her anchor ripping through his leg is no pretty sight, but she manages to break his fall.

“It’s the Colossal Titan!” Eren shouts a few feet above you. His blazing green eyes stand in stark contrast to his pale skin. “This is finally our chance to make him pay and end this!”

A messy, full-throated roar of memories rise. You quickly push them aside. There’s no time to break down, not here, not now, not when it could arrive at any moment—

A crack, loud like thunder. Like the earth is splitting in two, dying. Your head jerks down to the main gate of the Outer Wall and for a moment, all your horrors claw at your throat like wild animals as you wait for the Armoured Titan to march through the destroyed gate. But only boulders and debris hurl by like cannonballs and you’re weirdly amazed by how small it looks from up here.

“He’s kicked in the Gate,” you hear Connie mumble quietly. He’s manoeuvred closer; everyone has come closer to brief what to do next. Except Eren. He’s gone. An awful suspicion haunts you when you guess where to. “If we don’t stop them now, we’ll have Shiganshina all over again.”

“We have to report back to HQ!” Mina screams, her face locked in fear. “We have to find Garrison—” She falls dead silent when the watchtower’s bells go off in the distance. You’ve been drilled so often for moments like this, you know what is next: the evacuation of the citizens begins. Titans have breached the Wall.

Your gaze slides past Mina’s pinched face. The first Titan, a five-metre monster of flesh and teeth stumbles into the District, its mouth hanging open like a door hanging on broken hinges. And then another. And then another. You stare at them, throat tight, the cold sweat sensation of dread spreading slowly through your limbs. The taste of blood slowly fills your mouth, zapping your brain awake when you notice the pain in your bottom lip from how hard you are biting it. It clears the fog for a moment; it allows you to jam the emotions behind a basement door. You claw your hands into this sudden composure and drag it over your skin even though it feels all wrong and too tight.

“Get Eren back down here,” you tell Connie and Thomas. “We’ll retreat to HQ first and wait for orders.”

“B-but the Titans.” Mina points down where the first wave begins to spread out in search of people.

“Nobody should be at home at this time anyway, they’ve announced drills this morning, remember?” It’s a sobering thought, provided at the right time—you’ve always worked well under pressure. You hope your brain doesn’t stop now.

“We have to get Samuel to safety, too,” Sasha adds, casting a worried glance down to where he’s hanging upside down, passed out.

“More reason to retreat,” you insist, glad that Connie and Thomas zipped up to the top of the Wall. Right then, a group of Garrison soldiers swarms out from behind the buildings, engaging the Titans. Two aimed for you, another two continue further up, and you feel immediate relief at the sight of senior soldiers taking control of the situation.

Transporting Samuel to Headquarters at the centre of Trost is no easy task, but when you hand him to the paramedics, it’s one thing less to worry about. Good timing as well, because that is when your forced composure decides to crack like the brittle thing it is. The emotions you trapped before are clawing at the basement door, all the pictures swarming before your eyes—the Colossal Titan, the smaller Titans marching into your city, Eren vanishing into the white steam—you cackle with a shrill pitch that borders on hysteria and bend over, your hands braced on your knees, as though you can barely hold yourself upright. Your breaths come in tight, short bursts. The air won’t fit down your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut as though that stops you from engaging with reality, mumbling to yourself, “He said he’d come back. He’ll come back. He’s gotta come back. Emil—No, Eren. He said he’d come back. He’s gotta—”

The angry voice cutting across the yard is like a sunburst after a stormy cloud. The encroaching darkness dissipates with Jean’s voice, and suddenly you have no problem clawing your way out of this darkness and fear. Jean’s insistent voice is like an anchor; from childhood on you have grown to respond to it. To rise from bed when he called, to run to help him when he brawled with the other neighbourhood children.

Your body stumbles over to where he is holding someone—not just someone, Eren—by his shirt collar. You don’t even know what he’s screaming about, only that he is there; they are both there.

Jean speaks with such anger, such a tangled mixture of dread and fear and hostility that you want nothing more than to reach out and comfort him. But there is no time. Whatever he sees on your face when he notices you approaching, it immediately silences his onslaught of words—and gives Eren a chance to retaliate.

He shoves Jean against a pillar and holds him there until his struggling ceases just enough for Eren to talk. “Never forget the three years we poured our blood, sweat and tears into,” Eren hisses. “We’ve nearly died so many times over the past three years. Some people actually died … or gave up halfway. But we survived. We survived. And we’ll get through this, again. You’ll survive today, and tomorrow, you’ll head off to the Interior, right?” He shakes Jean, hard, as if to rattle all the cobbles loose that might bar the path to realising the obvious.

Jean jerks free. A muscle in his jaw clenches, as though he is chewing on his words before he speaks. Finally, he breathes, “If you kick the bucket, I will fucking kill you, Jaeger.” He shoves Eren off him, rounds the pillar catches your eye. Jean juts his chin forward—telling you to follow him. But for now, your whole attention is anchored in Eren. He answers with one of his own forceful stares that always leave your skin on fire as if he put a red-hot poker against it. As if pulled by an invisible hook, you two close the space between you.

“What he said,” you say quietly. “Try not to get yourself killed, okay?” You wonder if he notices how desperate you sound. “Or I will come after you and kick your ass.”

Eren leans over and puts his hand on your shoulder. Even through the fabric of your jacket, you feel every one of his fingers pressing into your flesh. He speaks in a low voice. “I finally get the chance to slaughter those pigs. Do you really think I’d do something stupid and just die here?”

“This isn’t dummy practice.” Your throat is dry. You feel like an animal trapped against a corner. Suddenly, everything goes blurry. “This is real.”

