#after he helps you execute literally all of the rest of your friends

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

Beremuntena the Brave—notable but generally unremembered Executioner of Saints—finally grasps the true meaning of People Die When They Are Killed 😔😟

[eightmakesonebraincell]

ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 12.8k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)

hongjoong

pov: you're the king's royal courtesan

“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”

when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head

he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness

“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”

“i don’t,” he simply says

and it’s true

hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness

he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls

hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans

it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king

the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?

he never sees the same courtesan more than once

“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”

you smirk when he curses and throws his head back

his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low

“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”

he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck

you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status

part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer

you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you

lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services

it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another

whether the rumours about his stamina will be true

whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule

except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever

lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer

lady shin is not amused to say the least

with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead

and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for

(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)

(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)

your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed

you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”

“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts

you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching

“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”

for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too

“as if. fuck off”

your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation

“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour

when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you

hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you

he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you

hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants

when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”

“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back

he raises an eyebrow

oh yeah?

he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm

now that shuts you up

for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name

and another request turns into another

and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name

but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship

he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings

he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring

you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything

“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”

“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings

he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with

you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open

you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him

except, when you look up to see if he’s following?

his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you

“were you even paying attention?”

he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all

in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet

he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke

he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times

you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway

there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too

(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)

you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him

when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past

“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”

lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder

she laughs then asks to have a look

you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise

“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery

“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify

you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’

lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you

“it says, my flower”

you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later

lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her

“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”

this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you

you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan

and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall

my flower

you hesitate

“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”

lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her

the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now

you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet

(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)

you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway

and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand

it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours

not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy

and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day

“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him

he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”

then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”

“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”

said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again

“no i’m not!”

“whatever you say,” you smirk

after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later

which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much

but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long

you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift

yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass

you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth

he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”

you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone

guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed

“do you trust me?” he whispers

trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”

you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift

you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air

and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing

“you can look now,” he tells you

you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect

it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus

and you gasp

there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon

“try it on,” he encourages

but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing

it’s patchy

it’s uneven

it has empty areas

but it is no doubt embroidery

“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you

“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”

“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”

you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing

he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him

upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”

you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”

he looks at you impossibly soft

under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core

you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers

it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue

so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth

you suck on them a little harder

a little deeper

and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”

he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches

“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall

“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”

he doesn’t need further encouragement

he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds

it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them

he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly

then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp

“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you

the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room

and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name

he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers

he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs

when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs

a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter

“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”

it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time

your mouth drops in disbelief

when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”

“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”

“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”

you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”

he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips

“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”

“very good plan,” you grind up against him

and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”

hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny

“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”

seonghwa

pov: you're his royal guard

as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away

you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety

one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear

they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear

from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits

seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though

unsurprising but still grating

the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside

albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left

it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen

the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see

“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks

“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile

you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map

on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt

you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch

because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention

but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either

so you strike in his stead

your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping

his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee

scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him

"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle

"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"

"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins

“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”

he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”

“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”

“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”

you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up

it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector

it has been almost four years since it happened

somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him

you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator

an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle

seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution

to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned

you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement

it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him

as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision

“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge

not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness

and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him

you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang

quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked

neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows

he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again

you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly

it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism

one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more

where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice

“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him

“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort

yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with

where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield

you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike

you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status

and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself

where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution

your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for

he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway

you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew

but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him

as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way

seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him

he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you

(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)

(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)

you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with

after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you

not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face

yes.

especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies

he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song

seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck

except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness

the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth

you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you

needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping

but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it

like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers

it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects

conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room

everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon

when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet

and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls

baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting

“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice

he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed

as if they are-

“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”

okay

most definitely proudly 

you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger

“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to

“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”

“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else

that is more than enough for him, though

which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things

he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth

you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter

you wonder if his lips will taste the same…

but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind

because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow

how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?

so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship

you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation

seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together

it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart

he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of

and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…

in love with you

following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around

but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts

until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace

seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail 

then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder

you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-

until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land

it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side

when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief

“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell

“i-”

taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”

“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer

“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”

for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing

seonghwa swallows

“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”

your throat tightens at his words

it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips

he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes

“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”

“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation

“because i’m in love with you” 

right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response

“then that makes the two of us,” you confess

you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop

you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side

raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips

it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile

you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him

“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”

you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you

“does this mean i get to retire?”

yunho

pov: you're part of a rebel group

the crown prince is not in his fucking library

for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night

until today

under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing

except doing that would make your job significantly harder…

considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.

you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch

following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash

a leash made of barbed wire

people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline

although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s

within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters

the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination

dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners

and you are amongst the elite team

which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince

except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong

which never happens

you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine

he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards

you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave

only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof

their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same

you run

you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room

when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs

this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long

if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards

so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower

keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump

you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees

then you wait

he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground

“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm

you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”

now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-

wait

even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same

the same as those on the elite team

“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions

except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build

being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours

he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet

when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”

we

he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team

you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him

“when is red most beautiful?”

it is a vague question with a fixed answer

one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself

during the sunrise of a new beginning 

“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely

the tension releases from your shoulders 

“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”

the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease

you both flip over the top and land in unison

the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest

the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols

you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps

and then you hear it

the shattering clang of a desperate parry

all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut

you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords

bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you

several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury

it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you

and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate

you have the element of surprise

but only for the next few seconds

you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing

there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed

you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them

except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away

the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive

but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them

you.

you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword

the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness

in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam

you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand

but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling

“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder

you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground

you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries

there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse

which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks

how did he know about the attack in the first place?

you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him

except…the man has disappeared

and so has the intruder’s body

days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library

you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise

this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line

you spot him

he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments

you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer

you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles

and there the crown prince stands

he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy

mercy that you have no intention of showing him

the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none

“it’s you again, isn’t it?”

you freeze

the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you

“you were here a few days ago”

fuck

how he knows you have no idea

what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well

the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy

“you are part of red sun, are you not?”

this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel

it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does

what the actual fuck

you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy

“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”

his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”

“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff

but then his next words change everything

“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”

before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince

“hide,” he hisses urgently

and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible

you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf

“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say

from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”

“of course, crown prince yunho”

even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice

they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”

“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”

“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”

yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them

is this the same crown prince as the rumours?

and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?

you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face

he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility

“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask

your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you

but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level

“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”

your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor

because how is any of this possible?

you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you

it makes you feel so strange

the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier

yunho starts to explain

a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people

thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined

in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning

a new leadership

except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked

“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”

he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”

yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained

he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence

“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry

yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”

you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look

yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-

“a suicide pill?” 

you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing

the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like

you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves

but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb

it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar

yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given

whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well

there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho

but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends

you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence

except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle

other times he is the one trying to fluster you

“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”

“i was taking the pill out to show you!” 

you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap

“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”

he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”

other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on

“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes

and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly

“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”

you swallow hard

you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up

“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side

you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee

and eventually, you two have a breakthrough

yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine

in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’

“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs

you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder

pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two

they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious

“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”

you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea

he doesn’t - not at first

not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image

“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”

the king’s butler?

lee?

your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours

“lee minjun”

you sink back in your seat

there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved

the question of why and what for remains

in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too

there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future

yunho breaks the silence first

“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”

after this all ends

you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too

you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne

the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon

the new beginning is close

and at that, something in you relaxes

crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief

“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”

and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once

ironically, yunho chokes on air

you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes

you think your eyes are deceiving you because-

the tips of his ears are a glowing red

you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess

the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”

“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles

“and why is that?” you humour him

he finally looks at you

and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours

“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”

yeosang

pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him

ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang

it just made sense

for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies

it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding

so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love

and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned

if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang

he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room

he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard 

they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger

you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”

if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now

you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy

if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid

stupidly in love

because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince

unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing

it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world

but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written

the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace

it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage

you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter

whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words

whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him

two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom

and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter

your whole life you have been able to wait patiently

you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity

the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace

even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him

nothing can bring you down from cloud nine

only…the letter never comes

not the day after, not the week after, not the month after

you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up

you send him another letter, and then another, and another

sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said

other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears 

and you also wonder about him

you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are

with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits

you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply 

until-

you do.

it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile

with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded

your mind races with anticipated words and explanations

perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier

or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit

you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-

stop sending me letters.

and just like that, the clock strikes twelve

your carriage reverts into a pumpkin

and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes

you don’t write to him again.

years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them

they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son

now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife

really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can

you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed

she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”

“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”

you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you

“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully

“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”

you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”

“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals

caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before

you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless

later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”

before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff

there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway

heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning

the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting

you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again

if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish

“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”

when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none

“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”

you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”

“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”

oh?

flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself

because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang? 

first the vase, and now this

you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud

your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much

when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky

you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up

you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions

and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-

“are you okay?”

yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door

he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”

thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind

you start with half truths

“just missing my little brother”

“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”

you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon

it implies he’s noticed you

“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod

something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name

you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently

“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”

“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth

“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind” 

it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b

yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes

when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly

“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”

you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”

“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”

it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky

“yeah, that’s okay”

you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance

it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences

you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him

the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters

because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up

as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore

“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice

yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open

and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says

“you wrote me letters?”

your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception

“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”

“impossible. i never got your letters” 

your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”

“wait,” he interrupts

yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”

upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp

it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar

“not the seal, no”

he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”

you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment

“but then-”

but then who wrote the letter?

and where did all your letters go?

the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju

a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile

no, not a smile, you realise

a smirk

you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness

yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful

“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him

it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately

“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”

“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”

he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers

“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly

then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought

he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these” 

he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously

���forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around

“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands

and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”

yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers

you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know

eight flowers

eight letters

i l-o-v-e y-o-u

[disneyprincemuke]

get this right * aa23

the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: literally nOthing just a buNCH OF CUTE SHIT

notes: YALL i’ve been simping for this man for like weeks but in my head, he’s just such a sweetheart that i can’t imagine him in bad situations and nOW I FINALLY GOT IT

also… i’m really liking these multiple scenario fics… if you guys have any suggestions with stuff you want to see, please feel free to send them in here and this has been in my drafts since october oh my gooooood

(f1 masterlist)

“you’re telling me you already bought the ring?” max raises an eyebrow at alex, completely baffled at the story his friend has chosen to bestow upon them.

to the question, alex nods. his head snaps to george, who then asks, “and you’ve had it for almost a month?”

again, the thai nods. “and you have yet to propose?” lando says his piece, just as shocked as the rest of the table is.

alex can only nod, dropping his head in disappointment. in the middle of their circular table sat a red velvet box. inside it is the ring that alex had very carefully picked out with his sisters and mother.

yet the diamond ring sits comfortably in the box instead of your finger. and so does he amongst his friends while he faces the million dollar questions as to why he’s had the ring and has yet to propose to you.

“are you having second thoughts?” charles speaks up, tilting his head and biting his lips in curiosity.

if the answer were to be a ‘yes’, that would be worrisome. considering alex is one of the more romantic people they all know.

“no,” alex finally speak, putting a firm hand down on the table. he meets all of their eyes and feels the judgement. he sighs. “i’m not having second thoughts. i want to marry (y/n) just as much as i said before.”

george lifts his hands up and throws alex a questioning shrug. “so what’s holding you back then?”

“well…” alex chews on the inside of his cheek. he glances down at the box and scrunches up his nose, recounting the numerous times he has tried to get on one knee for you.

“i’m afraid it’s really not that simple.”

-> 20 days ago

alex glances at the door of your shared apartment then his eyes jump to the clock hanging just above your decorative plant. you should be home any minute.

the living room has been decorated beautifully with the help of his sisters. there is a singular heart helium balloon tied down to the bouquet of roses that sits on the kitchen island.

he’s even dressed up in his best suit to greet you a warm welcome home.

he sinks further into his couch, shaking his leg in anticipation. he runs his thumb over the velvet material of the box.

alex hadn’t been planning on proposing to you so soon, if he were to be honest. but he woke up that morning to empty half of the bed, with a note in your handwriting reminding him how much you love him and that breakfast is on the table.

his heart felt so full and he just knew today is the day.

so he got up and called his sisters up. they decorated the house together. with their help, he at least has the slightest idea of what to say to you.

it would be embarrassing if he was stuttering every 5 seconds thinking of what to say to you next.

it was 15 minutes later that he started to get worried about you. you usually get home from work around the same time whenever he’s in town — give or take about 5 minutes.

as if you’d read his mind, his phone lights up with a text notification from you.

my car died. can you pick me up please?

without another question, he is already typing a response to let you know that he will be on the way. he adds on the fact that he will call a tow truck for you after you send him your location.

when he gets there, he sighs in relief that you’re safe. he’d already known you were stuck in the parking lot of a mcdonald’s, but how can he really know when he’s rarely home?

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car, eating some ice cream with your phone propped up a box of nuggets. you’re fully occupied by a video you’ve put on to accompany yourself during the wait.

“my love, why didn’t you sit in the car where the seat’s more comfortable?” alex asks as he opens the car door.

you turn your head and open your mouth with an answer, but immediately close it when he comes into view. your eyes scan him up and down, slowly gulping the remaining ice cream in your mouth.

you point at him with the spoon of your mcflurry. “why are you dressed all fancy? you were gonna go out, love?”

alex freezes. he hadn’t even thought of changing out of his outfit before coming to get you. now he has to scrape his brain for an excuse to throw you off, without sabotaging the relationship whole.

it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head. you’ll totally buy the excuse. “i was giving my clothes a test run,” he giggles sheepishly, but hesitantly from the daggers you were shooting at him. “wanted to see what fit and what didn’t.”

he can almost envision the gears turning in your head as you process his lie. he sighs again when you turn away to lock your phone.

he’s a very bad liar. for two people who have been together for as long as you’ve been, it’s very easy to spot all his telltales.

he tries his best not to lie to you. today is when he’s exerting every single ounce of his ability to do so.

“my car battery died. i saw a screw lose when i’d checked,” you explain, gently climbing off the back of your car. you waddle over to him, lips puckered up as he bends down to meet your lips. “i’m sorry to trouble you, love. i’m sure you were enjoying your fashion show.”

he chuckles, pulling you in for a quick hug. “anything for you, my love.” he walks over to where you are and opens the mcdonald’s paper bag. “oh, you bought us dinner?”

“you dinner,” you correct him. you lean slightly into him with a loud and frustrated huff with your arms hanging around him loosely. “i’ve had such a long day at work today. it could really be deemed as the worst day; i just want to go home and relax.”

alex scrambles in his mind, thinking of several ways he can deviate you from the house a little longer. he makes a mental note to text his sister to do a quick cleanup before you make your way home.

he simply refuses to propose to you when you’re in a bad mood. he doesn’t think your answer would change depending on how you currently feel, but it just doesn’t feel right.

alex hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you. “what do you say we go to our spot up in the hills and chill for a little bit?”

he watches you in anticipation. if you didn’t agree, he really wouldn’t know what to do at all. there are only so many excuses he can make. and there's only so much time before his sisters can get to the apartment and get cleaning.

“hm, okay." you lean into him and squeeze him in your hug. “anywhere with you is relaxing.”

-> 18 days ago

so alex shall try again in the planned department. he is once again in your shared apartment. there is a singular rose this time with dinner on the table. this time, decorated by himself.

he’s practised in the mirror. what he should say. everything he had planned out a few days ago is forgotten as the nerves are slightly different this time.

he doesn't get nervous often, but whenever it comes to you, it's inevitable that it bothers him. when it first happened, it was a confusing feeling that he spent days pondering what exactly it is.

when george smacked his head and told him, he looked down shyly at the ground and nodded.

he got the same feeling when he asked you to be his girlfriend and met your parents.

his chosen seat is a bar stool this time, and he plays some games on his phone to remain calm and collected. though still a little bit distracted.

his attention is split between the phone in his hands and the door. occasionally, the footsteps in the hallway make his heart stop as he looks up and waits for a lock to click. it's never the door he wants to open.

his game is briefly interrupted, his mother's picture flashing on the screen while his phone buzzes. it's not unusual that she's calling, but it is a bit of a shock since she knows he's planning to propose tonight.

he picks up the call, an explanation as to why he hasn't texted at the tip of his tongue.

“i’m sorry, sweetie,” his mother’s panicked voice comes through the phone. “can you please come over? it’s an emergency.”

that’s all he needed to hear before he was darting all over the apartment. he’s popped the balloon, as there was clearly no need for it tonight, the rose is hiding behind a bunch of folded shirts in his drawer and the velvet red box goes back into the deepest pit of his underwear drawer.

this time, he remembers to change out of his clothes. it’s slightly less put together than before, but it was still an effort.

“alex, love?” the sound of the door opening makes him perk up. your voice bounces through the apartment, followed by the pitter-patter of the cats’ nails against the hardwood floor. “are you home?”

he stumbles out of your bedroom, pulling up his sweatpants. “i need to go over to mum’s.”

you stop dead in your tracks, the door still held open and the key in your hands. clearly, you notice his panic in the way he’s barely even greeted you. you raise your eyebrows and step aside, leaving a gap for him to go through the door.

“i can drive you if you want,” you offer him, watching him jog towards the car keys.

he’s shaking, and it’s noticeable from the way he’s struggling to find his wallet. his wallet that is very clearly sitting above the shoerack in the entryway.

you grab it swiftly and say his name. it makes him stop briefly, turning to you as he held up the couch’s cushion, still in search of his wallet.

you lift up the leather item and then show him your car keys. you nudge your head towards the hallway. “come on, i’ll drive.”

-> 10 days ago

third time's the charm, right? right?

alex sits in his chair, hands fixing his collar, then his hair, picking at the menu, and then the lace table cover.

"hey, love," you say from behind him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "i'm sorry i'm late. there was traffic in the parking lot at the office."

"don't worry about it. i just arrived not too long ago." alex gets up to his feet, pulling you in for a tight hug. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before running over to pull your seat back for you.

you thank him with the squeeze of his arm while you take your seat. you grab the menu and get comfortable in your seat. "have you looked at the menu yet?"

"not yet, i was waiting for you."

he feels like a stalker watching you from across the table. his hand is in his jacket's pocket, rubbing circles over the velvety material once more. when exactly is the right time to ask you?

"how was work?" alex starts, taking the menu into his hands, looking at you shyly as he awaits your response.

"it's alright. nothing out of the ordinary from me," you mutter with a shrug, flashing him a small grin before returning your attention to the menu. "the pasta looks good, don't you think?"

"i saw their salmon dish online - that looked good," alex answers. but he's been on the same page of the menu for a hot minute, his eyes have read the same item so many times that he has its description memorised.

all he can think of is how to transition to popping the question.

"it does look delicious... do you want to share a dessert after too?" you inquire, looking up at him with a huge smile. "i really want the lava cake."

"with vanilla ice cream?"

"of course!"

and you make small talk with him. which almost makes him forget the ring that's in the pocket of his jacket. you talk and he thinks and thinks and tries to find the perfect time to pop the question to you.

until your smile drops and your head angles to the side slightly. your lips part as your eyes move from his, over to the door in pure shock.

"love, what's wrong?" alex follows your moving gaze.

and he also freezes in his seat. it's his ex-girlfriend. the same exact person that you'd mentioned you thought you could never live up to.

all because his mother had slipped up and asked about her over casual conversation over dinner, and because you had noticed that his sisters still kept in constant contact with her.

he watches you, from the corner of his eyes, sink into your seat and drop your head. you press your lips together and give him a small smile. "maybe let's cancel dessert? i'm not very hungry."

-> now

"do you get why it's a little complicated now?" alex groans, throwing his head back. "it's not like i haven't tried."

charles presses his lips together, nodding slightly as he tries to assess the situation for himself. he hasn't proposed to anybody in his life, so what advice does he have to give his friend? "maybe you're overthinking it?"

"yeah," george nods. "maybe you just have to... ask her. just ask her."

"you're aware i'm proposing to her. i'm not just asking some random girl to be my prom date to the dance," alex lays out his situation slowly, scanning his friends' faces carefully.

they're not serious about just asking you without a whole get-up, are they? he never would have asked them if he'd known how minuscule this issue was to them. it's never as simple as just asking you to marry him.

it's an important question.

"actually, i think twiddle dee and twiddle dum have got a point," max smiles, pointing at their two other friends now rolling their eyes. "if it all keeps blowing up in your face when you plan your proposal, maybe you just need to do it when you... get the feeling. you know?"

"no."

"just do it when you're so overwhelmed at the thought of spending the rest of your life with her," george shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "would help the nerves, and it makes it more genuine."

alex shakes his head. "i don't know. that doesn't make the moment very special, now, does it?"

"just try it, and then let me know."

-> 5 days later

"love!" your excited voice fills the house, prompting alex to lift his head from the armrest of the couch.

he'd been home all day, claiming a rest day from the gym and other press commitments before he had to do it all over again this weekend for another race.

"yes, love?" alex smiles, opening his arms, watching you walk out of the kitchen and excitedly walk over to him. "what's got you so preppy?"

"love, i was outside coming home from work, and i saw the cutest little snail right outside the apartment building," you giggle, dropping your bag by the foot of the couch. you drop yourself into his arms, adjusting yourself to fit the small space that the couch provides you. "i took a picture, look!"

"you took a picture of a snail?"

"yes!" you nod. "its shell looked so beautiful. and i even moved it to the side so that nobody could step on it unknowingly. just so sad when that happens to them."

and then he knows. it hits him, then and there, while you were rambling on about how beautiful this snail's shell is, that this is the moment. this is the moment that max was talking about.

he props his head up with his hand, nodding as you zoom into the picture you'd taken.

"we should get married," alex blurts, unable to hold himself back. the ring is not even with him - it's somewhere in the back of his closet. but it doesn't even seem like a necessary accessory for him at the moment.

"what?" you tilt your head, slowly dropping your hand into your lap. you sit up and look down at him. "alex, what did you say?"

"i have the ring and everything. hold on." alex scrambles to get off his seat, but you shake your head and put a hand over his chest. you pull him back into the couch, maintaining his position next to you with a puzzled stare.

"did you just say what i thought you just said?"