“It is. And that’s exactly why we can’t lose heart. We’ll show them. We’ll show them we can fight back.” He holds his head slightly lowered and looks at you with his green eyes from under thick, dark lashes. “We’ll get through this. Our story has just begun, right? It’s time we teach them a lesson, okay?”

You swallow hard as your senses return. Drop by drop, like water filling a cup, your thoughts fall back into order. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Eren releases your shoulder and raises his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheek—so lightly you think you might have imagined it. Too startled to say anything, you stand in silence as he turns and leaves, marching with straight, rigid shoulders towards Mikasa.

When you meet her eyes, you don’t know how to read her expression. Is it concern? Does she have a problem that Eren shows you this platonic affection in public when she doesn’t even get a pat on her shoulder; not even a promise that he’ll be careful and come back.

You walk backwards, barely understanding why you have to look at them for such a long time. To memorise their faces. But Mikasa is strong, and if Eren stays by her side, nothing will hurt him.

Jean is waiting at the other side of the courtyard with Connie. Some people get the shakes after an adrenaline surge. Jean gets pissed. When he helps make sure Connie’s gear and gas cylinders are in order, Jean pulls at Connie’s harness so hard as if he’s trying to mug him.

Standing right next to Jean, you want to close your eyes and lean against him, even for just a moment; you want to pretend it’s just another practice drill, that by the end of the day you will meet with everyone for dinner, and you’ll laugh because like always, Sasha and Connie stole Jean’s kills and then the boys will try and predict the next day’s weather depending on Bertholdt’s sleeping position.

Rough hands yank you back from this pipe dream, tugging at your ODM gear. Jean is checking on your equipment next, and you’re kicked back to when you two were thirteen years old and he had tugged on your clothes just like that, checking for injuries after you had given the butcher’s son a bloody nose for dunking Jean’s head into the river.

“Who’s in your squad?” he asks, his voice quiet and rough.

“Karl, Daz, and Franz.”

Jean pulls a face. His hands are restless as he double-checks your equipment. “Listen, if you see a Titan, you move your ass in the opposite direction, okay?”

“You heard Captain Weilman.” Like a well-oiled machine, you turn around, allowing Jean access to check your back. “Desertion is punished by death.”

“So you’d rather a Titan eats you?”

“I—”

He doesn’t let you finish. “I know what happens when you’re scared,” Jean says, and stops. He grabs your shoulders and spins you around, jerking his head down to glare at you. “I’ve known you all my life. If you don’t run, you freeze, and we both know what that means here. Today.”

“I can’t run from it forever,” you reply, quietly.

The breath he exhales is a quiet huff, fanning over your cheeks. His eyes are raking over your face anxiously. You can sense the tension in him, a thrum just under the skin, like the fast-beating heart of a bird. “Running means you’ll stay alive. I need you—” Jean swallows. “—alive.” He almost stumbles over the last word.

“You won’t get rid of me, don’t worry.” If you press into his side and he presses back, it’s only your business. Jean takes a reluctant step back. He catches your fingers with his and gives them a quick, hard squeeze before letting go. When he is already halfway to his squad; he turns and looks back at you. You meet his eyes for a split second. Then he is gone.

You find Karl, a guy you’ve rarely interacted with during the last three years apart from quick nods and polite smiles, and give Daz a wide berth. He’s still sickly pale and you turn away when he starts to dry-heave as though he’ll be sick all over again. Franz is fidgeting with his spare blades, but he looks up when you approach and manages a wobbly smile.

As you check that your gear is working and everything is in place for yourself, your mind is on Jean and the look you’ve shared when he left. It was the first time you’ve watched him leave, knowing you might never see him again. It is something that is hard to accept, and you aren’t sure you want it to become part of your life. To live with death as a constant companion, a cold breath down the back of your neck. But such is the life of a soldier; such will be the life of those who join the Survey Corps.

As though you have the luxury to think about it. You have a mission now: join the support squad and take the middle guard to defend Wall Rose until every citizen is behind the Wall. Stop Titans advancing further no matter the cost. Once the evacuation is done, soldiers from the rear-guard will meet you on the roofs and hand out new gas cylinders so you can all retreat on top of the Inner Wall for safety. That’s the plan.

When you head out, you try not to think about it. Just follow orders, move with your squad. All those years you’ve been talking about protecting the people, saving them so no one ever has to lose someone they love like you did. Finally, you can walk your talk, but every reasonable thought gets pushed back by sheer suffocating, overbearing emotion: you’re scared. You’re scared shitless to face the monsters of your childhood. All these years you thought you had banished them, that come time you could face them—older, different, stronger. But all this time you have deluded yourself. Still a little child, still unable to do anything. Maybe nothing ever changes.

You follow Karl towards Main Street. Captain Weilman tasked your squad to take position in the tailor’s borough, which gives you an excellent opportunity to check on the Kirschstein’s residency. Your home. You don’t allow your thoughts to spiral into what happens if you would find Ida and Felix in any status other than safe and alive. They depend on you; so many people depend on you. You force yourself to steel your fear into rage, into desperation, into resolve.

Karl lands on the roof of a copper-stone house, surveying the area through squinted eyes. “We’re taking position here,” he says. “Doesn’t look like they managed to head this far into the District yet.”

Daz stumbles a little, his foot stuck on a roof shingle. “We shouldn’t be here, we shouldn’t fucking be here, what are they thinking?” he mumbles to himself, shuddering terribly as though plagued by a done-deep cold. “We’re just canon fodder. We’re just here so they can snack on us while everybody else books it behind the Walls.”