"yes. and i've been trying to propose to you all month," alex sighs, "something always goes wrong: your car broke down, my mum called, then we saw my ex in the restaurant. i tried setting it up, and of course, i ask you when i don't have the ring with me."

he's flailing his arms in the air as he explains his troubles to you, ultimately throwing his hands towards the direction of your bedroom before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you. "i wanted it to be a picture-perfect moment. i wanted it to be everything you dreamt about growing up. remember?"

"so i heard you right? you're asking me to marry you?" you can barely hide the smile growing on your face, eyes tearing up as you grab his hands. "i don't care about the ring. you're asking me to marry you?"

"do you still want to? i couldn't even propose to you right."

"of course, i want to marry you," you giggle, throwing your arms around him. you pepper his cheek with kisses, alex hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans back onto the couch. "i love you, alex. you just had to ask me the question. i don't care how, where or when you'd say it."

"obviously, i didn't know that until now," alex laughs. he buries his face into your hair, making a mental note to thank max next weekend for the helpful tip.

[520cafe]

sour grapes. lost in your eyes

whilst waiting anxiously outside of the library, your eyes have been reading the same lines of text messages that has been exchanged between you and blade over and over again, like a never-ending loop and spiral of words flowing in and out of your head.

after a short while, as in defeat, you let out a sigh which apparently carried an overwhelming sense of dread for the events to come. finally mustering up some form of courage and calling upon a fake spirit, you turned a corner out of your hiding spot where you immediately caught glimpse of that all too familiar figure.

his head was down and leaning against the palm of his hand, with his navy hair covering his ruby-like eyes. yet, this did not hide his undeniable attractiveness and charm. he has not seemed to notice you slowly descend towards the table, his eyes were instead concentrated and fixed on his computer screen. it was when you pulled the chair in front of him where he eventually looked up and saw you, your eyes meeting his.

“you’re late,” blade’s deep voice was monotonous yet clear, just as you remembered. you almost felt weirdly relieved that there were no changes to this.

“i’m not late, you’re just early.” you sent him a small smile before getting your computer out of your bag, like a poorly executed attempt of trying to avoid his direct gaze. “i literally was on time.”

however, you were only responded with silence. when you moved your eyes after logging into your computer, you were met with his red eyes lazing into yours. a slight heat made its way to tint your ears a lighter shade of the falling cherry blossoms outside but he did not seemed phased at all as he continued to study your features instead of the powerpoint on his screen.

he leaned back and you managed to sneak glance at the way the corners of his lips curved upwards, feeling satisfied by your reaction to his actions. as if nothing happened, blade turned his computer towards you which displayed the details for the project. “we have a month for the project, that’s enough time. we can just focus each week on a certain task.” blade calmly explained. “for this week, i can focus on topic 1 while you can do topic 2.”

you nodded in agreement but, that does not simply erase the last few minutes that just took place, nor does it halt breaks to the millions of unpredictable and boundless thoughts that are rushing around your head like a marathon.

“don’t worry, we’ll help each other too.” a chilling voice faintly drifts to your ears as it’s soft landing sends shivers to the rest of your body. this time, the smile on blade’s face was much more prominent and evident, sending you a quiet yet reassuring message.

all you were able to do was to nod and smile back him, any awkward tensions that surrounded the air was beginning to wear off. at last, you let out one final sigh that managed to put your mind and speeding heartbeat at ease.

🍇 SOUR GRAPES 〈 06 lost in your eyes

━━ MASTERLIST. ╱ PREV. ╱ NEXT.

╰► SYNOPSIS. after being in the same tight-knit friend group for over a few months now, suspicions begin to rise when march, seele and bronya start to notice the awkward tensions between you and dan heng. little did they know, you and dan heng were once high-school sweethearts who shared a romantic and fairytale-like past where the pages only lasted for a year. this heartbreak led you to meet another unfortunate victim of cupid but that chapter flew away as quick as stardust. yet, it appears that you two were also destined to cross paths once more.

╰► [ a/n ] : went to my first anime con yesterday! my feet are killing me but it’s lowkey my fault lmao 😭 i managed to bring home many genshin, hsr and even some vtuber pins, badges and prints! anyway, i hope you all enjoyed this chapter and i hope my writing is okay?? i’m pleasantly surprised by the amount of attention the previous chapter received so tysm <3

━━ TAGLIST. @lauvwar-r @sunsethw4 @shizu-c @amyena @zephestia @loudeggbananaranch @lunavixia @twistedrxses @shinjuuz @danhenglovebot @flos-veritatis @sammy-hammy @kiwidoves @aeongiies @heartswonder @lilactaro @lunnaeclipse @m1lley0ns @hansel-the-pierrot @astro-pioneer @aquatikk @obervation-subject-753 @vellichxrr6782 @rubberduckieyourtheone @viovya @stayriki @ceylestia @starryeyedkoko @theflameofyoursoul @kalims @liminalimmortal

[yoke9494]

Baby Making. (Gojo Satoru.)

*Originally written for Songbird. (Over and done with.)

*Higher ups/Gojo clan want a baby from you and Gojo. Both of you have been dodging it for years. Until Yuji came along. (Explanation in fic.)

*Mentions of Geto. (Who's still alive and didn't go all "You obey me now." on everyone)

*Readers cursed technique is summoning curses with sound. Also is related to Sukuna in a way and has one of his tattoos on her tongue.

*Songbirds are identified by a birthmark. (three dots on their lower lip.)

*Any children she has will copy her technique along with the father. (Yes even Gojo. Just go with it. The fic didn't follow the plot much.)

Gojo bullied the reader in her first year. His nickname for her is Kiwi. (after the flightless bird)

_____________________________

You hated it here.. Always have and always will.

The memory of the higher ups forcing open your mouth to sneer at the tattoo on your tongue. The mark that tied you to the so called king of curses...

It didn't matter to them that you also had the same mark on your lip as those who were considered gods.. The Songbird clan with the power to summon controlled curses from sound.

You were supposed to be a god that died out long ago. The very last one-- rhe first one to be seen in 1,000 years.

That didn't matter to them because of the mark on your tongue. The same mark Sukuna was said to have right in the middle of his forehead.

You needed to be killed!

But then came along the Gojo Clan. Despite them being good to you all these years. They were of greedy people, greedy for power and the desire to stay at the top.

Sure they had the infamous Gojo Satoru for that. But what if they had more than one? His offspring-- six eyes plus infinity along with a Songbirds technique? Their family name could never be tarnished.

So they literally bought you for their son.. They paid sooo much money for the higher ups to keep you alive. (And they let Yaga raise you since he *along with Geto* were the ones to find you. And you basically imprinted on Yaga like a baby duck.)

You would be kept alive long enough to give them and Gojo as many heirs as you could. Also since you were technically half a curse..

Well, you could also help track the rest of Sukuna's fingers since his blood ran in your veins. They would call to you. (And they did. You were the reason the school was in possession of 6 fingers.)

But eventually You were forced to marry the white haired bully. (Even though you were in love with his best friend) But the babies were pushed back once you had shown the higher ups you were of more use on the field than at home pregnant.

Until now..

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

"The boy is to be executed--"

You cut whoever was talking off. "One child if the boy lives."

You stood next to Gojo with your arms crossed. The boy in question (Yuji Itadori) was a vessel. But this vessel was strong enough to control the King Of Curses? And they wanted him dead?!

Not on your watch. If you've been able to live all these years, then so should the boy.

Gojo slowly turned to you and smiled. Ready to say something stupid. But in reality it was a sense of pride. You've come along way from that weak, meek, Kiwi he met during his second year.

You ignored his presence as every single one of these pricks became quiet..

But of course it never lasted long. One of them cleared their throat.

"One child?"

You nodded. "One. Unless I become unfortunate enough to become pregnant with more. But I-- we will try for just one."

Their voices began to whisper and jumble together. The Gojo Clan had promised the higher up the children you and Gojo produced would be theirs to control. In order for them to stay at the top.

See.. greedy.

It was a good deal on the higher ups end. You've never been ready to have a baby just for you to give up.. And you never will be. But an innocent boy's life was on the line. And he was a boy that your already adopted son, (Megumi) wanted saved..

A voice spoke up behind you and Gojo. "A total of 4. They do not need to be born all at once, but within a year apart."

4?!

You felt Gojo lean in. "You don't need to do this."

You ignored him once again. "Only if the boy stays alive. And IF he is to be harmed by any of you or those that kiss your asses. The deal is off and I will terminate any pregnancy and be happily executed for it."

You were bluffing... -- but they didn't know that..

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

Gojo let out a dramatic sigh as you walked the schools halls.

"So. Baby huh?"

You sucked your teeth. Yes, your relationship with Gojo was much better than how it was when you were kids. But he had pushed you so hard back then, you couldn't really stand him, even as an adult when his crudeness died down..

He let out an annoying chuckle. "Shouldn't you let Suguru know? I mean--"

You grabbed Gojo by his uniform and yanked him along. For someone with long legs-- he was really dragging his ass right now.

You didn't want to talk about Suguru. Fear that guilt might make you change your mind. But.. "He knew this was going to happen eventually. He always said he'd rather not know when.."

Gojo perked up. "Oh! So I guess it's a good thing for you that he's on a mission right now huh?" He snapped his fingers. "Damnit, and here I wanted to tell him the story of how I made you shake for once."

You rounded the corner and brought him into Shoko's infirmary. Thankfully it was empty and clean.

You left him by a table. "Sit there and wait."

Gojo watched you go up to a some cabinets and snoop around. He'll admit, when you were younger there wasn't much to look at. He's seen better-- but now?

Fuck you really filled out. Body more curvy, chest fuller, ass-- Your ass was a body part he's dreamed of biting into.. He didn't want to look anywhere else as you bent down to continue your searching.

But he had to ask. "What are you looking for? Are we going to get nasty in Shoko's space? Wanna use some of her tools? We'll clean them after of course--"

You rolled your eyes. "Take off your pants so this can go quicker. And shut up-- your voice is annoying."

He didn't need to be told twice. And to be honest.. he liked it when you were mean. It made little Gojo tingle.

Gojo wasn't going to admit it, but he was already getting excited. And he couldn't really understand it.. Was it because he always wondered what you would be like in bed? Well, not always.. Not until he saw Suguru coming out of your room one night. Walking down the halls in a state he's never seen his best friend before. (Fucked out)

Maybe he was jealous? But he couldn't really be, he gave Suguru permission to have a "relationship" with you behind closed doors.

The marriage was just a favor for Yaga. So he could have the little family he wanted.

Plus it got his own family off his back!--

But again.. You had changed so much. And he couldn't help but listen to that little voice in his head that said he wanted you after all.

"Are your pants off yet?"

Oh right!

You left into a different room and he wasted no time taking everything off.-- fuck it, he took nearly everything off. Leaving him only in his underwear..

Suguru may have told him stories just to get him to shut up. And they were nasty!

Would you rip his underwear off if he took forever and teased you first? Or would you just yank his dick out and use him? He wanted to be used..

Yeah, something was wrong with him.. But he didn't care!

You walked out of the room and scrunched up your nose.

Gojo was on one of the medical tables Shoko did all her dissecting on. Nearly butt naked while he held up his ankles, spread his legs and smiled at you. "Be gentle with me. This is my first time."

You rolled your eyes and let out a dry laugh. "Doubtful."

He could feel his heart racing and his cock twitching as you got closer.

You rounded the table and stopped by his head. Oh? Did you want to sit on his face first? He could do that for a while if you wanted. He should probably prep you anyways.

He was definitely bigger than Suguru--

A plastic cup was set down by his head-- his dreams crushed!

Gojo's legs went limp and his smile dropped. "What the fuck is that for?"

You gave him a droll look as he sat up-- pissed-- disappointed-- heartbroken!

You pushed the little cup towards him while he just stared at it like it disrespected his whole clan.

You tried to mimic that same dumb smirk he always had on. "Try not to waste any. I'll have Shoko shoot your baby gravy in me when she gets back."

His mouth hung as you began to walk away. Why didn't you want to do it the old fashioned way? The fun way!

"Can I at least get some help?"

You looked back and shrugged. "I'm sure you have Internet on your phone? You can watch porn.. or look at all the naked pictures you get from random women daily."

Gojo dug out his phone from his pocket. "Phones dead."

You rolled your eyes. "Use your imagination Gojo. I got shit to do."

He began to pout. "Pleeeeease. I won't bother you for the rest of the day. Just a peek?"

A day without him bothering you would be nice.

Like a puppy he jumped up when you lifted your shirt. Only for his shoulders to drop. "Aww. Stop being like that-- Can you at least pull down the bra?"

+++++++++++

Gojo always got what he wanted.. And he wanted you to suffer.

Not because he was mad at you. No. He was hurt! You rushed him when he tried to kiss every inch of your body. He pulled out all his best excuses just to get you to let him put his mouth on your soft tits for just a minute..

He begged for you just to touch him. What were you doing to him? He doesn't beg--

He whined and pouted until you finally got tired of all his bitching. Silently celebrating when you pushed him onto the table, climbed onto him and sunk down on his cock.

He got what he wanted, but he was hurt that you expected him to basically be a two pump chump. Now he was going to milk every minute of you on top of him.

You were going to learn today...

As fun as it was watching you struggle. Thighs shaking, nails digging into his chest, he just knew you were trying your hardest to not moan out his name as you came for the 2nd? 3rd? time.

Here comes the fourth...

Gods Satoru loved it when you looked mad. Like one of those angry birds or something stupid cute like that..

You were panting. "Can you hurry up and cum?"

Gojo shrugged. "Tired? I would help but... I can't touch you remember?" He held up his hands, wrists now bound together by his blindfold because you didn't want him pawing at your tits or slapping your ass. (He was able to do both at least once.. and it was great!)

You began to move again. Literally turning him into a slip n slid with how much of your cum and slick pooled on his lower abdomen.

Heaven.. that's where he was..

Gojo was slightly panting as you rolled your hips. Cock twitching from how your walls gripped him, sucking him in like you actually wanted him.

But he wasn't going to tell you how good you were making him feel. It just wasn't in natural for the type of relationship you both shared.

"You really suck at this. I bet Suguru cheats when he goes on missions."

"Gods, shut up." Your nails dug in deeper and he hissed. Almost losing his focus then and there.

"Your pussy game is weak Kiwi.. I'm falling asleep over here."

He didn't mean all that.. He was actually dying on the inside. Struggling to keep himself from painting your walls white. He wanted to savor this moment you both were having together. There was no doubt you wouldn't end up pregnant today, he was Gojo Satoru after all. He never had to do anything twice! -- always getting everything he's ever tried right on the first attempt.

He felt his body twitch and his bound hands begging to be free.. The fabric of his blindfold ready to tear with one tug.

He needed to calm down.

He thought of everything and anything. Naked grandma? She bought him a few seconds. Yaga in a G-string covered in baby oil? Disgusting!-- but hey, it helped.

You rolled your hips again. You had given up on bouncing on his dick and just kept him deep inside. Electrifying pleasure shooting throughout his whole body with every roll of your--

"Shit! What did you do?" He wasn't going to last much longer. Pussy had him already seeing double. His back was already arching off the table.

You were riding him with everything you had. Fucking him like you hated him and only needed him for his cock. (Kind of true..?)

He made the mistake of opening his fucked out eyes to fully look at you..

Your eyes closed and your head thrown back. Tits bouncing with every little twitch your body made..The way you bit your lip to try and keep your moans to yourself.

The wet sounds of your pussy milking him made his mind feral.

Fuck it. You can yell at him later.

With a yelp you were suddenly thrown on your back with your knees to your chest.

This position had Satoru bullying himself deeper inside of you, you couldn't hold your sounds in anymore. Nails digging into his skin as he started fuckin you at a brutal pace and constantly hitting that sweet spot that had you seeing stars.

"Oh fuck, Your eyes are rolling back. You like it Kiwi?"

Did you? You hated yourself in this moment because you actually did. Maybe it was just your fucked out brain speaking but he felt so good against you. His body was sticky but warm and soft despite how hard his whole body was, his breath and small kisses tickled the skin of your neck when he buried himself in it.

You tried pushing him away, this all seemed too intimate. But your wrist were yanked above your head, his lips ghosting over your's.

"Just one, all I want is one."

You couldn't argue right now. Your lips met his in a messy kiss. Teeth clanking, tongues swirling, and spit leaking out. His movements became sloppy, that rough rhythm had turned into a grinding twitch.

One, two, three pumps in and his body was shaking on top of yours. Warmth filled your stomach as those messy kisses turned lazy. You tried to move your head away, but somehow Satoru had snuck his hand into your hair. You couldn't move, and you were too tired to fight it.

You spoke only when he finally pulled away and almost folded you in half.

"Gojo, what the hell? Put my legs down!"

He caught his breath and smiled. "nu uh. We need to keep your hips up so my kids can find your eggs. You have premium spermies inside you right now Kiwi. Women would start wars just for a drop! We can't waste it!"

You gave him a deadpanned look but he was sort of right? You didn't want to do this again if you didn't have to. (Maybe)

Gojo clicked his tongue. "So. You come here often?"

You snorted and tried to get comfortable. The metal table and uncomfortable position was making your shoulders hurt. "I hope the kids eyes don't glow in the dark like yours. It's creepy.."

Gojo opened his mouth.

"With how strong Satoru's genes are. They probably resemble him more. Let's just hope they have your personality Y/n."

You jumped at the new voice. Low and a little hurt..

Suguru stood at the door with his arms folded. He gave you both a closed eyed smile. "Surprise. I came back early."

..........................

[silverflqmes]

may i please please please request an angeal x reader where angeal comes back to town to visit his mom and he takes the reader around where he lives for fun & his mom spills very embarrassing things about him? i love the fact that you write about angeal since he's on the rarer side of liking<3 thank you so much and have a nice rest of your day!

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄.

notes. hi hi anon, this is such a cute prompt, i hope my execution is to your liking<3 and i agree he fr is an underrated king, so i shall do my best to serve🫡

genre. fluff

angeal hewley x gn!reader.

the fresh air of banora reminded angeal of how much he had missed home, being among the smog of midgar as he’d been.

after weeks of being asked- urged to visit his hometown with his partner of seven months now, the first class SOLDIER had reluctantly taken a small leave of absence. a few days away from action couldn’t be too, too bad.

besides — his two friends promised to deal with his share of missions. so his worries lessened.

however, he still couldn’t help the nerves he had for how things would go with his mother. granted, she was incredibly eager in the letters she had written him and excited to be meeting you — his beloved. but that excitement was what worried angeal.. who knew what she would spill about him, he had all sorts of embarrassing memories! especially with genesis..

the teal eyed male prayed the house would be enough for you — he hadn’t exactly lived a life of luxury, so the space was small.. but cozy. he hoped you found it the same, despite the minimal space.

“what’s it like being home after so long? did you miss it??” your voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts, a smile on your lips as he turned to face you with one of his own.

how did it feel, indeed.. “it’s always pleasant to be home, i haven’t been here in a good while.. though it hasn’t changed a bit.” he chuckled, gazing up at the overgrown arch of violet shapes, dangling from their branches. “looks like we came at the right time, too.”

it was none other the native fruit of his village.

for them to be in full harvest upon his arrival, must have been a sign that he was meant to be here, and with you, no less.

“woah, they’re purple!” you beamed in astonishment, wondering for a moment if you’d perhaps been color blind — but thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

“despite their name, they’re called banora whites — or dumbapples, as some like to refer to them as well, for their irregular harvests.” angeal explained, a eyes softening a bit. “the best ones came from the tree that grew at genesis’ estate.” he mused, smiling fondly.

your eyes managed to catch the look on his face before you let out a thoughtful hum. “is that so? maybe we should bring some back for him! oh- and sephiroth too! i think they’ll both appreciate it a lot.” you laughed, taking ahold of your lover’s hand as you watched a line of houses come into view.

banora was small, but quaint. it felt like an honor to be there beside angeal — to have the privilege of being shown around the place he’d grown up in. you couldn’t help but feel special.

“think so?” he asked for certainty before letting out a snort. “perhaps they will. we can pick some tomorrow if you’d like, my mother’s likely going to keep us for the remainder of the day.” the first could recall her letters pressing for him to bring you by, never failing to bring you up since the very first letter he’d sent out confirming his relationship. “i hope that’s alright with you.”

blinking, you then nudged his shoulder, rolling your eyes. “are you kidding?? of course it is! i have got to meet your mom and thank her for bringing the literal most perfect man to have ever existed into the world!” you grinned, squeezing his hand. “so let’s not keep her waiting!”

shock painted his features before he shook his head in defeat, heaving an amused sigh as a rosy hue colored his cheeks. “as you wish..”

it hadn’t taken long for angeal and yourself to arrive at his doorstep, a combination of pleasant aromas invading your senses. just how much had his mother prepared..?

your boyfriend reached for the knob, holding the door open for you before closing it behind himself. “and we’re here.” he spoke up gently, removing the buster sword from his back to rest it against the wall. “i apologize if it’s not much.. but, it’s home.”

the space was relatively small, but cozy — it felt warm and homelike, somehow, despite having only just arrived there.

your lips parted to protest, wanting to say that it was perfect, only for a gasp to intercept you.

“a-angeal, could it be?” a voice chimed in, the sound of rushing water silencing as the dark haired woman in the kitchenette turned to face you both.

her eyes seemed to gloss over with tears as she made her way up to your lover, placing her hands on his cheeks tenderly. “my dearest son, oh how you’ve grown..” the woman whispered incredulously, smiling nostalgically. “it feels like only yesterday that you were just outside, running around with genesis.. now, you’ve returned as a strong, handsome SOLDIER, that has brought home the beloved he speaks of so highly in his letters.” her attention shifted to you as she took your hands in her own, squeezing them adoringly. “you must be y/n, goodness, you’re even more lovely in person! i trust that angeal has been treating you well?”

the male in question let out a breath, flushing a bit. “mother..”

a warmth spread through your chest as you fluttered your lashes before nodding rapidly. “t-that’s me! it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss hewley! rest assured that angeal has taken very good care of me thus far- i’m eternally grateful for him, so thank you for allowing me to date your son, and for inviting me here!” you bowed, wanting to express your appreciation as best as you could. should all go well, this would be your future mother in law!

it shocked her in all honesty. how had his silly son captured the heart of such a sweetheart?? truly, you were too good for this world!