“Daz,” Franz says. He has his blades out, and even though he’s gripping them hard enough his knuckles are white, you can see them shaking. “Shut up.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to shut up, it’s the truth!” he snaps, whirling around and whipping his blades out. Franz takes a startled step back. Too close to the roof’s edge, he barks Daz to watch out where he swings them around.

“Won’t have to worry about Titans if that maniac kills us first,” Karl mumbles, scanning the streets. He gives you a quick once-over, judges you either sane or capable enough compared to the other two, and draws closer, pointing to one end of the street.

You follow his outstretched arm. Your heart stops for a second.

Two or three bodies lie in the street already—a man, half his lower abdomen is buried under the ruins of a collapsed house. You know that corner; you’d recognise it anywhere: the seamstress’ shop behind the Kirschstein’s residency where you had worked before enlisting into the military.

“We’re too late,” you breathe. “They’ve reached the middle guard.”

“Some survivors might still be down there,” Karl offers. He does another 360, spots no Titans, and nods. “We should go and check.”

That’s all you need to hear. Using the house rows facing each other as anchor points, you zip down to the ground, hearing Karl bark to Daz and Franz to warn you two in time if they see Titans approaching.

Down on the ground, you feel like a little doll in a huge play world. Only someone has thrown a temper tantrum and kicked in houses, punched a colossal fist into stores. Broke the people as though there are nothing more than little toys.

Tentatively, you walk closer to the destroyed building, too scared to take a closer look at the man in fear it might be Felix. Something else catches your eye—red like so many things beautiful and disastrous. Who told you that red was the Gods’ favourite colour?

Her lower abdomen torn in half and lying on the other side of the road, you recognise the young woman by the colour of her blue tunic. She’d always worn it because it had made her big, round eyes stand out even more. The only moments you remember of Mirabelle, your former co-worker of the shop, are despicable and full of loathing for a person who had bullied you without any reason—and yet … seeing her like this, like a doll that’s been ripped apart, half of her intestines hanging out of her body, her vacant blue eyes staring off into the sky unblinkingly… this is a death you don’t wish on anyone. Not even someone you disliked.

“Know any of these people?” Karl asks beside you. You gather your courage. Look at the man, who is not Felix, thankfully. Look at the woman hanging out of a window, the rest of her stuck inside the collapsed building—her hair a vibrant red. Not Ida.

You exhale slowly and force the tension from your muscles. “No.”

“Then we shouldn’t hang around here too long—”

A scream echoes from the roofs—Daz’s voice. Karl and you share a short, panicked look before launching off into the sky and towards your squad members. You can hear Karl mumbling something like “He’s gonna get us killed, I swear.”

You can hardly disagree.

When you ascend over the rooftops, you see the source of Daz’s distress.

Even though it has been seven years, you recognise the Titan immediately. Black hair to its chin, big, coal-black pinpricks for eyes—nothing about it has changed. Like seven years ago when it picked up that woman and devoured her, the Titan has returned today to finish its feast. The way it stares you down, you almost get the feeling it might remember you as well. But that’s impossible. It must smell the fear radiating off you, and like a hound scenting prey, it zeroes in on you. You can taste the terror you’ve felt when you first saw a Titan. The taste is sharp and coppery on your tongue like old pennies.

Move, your mind screams, but you can’t. Your muscles have locked up; a high whine of terror fills your head. You’re trembling with the wait, the helplessness, the stillness, your thumbs pressing so hard to the buttons on your handles they go numb. Faintly, you’re aware of voices. Out of the corner of your eyes you catch movement, and then Franz moves towards the Titan.

A hand leaps at him. Franz whips his blades up and outward with an almost frightening speed; both sink into the fleshiest part of the Titan’s hand, between its fingers. The Titan hisses and strikes at him, knocking him aside the way a cat might bat aside a kitten. Franz lands on another roof, rolls and gets to his feet, but you can see from the way he’s holding his arm that he’s hurt.

That is enough for Karl. Darting forward, he lashes out at the Titan with his blades. He cuts into the Titan’s peach white skin, blood welling from two thick open folds of skin. The Titan ignores him, keeps moving towards Franz.

With his uninjured hand, Franz changes his blade. His mouth quivers as he mumbles to himself, a prayer maybe. From this distance, it looks like he’s mumbling someone’s name. A familiar name.

He raises his blade as the Titan looms up before him; he looks impossibly small in front of it, a child dwarfed by a monster. Franz starts crying as the Titan reaches for him. Karl, screaming, targets his grappling hooks at the Titan’s neck, sailing towards it but missing. Instead, his blades cut into its shoulder, sending blood in a thick spray across the air.

The Titan strikes, its trunk-thick fingers reaching down for Franz. He staggers back, but he is unharmed. Something has thrown itself between him and the Titan, a slim shadow with a gleaming blade in his hand. Karl.

The Titan whines—Karl’s blade has pierced its skin. With a snarl, it strikes again, fingers striking a vicious blow that lifts him off his feet and hurls him against the far wall of a house. He strikes it with a sickening crunch and falls to the ground—four stores down where his head hits the hard pavement, cracking open like a ripe fruit.

Franz screams Karl’s name. He doesn’t move. Lowering his blade, he starts to run along the edge of the roof towards him. The Titan, turning, catches him in a hard grip that makes Franz cough blood until its knuckles turn white and with a squeeze, his bones breaking, Franz lies limb within its grasp as the Titan closes his mouth around him, ignoring his brutal, blood-churning screams. The sound of a dying animal.

It all happens within a few minutes. Two of your teammates—one friend—dead. Just like that.

It felt like hours.

Hours where you don’t move, you don’t think, you don’t feel. You just watch the Titan bite Franz clean in half and swallow the lower part of his body. Either unsatisfied with the taste or bored with the easy game, the Titan drops the rest of Franz and turns, fixing its coal-black eyes on you. The distance between you is barely a stretch of its long arm.

Emil had been wrong, you realise. Freedom is not the ability to do as you please.

Freedom is nothing but the distance between the hunter and its prey.

The Titan closes a fist around your body, tenderly almost. As though it knows how scared you are, and that the last grace it can give you is to grant you a swift, painless death. That can’t be real. You remember how the woman seven years ago had screamed her lungs out. How Franz screamed before those razor-sharp teeth cut him in two.

The Titan cradles you in his hand, bends over your tiny doll-like body in his giant fingers. Its smile is vacant, its eyes dull like a dead fish’s. No compassion lies in those soulless orbs. No begging or praying would save you; monsters know of no mercy. They don’t know of conscience and love.

How could Emil have ever felt compassion for those beasts?

Emil. When had he shown compassion to Titans? When had he ever seen a Titan?

An image flickers before your eyes—A line of trees with thickly leaved branches breathing out cool green-scented air. There are bushes hung with glossy berries, red and purple and black, and small trees hung with oddly-shaped fruits you’ve never seen before. You exhale. “It smells like …” Springtime, you think, before the heat comes and crushes the leaves into pulp and withers the petals off the flowers. “Home,” says Emil wistfully, “to me.”—no, not this moment. After. Something happened after. Something that uprooted everything you thought you had known about Emil.

Something hot splatters onto you, the searing pain clearing the fog of memory that dulls your mind. The liquid immediately begins to evaporate. Steam rises off from the side of your face, and you realise it is the Titan’s blood from an early wound Franz or Karl had inflicted.

Blood.

A Titan’s blood.

Titans bleed.

They bleed just like you.

Men bleed and die. Therefore, it must be logical that when Titans bleed … they die.

It means you can kill them.

They are not invincible.

Only that thought matters—a truth you’ve always known, and yet it has never struck you as important as right now. They bleed, they bleed, they bleed. They hurt, they hurt, they hurt. The monsters from your childhood bleed and hurt, and therefore, you can kill them.

Through the fog of your helplessness, you can still see those cold, lifeless eyes and yellow, rotting teeth waiting for you, and all you can think is, This can’t be how it ends.

It is not what you have expected to think as you stare death in its hungry eyes. It’s not hopelessness, it’s just pure stubbornness. Not even so much a will to live as a refusal to die. Not yet, not now, not here, not when you have so much left to do. Thank Ida for the gloves she’s knitted you last Wîhe Naht. Thank Felix for the birch box he’s built for your trinkets as a graduation present. Spend a last day with Jean and Marco and the rest of your Corps before you go separate ways. Figure out the jumble of memories where Emil hides. Find Eren. Tell Eren that you can kind of, sort of, maybe imagine spending the rest of your life with him—and oh, what a thought that is. What a thought holding so much gravitas, so much everything that it is a miracle the Titan doesn’t drop you right then and there from the weight of that revelation.

“Our story has just begun, right? It’s time we teach them a lesson, okay?”

“Okay.”

In that moment that changes the trajectory of your life, you realise three fundamental truths at the exact same time.

Number one: For the first time in all your life you know you are more than what you fear.

Number two: There is a truth to remember about Emil, and because you remember you are given a second chance to be with him.

Number three: When you trace Eren’s name, it spells home.

You stop thinking.

Wedging your blades between your body and the fingers curled around you, you pull with all your strength, feeling the blades slice through flesh, cut into bone, break in the process. One edge grazes your leg, but you don’t feel anything—adrenaline pumps hot through your body, drowning fear and pain.

With its hold around you loosened, you wiggle out of the Titan’s grasp, quickly twisting your body to find a stable anchor point on another roof. You launch into the air—high, higher, so high that the world spins around you, leaving you dazed, but when your eyes land on the Titan, so much smaller from up high, your body knows what needs to be done.

As though it can’t follow what just happened, the Titan is still staring at his now empty hand. Steam rises from the clean cuts where his severed fingers remain unmoving.

As you change your blades, your hooks wedge into the soft spots in its neck. Slice through the nape, 1 meter and 10 centimetres. You’ve done it often enough during practice, you know exactly where to cut.

Soaring through the sky towards your target, you know it is finally time to rip up the flesh of your fears.

For your parents. For Karl and Franz. For Emil. For yourself.

The flesh yields to your sharp blades like butter to a warm knife. More blood spurts from the wound, running down the Titan’s back like a waterfall as a huge chunk of flesh falls and lands with a loud splat on the ground. You quickly manoeuvre up to a roof. The moment your foot lands on stable ground, your right leg buckles under the weight of your body—the gash in your skin from where your blade cut into your leg burns as though liquid fire spill from the wound.

Pushing aside the throbbing pain, you quickly turn and see the Titan fall face first onto the street, steam evaporating from his neck. It lies there, unmoving.

Dead. Just like that.

A shudder rips through you.

Ah. So that’s what it feels like.