“please, gillian is fine.” she assured you softly, wiping her tears before letting out a soft laugh. “i’m relieved to hear that my son has been well to you, i can worry less now, knowing that he is aware on how to treat his lover.” the charcoal haired woman sighed out contentedly before ushering you in. “ah- come in, make yourself comfortable! our humble abode may lack in space — but treat it as though it were your own. lunch will be ready shortly!”

the mako eyed male inclined his head, picking up your bags. “i’ll put these in my room. while i’d offer a tour, there isn’t much to show..” he chuckled awkwardly, walking ahead to his old bedroom.

you rolled your eyes, finally calming down from your initial bashfulness. “show away! don’t go gatekeeping!” you scolded lightly, attempting to snatch a bag off of him to lend assistance, however.. being as enhanced as he was.. your partner had been quicker.

“gatekeeping?” he repeated before laughing again. “alright, alright. well- this is my room. growing up, we didn’t have much- so it’s on the bare side, although genesis insisted on hanging up pictures of us as mementos.” he explained, smiling to himself a little. “he had also gifted me a copy of loveless, stating that our friendship required me to have one.”

that made you shake your head, a snicker tumbling past your lips. “that sounds like him for sure. you guys look so adorable, you were so so cute, angeal!!”

he rubbed his neck, averting his gaze. “cute is the last word i would use to describe myself.. but if you say so.” the SOLDIER loosed a low breath, smiling to himself before guiding you out. “the next room over is my mother’s, beside it is the restroom.. and i think that’s it.” he concluded, stopping to take in the living room.

not much had changed since he’d last been there, the raven haired male realized. save for a few extra photos his mother had likely framed in his absence.

“angeal, just in time! will you help with setting things up? i might have made too much..” gillian spoke up with a nervous chuckle, tucking a pair of wooden salad tongs into the bowl of greens.

too much felt like an understatement.. he hoped everything would fit on the table.

“let me!” you piped up, snapping the first out of his daze as you jogged up to his mother. “least i can do for receiving your hospitality!”

the older woman blinked before shaking her head. “nonsense, you are our guest! i couldn’t allow that-!” but your hands had already pried the bowl out of her grasp as you flashed a small, reassuring grin.

“doesn’t mean a ‘guest’ can’t lend a hand!”

with that said, the table set in a shorter amount of time, a whisper of thanks expressed for the food before the three of you ate in a comfortable silence.

there was idle chatter here and there, mostly exchanged between yourself and gillian — who was eager to pull out photo albums that you were certainly not opposed to viewing. angeal baby pictures?? that was all the convincing you needed!

“and this one is of him taking his first steps.” she cooed softly, reminiscing in the memory. “cutie, isn’t he?”

you melted at the sight, whining softly. “that’s what i’ve been saying! see ang, even your mom agrees!”

bringing a palm to his face, the male in question let out a soft breath of exasperation. although there was no hiding that undeniable smile on his face.

he was glad he’d given in to taking this small trip home that his two friends had urged him ( for the most part ) into. being back in banora and with his mother brought an indescribable warmth to his chest, which only increased with you at the very table he’d grown up eating at.

when had he gotten so lucky?

“ah- and this one is of him and genesis bathing together-”

or unlucky, in some cases..

“i-i think that’s enough photos for today, mother..”

something told him there would be handsome amounts of embarrassment in the coming days.

he prayed sephiroth and genesis, especially, wouldn’t catch wind of it..

notes. whoops, i had this sitting and finally got around to finishing it. little rushed at the end but i’m hoping it’s good and that i wrote angeal alright..

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[dokk-fukuro]

may i req “your relationship” w fyodor?

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞     A/N: f!reader, smut(?), some sort of toxic relationship, slight yandere, Fedya is an abbreviation of the name Fyodor  ۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞ Dostoevsky as your friend:

• Your relationship is very hard to call friendly, because he does not see anything remarkable in the relationship between people;

• At such moments, Gogol acts as his personal translator. But we all know that you can't take anything he says seriously. Can't it?..

• Fedya treats you as a tool that should play a role in his plan, and then disappear, because it is customary to get rid of unnecessary things;

• However, it cannot be denied that in some way Dostoevsky treats you a little better than the same Ivan he got rid of, Gogol or Sigma. He saw something in you;

• You rarely communicate in person, as his reluctance to be declassified and caught outweighs his desire for a face-to-face meeting. Plus, the role played by excessive caution and safety. To do this, you have a private secret communication channel;

• Even towards you as a friend, he can be abusive, covering it up with concern for you as a friend;

• In fact, Fedya simply does not know about the nature of human emotions and relationships, it is difficult for him to trace the logic and meaning in this, therefore, when you tell him that you are friends and for this very reason you help him, you can sometimes catch a slight bewilderment in his gaze;

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞    

Dostoevsky as your boyfriend:

• Feelings are not about him. He doesn't know how to love, at least he doesn't know how to do it right, as is accepted by society. His “love” is more like an obsessive desire to have you;

• He is still cold towards you both in public and in private meetings. It is not clear why Fyodor behaves this way towards you, but who, if not you, knows for sure that this is another of his manipulations;

• Dostoevsky is a manipulative and jealous person, although he denies the latter even for himself. Feelings should not be something that will be "at the helm". He wants to believe it. Just pay attention to the way he looks at you during your talks with Gogol or Sigma. Dostoevsky is ready to tear and throw about in fact, even if outwardly he seems calm;

• You are the one who drags him to bed so he can sleep. Behind his great plans and constant monitoring of the processes, Fedya may not notice how he spent more than two days without sleep. He also suffers from occasional nightmares;

• His kisses are greedy. From the outside it may seem that he is trying to work his way under your skin in order to be closer, to be one with you literally;

You watch what's going on outside. You don't know how many days you haven't seen the sunlight, but for some reason you don't mind at all. Where you and Fyodor are, it's pretty quiet. There is no city bustle around, which is already tired. His icy palms move upwards along your body as Fyodor kisses the curve of your neck with his lips, leaving new marks on top of those that have almost faded away. He doesn't like the way Gogol behaves towards you. Always so rowdy, eager to impress. Even allowed you to attend the execution of the rest of the Rats of the House of the Dead fighters. Like he's declaring he'll kill anyone for you. That is why you will never see him again. “Would you like to take your eyes off the view outside the window and look at me?” It comes near your ear, and your breath catches as soon as Fyodor grabs your chest. His other hand is stroking the inside of your thigh, which is more than enough to stop focusing on anything but touch.

• Sometimes he plays the cello for you. Secretly from you keeps some compositions that he wrote himself, looking at you;

• Told you the reason why he wants to destroy the espers and create a new world without them, because he has chosen you as the god of this world. And after that story, you understand that Dostoevsky is actually terribly lonely.

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

KINDRED — profile 1

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

❥･• yn homework club

note: they are all 19 years of age except for ni-ki (17)

Park Y/N, Decelis Academy’s top student and President of the Student Council. You have never once lost the number 1 spot throughout your time at the academy and the faculty absolutely adores you. Nothing is more important to you than excelling in your academics, as your dear mother have told you multiple times that people only remember you when you’re at the top of the pyramid. Despite your name being well known and talked about among the student body, you often keep to yourself and the exception of your inner circle. Thinking with your head rather than your heart, you have a hard time empathising with people, which explains your relatively small friendship circle. Have the most insignificant beef with Yang Jungwon, which you instigated by the way, but you’d never admit that.

Huh Yunjin, president of Decelis Academy’s theatre club and most probably the closest person to a BFF to you. Imagine Regina George but minus the unhingeness, that’s Yunjin. Despite her popularity, she’s actually a really sweet angel and would 100% drop whatever she’s doing for you. You first met in freshman year and is inseparable ever since. Her personality type enables her to empathise with you more so than others and you appreciate her for that.

Chanelle Moon, executive commitee member of the Decelis Student Council. For her, you’d imagine Janis but minus the black gothy aesthetics. Probably the most unbothered and coolest person you know (provided you don’t know much people anyways). Similar to Yunjin, she’s your ride or die and you can always count on her to literally hiss at the girls who would pick on you in the library.

Shin Ryujin, president of Y/N’s fanclub. Would literally sell her soul to hold your hand. Came to know her through Yunjin. You used to find it weird that she would openly simp for you but now you’re just used to the unhinged shit that comes out of her mouth. Despite her undying devotion, she respects your boundaries. You call Ryujin, Yunjin, and Chanelle the powerpuff girls because of how protective they are of you.

Choi Beomgyu, member of Decelis Academy’s media club and your unofficial hype boy. You got to know him after he came to the council room looking for Taehyun. The two of you clicked immediately. You were aware of your ‘poor’ interpersonal skills and he was like your personal trainer, he’d call you out for being too straightforward or that you should smile more when addressing the student body. Without even noticing, you’d go to him for advice and he’s always more than happy to help (well in exchange for your chemistry notes and answers of course).

Nishimura Riki, member of Decelis Academy’s dance club. The only member in your small clique that’s currently in their Sophomore year. Despite the age difference between him and the rest of your group, he somehow managed to wiggle his way into your inner circle even though most people would just outright ignore you. The aura and pressure of being friends with the top student wasn’t the most appealing. At dance practice is where he first met Heeseung, Jay, and Jake before subsequently meeting Sunoo, Sunghoon, and Yang Jungwon.

Kim Gyuvin, member of Decelis Academy’s media club. He used to find you scarily intimidating but that was before he actually got to know and work with you during school events. Gyuvin is like the brother you never knew you had. You also find him pretty funny, though most of the time you end up laughing at him laughing rather than the joke he tells. Oh, he also has a super ugly dog, and you never fail to tell him that.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: ik it’s a little long 😅 but i figured it’ll make more sense if i explain their characters a little instead of just jumping straight into the smau like i did with hands on you

taglist open! send ask, comment or submit form to be added!

[brothebro]

Any dp/dc fic recs?

of course! Honestly, i love so many of them and I'll try to include as many as i can in my list here! The Undead Lockpicking series by Milaley: In which Danny has a lockpicking youtube channel and he lockpicks the Watchtower. Hilarious, excellent 10/10

The Bat Trap by Threee: Honestly a good ol twin switcheroo with many funny moments but also a lot of delicious angst! (a Damian & Danny twins au) Just, chef's kiss!

GLXY:PSSNGR by socraticat: Danny takes the place of his alternate universe self who lives with vlad in Gotham after vlad killed his parents. Muchas angst, lots of worldbuilding and fantastic action!

A second life by Die_Erlkonigin6083:Kid Danny who has memories from a past life and currently is Dick Grayson's clone baby (and a bunch of others but mostly Dick's) Adorable 100/10 recommend>

lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood by halfagone (milkywxy): Epic. Dad!Lex and and dimensional travel son!Danny. Sweet and super well-executed Cass/Danny. 10/10 i need to catch up with the latest chappies but it's so freaking good I am aaaaaa

Rooftop Express by EmeraldsAndAmethyst: Danny/Jason. Awesome af. Crime lord Jason ftw! Danny is a (supernatural)delivery boy and professional enigma in Gotham

Our Empty Graves by suomifae: Hazmat Suit, no one knows au! Danny/Jason in which Danny finds himself helping out in Jason's gang. Very cool story building, ideas and execution. Im literally screaming in every chapter. so so good!

bloodlines by halfagone (milkywxy): Danny is Diana's and Bruce's son. He of course doesn't know that. There's a prophesy involved that says Danny will end the world, Diana finds out accidentally about it and finds out she has a son (memory wipe shenanigans) and GOSH. There's so much awesome stuff happening and it's a pleasure to see them piece together the facts. 10/10 Diana rocks

Summons by DizzlyPuzzled: Ghost king Danny in which because he's underage his father gets summoned in his stead. Bruce would very much like to know why he keeps getting yote through summoning circles. Just the right amount of funny, family fluff and angst.

If You Give a Bat a Burger by Cielle_Noire: BOI I HAVE NO WORDS. the plot in this is thiccc and juicy and delicious and the mystery is the cherry on top! Danny lives in Gotham, does some ghostly sigil stuff around to protect Gothamites from bad ghosts, it backfires, we don't know why. Red duck candles are involved. The Batkids are chaos. and im here eating popcorn because it's all super entertaining to watch unfold. 100/10 jessica's duck candle

Friendly neighborhood vigilante by Elizabehta_Beilschmidt: Jazz/Jason THE FIC. honestly one of the best Anger Management fics i've ever read. Love the way Communication between partners is portrayed here and how they overcome the hurdles despite the shitshow that is both their lives (affectionate). 10/10 would read again

Danny Fenton: Dead and Loving It by HyperKid: You need an ao3 account for this one, go go go go make one because it's super worth it! Jason/Danny. They meet at the graveyard, your honour! They actively mess with Bruce and the rest of the Batkids! Gala Shenanigans! What else can i say? Go read!

Worm Off the String by TourettesDog: I am licherally dying of laughter. Peak comedy. Danny/Tim ft little baby man Danny who Tim thinks is Danny's weird af pet. Honestly, so GOOD. 100/10 comedy gold.

Press Heart to Subscribe by Die_Erlkonigin6083: A Danny/Damian fic in which Danny is a streamer and Damian watches his stream. Super cute, well executed, 100/10 sweetness scale

Imprint by Hashtag_DriveBy: Babes i dunno what to tell you. I've done fanart of this fic. De-aged baby Danny and DadHood. Human-ish Fright Knight and Excellent friend Roy. Guys seriously. SO SO SO SO GOOD. 100/10 I wanna see the kid reveal to the batfam and am vibrating out of existence imagining scenarios. - There are more but I can't possibly list them all in one go, I'll make another fic rec list later 💙

[screamting]

TRIGGER WARNING: extremely insensitive depiction of how much one is ‘allowed’ to react to their trauma and grief. (there is NO ‘how much one is allowed’, it’s trauma, it sucks, there’s no right way to react or right time limit for how long to grieve. One grieves for how long they do or want or need.)

Sorry for dragging so much angst into your inbox but do you think people treated Bruce after his parents’ murder like he doesn’t deserve to grieve or be sad? He’s the most privileged orphan in all of Gotham with all the millions of money, the mansion, the personal butler, best education and a secured future as the CEO of Wayne Industries? So what if the staff leaked personal information of his grieving phase, so what if people gossip about a secret relationship between the butler and the deceased Martha, speculating if Bruce is actually their illegitimate kid, so what if the Kane’s avoid him, so what if the other children bully him, so what if he gets kidnapped a lot for the money, so what if reporters are trying to interview him on how exactly his parents died and what their last words were or why they even went through that sketchy looking alley to begin with? He’s got money, he’s got a future, hundreds of children go through the same of worse and they don’t have the opportunities that he has. He has a roof over his head, his needs are always met, he never has to be concerned about money, he’s living the dream of many citizens. The loss of Matha and Thomas is tragic, absolutely, but the city is grieving them just the same because with their deaths all of their chances for a better future went down the drain.

This does not reflect my opinion, this is a horrible reaction to a child losing their parents, nothing of what I wrote as an example is in any way acceptable behaviour. Hope that's clear.

I don't mean to sound rude but if you decide to answer this, I don't want some idiot coming at you or starting an argument because I accidentally worded my ask offensively.

I mean

But yeah no people act like huge assholes even when they don't think you're rich and shit.

Like. Listen. If Thomas Elliot is still around, he's absolutely jazzed Bruce doesn't have to listen to his parents anymore.

If Bruce gets to follow Jewish mourning practices he gets a week to fall apart just fucking completely and then a 30 day period of sort of interacting with the world and the rest of the year is meant to slowly return to 'normal business'

Bruce probably doesn't get that or have it enforced. He's not in charge of the funeral or burial-- and the Wayne parents don't have family left to execute their estate either. So presumably they have a lawyer, or business partner, or friend who will execute it. Maybe it's Leslie. Maybe it's Lucius Fox. Maybe someone else? I doubt it's Alfred because Alfred has Other Shit To Do, especially if he's named as Bruce's guardian in the event of a Crisis.

Anyway. The funeral is either reported on or broadcast. Alfred simply cannot let Bruce go looking at all disheveled, and he's maybe not wrong about that. Bruce definitely gets the week off school. Maybe a bit longer. But then he does... have to go back. He still has the rest of the year to mourn and get back to business as usual right?

...anyway this is a long post to say that Bruce is usually the one actually thinking those things. Like. Other people may also be thinking them but there is some truth to that if your parents are both violently murdered usually you're in a a much worse position than Bruce is!

And someone has failed to reassure him that it money and a place to live literally doesn't make up for your family being dead. Literally we have wrongful death suits that can pay out damages but it's the compensation that that person can no longer help make a wage, because otherwise it would be impossible to put a number on the amount of money that would make up for someone being dead.

This thing happens to other people all the time in Gotham. And our media is filled with examples of it being worse. Losing the loving parents is usually step 1 on the trauma conga line. But then Bruce's just stops. He goes back to school. People are sorry for his loss the first year. After a couple more they start saying that Bruce doesn't have to sneak out or worry about being grounded because there's no one telling him what to do. Yeah of course it sucks but look on the bright side right? No bedtime. First car is a lambo. Most parents suck. Yeah, you get along when you're a kid and don't know any better, but that just means it was probably good they died while you had a good relationship with them, right?

You know those posts about "white middle class people want trauma soooooo bad?"

That's a sign of trauma. Is that you want something external to explain why you feel like shit internally.

Probably throwing himself into studying helps to try and be a distraction. Probably a lot of martial arts training to try and exhaust himself and yes make himself feel hurt and bruised to explain why he doesn't want to get up in the morning. The Batman 2022 novel tie in had him as a street racer for a while which is going for an adrenaline high after nothing else feels good anymore at all, which is ridiculous, because he has more money than God and no one to tell him what to do with it.

The issue is that Bruce doesn't think he should feel as bad as he does, because it's been like eight or ten years now, right? He's so much better off than anyone else who has lost their parents. So he should be grateful about it instead of lonely and broken.

And everywhere he looks externally will reinforce this, whether they intend to or not.

Alfred hasn't ever told him he needs to stop mourning them, but Alfred's always had a stiff upper lip and kept his own mourning as hidden as possible, trying to take care of Bruce without realizing he's Bruce's model for behavior now.

Every single parental approval slip is now a guardian approval slip. Alfred has lawyers with automatic cease and desist instructions on true crime investigations and documentaries but there's not much they can do about non monetized podcasts and videos or news reels revisiting the anniversary. There's a layer of insulation between himself and the people on phones trying to call him but if he gets any amount of social media people talk at him about the One thing they know about him. And of course sometimes there's a newspaper article or opinion column about how Gotham's future died with the Waynes, how they're all mourning their past possible future, and if it's before Bruce is 18-- all that will say is that they are survived by their son, who, obviously, does not carry the future his parents promised with him.

[bubble-popping]

day 7? a whole week? look at me go :) more rivalsduo roleswap au, continuing from yesterday

"Techno?" "Hm?" "Can I braid your hair?" It took a moment before he shrugged and responded, "Sure, why not?"

They both shifted their positions so Dream faced his back--and though it was nonchalant, almost natural, Dream knew the immense amount of trust it took. The ender hybrid gently tugged his hair out of its high ponytail and marveled at the silky strands between his fingers.

"It's so soft..." he murmured, unaware it'd slipped out until Techno chuckled.

"Thanks, I do literally nothin' to it."

"Tch," Dream rolled his eyes, and was glad Techno couldn't see how he smiled like an idiot.

Doing hair came naturally to him. He kept a strict grooming routine--he had to with all the fur on his body. Many of his friends also had fur and long hair, or a plain inability to perform adequate hygiene rituals, so he got a lot of practice with hair. (Sapnap was a special case. He somehow had all three.) He liked to braid the most, and he excelled at it. Even the most complex styles he could probably execute with his eyes closed.

Dream finished the braid long before he wanted to. The familiar motions combined with the fine texture of Techno's hair, he wished it was longer just so he could braid more. So, he undid it halfway through, braided it again, then pulled it undone again.

"Ya ever read the Odyssey, Dream?"

The ender hybrid perked, only for his ears to fold back in confusion. "I've heard of it, never read it though. Why?"

"Well, there's this one part in the book. Penelope, the wife of Odysseus who's been gone for years and many thought was dead, was bein' pressured t' take on a new husband since she was queen. But she believed Odysseus was still alive, so she hatched a plan that she wouldn't remarry until she finished this burial shroud she was makin' for her dyin' father-in-law. It was like a quilt, basically. Except, there was a catch."

Though still very confused, Dream decided to humor him. "And what was that, Techno?"

"Every night, she'd undo all the progress she made durin' the day by unravelin' the shroud. Thus, it would never be finished, and she'd never have to remarry."

"But, that doesn't make any sense. It's for a funeral, right? So, there's a time limit on it. Besides, no way no one noticed."

"You're right. Eventually, her many suitors figured out her scheme and demanded she choose one of them. It was a clever, but temporary solution to a bigger problem."

Dream's fingers slowed to a stop. "Why are you telling me all this, Techno?"

"Because I know tryin' t' put problems on hold only gives 'em room to fester. What are ya hidin' from, Dream?"

Dream swallowed thickly, and let his hands once more fall into his lap. Techno turned to face him, but Dream's eye remained on the grassy floor.

"I can't go back, Tech. I can't face them," he mumbled, watching as his fingers twitched, itching for some kind of pressure.

"Ya made a mistake. Everyone does." Without warning, Techno slipped his hands in Dream's, allowing the enderian to squeeze them tightly. "They're yer best friends, right? They'll understand."

And as much of a comfort as it was, Dream couldn't help how he looked up, expression twisted with skepticism. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Because, I think you 'n me have a lot in common, Dream. There are certain things out of our control, and we're just tryna do the best that we can with what we've been given."

Somehow, Dream only had more questions after that. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Go back t' them. Get some rest. And a bath, ya smell terrible."

Dream scoffed, relaxing into a smile. "Yeah, I do, don't I?"

"Ya really do."

[tangyangie]

Hii I saw u write a karma x reader with a entp gf.. and it was veryy good :)) i even followed u lol

i was wondering if u could write a reader x karma with a isfp gf.. she's very sweet, kind, artistic and likes taking care of others.. she's extremely insecure and hates that she's too shy and allergic to the word no 😂 lol...

She has been feeling a bit insecure about herself and hates herself because of her failures in communicating with others 😭 soo can u write general headcanons and also him comforting her

I'd really appreciate it if you will write this... it's ok if u don't wanna thoo

Thanks :D

blank canvas, blank mind

description. karma x isfp!girlfriend

genre. fluff / comfort

notes: i couldn't tell by what you wrote if you only wanted headcanons or if you wanted a scenario too.. so i did the scenario!! i hope you enjoy <3

— h e a d c a n o n s —

— he likes to take care of you. you relax on the couch as he throws numerous blankets on top of you as he tells you how much he loves you.