Finally, you have become the hunter.

taglist: @arisu003, @brooki, @prttyangelbaby, @honeylmnade, @berriesandcrem, @im-just-star-dust, @rui-0836, @thefangirlhasarrive

#eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #phill.swyaatl #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #aot reader insert

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yan-wo · 1 month

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A silver Lucifer serves cocaine in cornucopia

To some somnambulists of adolescent thighs draped in satirical draperies

Peris in livery prepare Lethe for posthumous parvenues

Delirious Avenues lit with the chandelier souls of infusoria from Pharoah’s tombstones

lead to mercurial doomsdays Odious oasis in furrowed phosphorous

the eye-white sky-light white-light district of lunar lusts

Stellectric signs “Wing shows on Starway” “Zodiac carrousel”

Cyclones of ecstatic dust and ashes whirl crusaders from hallucinatory citadels of shattered glass into evacuate craters

A flock of dreams browse on Necropolis

From the shores of oval oceans in the oxidized Orient

Onyx-eyed Odalisques and ornithologists observe the flight of Eros obsolete

And “Immortality” mildews … in the museums of the moon

“Nocturnal cyclops” “Crystal concubine”

Pocked with personification the fossil virgin of the skies waxes and wanes

Lunar Baedeker, Mina Loy

#poetry

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k-star-holic · 8 months

Photo

"I hit Mina Myoung..." Li Joaquim, DanceBattle Feeling Before ⁇ Monica ⁇ Honestly Not Much Surprise ( ⁇ swoopa2 ⁇ )

#Battle #Mina Myoung #The Fighter #Wonder Woman #Estates of the realm #Cyan #Clark County School District #Maximilian Brückner #Mina #Ufa #Wang Feifei

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spann-stann · 2 months

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Setting Map: Viceroyalty Latinidad (REWORK)

CorpEmp Macrocommunities:

Aridoamerica: Northwest Mexico. Miffed they didn't get the Rio Grande, even in the 2800s.

Central America: Central America plus Panama minus El Salvador.

Chile: Rump Chile run by Tradcath Gremialists. At least they don't have to deal with the Mapuche anymore...

Grand Bajio: North-Central Mexico. Home to massive Neo-Chichimec and Purépecha industrial estates.

Gran Colombia: Colombia, Ecuador, and Venezuela. Bolivar was a corporatist all along!

Hispanola: Haiti, Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico. The only islands of the Greater Antilles that weren't seized by the U.M. and W.C.O.F..

Indo-Caribbean: Trinidad-Tobago and the Guyanas. The Hindu Heartland outside of VR Jambudvīpa.

Kalingo Archipelago: The Lesser Antilles (sans T-T and Montserrat), home of Carib restorationist movements.

Matto Grosso: Brazil's Center-West. Like to see themselves as the heirs of old Brazil.

Maya: Yucatan, northern Guatemala, and Belize.

Mesoamerica: Central Mexico. Declared the Nahua and Zapotec homelands, dotted with Hispano-Gaelic enclaves.

Nordeste: Brazil's northeast. Finally free from Brazilian internal neocolonialism.

North Rio Grande: Coahuila, Nuevo Leon, and Tamaulipas. Once a Texan satellite state, its relationship with the First Dynasty's home made the N. Rio Grande an influential member of VR Latinidad following its formation.

Paraguay: Slightly larger now that it's acquired the Argentine Chaco. Provinces like styling themselves as the old Jesuit Reductions.

Patagonia: Southern Argentina and Chile, the homeland for the Mapuche people, as well as some Welsh enclaves.

Peru-Bolivia: Peru and Bolivia, back together! Styles itself as Neo-Incan, with a few acquired Japanese stylings.

São Paulo: Formed from the Brazilian state, plus Minas Gerais. One community of note within is the "Confederado Tribal Zone".

(South) Rio Grande: Southernmost Brazil. Lots of German, Italian, Polish, and Ukrainian enclaves.

Tucumán: Northern Argentina. A Neo-Diaguita and Tonocote project.

Non-CorpEmp Territory:

Cordons Sanitaire: The Falklands, Mexico City, Brazil's Federal District, and a large buffer zone between Buenos Aires (U.M. territory) and Uruguay (W.C.O.F.).

Green Consensus: A good chunk of the Amazon, Galapagos, and a restored Montserrat.

United Markets: The militarist Milleist Free State (Buenos Aires), Central America's Crypto Coast, Jamaican FVEM , and the Sandals-Bahamas Free Market Zone.

World Congress of Freedom: The Zapatista Federation (Chiapas), Cuban Republic, the Rio-Santo strip (Brazil), and Peoples Republic of Uruguay.

Reserves: Millenarianist, pacifist, and survivalist enclaves across the Viceroyalty, and several (formerly) uncontacted peoples in the Amazon.

CPC Activity: Organized criminal groups use the Mexico City and Brasilia Cordons Sanitaire as staging grounds for trafficking operations. Massive depots are usually seen built and rebuilt in the Amazon. Several descendants of Guantanamo detainees have formed pirate groups in the Caribbean.

#my setting #setting #worldbuilding #setting lore

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katsuki069 · 7 months

Note

Please do a part 2, I thought part 1 was really sweet :]

Glad you liked the first part, I mostly wrote it on a whim but part 2 here we go!

Summary- You go out with Katsuki and friends and get overwhelmed

1.1k words

After a few days of adjustment, Katsuki was accustomed to your constant uneasiness. He was always nearby, ready to tell you to sit and to hold his hand. He was better at keeping you calm than any pill you’d ever tried. Katsukis continual presence eased your mind and helped you get through the days.