— he gives you things. whether that's paintbrushes, pencils, or plushies, you have an overflowing supply of these items. you're running out of places to put things.

— he's always with you. he simply doesn't want you being taken advantage of. he knows how much you hate saying no to people (even if your life is basically in jeopardy), so he's saying it so you don't have to!!

— he constantly compliments you. if you're insecure about your body, personality, interests, those worries will be fine in literally no time at all. he's great at distracting you from what makes you anxious.

— he's always watching you. not in a creepy way!! you just fascinate him. he could stare at you for hours and never get bored. you're just so pretty with your movements, especially when you're letting your creativity shine through.

— he gives you people lessons. he knows you're not great with interactions. he knows your troubles with communications with—well, anyone. so, the most illogical thing to do is help. so, he's constantly trying his best to help you in this kind of thing.

— s c e n a r i o —

you're staring at the wall.

thinking.

about anything—and everything.

thoughts keep filling your mind about your earlier occurrences. the things you said, if you made any weird faces, if you did anything at all that might tell someone you're doing something wrong.

"y/n? are you listening?" a certain redhead asks, brushing his hair away from his eyes so he can look at you properly.

"huh?" you spin, your eyes obviously puffy and tearing up. "yeah, sorry. what's up?"

"hey.. are you okay? did something happen? do you need me to shove wasabi up someone's nose? some habanero peppers, perhaps?"

you give a little chuckle and shake your head. "not today, karma."

"well, then.. what's wrong? you're acting unusual." he says with worry in his voice, carefully jumping backwards onto the bed to sit next to you.

"i was just.. thinking." you sigh, swinging your leg back and forth.

"...about?" karma asks, raising an eyebrow.

"it's just—uhm..." you begin, not knowing how to get the words out.

"i know i act weird around other people. but.. is there something i do without knowing that might make someone dislike me?" you blurt, still a little unsatisfied with the execution of the sentence.

"woah, where's this coming from?" he says, getting off the bed to place a hand on your shoulder. "what's going on?"

"i.. i just always feel like i've done something wrong. after i hang out with my friends, i can't shake the feeling that they'd start talking about me because of something i did." you spill, closing your eyes and resting your forehead in your palm.

"...i'm really sorry. but, i don't think you've done anything wrong, y/n. you're the kindest soul i've ever met and you're the reason i'm not in jail right now." he says, dead serious.

"still.. i just wish i could communicate with them better. i never know what to say to them when i want to talk." you say, looking back up at karma.

"i just wish there was something i could do about it." you say, concluding your point. you felt helpless.

"hey, it's okay. you can always work up to speaking with them directly. just stay out of your own head. you're amazing, y/n. there's absolutely nothing wrong with you or what you can do." he smiles at you, hoping to encourage you at least a little bit.

you wipe the back of your hand on your face, trying to get rid of the tears that had been spiraling out. "are you sure that they'll react well?" you sniff.

"y/n, there's nothing i can do to guarantee that. but, i do blue that they're not worthy of being your friends if they react badly to you wanting to talk to them." he says calmly, caressing your face with his thumb.

"just keep in mind, i'll be with you every step of the way. you've got this. and i'll have wasabi in my hands."

notes: i really searched my mind for this 😭😭 it was fun to write though!!

[bestworstcase]

This is very much a shot in the dark, but in your view of the show is there any chance of Penny somehow coming back? I've seen a couple signs, namely a) her literal last words are "I won't be gone, I'll be part of (Winter)" and b) the Blacksmith's... second words are, with reference to Penny's Maiden Array, "Nothing. No one is ever truly lost."

Factor that in with your belief that Oz's reincarnation curse must be broken, which necessitates at least a dip into the magical/supernatural somewhere down the line. Then add the fact this is the second time she's died under unusual circumstances (it's almost certainly not a mistake that the theoretically rebuildable android is one of the few major casualties of the Fall of Beacon, and given Oz's lack of complete understanding of Maiden physics leaves room for a similar backdoor), and I think there's at least a chance Penny returns in some form.

Really, I guess the question is if you believe this could fit into the story without any troublesome thematic wrangling, or if you think it's more important that Penny remain dead to emphasize the destructive cycle that relentelessly follows all Maidens not named Cinder Fall.

ough it’s been a while since we chewed on penny 3.0 here. the short version is i’m doubtful that it will happen and deeply skeptical of every theory i’ve read as to how she might be brought back, but in light of v9 i do think that penny returning in some form is not completely narratively non-viable if ambrosius did what i think he did.

the core problem with bringing penny back or rebuilding penny (as is oft speculated by the penny 3.0 crowd) is that it flies in the face of the story’s themes; bringing anyone back from the dead is wrong, not because of some bullshit arbitrary rule the brothers made up about death having to be permanent but because this is a world where the natural state of things is a perpetual cycle of life-death-rebirth where, crucially, death is the moment of rest and renewal where all bonds fall away and the soul has absolute freedom to choose what they will become. and anything that abrogates this freedom is wrong.

it’s wrong for the brothers to bar the immortal souls of their creations from ever returning to life, because that’s just a prison – but it’s also wrong for someone still living to pull a dead loved one backwards by resurrecting them, because that’s not the living person’s choice to make. ozma’s reincarnation curse is wrong because it changes him against his will into something he doesn’t want to be. making salem immortal in life was wrong because it’s no different from locking up every other immortal soul in the "afterlife" (which seems to be little more than endless oblivion).

it was wrong for pietro to rebuild penny after the fall of beacon and this is why her arc in v7-8 is a) tragic and b) so intensely focused on her lack of agency and the way she is dehumanized and denied choice by everyone in some way, except winter, from the most egregious extreme of watts’ virus to subtler things like pietro’s remote access or ruby’s initial perspective of “well it won’t matter if she has to be executed deactivated to appease the public because you can just reactivate her again later once this blows over!” – her arc in v7-8 is the narrative thesis against resurrection. penny didn’t choose this, pietro did, and the salt in the wound is that after bringing her back into this child super-soldier living weapon situation he also asked her not to help her friends when they needed all the help they could get, because it was dangerous and he didn’t want to lose her again. (this is not to knock pietro, he’s a great character and his motivations are eminently understandable and sympathetic – but penny is harmed nevertheless.)

thus if penny is to come back it must be by her own choice and her own power; as i discuss in the post linked above, i believe that the instructions ruby gave to ambrosius obliged him to in essence recreate ascension with his own magic in order to dismantle penny without destroying her. and then she died. theoretically this means that penny ended up neither in light’s stasis-afterlife nor in the tree but somewhere like the wellspring of ambrosius’ magic. ambrosius isn’t allowed to bring the dead to life (not can’t, not won’t, it’s “against the rules”), which may prohibit the completion of an ascension-like life-death-rebirth cycle until such time as he’s released from the staff, but the potential is at least—hypothetically—there. but in that case i’d expect her to follow the ascension pattern, and return without her memories; penny polendina died and her soul is reborn as someone new whose heart remembers.

generally i don’t place a lot of stock in “i’ll be a part of you” as foreshadowing – penny is echoing directly what winter told her about fria to comfort her when fria died, and the maidens demonstrably do not work this way and have been stated to not work this way. penny 3.0 theories that hinge on the maiden are honestly a pet peeve of mine, as are most theories of the sort that rely on “well this time it’s different Because Reasons” and of penny is intended to return in any form i am very confident that it will not involve winter or the winter maiden whatsoever except insofar as winter will be glad to see her.

similarly, the mysterious crystal sword haunting ruby in the ever after is not in fact a mystery, it is a physical manifestation of ruby’s grief, as is sundered rose. these manifestations take the form of weapons because ruby is the “weapons are an extension of our selves!” girl – these are representations, symbols for penny and summer in her mind, and the ever after reflects that. see also, ponderstorm. the point is that “nothing, no one, is ever truly lost” is a statement about grief and memory; the blacksmith has penny’s sword because ruby still carries her memories and her love and her devastation.

<- might this also be foreshadowing for penny to emerge from her bootleg ascension cocoon at the end of the story? certainly! it works for that purpose quite well because in that case she’ll emerge different and new yet the heart is always the same. on this, see alyx -> little -> somewhat.

in the event that penny does complete an ascension, i don’t think it can happen until the very end of the story when the god of light has been made to ascend (and darkness too if he’s still around, but i’m placing my bets on ‘dark ascended a long while ago’) and the spirits are all freed from their relics. this is because the journey to getting there quite literally is the journey to rejecting and defeating the divine mandate, you… cannot have penny coming back before the divine injunction against that sort of thing is ended. it’s also, like most everything in this story, an exercise in developing empathy for salem.

the reason i’m skeptical is that i don’t think the narrative is structured in a way that clearly presages penny returning again in some form. if it was in the cards i think there would have been anything at all in v9 specifically laying the foundations. (ascension—and for some reason the character of little*—got the penny 3.0 crowd very hyped, but the narrative does sweet fuck all to draw a connection between penny and ascension and the subtextual associations being made are actually with salem, thus the uncomfortable/nervous “that’s impossible! things have to die… right?” reaction to hearing about ascension, the plug into the storytelling themes via alyx and lewis, jaune’s paranoia, and the tree-is-death-vs-rebirth argument building up to revealing that yeah no salem was right about the brothers. penny’s role in this is restricted to being the sharpest pain ruby is feeling throughout the volume but also—this is the piece that really sinks it imo—being secondary to the deeper all-consuming wound of summer rose.)

*i still think it’s really bizarre that a group of fans who seem to almost universally be penny/ruby shippers latched onto “this mouse who is literally a small child is the reincarnation of ruby’s girlfriend” as enthusiastically as they did like. hello. hello?? i just think that if you infantilize half of your OTP to such an extreme degree that you can’t distinguish that character’s personality from that of an actual like, five year old you have maybe blorboed too close to the sun. at least the “penny fucked with jaune’s semblance to split her soul into various pieces to turn winter and ruby and perhaps this sword into soul jars like some sort of overeager lich” manages to say something interesting about her!

[antianakin]

I can't remember exactly which post it was on or the exact wording, but I saw you make an offhand comment about Ahsoka's decision to release Maul on the 332nd during Order 66 in one of your posts- (it was something about it being a bad decision, or indicative of her only caring about getting Rex out safely or something, I really am sorry I can't remember) -and I was wondering if you'd mind elaborating on your thoughts about that.

Oh gosh, yeah I probably discussed that back when I was writing stuff about the TOTJ episodes or something.

I think my opinion on it... sort-of evolved over time as I thought about that episode of TOTJ with the training and I kept going back over what Ahsoka does in the final 2 episodes of TCW.

I know I did originally see it as Ahsoka being attached to Rex, that she refuses to leave without him because she likes him, he's her friend, and she just quite simply wants to save him. But saving Rex requires a distraction that gets him alone and all she's got that's capable of providing that level of distraction is Maul. And while she refuses to hand him a lightsaber, she has to know that that's not going to really slow him down much or keep him from hurting/killing all of the clones she's intentionally hoping will go after him. I don't think she considers that Maul is going to provide his OWN distraction in the form of destroying the ship so he can escape, but I think that she WANTS the clones to try to stop him, knowing that it's very likely going to get them seriously hurt or killed in the process. So from that perspective, Ahsoka is choosing to sacrifice the rest of the men on the ship for Rex. She could've just... left. She might've been able to just make it to the shuttle on her own and snuck off the ship and the clones would've been enslaved to the Empire, yes, but they also would've still been ALIVE. And that's why I saw it as an attachment to Rex, and I think I sometimes used it as proof that Ahsoka seriously struggled with it as an impact of her training from Anakin.

HOWEVER.

Post-TOTJ, as I thought about it and argued about it over and over again, one of the things that came to mind is that Ahsoka may NOT have been able to make it to the shuttle on her own at all and she might have known that. She knew that the men would be waiting for her in the hangar and didn't have a way of sneaking in that she trusted would work. What she needed was an ally, someone who could potentially help her get past the rest of the men so they could get to the shuttle as bloodlessly as possible. She CANNOT make it off of the ship alone and Rex is the only one who appears to have hesitated in responding to Order 66 and was able to get a warning out to her, so he's the obvious choice to try to save. He's also the highest ranked on the ship, which helps, too.

So saving Rex may have been less a choice based on attachment and more of a choice based on strategy and the "lesser evil." She releases Maul because she NEEDS Rex, she can't survive without him, and she's hoping that the men will be able to put him down without her (although some part of her has to know that they won't). She just wants to get off this ship, she just wants to survive and she needs someone on her side in order to do that and it HAS to be Rex. Releasing Maul was a move made out of pure desperation, knowing that it will result in the probable deaths of a number of the men, because she has literally zero other real options available to her. It's putting her survival above the men's, sure, but her only other option is to just let them execute her or make a hail mary run to the hangar by herself that is very likely to get her killed anyway and doesn't make any real strategic or tactical sense.

It could also just as easily be a combination of both motivations. She needs an ally to survive at all and it makes the most sense to try Rex first, but she also just wants to save her friend because she cares about him more than the rest of them. The first one allows her to justify the second one.

And this sort-of newer interpretation of the scene brought to light part of why that TOTJ episode really frustrated me and made no sense. A MAJOR element of the final two episodes of TCW were to showcase Rex and Ahsoka's relationship, to show that it's THAT RELATIONSHIP that saves Ahsoka in the end at all. It's Rex's hesitation, giving her about 10 extra seconds to figure out what's happening and respond that no other Jedi is ever given, and his information about finding Fives that allows her to understand what's going on with the chips so she can remove it from Rex, that gives Ahsoka the headstart she needs to survive where very few other people did. It's ALL ABOUT REX, it's about how much Rex cares about her, and how much Ahsoka trusts and cares about him in return. THAT'S what's different about it. It's not about Ahsoka being more skilled or trained than your average Jedi Master and so she can go up against the clones alone and live.

The WHOLE POINT is that Ahsoka never would've survived without Rex's hesitation. And Rex never would've hesitated without Fives' sacrifice and information. Ahsoka is saved because of Rex and Fives, not Anakin. Fives couldn't save the entire Order or the Republic or the rest of the clones, but his efforts did save Rex and Ahsoka. And that's where the emotion comes from. He couldn't save everyone, but his actions did save two people and it left Rex and Ahsoka alive to go save more people. One small pebble leaving ripples in a very large pond. Pretending that Ahsoka survived instead because of some sort of abusive training she got from Anakin that makes her better, faster, stronger than everybody else just devalues that entire message and I hate it.

I recognize I got away from the original question a little there, sorry. I think that basically whether you believe she did it out of attachment or desperate strategy, the important part is that it's about REX, that Ahsoka cannot survive without him in this moment. She may not be making the RIGHT choice to release Maul, but, as Yoda says earlier, she may be making the ONLY choice she can really make at all in this moment. She saves Rex, she survives, but it comes at a cost. And once Order 66 had hit, there was never going to be an end to that story that didn't come with a cost somewhere, it was just a question of what that cost was going to be and whether she was willing to live with it or not.

[garlichoisan]

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐡 [10]

[an ATEEZ social media au]

🍓 Characters/Pairing: San x reader, Wooyoung x reader + more in the future

🍩 Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

🍰 AU info: social media au, university!au, named reader

💌 Word Count: 559

⚠️ Warnings: a really toxic friend!Wooyoung, a lot of angst

A/N: I know I promised a Halloween update, but the night before, I found out the original chapter 10 was a mess; there was a time skip that was kinda random yet needed as well as some other things that just didn’t made any sense. That’s why I decided to split it into 2 different chapters so that it looks better and is less chaotic overall. But I didn’t have the time to execute the idea, so I decided to take my time and make sure it turns out well. This chapter is not connected to the Halloween one in any way and there’s actually going to be another time skip in the next chapter so that it’s finally October in the story too (it’s currently August, around Mingi’s birthday).

Another thing: the angst and friendship drama in this chapter is a lot, but it’s still nothing compared to the one you’re going to see unfold in the next chapters. It’s literally going to be an emotional rollercoaster for my characters and for my readers too, I hope.

💟 if you wanna be added to the taglist, please just send an ask!

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[August 10, 07:56 pm]

San knocked on the door to Mingi’s room, waiting for a response, but he was not getting any. He knocked a few more times before speaking.

“I know you’re inside. Please, open the door and let’s talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Mingi answered as he didn’t move an inch to go and unlock the door.

“Stop being so stubborn. I wanna apologize if I’ve hurt your feelings somehow,” San explained his intentions, hoping that would help him earn Mingi’s forgiveness.

“Don’t worry, I’m just dramatizing after all. I’m eventually gonna talk to you when I decide to stop being dramatic.”

San scoffed with annoyance. He couldn’t believe that was really one of the reasons Mingi was mad at him right now.

“Really? You’re mad at me for telling the truth?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, I’m too busy being dramatic,” Mingi said with a passive-aggressive tone.

San sighed, trying to find a way to make Mingi actually listen to him.

“Can we talk please?”

“We’re talking right now though.”

“We’re talking but we’re not having a meaningful communication,” San said, resting his body against the wall since he felt he was going to stand in front of Mingi’s room for a long time.

He was surprised to hear the door’s lock silently unlock and the next moment he was met with his friend’s sceptical look.

“Talk then. You have one minute before I slam the door in your face,” Mingi warned him as he was standing on the other side of the doorstep, technically still being inside of his room but not inviting San in.

“One minute? Seriously, that’s a little—“ San tried complaining, but Mingi cut him off.

“Fifty-four seconds. Fifty-three, fifty-two…”

San decided to stop wasting time and started talking even though he had no idea what to say.

“You’re super dramatic and hella stubborn too. You’re also sometimes immature and think everything is about you. But we love you like that, Mingi. We love everything about you, good or bad. You’re our friend and the only time you’re gonna hear us calling you a clown is when we’re joking around. You’re the one who keeps the mood in our group chat lively all the time. And we appreciate you for that. Thank you for being our friend,” San said, keeping his eyes on his Mingi’s, hoping he could feel his sincerity.

Mingi stayed silent for a few seconds while San was wondering if he needed to add something more to his speech or completely redo it, before Mingi hugged him suddenly.

“Ara was right. We really can’t be mad at each other for long,” San pointed out, smiling happily, as he hugged his friend back.

“You talked to her about me?” Mingi asked with surprise as he pulled away, looking up to meet San’s eyes.

“Of course. Usually you and I talk to each other all the time and when we don’t, it feels kind of weird. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

Mingi nodded, looking at San again.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Mingi suggested happily.

“Yes, but not before I grab some popcorn and beer.”

“Your ideas are always the best!” Mingi nodded enthusiastically and went to lay on his bed, waiting for San to come back and for them to start their movie marathon.

╔═══════════ SUMMARY ═══════════╗

San was often told that he was everything a girl wanted to date: handsome, funny and smart. That was until they got to know him better. Then he was told he was too much, too overwhelming, had too many emotions and was too chaotic. Thus his experience with dating was not as good as one would have thought. The problem: he has the biggest crush on a girl he met whilst studying abroad. But every time he messages his crush, he seems to mess things up further and further. With the help of his hyperactive friends he tries to win Ara's heart but before that, he has to convince her he doesn't actually hate her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 💟 taglist:

@violets-are-vladi @chocochannel @ateezcbk @turtledove824 @huachengsbestie01 @redflemmefoxy

networks: @cromernet @kflixnet

[drifloonz]

Um um um. S!3v3n x reader cuddle hcs if possible? And the reader's partner is a Sylveon who looooves miki. Ty <3

YEASSS!!!! we are giving everybody what they need... there is a DROUGHT in the S!3V3N NATION RIGHT NOW which is UNACCEPTABLE!! but i have executive dysfunction so im getting to requests late. apolocheese, but at least i'm finally pushing stuff out.

sorry. anyways!

s!3v3n x reader cuddle hcs!

___

♥ this man will squeeze you like a SQUEAKY TOY!!!!!!! his hugs and cuddles are nice and tight, but just comfortable enough for a bit of wiggle room... but he doesn't want you to leave his embrace, of course!

♥ mind the claws! he doesn't intend to scratch you, but if he does please trust in him. ( he really doesn't mean to. )

♥ loves nuzzling his nose against your neck or shoulder, and also likes resting his chin ontop of your head as he cuddles you

♥ his red eyes if you look at them right under all that shadow kind of look like a glowing ^-^ face when he's happy. it's kind of silly. he's so content just snuggling.

♥ sometimes he'll breath weirdly heavy or grumble/growl sometimes when cuddling you. it's like, affectionate grumbles and growls though. s!3v3n specifically is just kind of. like that, y'know.

♥ he loves running his hands through your hair and clothes, and will often fiddle with loose bits of hair or cloth. like drawstrings and stuff. it's something to busy his hands with while he relaxes with you.

♥ ... speaking of hair, you also swear you can feel his wrapping around you when you two cuddle.

♥ s!3v3n especially is extraordinarily protective of miki, so he literally kind of growls at your sylveon sometimes like a territorial animal when they get close to miki, mostly out of habit - he's used to any pokemon trying to attack her, after all! i mean, it is kind of the point of pokemon battling and he did used to be the champion... he's only used to pokemon and people alike attacking miki out of self defense or breaking down in tears at the sight of her, so when your sylveon doesn't he's... confused, and surprised.

♥ but when he calms down and realizes your sylveon's feelers are just kind of massaging her, he grumbles and gives up... he eventually grows used to them though, and finds it very good that miki's finally got some other pokemon friends! especially since, well... the ones she had when she used to be alive are all gone, thanks to steven releasing them.

♥ he'll also pet or feed your sylveon sometimes... he has a few pokepuffs either made by you or that he takes totally legally ""buys"". sylveon kind of unintentionally becomes a pokemon that helps him with his mental health. it's ribbons can literally calm people and pokemon alike, so it helps s!3v3n especially calm down and get more into his right mind when he's upset. plus, sylveon's purr! so it's doubly therapeutic...

♥ ... s!3v3n himself also kind of purrs. you can really feel the vibrations in them - they're like, grumbly and you can hear them coming from his chest. it's nice to sleep to.

♥ his leg will sometimes twitch in his sleep.

♥ both steven and s!3v3n toss and turn a lot - unless they have someone to hold. they'll hold their partner all nice and snug, close to their chest, and they'll just sleep in that exact position for hours and hours on end. all he needs is a bit of comfort, and he'll start sleeping like a rock. of course, it still takes a lot of adjusting and a bit for him to truly fall asleep, but it helps if he's cuddling.

♥ all in all. he is quite the cuddler. he'll definitely give you bear hugs but in the form of cuddles... have fun with him!