After a few days of following you around the apartment and work, you felt comfortable enough to go elsewhere with him. You looked down at your phone, a new message popping up from your friends group chat. The group was going to go shopping in a hour and you were arranging to go with them. Everything was in place, except for the fact that you weren’t ready yet. Hopping out of bed, you went to the corner of the room and picked out a nice outfit that was both comfortable and would look nice while you were out with friends. You got dressed in faded black jeans and a gray tank top with a white flannel to cover your shoulders. Once dressed, you exited the room to see Katsuki waiting by the door, “What’s going on?” he asks as he sniffs the air. “You smell excited.” he states. You only smile up at him as you take his hand and walk to the front door, handing him his service vest. “We’re going out? Where?” he asks as his massive tail wags behind him. “Some friends of mine invited me out, so we’re gunna go shopping!” you declared as you put on some sneakers. Katsuki got on his vest along with a leash that clipped to the front. He never liked how the leash made him look like a pet, but he knew it was necessary.

Soon enough the both of you were ready to leave and out the door, walking to the nearby shopping district everyone had agreed to meet at. As the two of you walked you held the end of his leash tightly, fidgeting with the frayed tip. Katsuki looked down at you before placing a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, it’s alright. We’re just going to see your friends.” He remarked encouragingly. You nodded in agreement as the two of you entered the mall and waited on a nearby bench. You pulled out your phone, texting everyone that you were there and waiting. Immediately you got a message back, it was an image. Opening it, you saw it was a photo of you with your head down. Looking up you saw the sender of the message, your friend Sero. You stood up and dropped Katsukis leash, giving Sero a tight hug. He chuckled “Did ya miss me or something?” he asks jokingly but you still nodded in response. Releasing him, you sit back in your seat next to Katsuki. “Katsuki, this is my friend Sero. We went to high school together. Sero this is Katsuki, he’s my emotional support.” you explain as you introduce the two. Sero nods and extends his hand which Katsuki took and shook.

After a small wait and some chatter, the rest of your group arrived. Introductions went by fast and soon you all were walking from store to store. Katsuki stood by your side as much as he could, only being a few feet away when you went into rooms to try on clothes. The day was fast-paced and you were feeling overwhelmed by the fifth store. But not wanting to ruin the mood for everyone else you remained silent, following them from behind with a slower pace. After another three stores you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to take a break. Walking up to Mina you tapped her arm, grabbing her attention before speaking, “I’m gonna go for a bit, don’t wait up for me.” She looked at you, concern in her eyes, before she answered, “Alright, call me if ya need anything.” You hummed in response as you turned around and left the group behind.

Once you were outside you could feel the tremors in your hands and the shaking of your knees. Katsuki wrapped an arm around your waist to help you stand better, knowing all too well that you were a fainter if things got too bad. You leaned against him, trying to find comfort as you felt an anxiety attack quickly approaching. He looked down at you, noticing your current state before coaxing you towards a bench and sitting you down. Sitting down helped your body relax a bit, but your mind was still racing. Your hands shook as you tried to voice that you needed help, but words refused to be formed. Looking up to Katsuki, you wordlessly asked for help, pleading with your eyes for him to sit next to you. He sat beside you on the bench and pulled you into his chest, gently embracing you. You hugged him tightly as you tried to bring your breathing back to a normal tempo. Hearing your heart beating in your ears was no help at all, though. The thudding through your mind only reminded you of how the stress was affecting your body. Katsuki placed his hand on your arms and lightly pushed you back, “Take deep breaths.” He orders. Nodding in understanding, you struggle to do as he says. Your breaths coming in sharp choppy gasps of air, trying to get oxygen to your body. He holds your arm firmly with one hand as the other tilts your face up to look at him. “Copy me.” he commands, as he begins demonstrating how he wanted you to breathe. Katsuki assisted you for the next twenty minutes, gently aiding you through your panic and rubbing your arms.

After what felt like forever, your breathing was finally stable and your tremors had lessened. “T-thank you, Katsuki.” you said, finally finding your words. He smiled down at you as he then asked, “Are you okay now?” You nodded. “Think you can get up?” “Yeah, I should be okay.” you replied. He stood up, holding out his arm for you. You smiled at him before taking his arm and standing. “Wanna go find your friends now?” He asks. You think for a short moment before you answer, “I think I’m ready to go back home, I feel alright now but I don’t think I’m well enough to keep going.” Katsuki nods before taking your small hand in his and walking you back home.

Once at home the both of you changed into some comfortable clothes, you in some sleep shorts and a large t-shirt, and Katsuki in some gray sweatpants. You sat on the living room couch and turned on the TV, soon feeling the couch dip as Katsuki sat next to you. You look at him with a small smile before scooting closer and leaning against him. For the rest of the day the two of you stayed in and watched TV while cuddling until you both fell asleep on the couch, you laying on Katsuki with your head on his chest and him with his head back on the couch and his arms wrapped around you.

#bnha #mha #mha bakugou #mha sero #mha mina #mha x reader #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #emotional support #werewolf #part 2 #idk what else to tag

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mafioseo · 2 months

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masterlist ;

minors dni | minors + ageless blogs will be blocked

genres: 🐍 = drama | 🦷 = smut | ⛓️ = angst | 💐= fluff

nct 127:

kim jungwoo: magdalena (m): 1959: minas gerais, brazil. jungwoo kim is a young friar of the dominican order, rumored to be a living saint—wherever he goes, little miracles seem to follow. upon arriving in the city of belo horizonte, however, he finds his faith will be tested the hardest it’s been in years; and the test has not just one name, but two. once y/n l/n, now magdalena: former darling of high mineiran society, current reigning queen of belo horizonte’s red light district. 🐍⛓️🦷

nct dream: none yet

wayv: none yet

skz: none yet

#skz x reader #nct x reader #stray kids x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct dream imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #blog nav

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btshoseong · 9 months

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👣. !!: HIS BACKGROUND ‧₊˚

↺ 💌 ࣪ ˖ ∿ author’s note , @ tw for : childbirth , burglary , mentions of abuse , child abuse ( burglars who rob seong’s house knock him unconscious ) , eating disorder ( seong is made fun of for being malnourished, loss of appetite with eating ) , mentions of fainting , mentions of suicide , mentions of mental health ( survivor’s guilt and ptsd ) , mentions of death threats

wow i legit was not expecting to add so many triggers but baby seongie has really been through it bro, kinda nearly teared up at one point writing this 🥲 anyways enjoy.

⊂ HIS ✶ CHILDHOOD ⊃

PARK HOSEONG was born on December 30th, 1994 to parents Park Jaehyeong and Park Mina within Buk-gu District, Daegu, South Korea. Hoseong recalls his mother telling him about the birth, and how it had actually taken place right at home in their little bathtub due to some flooding in the area. It had been a very risky endeavour, but luckily Hoseong had come out healthy, immediately crying for his mother who would coo as she coddled him close.

GROWING UP, THEY were pretty well off. Of course, they weren’t exactly rich, but they had enough money to comfortably get by at the time due to Jaehyeong’s years travelling as a musician with his band. He had accumulated some wealth for them to move into a small two bedroom apartment where Hoseong was offered a room to himself whilst his parents shared the other. Life was doing them well, and about four years after Hoseong’s birth, his little sister would then be born too.

EVEN BEFORE SHE had come out of the womb, Hoseong had adored his little sister dearly. He would often come up to his mother almost everyday and would ask her if it’s time yet, to which his mother would laugh at him and tell him “she needs a little more time than just a couple of days if you want her to be strong enough to play with you”. Hoseong would sing songs to his little sister a lot, often rubbing his mother’s belly and getting so excited when she would kick. He really just enjoyed the idea of having someone to play with, to take care of and protect. He was very good at being a brother figure.

IT WAS AROUND SIX years of age, though, when Hoseong and his family’s lives would truly be turned upside down. He was so young; it was a terrible event to have to endure. His parents had taken his little sister, Park Sohee, with them to buy some new clothes as she was getting older. Hoseong had decided he would stay at home with a babysitter. The girl was their neighbour’s daughter and attended high school, and even she had suffered at the hands of the bastards that had burgled their home that night.

HIDING UNDER THE table in his bedroom, Hoseong was advised to cover his ears tightly, and that no matter what, he wasn’t to come out of that room. He still hears her screams to this day – how she had begged for them to leave, and how she’d defended his home ultimately to fall victim to their ghastly abuse. They had taken everything. They barely left a trace of his old life.

THE SCREAMING, the kicking and crying and punching. It had been too much for him. He knew this girl – she’d always been so sweet, and would take care of him even when he threw tantrums sometimes, and the people outside his bedroom door were clearly hurting her badly. He knew he was advised against it, but he’d opened that door and fought tooth and nail, until his last breath before he was knocked unconscious completely. He still has the scar from when he’d hit the table as he collapsed.

HIS PARENTS HAD probably never recovered either. They had come back to a nearly empty house, with their son on the floor and bleeding from an injury to his head. The babysitter was in a far worse condition beside him. She hadn’t been able to go back to normal life after that. Her face was never the same, and her parents blamed the Park family for all of it. Hoseong had recovered far better, after all. Why was he so lucky?

AFTER THIS INCIDENT, they had nothing. Nobody would help them, and they had to sell the house in order to pay for daily necessities such as tuition fees and food. Jaehyeong used some of the spare cash that he received from his street singing in order to pay for Hoseong’s judo classes. He wanted his son to be able to defend himself from such incidents if they were to occur again. His parents had sacrificed a lot for him.

⊂ PRE ✶ DEBUT ⊃

AS HOSEONG PROGRESSED into his teenage years, he started to understand more deeply about the situation his family was in. His mother tried to find a job, but she wasn’t educated enough to earn high wages. Jaehyeong was working a few odd jobs, from his singing to delivering newspapers and magazines, carrying loads and dumping them into trucks. Hoseong wanted to start helping out more actively so by the age of 13, he had been able to obtain a work permit in his name.

HIS PARENTS HAVE ALWAYS tried very hard to put food on the table for Hoseong and Sohee, but because his sister was so much younger, they would pay more attention to her needs. Hoseong never took it to heart. He had grown to be mature very quickly in these circumstances, and would often share his own meals and put the food on Sohee’s plate. This meant that he was pretty malnourished himself, and so many employers wouldn’t take him on in case he collapsed due to exhaustion or other issues. That meant that Hoseong, too, could only complete odd jobs in order to support his parents and sister.

HE WORKED TIRELESSLY. As soon as he would arrive home from school, he would be leaving just as quickly to earn some extra cash. His main motivation was to never let Sohee feel the losses of poverty. He didn’t want her to have to pass up on good opportunities or feel ashamed of their family situation, and so a lot of the money he earned would go to her studies, books and clothes. He only ever had time to himself during the night where he would sometimes stay up to watch reruns of M Countdown.

HIS FATHER HAD CAUGHT him singing to himself on more than one occasion. Hoseong, although untrained, still had a beautiful singing voice in Jaehyeong’s eyes. He had asked Hoseong if he wanted to accompany him whenever he would go out to sing on the streets of Daegu – not as a part time job, but to live. Jaehyeong had always used singing as his outlet for all the things that he wished to run away from, and it seemed to be that his talent was passed down to Hoseong too. The boy had agreed with wide eyes.

AND THAT WAS HOW HE had been scouted by JYP. He had many original songs he would write in his free time, and his dad had given him the opportunity to be able to sing these in public to an audience that absolutely adored him. He remembers so many big names, talent agencies contacting his dad asking him to audition for them, and he did. He was accepted into JYP with open arms, and he had actually been a trainee there for one solid year before finding out about GLOSS being recruited into Bighit Entertainment.

GLOSS WAS A PRETTY recognised name within the underground rap scene in Daegu. Hoseong would hear comments about him from people when he was working, and even from classmates who would actually attend these battles that took place. He’d only attended the underground rap scene once, and GLOSS had been the most vivid memory of his night there. He knew the man had talent, and even looked up to his lyrics, so hearing him be recruited into another company only meant he had to follow suit.

HOSEONG HAD JOINED Bighit Entertainment because of Min Yoongi. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure of taking such a big step. Bighit, at the time, had no reputation at all. They were a small company with minimal experience, and JYP had far more to offer him, but his instincts had told him to take the risk, and honestly as the years went by during his trainee period, he was beginning to at least be thankful to the friends he had made along the way.

OF COURSE IT WASN’T all sunshines and rainbows. He knew he had to work hard in order to excel and shine, especially after finding out this was supposed to be a hip-hop group in the end. He needed to learn rap, needed to learn dance, and maintain an ideal weight if he wished to not be belittled or kicked from the company.

A LOT OF THE BOYS THERE would actually make fun of Hoseong’s appearance behind his back. He dealt with a lot of self image issues, and ate even less as a result of his lost appetite. He knew maintaining a low weight was the ideal for debuting and being accepted in the eyes of the staff, so he had actually found it as a win that he didn’t eat so much. It was only Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok who would actively encourage him to eat more.

AS THE YEARS WENT BY, more trainees would join. This meant more competition for Hoseong who would work day and night to perfect every aspect of his craft for monthly evaluations. He would collapse from over exhaustion sometimes after practicing so late into the night and not getting enough sleep. Debuting meant more to him than anything, because if he didn’t debut, then his parents’ sacrifices would have been for nothing. Him being here wasn’t for him, but for his parents. He needed to give back for all that they had lost, for pushing through even when they were at their lowest point.

HIS BIGGEST WISH WAS to make sure his parents never felt the pain of poverty again.

⊂ DEBUT ✶ & BEYOND ⊃

HOSEONG HAD CRIED for hours on the day their debut was announced. He always kept low expectations in order to not be disappointed, and so when he first heard the news, he had genuinely thought it was some sort of prank. It had taken all of the members collectively to convince him that yes, this was really real. None of them had known what to do, but they ended up having a long cookout late into the night together. It had been a fond memory.

WHAT HADN’T BEEN A fond memory, however, was the mistreatment that they would face in the following years after. They were aware that they had to work twice as hard to be recognised since they were from such a small company, but Hoseong particularly remembers the way they were ignored by media outlets and belittled for their concept. He understood that not everybody savoured hip-hop, but receiving so many dismissals for a request to simply spread their message with people seemed just a little malicious.

AND THEN, NOT EVEN three years into their debut, Hoseong was informed that Park Sohee had died by suicide. He had to deal with so much grief, later finding out that his little sister was being bullied in school because of her poor background and her brother’s “flop group”. She couldn’t handle all of the insults. She internalised them to a point that she believed the only way out was by suicide. Hoseong couldn’t have felt more guilty. He had to take a break from the group’s projects and even developed survivor’s guilt and PTSD which he needed to attend therapy for. His life felt like it was collapsing all over again.

THE GROUP WOULD RECEIVE continuous criticism and death threats. They were hated by fans of other groups and received shady comments from some sunbaes, and all of these experiences were hardest for Hoseong to bare. The members knew he was in a vulnerable place, and so instead of listening to all of these outsiders, they began to encourage each other more. Namjoon was one of the biggest forces during this time in Hoseong’s life and the group’s image. He helped Hoseong to push through, always telling him about how they would have the last laugh.

FAST FORWARD TO AROUND 2O16, and things were finally starting to look up a little bit. They had won their very first Daesang, and Hoseong doesn’t think he could have been happier than he was in that moment. He remembers that even his parents had called him that night, crying as they congratulated him for his hard work and recognition. He deserved this, and that first win simply solidified his resolve to keep going.

THEIR LOVE YOURSELF SERIES had been Hoseong’s favourite. It was the era; one that showered him with so much love and care from ARMY that he couldn’t help but break down into tears on stage. It was an overwhelming experience, and a very healing one as well. With everyone’s help, he had begun to truly understand what it was like to let go and start to love himself. He doesn’t think he could ever truly go back to the way things were without ARMY.

STEADILY, THROUGH THEIR UPS and their downs, BTS’s career would skyrocket into international stardom. There was no way but up now, and they began to grow and grow, larger and larger, all the way until their present day today. Chapter 1 has been such a glorious ride; Hoseong has grown and gained new experiences and insights, and he honestly wishes to continue his career as an idol for far more years to come.

THEIR SUCCESS HAS IMPACTED him in a way where he just doesn’t have any words. Sometimes a little voice will creep in to ask him if he really deserves it, but it is quashed quickly by the everlasting love that he receives no matter where he is. There’s people talking about him from all walks of life, telling others about how he helped them overcome many of their own difficulties, or how sweet he is and just how much he gives back to fans too.

IF SOMEONE WERE TO ASK HIM if he’s achieved his dream, he thinks he could finally say yes and mean it.

💬 — HOSEONG’S TAGLIST.

@pandorasword , @ateezsora , @bts-dream , @fairiepoems , @kaitieskidmore97

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